The Line (Witching Savannah #1)

The Line (Witching Savannah #1) Page 44

I opened my eyes, and burning in the wood before me were two symbols, similar to those that Oliver had carved into the wood I was now wearing as a pendant. A spell had been placed here and, with the magic running through me, I could see it. The first symbol looked like the letter Y with a line drawn through its vertical center. A defense, a source of protection, a warning. The second looked something like a fish standing on its tail. Property, a parcel of land. I didn’t know their names, but the magic within me explained their purpose. These runes strengthened the spell that held the mad and desperate energies of the old hospital in check, keeping them locked in place so that they couldn’t spread out into the rest of the city.

I considered the wisdom of freeing those who were trapped on site. It wasn’t the smartest or safest thing to do, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them there forever. Maybe this was the one unselfish thing I could accomplish today. I cast my mind out around the spell, checking for any weak spots, and as I did, a shrill and piercing sound rose in my ears. It was deafening from the start, and it kept getting louder and louder until the pain caused my knees to buckle. The warning was clear—I wasn’t to meddle.

I was still on my knees looking up at the hospital when I felt strong hands grasp my shoulders. My sense of hearing returned in a rush of words.

“Mercy, are you okay?” I spun around to see Jackson. His eyes widened and then narrowed as he took in the new glow that Oliver’s magic had given me. An angry crease formed on his forehead. “What’s wrong with your eyes? What have they done to you? What have you done to yourself?” he asked, his voice full of misery. “I can feel the magic on you.”

I looked into his eyes, feeling their blue warmth, and wanted to possess him, the strength of Oliver’s need to seduce momentarily overpowering the effects of Jilo’s spell. The look of distaste on his face was a cold slap that triggered my conscience and stopped me from acting. I knew that something had changed in him. I had seen him look at Maisie with adoration thousands of times, but he was repulsed by the power in me, even though it was inconsequential when compared to hers.

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s nothing permanent.” I reached into my shirt and pulled out the wooden amulet. It was hard to summon the will to remove the necklace, but I managed to pull it off and let it fall to the ground beside me. The world around me faded, losing the vibrant colors and sharp edges that had been revealed by Oliver’s magic. It was once again my simple, everyday world.

“Burn that thing,” Jackson said, reaching down to grab the necklace.

“No!” I blocked him with a show of force I never would have thought myself capable of without the power. Then, more calmly, “Not yet. I’ll destroy it tomorrow.”

He backed a few steps away from me, surveying me for any remaining traces of the power. “This isn’t meant for you, Mercy. This ‘magic’ ”—he said the word with disgust—“is unnatural. It’s wrong. I’m done with it.”

“You can never be done with it,” I said. “It’s what Maisie is, what she’s made from.”

“That’s why I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “I’m through with the magic. And I’m through with Maisie. I’ve decided to break off our engagement.” I started to protest, but he held up his hand to silence me. “I mean it. My eyes have been opened. I saw what Maisie turned into the night of the lot drawing. I’ve been asking myself if I could truly love her after what happened. The sight of her, floating above the ground, the way she enjoyed hurting us. The look in her eyes. It sickened me. She sickened me.”

“You shouldn’t have been there. You shouldn’t have seen any of it.”

“But I was. I did. And I don’t know how to deal with it. The reason I showed up at your house yesterday is that I wanted to talk everything over with your family. I hoped it would help me figure out if I wanted to carry on with Maisie.”

“You can’t decide that by talking to anyone other than Maisie,” I said, but Jackson just shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I had my answer as soon as I laid eyes on you, and when we went into the house—I can’t live with this weirdness in my life. As long as I’m with Maisie, it will be a part of my life, and I just can’t abide by that. It took me a while, but I’ve finally gotten it through my thick head what your family is all about. And this magic is not natural. I’ll never forget the things I saw yesterday. I’m sorry, but what I felt for Maisie is dead. I could never love her again.” His face softened, and his eyes bore into me. “But you aren’t like them. Not usually, at least. Mercy, I’ve got to say it. I wish to God that I’d met you first.”

“You don’t mean that,” I protested out of loyalty for Maisie. Or was it only Jilo’s spell that was keeping me from throwing my arms around him? In my secret and guilty dreams, I had heard him say these words to me thousands of times. But in my dreams there were never any consequences.

“I do mean it,” he said. “You’re real. You’re human. Quite frankly, I don’t know what Maisie is anymore, but I know I can’t love her. I can’t build a life with her. I sure as hell cannot make her the mother of my children.” He hesitated a moment and then said, “I’m leaving Savannah, and I’d like you to come with me.”

“I couldn’t—”

“No, don’t answer me now. Take some time and think it over. I know that you’ve made promises to Peter. I know you feel responsible for him and Maisie, but I think that deep down you know I’m right. We belong together, and the farther we get from this place, the clearer that truth is going to be to you. We could go anywhere, as long as it’s far from here. Seattle, Los Angeles, you name it.” His voice had been growing in intensity, but he stopped and ran his hand through his blond locks, taking a moment to compose himself.

I couldn’t process his words. Jilo’s magic made it impossible for me to consider leaving Peter, and my love for Maisie made the thought of breaking her heart even more impossible. But in my mind’s eye, if only for a fleeting moment, I could see us together on that other coast, holding hands by the beach. I pushed the image away.

“But even if you don’t choose to leave with me,” Jackson said, “you still need to get away. You cannot let their magic poison you. Leave that thing here.” He nodded toward my necklace on the ground. He stepped closer to me and took me into his arms. He didn’t try to kiss me; he just nuzzled my hair, breathing in deeply. Then he whispered into my ear, “Sleep on it tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow. If you want to go with me, and I hope and pray you do, meet me at dawn in front of Saint John’s. I won’t see another day in Savannah.” He turned away from me and hopped into his GTO, leaving behind a peel of rubber the length of a full good-bye.

I reached over and retrieved my necklace, putting it around my neck without even consciously thinking about it. As my eyes followed the trail of colors that Jackson had left in his wake, I felt a tug from Connor, the power of his pendulum seeking me out. Well, whatever he wanted could wait. I swatted his energy away like I would an annoying fly.

TWENTY-FOUR