“I don’t know.” It sounded weak because I did know: I didn’t want the responsibility. “Even in my ignorance, I know there’s a lot that comes with that title.” I shouldn’t have said it—I mean, on some level I knew what saying it would lead to—but my totems had me in the habit of being honest.

“Like what?”

“Like responsibility. I don’t know if I’m ready for—”

Nana interrupted me with abrupt laughter. “If you were voted the class clown, it would be because you already were the clown. This is no different, Persephone. You already were you. You already took justice into your own hands with Lorrie’s stalker and were prepared to do it again to avenge her. You know that if you do something once, it’s a mistake, but do it twice and it’s either a habit—” She took another drag from the cigarette.

I rolled my eyes. I really hated that old saying.

“—or a vocation,” she finished.

My head shook back and forth.

“Why are you doubting yourself now? You agreed to the contract. You—”

“I screwed up! Theo may die because of it!”

“You have already taken on the responsibility for that mistake, and you have learned from it. I’m confident you’ll perform the ritual accurately and save her.”

That stunned me. “Me? But I thought you would lead and I would support you—” I stopped when she smiled.

Johnny had told me this, had said I had to do it. I’d thought he meant “you have to do it” as in “you witches have to perform the ritual.” But they all expected me to run the circle, and it had been obvious to everyone but me until just now.

Chapter 18

I sat with Theo while Johnny made some breakfast for himself. While I waited, I changed out of my pajamas and ripped robe into a button-up linen vest that had a trim-but-comfortable fit and old jeans. I combed out my hair, put it up, let it back down, put it back up with a different clip. Aggravated, I took the clip out again. What was I thinking? I never messed with my hair, and here I was messing with my hair, because Johnny was going to be back in a few minutes.

Dr. Lincoln came in first, though. “I was wondering about Vivian. I heard the others talking about your kennels in the cellar. Should we put her in one of those or something?”

“No,” I said flatly.

“But she’s been in that chair for how long? And, well…”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t trust her. She’s a witch, and she’s marked by a vampire. She might be able to chant the locks open, maybe even bend the bars. I want her in the middle of things so she can be observed, to be sure she’s not doing anything we don’t want her doing. And if she’s uncomfortable, I’m sure I can show her my baseball bat and explain that she’ll be even more uncomfortable with broken bones.”

“Okay then,” he said, mollified, and left.

I began studying Nana’s translation of the ritual, but I didn’t get far. Beverley awoke and pelted me with a dozen questions. After I’d given her a rundown on what she’d missed, which wasn’t much, she went downstairs to get some breakfast. I turned back to the pages but before I could read more than two words, Johnny walked in with a heaping bowl of Lucky Charms. It wasn’t even in a cereal bowl, but a small mixing bowl. “Hungry?” I asked.

He smiled, crunching. “Second bowl,” he said.

“I hope you bought a case of that stuff.” I smoothed a hand over my hair. If I’d gotten up earlier, I could have showered and washed it by now. I could have done that much. “You did leave some for Beverley, didn’t you?”

“Of course. How are you this morning?”

“Tired. Confused. Worried.”

He grinned. “Oh, good, so all’s normal.”

I grinned back. “You?”

“I’m having breakfast with you—well, in your company, anyway. I couldn’t be better.” He munched another bite, saw my spell notes. “You’re absolutely certain this is safe?”

“According to these notes and Nana, it all makes sense, so I want to say yes, but truthfully, I’ve never done anything on this scale before.” I stood and handed him the papers to look at.

“Why is Nana translating this into English?”

“Because I don’t know much Latin.” Just as she’d neglected to teach me witchcraft lore, Nana had been lax when it came to my instruction in ancient languages. “It’s important that I understand each nuance of the spell and be comfortable with every word.”

Johnny’s look still held questions.

“Nana’s a careful translator; she’ll get it right.” I went to Theo’s bedside. “If it’s any consolation, what we’re doing is more like sorcery and less like witchcraft.”

“And the difference is…?”

“I’m sure the council members have a high-blown and wordy technical answer for that, but in less archaic terms, think of witchcraft as the sand on the beach.”

“I like this analogy already,” he said, letting his voice deepen.

I didn’t scold him. I went on: “The sand touches the sea and the air and stretches along the coast and inland to the soil. Witchcraft is like that: it receives the waves of power—the gods and goddesses of the various pantheons—and touches the energy of nature, influences it, to shape witches’ will through rituals and spells. But sorcery digs through witchcraft, burrowing deep into places you cannot see to find the treasure—the power—below the surface. It consumes that power, directly creating an immediate change, not just influencing a future one.”

“Witchcraft is sand. Sorcery is buried treasure. Got it.” He turned up the bowl and drank some of the milk.

I laughed softly. “Male oversimplification strikes again.”

He lowered the bowl and wiped his mouth. “X marks the spot.” He scanned over the page. “So what do the rest of us have to do during the ritual?”

“Decide if you want to witness it or stay the hell away, I guess.”

“What about Beverley?”

“If we’re successful, Theo will change. I’d rather Beverley didn’t see that. Not yet, anyway. Lorrie wanted to shelter her from the visual until she was a little older. We should honor her wishes.”

He held another bite ready and I noticed he was not using a regular spoon, but one of my big serving spoons. “Yeah. She is a bit young to see something that gruesome, I guess.” He took the bite, munched happily.

His phone rang and he mouthed the word “Lycanthropia.” I knew it was band business. I took the papers back from Johnny and strolled to the window and read them over again while he talked.

The rite was more intricate and involved than anything I’d ever done before. That alone didn’t intimidate me—all rituals follow a logical sequence, and this was just like doing everything I usually did, just fancier and with more flair. But this spell called for a full-scale ceremony with visualization and chanting and the searing ley-line energy. That did intimidate me. I absolutely had to focus and get this spell right the first time. In the next few hours, I had to memorize it and rehearse it in my mind. I had to see it perfectly in my mind over and over, the way athletes visualize themselves making all the right moves of their sport.

The life of a friend was on the line. If I didn’t act, she’d die. So I was going to take action. My doubt was about the level of energy I’d be drawing from the ley. What if I couldn’t maintain my focus? How would I know what enough was? If it wasn’t enough for a full transformation, we’d have to put her down. Having to actively take her life like that would be so much worse than watching her life slipping from her.

Johnny closed his cell phone. “Sorry about that, Red.”

“Don’t worry. I still can’t believe you get a signal out here.”

“Aw, my magnetic personality just pulls the signal in.”

“And I expected you to brag about having your own relay tower.”

“Oooo. That’s a good one.”