The Blood Keeper

  Gently, I plucked a primrose. The four brilliant yellow petals matched my hair. I wanted more than anything to prick my finger with the tip of the dagger, to send the flower flying up as a butterfly, to perform one final tiny act of beauty before my magic went dark.

  But I could not chance altering the fragile magic infusing the blade. All I could do was listen to the sound of the magic rushing through my body, and pray I wouldn’t forget it when it was gone.

  WILL

  I waited for Mab at the foot of the silo.

  It was her hair I saw first, bobbing at the edge of the forest. I stared at it as she waded through the low sunflower plants, thinking about Reese.

  She emerged like a queen, her purple dress spreading around her knees in the wind. Dark ribbons blew over her shoulders to slip along her arms and chest like rivulets of blood. She held a flower in one hand, a knife in the other. Totally weird, just like the first time I’d seen her. In a tree wearing goggles and combat boots, with blood smeared over her mouth.

  This was just as strange. Just as wild. But normal now, too.

  “Mab,” I said, walking out of the shadows.

  She lifted her face. “Will.”

  I climbed up the rickety silo ladder first, and Mab behind me. We spilled over the side onto the dark, sparse grass. Under the leaves of the tree, the shadows felt deep. Mab immediately went to grab her tackle box from the roots and began setting up a spell. All she’d said to me was that we needed to do this so that I could be her true familiar. Could channel magic to her, and from her.

  She laid out a circle of black ribbon, and two thin candles. Onto a scrap of paper, she drew an angry-looking design. It spidered out from a center point. Mab offered it to me. “Do you think you can replicate this?”

  Nerves tickled in my stomach. But I nodded.

  “Good.” Mab picked up the dagger she’d brought with her and offered that, too. Kneeling on the ground with her back to me, she said, “Carve it into my back.”

  I dropped the weapon. “What?”

  Twisting her neck around to look at me over her bare shoulder, she repeated herself.

  I crouched behind her. “Mab, no way. How can I do that?”

  “Carefully but quickly.”

  “I can’t cut you.”

  “Then this will not work.”

  “Mab!”

  She turned completely and snapped, “I told you about magic, Will. Nothing is free. Sacrifice! Balance! That is the essence of what we do.”

  It was as close to anger as I’d ever seen in her. Pressed lips, brow wrinkled. I picked up the dagger. Looked at the discarded drawing she’d given me. “What is it?”

  “A black candle rune. It will tie our power together completely. You’ll draw from me and be able to begin the spell when you stab Gabriel. And I, in turn, will be able to draw from you, because you will be connected to me as my true familiar.” Mab glanced up at the charms dangling over us, bobbing in the light breeze. They were only hanging shadows because it was still so dark.

  I took a deep breath, deeper than I was used to because of this strange body. It reminded me suddenly of how Mab had said possessing another body took getting used to. I didn’t want to be used to this. “Okay,” I said, shakily.

  “Thank you.” Mab turned back around and took a deep breath herself. It lifted her shoulders and then sank everything down. I positioned myself just behind her. Her lower back was pale even in all these shadows. The sun didn’t touch this skin often. I gripped the dagger and spread my other hand out. So black against her, like a hand-shaped hole.

  I had to pretend it wasn’t real. It wasn’t her skin. This open back was just paper. Mab tugged the straps of her dress to the very edges of her shoulders. But it wasn’t necessary. She’d picked the right thing to wear to give me all the room I needed.

  This was me stalling.

  I clenched my jaw, glanced a final time at the drawn rune. Put the tip of the dagger against her back.

  It made me sick to my stomach when the sharp blade slid through her skin. So easily. Mab made no sound, and didn’t flinch. But I froze, and she whispered, “Don’t stop, Will.”

  I wanted to shut my eyes but couldn’t. I wanted to go faster but not screw it up. My tongue was dry, but my hand was surprisingly steady. That was probably shock.

  There was only enough light to see the lines of red blood. They marked my progress. I started kind of panting. Mab reached her hand back and touched my knee. Her fingers dug into the pants, gripping me.

