Or maybe Cal just hadn't had much magic left after trying to revive
Elodie. He and Mrs. Casnoff had come crashing into the clearing only moments after I'd cut off Alice's head and watched her body dissolve into the dirt. Cal had run to Elodie right away, but we'd all known it was already too late. Anna had told me Cal couldn't raise the dead, but he had tried that night. Only when it was obvious that Elodie was gone did he turn to me and take the blade out of my hand.
On the way back to the school, I'd been pretty out of it, but I remember Mrs. Casnoff telling me that Alice's body had been buried in the cemetery, along with a few other demons. That's why the angel had held the blade of demonglass--just in case any of them ever managed to get out.
"You people are more prepared than the Girl Scouts," I'd muttered.
Then I'd fainted.
"I always thought you were pretty evil. I just never wanted to say anything," Jenna said now. Her voice was light, but her eyes were sad when she looked down at my hand.
I'd gotten most of the story from Mrs. Casnoff that night. She hadn't lied when she'd told me that Alice had been changed through a black magic ritual. She'd just neglected to tell me that Alice's ritual had been a summoning incantation, designed to bring forth a demon and make it do your bidding.
I had no idea what anyone would ever need a demon for. Errands?
General evil tasks that needed doing around the house?
But demons are tricky, and so instead of becoming Alice's do-boy, it had stolen her soul and made her a monster. Since she was pregnant at the time, her baby had been a demon too. Lucy had married a human, so Dad was half demon, making me only a quarter demon.
"But," Mrs. Casnoff had told me as Cal had tried to heal my hand, "even a diluted amount of demon blood can result in enormous power."
"Great," I'd replied, my hand on fire as Cal's white magic raced over it.
Mrs. Casnoff had known what I really was all along, of course. That's why she hadn't been able to sense Alice. She thought she was just picking up on my demon vibes.
"So what happens now?" Jenna asked, getting off of her bed to sit gingerly on the edge of mine. "What about Archer and your dad?"
I shifted, wincing as my hand bumped against my leg. "I haven't heard anything about Archer other than what you told me about how he and his family have dropped off the face of the earth. Apparently there's a big group of warlocks out hunting for him."
And what they would do when they caught him. . . ? I didn't want to think about it.
"Cal thinks he and his family probably ran to Italy," I continued, trying to ignore the pain in my heart. "Since that's where The Eye is based, it seems like a safe bet."
To my surprise, Jenna shook her head. "I don't know. Something I overheard in Savannah. A few witches were talking about the L'Occhio di
Dio contingent in London. There've been a few sightings of a new guy with them. Dark-haired, young. Could be him."
My chest constricted.
"Why would he go there? He'd be right under the Council's noses."
She shrugged. "Hiding in plain sight? I just hope they catch him. I hope they catch all of them." Her eyes were cold as she said it, and a little shudder ran through me.
"As for my dad, I don't really know. The Council always knew he was half demon, but I guess since he'd never attempted to eat anybody's face and was super powerful to boot, they decided it was okay to make him Head, so long as no other Prodigium found out what he really was."
"And Mrs. Casnoff knew too?"
"All the teachers did. They work for the Council."
Jenna reached up and started twirling her pink streak.
"So you're not a witch," she said. It wasn't a question. Now my wince had nothing to do with my hand.
I wasn't a witch. I never had been. Mrs. Casnoff had explained that the powers of demons are so similar to those of dark witches that it's easy for a demon to "pass" as a witch, so long as she doesn't do anything crazy, like . . . well, like drinking the blood of a bunch of witches to make herself stronger.
I'd liked thinking of myself as a witch. It was a lot nicer than demon.
Demon meant monster to me.
Jenna suddenly reached over and started scratching the top of my head. "What are you doing?"
"I was seeing if you have horns under all that hair," she said, giggling.
I swatted her hand away, but I couldn't help smiling back. "I'm so glad my monsterness amuses you, Jenna."
She stopped playing with my hair and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Hey, speaking as one monster to another, I can tell you it's not so bad. At least we can be freaks together."
I turned and dropped my head on her shoulder. "Thanks," I said softly, and she gave me a squeeze in return.
There was a soft rapping at the door, and we both looked up. "It's probably Casnoff," I said. "She's checked on me like five times already today."
What I didn't tell Jenna was that the last time we had talked, I'd asked
Mrs. Casnoff what all this meant for me.
"It means that you will always be incredibly powerful, Sophia," she'd answered. "It means that, like your father, you will be expected to use this power in service to the Council."
"So I have a destiny," I said. "Crap."
Mrs. Casnoff smiled and patted my hand. "It's a glorious destiny, Sophia. Most witches would kill to have your power. Some have."
I'd just nodded because I couldn't tell her how I really felt: I didn't want to be Sophia, the Great and Terrible. That sort of thing should belong to girls like Elodie, girls who were beautiful and ambitious. I was just me: funny, sure, and smart, but not a leader.
Sitting there that night with Mrs. Casnoff, Cal still holding my hand even though all of the magic was out of him, I'd asked the one question that had been buzzing in my brain.
"Am I dangerous? Like Alice?"
Mrs. Casnoff had met my eyes and said, "Yes, Sophia, you are. You always will be. Some demon hybrids, like your father, are able to go years without any incident, although he is accompanied by a member of the
Council at all times just to be cautious. Others, like your grandmother Lucy, are not so lucky."
"What happened?"
She looked away and said, very quietly, "L'Occhio di Dio did kill your grandmother, Sophie, but with good reason. Despite living thirty years without ever harming a living soul, something . . . something happened to her one night, and she reverted to her true nature."
She took a deep breath and said, "She killed your grandfather."