School the next day passes in a blur. Mama stays late at the shop on Tuesdays for inventory so I don’t have to deal with lying to her face, which is nice.

Around midnight I sneak out, wincing as my french doors squeak something terrible, but the light in Mama’s room doesn’t so much as flicker.

Jules meets me in his driveway. Like me, he’s dressed in dark colors. His curls are even haphazardly gathered in a messy man bun. The new look catches me off guard and I stare at him for a moment, trying to interpret the flutter in my stomach that overtakes me when I look at him. Or maybe the flutter is due in part to the fact that he’s here, helping me, dangling the keys to his brothers truck enticingly.

“We should put it in neutral and roll it to the end of the street before we start it. It’s so loud,” he whispers.

“Is your brother asleep?” Dev’s blinds were closed so I couldn’t tell. Brody’s truck is here in the driveway too, but no lights are on in the living room.

He shrugs. “He and Brody are downstairs, probably working out.”

I lick my lips and nod. We get to work rolling the truck.

It’s a pointless exercise though. As soon as we reach the edge of town, Jules curses.

“What?” I ask.

“I think Dev and Brody are behind us.”

“Are you sure?” I pull down my visor mirror in alarm.

“That or it’s the sheriff flashing his lights at us for no reason,” he huffs.

“Just keep going. Just.. just get me there, okay? We’ll deal with them when we get there. What are they gonna do, run us off the road?”

Jules grins. “You got it, boss.” He presses down the gas peddle a little.

Moonhollow is intimidating in the darkness. Swathed in shadow, it looms like the set of a horror movie. Hell, it is a haunted house. Purposefully so, though knowing that doesn’t make it any less creepy to me.

Jules puts the truck into park and kills the engine. He’s about as good as driving as he is at drinking, but somehow we made it. Even with Brody and Devereaux tailing us so closely.

Jules and I share a resigned look as we prepare for whatever punishment the two older boys have in store for us for sneaking out. We exit the truck just as Brody’s engine cuts.

Dev is before his little brother in the next instant, looking mad enough to pop a football with his bare hands.

“Give me the keys,” he bites out.

Behind him, Brody approaches, looking much less concerned.

Jules hands over the keys to the truck without hesitation. On the way here we had discussed our contingency plan. If it came down to it, I would stay and find a way home in the morning. The house technically belongs to me anyway.

Dev looks like he’s trying to find the right words to express just how pissed off he is.

“What in the ever loving fuck - “ He takes a breath. “- possessed you to steal my truck and drive halfway across the county without a goddamn license?!”

“It was my fault!” I blurt.

Three sets of eyes fix on me and Brody looks suspiciously like he’s trying to hide a smile.

“And why, Artemis Adelfi, did you need to get here at one o’clock in the morning?!”

I can’t help but shiver under his focus. “I just needed to, okay? Don’t blame Jules. I just needed a ride. Y’all can go on home now. I’m sorry I dragged everybody out.”

The look of consternation on Devereaux’s face turns to shock. “You expect us to just leave you here? It’s the middle of the night! Not to mention we found your Grandmother’s mysteriously exploded body in there less than a week ago. It’s still a crime scene, Emmy! For God’s Sake!” He gestures wildly to the yellow tape draped from one porch pillar to another, barring the entrance.

“It’s fine,” I say, even though my hands are shaking at the thought of going in there alone. “Don’t worry about me. There’s just something I need to do.”

“Don’t worry about… ha!” He makes a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Listen here. There is no way in hell I’m leaving you here in the middle of the night. So get in the truck or I’m calling your mama.”

Shit. “Dev,” I say, panic tinging my voice. “It’s my house! She left it to me, so there’s no reason why I can’t -”

“No.” He cuts me off. “I’m not leaving you here. And that’s final.”

His tone leaves absolutely no room for argument and I deflate.

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“Then at least let me run in and get something.” The spellbook. If I can get Grandmother’s grimoire then I can learn how to prepare to talk to the spirits, at the very least. “Please Dev. We’ve come all the way out here.”

Dev narrows his eyes at me. “What is it?”

“Just a book!” I say hurriedly. “A book of my grandmother’s. Her journal. Please, it’s sentimental.” There’s desperation in my voice and he must hear it, because he stares hard at the house for a moment.

He exhales angrily. “Fine. But I’m going in with you to get it.”

“I am too,” Jules says firmly.

“Hell, let’s all go. Make it a party,” Brody says, cracking his neck with a tilt of his head.

I nod, accepting their conditions. We all turn and face the three story behemoth that is Moonhollow. The house has been well maintained but parts of it still creak when a cold breeze picks up. I shiver and start forward.

The boys follow.

We are halfway up the steps when a sense of foreboding hits me so strongly that I stumble.

Jules puts a steadying hand on my arm as Brody rips away the yellow crime scene tape.

Something inside me is screaming not to go into the house, but I ignore it. I want the grimoire. I want to find out what happened to Grandmother. More than fear I feel the thirst for answers, and if I’m being honest with myself, retribution.

I pull keys from the pocket of my jeans and flip through until I find the oldest looking one. It slides into the lock like butter and then the door swings open with an ominous groan.