  I gritted my teeth so hard my head began to hurt. But I kept going. Cut lines and angles. Jagged spider legs.

  Finally, it was done.

  I pulled away. I said, “Okay.”

  Mab rolled her shoulders. Hissed quietly. “Good,” she whispered.

  Wind ruffled the tree over us, tossing the charms. I found the little horse and jockey I’d picked. It leapt like it was actually galloping.

  “Your turn,” Mab said, turning on the ground. “Give me your back.”

  Heat spread down my whole body in a weird combo of relief and fear. But I bent over so my hands were flat against the rough ground. Mab left the drawing next to me and knelt beside me. “I’ll be quick, but brace yourself,” she warned. Then the knife was in my skin. My back was on fire.

  I shut my eyes. Curled my fingers into the ground. The pain was so focused, right where Mab cut. It followed her knife like a spotlight: cold, burning pain moving down my back in a straight line. Then across. In a sharp V. It hurt more over my shoulder blades. Hot blood trickled around my ribs. It almost tickled. At one point high up, the pain flipped some switch and I almost liked it. I let out a kind of puffing laugh. Endorphins.

  “Hold still, I’m nearly finished,” Mab said. Her breath was warm on my back. Brought the pain straight to life. I winced and kept still. Little shivers crawled up my spine, dragging pain with them. It all settled in a little fire at the base of my skull.

  Then it was nausea. Awesome.

  She stopped cutting and put down the dagger. I leaned up, felt a slick of warm blood slide down my back. It soaked into the waistband of my pants.

  “Now.” Mab took my hands and we stood together. “We get into that circle, backs together. I will say words, and you repeat them. Then we say them together. And you focus on that candle, on letting the magic spin through both of us. It’ll be like fire spilling into your back from mine, into your heart. You draw it out and use that to light the flame.”

  “You want me to light a candle with my mind.”

  “And my magic.” Mab smiled sadly.

  “I guess all the cool witches can do it.”

  She clearly didn’t get my joke. Just nodded. And led me into the ribbon circle.

  We turned our backs together. Mab stepped back into me, and even though I was a good half foot taller than her in this damn big body, the moment her bloody back squished against mine, the power slammed us together.

  I gasped. Mab clutched at my hands. “Don’t let go, and don’t fall, Will,” she said.

  It was so hot between us. The slick blood filled all the spaces between the shadows and leaves with its smell. I tasted it on my tongue, gagged at the memory of the mud monster in my mouth.

  MAB

  The black candle ritual did not look like much from the outside. We were only two people back to back, whispering words and waiting for candles to light. A scared girl and a crow-boy with feathers cutting up from his cheekbones and down his spine.

  But from the middle of it, there was a rage of hot pain and exploding power. It was give and take, pushing and pulling. It was a rainbow of fire.

  I said the words to bind myself to Will, and gave them to him. He repeated them, and we said them together.

  Your power become mine. Your blood my blood. The mark of my strength on your flesh, forever. Reflecting power into power like aflame in a black mirror. The mark of my strength on your flesh, forever.

  The chant wove around us, a tight band of air
circling again and again, linking us together. My back shivered and writhed as tendrils of my blood flowed out of the torn skin and pushed for Will’s. His blood reached for me. Our blood coiled together like scarlet worms.

  Sharp nausea circled my thighs, weakened my knees. I held on to Will’s hands so tightly, focused on the building power between our palms.

  And the moment the runes snapped into reality, I felt it. Will jerked and so did I. My heart pounded, and we breathed simultaneously. Drawing my eyes to the wick of the candle, I blew a narrow stream of air.

  It flickered to life.

  Will’s candle did, too, and the flames made the heart-shaped redbud leaves into ripples and layers of shadow.

  WILL

  We watched the sunrise together. Mab leaned against my shoulder. I leaned against the trunk of the redbud.

  My back didn’t hurt at all. And Mab’s rune had scorched into dark scar tissue. I only assumed mine was the same. It felt just like a sore muscle.

  Mab’s braid hung over her shoulder between us. Scratching me when she shifted. As the sun came up, it turned the curls into gold. Here under the tree, with the wind making the silver bells and wind chimes shake, I could only think about the crows. How they’d seen her here first. The sharp image-memory of her hair. Of being hers.

  I turned my head and put my lips against her hair. Breathed in the smell of blood and green things. My back flared a little, and Mab said, “My granny used to tell me that all the magic in the world was right there in the sunrise.”

  Looking out through the leaves at the spread of colors on the horizon, I could believe it. Especially feeling the echo of Mab’s power in my heart. It was like the mud monster’s poison—Gabriel’s poison—tucked into my chest. Except not heavy. Not scary. It tingled more like when my foot had been asleep and started the process of waking up.

  If only I could keep hold of this when I took back my real body.

  I said, “I think I don’t need any more magic but this.” I held up my hand, with her hand in it. Our fingers together.

  Mab raised our hands up to her mouth. She kissed the shiny black knuckles, then smoothed her cheek against the tiny feathers scattered across the back of my hand.

  A hidden fear slipped out of her heart and into mine. I didn’t understand it. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m scared, Will,” she whispered.

  “What?” I scooted around, pulling her to face me. “This is going to work, Mab. You are so strong, you know what you’re doing. It’s a great plan.”

  “I know.” She blinked fast. Drew her legs up so that her knees were against her chest. “I know it will work. That’s what scares me.”

  I put my hands around hers. “Why?” I rubbed my thumbs along her knuckles.

  Her forehead lowered until it touched our hands. She took a shuddering breath, then looked directly at me. “This is going to cleanse all the magic between us. Between me and Gabriel.”

  “I know. That’s … the point. To burn him out, all that magic out of my body.”

  “Yes.” The first full rays of sunlight reflected in her eyes. And tears made them shine.

  I turned over what she’d said. And realized what she meant just as she said in a shaking voice, “I’m going to lose my magic, Will.”

  “You can’t!” I squeezed her hands. “Mab!”

  “There’s no other way. I have to seal the countercurse. I can’t let it go raging off to burn the whole world. It’s my job to bind it. It’s what I do. I keep curses.” She shrugged, looked off past my shoulders. A little line appeared between her eyebrows, and her lips turned down with determination.

  Shaking my head, I tried to imagine her like a normal person. All schoolbooks and—and cheerleading. No blood or knives or air-into-fire. “There has to be another way.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I can’t think of anything. Not that promises Lukas will be safe, and you.”

  “I’m willing to risk it!”

  “I’m not.” It sounded so simple when she said it. “And Lukas is depending on me, too. I don’t know how long he’ll survive. There isn’t time to go through this all again and again. We have one chance, and it must be now.”

  It was impossible to argue with that. I opened my mouth and closed it.

  She touched my face. “This is how it has to be. I’ll do this final spell, and then … I don’t know. I don’t know who I’ll be.”

  Those were my own words. I thought of the times she’d told me that she was magic. When she’d sat on the concrete stadium step and said, It’s what I am meant for.

  I stood up, pulled her to her feet. Putting my hands on her face, I looked straight into her eyes. Said, “I know who you’ll be.”

  Lifting up onto her tiptoes, Mab kissed me. I pushed into it, my hands on her hips. The feeling between us heated up, centered in my back and shooting through my heart toward her. Gasping, Mab put her forehead against mine. “You taste like wind,” she whispered. “Did I tell you?”

  “Mab.” I kissed her again.

  Mab closed her eyes and put her hands flat against my chest. Over my heart, where in my own body the antler had bruised me, where all the magic that brought me to this had begun. “Will Sanger,” she said, breathy but certain, eyes still closed as if she was picturing something in her mind. “As long as you kiss me, I will always remember that magic lives in the world outside my blood.”

  “I promise I will.” I tightened my hands on her hips, tugged her closer. For just that moment, nothing else mattered.