Dev slides past me, entering first. Then Jules does the same, followed by Brody, leaving me last to walk through the door. As soon as I do, the heavy wood slams shut behind me and a deep, velvety voice begins chanting.

“Stop!” I yell in panic, trying to push past the guys to see what’s happening. They’re all standing at the living room entrance, blocking me into the foyer.

The voice continues on, ignoring me. It’s speaking Latin, which I’m terrible at. All I can make out is the word for ‘witch’, lamia. I duck under Brody’s arm and my blood chills in my veins at the sight before me.

Kneeling in the middle of Moonhollow’s living room floor is … something. A man-like something with red eyes that exude light like a neon sign, and an ethereal aura that glows bright enough to momentarily blind me. He .. it .. is in the middle of a ritual. The air is charged and the lights are flickering off and on. He’s picking up power fast.

“Stop!” I order again, because I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know it can’t be good.

Jules, Dev and Brody are all still, eyes wide like they can’t believe what they’re seeing. They probably can’t.

I run forward. My only hope of derailing whatever the man is trying to do is to disrupt the ritual before he can complete it. But when I reach the circle he’s made, using what to my horror looks like blood, he looks up and flicks his fingers to the side, throwing me against the wall like a rag doll without ever touching me.

There’s a startled shout behind me and then all three of my companions are on the ceiling, unmoving, pinned there by an unseen force.

I push up in alarm. A lamp is in pieces next to me and my head throbs. I taste blood but I don’t think anything is broken.

All the while, the man keeps chanting, barely stopping for breath. His red eyes are focused on a small fire before him, in which a small branch is being devoured by the flame. It looks as though it’s almost gone.

“Stop,” I plead, not trying to get close this time. “Stop! I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop!”

His thin lips curve up into a smirk, but he doesn’t stop chanting. Instead he flicks his fingers again and I find myself being slammed into the wall once more. My head cracks off the plaster and I see stars as the boys shout useless objections from above.

Every inch of my body hurts as I turn my head and watch the man. The latin flows flawlessly from his tongue. He’s shirtless and only wearing black harem pants that cuff at his knees. He’s barefoot and on each forearm is a leather cuff. He looks like a character from a book. It’s dark, so I can’t tell for sure, but I think his hair might even be blue.

The last of the branch disintegrates as the fire consumes it and his chanting comes to an end. There’s a moment of tense silence where nothing happens and I almost start to sag in relief. But then a beam of light suddenly appears between me and the red eyed man. It’s like an ethereal rope that reaches inside of me and ties itself to my heart. By the wide grin on his face, the same is happening to him, and this is exactly what he meant to achieve.

The rope pulses and I feel even weaker than I did a second ago.

Fuck. He’s draining me. This asshole has some nerve.

But then three more glowing lines appear, wrapping themselves around my heart as well, and for a moment I can’t breath. My eyes follow the ropes to the three boys on the ceiling, who all look as shocked and terrified as I feel.

The red eyed man does not like this new development. The grin fades from his devilish face and he snarls. He moves into a crouch, angled upward, like he might launch toward the ceiling, presumably to kill my friends.

Everything within me rebels against what’s about to happen. Before I know what’s going on all the ropes pulse and I’m drawing energy to me. I whip upright and hover off the ground a little bit, cradled by the wind. It’s the only element, so far, that I’ve excelled at in my training with Grandmother.

It’s enough to startle the red eyed man who pauses his launch to look up at me. When he does I blast him with a gust of wind powerful enough to send him backwards. Having access to this much power is intoxicating.

He hisses at me and stands swiftly, then suddenly runs at me in a full out sprint.

I panic and my hands catch fire. I cross them in front of me defensively and project outward with my mind, creating a blast so potent that when the red eyed man hits the opposite wall, he leaves a dent. He slides down into a crouch and glares at me, hissing.

“Witch,” he growls. “This isn’t over. I’ll find you again when you don’t have your guardians to drain from and we’re away from this cursed house.”

With that remark he rushes the front window and crashes through, fleeing with inhuman speed. The glowing rope between us stretches and then begins to fade with distance.

I stare after him in a moment of stunned silence until a loud crash sounds. Dev, Brody and Jules fall to the floor.

It’s painful, despite the rugs, and I know this because I feel it. The glowing lines connecting me to each of the three of them pulse and it’s like I fell from the ceiling also, three times.

I gasp and drop to my knees. My hands extinguish and I wrap my arms around my middle. Then the lines pulse again and I am overcome with terror. More than just my own. It’s totally encompassing. I curl into a ball on the floor and hug my knees to my chest. I might be crying, but I’m not sure.

Dev is the first to speak. I’m not sure how much time has passed when he asks, “What in the hell was that?”

I can feel his panic, feel his racing heart like it’s my own. Maybe it’s because he’s closest to my physically, or maybe it’s because I’m focusing on him.

“Emmy!” Dev barks, demanding answers. “Emmy?” He notices me in fetal position and his panic takes on a different flavor. He scrambles over to me and places a trembling hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I choke on a sob, my eyes squeezing shut. I think I lose consciousness.