  SIXTY

  MAB

  We met, the three of us, as the rising sun bathed the oak circle and the Pink House in soft golden light. Ben dropped down out of one of the far trees and loped over to the rosebush.

  “He hasn’t moved at all,” he said quietly.

  I scanned the rune-work they’d done, nodding my approval. It was quite good. Taking the knife that had been stabbed into the ground and waiting, I pricked my wrist. “Ben, I need your bare chest.”

  He hesitated, frowned at Will, but then quickly stripped off his shirt.

  With my blood I painted a rune over Ben’s heart. “To hold your body firm against Gabriel’s possession,” I said.

  “That’s really pretty nasty.”

  Will smiled. “You get used to it.”

  Ben touched my wrist, smeared the last drop of blood there. “Are your tattoos like his?”

  “Yes. Blood tattoos, runes worked into my skin as permanent magic … Oh.” All the air rushed out of my lungs. This countercurse would strip my tattoos out of my flesh, the tattoos Arthur had given me, that we’d painstakingly diagrammed and spent long mornings under the sun pricking into place.

  I’d always believed I’d have that piece of him forever. Indelibly marked into my skin.

  Tears washed my eyes, but I ground my teeth, pushed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and sucked in air through my nose. Will touched my cheek, his thumb on my lips. I nodded against his palm and blew out a harsh, strengthening sigh. Ben touched my shoulder, though I could see in his face that he didn’t understand. He didn’t waste time with questions, either.

  I said, “Will, when you stab the knife in, I’ll feel it, and I’ll immediately begin pulling on your power to disconnect Lukas.”

  “I know.”

  “And then you just concentrate on your body.” I took his feathered hand in both of mine and gazed up. The sunlight turned his skin oily, a blue and violet and golden sheen through the feathers. It was beautiful, especially with the turquoise eyes peering down at me. “This one will fall to pieces, and you must hold on to your body. Want it more than anything.”

  He brushed stray curls off my face, and I wished my hair could just stay where I put it sometimes. “I know, Mab. I know what to do.”

  “We both do.” Ben stepped in to make us three points in a small triangle.

  “You remember Faith’s number and address?” I flicked my eyes at him, unable to stop fretting, unable to move on
with this last act of magic.

  “Yes.” Ben rattled off the information, and I had to nod. If things went wrong, if Will was injured, or I was, or even Lukas needed healing, he would go for Faith. I wouldn’t be able to help.

  Ben squeezed my arm and backed off, while Will glanced over his wide shoulder toward the house. He looked back at me, and I only stared at him for a long moment, reveling in the colors and crow remnants. There was nothing left for me to say, and Will gave my hair a final little tug before going with Ben.

  I watched them approach the porch, then turned around to kneel at the unfinished edge of the salt circle.

  WILL

  Ben and I paused on the porch. He set his closed fist against my shoulder. I nodded. Our plan was simple. He was the distraction. I would come up behind my body and jam the dagger in. Hopefully missing all major organs. Since it was my own body. That I was about to mutilate.

  Better not to think about it.

  My brother gripped the door, popped it open, and strode inside.

  I counted one-Mississippi-two-Mississippi up to twenty, with my forehead pressed into the door frame. Listened for his voice. For any yell for help.

  Then in I went.

  The windows had all been opened, and the temperature in the house matched the outside. A little humid. A little breezy. No lights were on, and everything was grayish and lit with the morning sun. I heard my voice from the right, and crept slowly forward.

  My body had its back to me, hands on my hips, and he was saying to Ben, “… letting you get out too much.”

  Ben stood near the open window, having maneuvered so that there was a sofa between him and my body. A curtain flapped against his elbow.

  It was this easy.

  I stepped forward, out of the hallway and into the den.

  Gabriel stood loosely, hip cocked. It was so not like how I imagined myself. Even from behind. He was shirtless, wearing slept-in pants. The blood tattoos had mellowed into a rusty, dim shadow of what they’d been before. Old. Like they were totally a part of him. Of me.