“I’ll come with you,” Patrice said, rising to her feet. “I want to help.”
Ember crossed her arms. “Or we could lock you in Ash’s closet until the Higher Power can give you a proper trial.”
I shook my head. “No one is locking anyone anywhere. We need all the help we can get.”
“I agree,” Discord said. “Mending the veil will be the most taxing feat we have ever attempted. You may require healing immediately when it’s done.”
He leveled a steely gaze on Patrice and clenched his hands into fists. “But if you give the slightest hint of deception, I will not hesitate to tear off your head.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood.”
“We need weapons.” Ember pushed away from the table, her gaze drifting to the hallway closet where she kept an arsenal that would make a Navy SEAL blush.
“And supplies,” Ash said. “With the veil this thin, we’ll need salt, iron, and every binding herb we have left.”
“I’ll pack a bag.” Miles jumped up, grabbing a canvas tote from the hook by the door. “Sage, rosemary, obsidian flakes. I’ve got some pre-mixed healing salves, too.”
“Patrice, you’re with him,” I said. “Pack whatever medical supplies you have left. We might need them.”
She nodded, her face pale but determined, and followed Miles to the cabinet.
“Mom, you’re staying here,” I said.
She opened her mouth to argue, her spine stiffening in that Holland way that meant try me, but I cut her off.
“Don’t. You poured every ounce of your vim into holding the veil together. If you come with us, you’ll be a liability, and I can’t be worrying about you while I’m trying to keep the world from tearing open.”
Dad’s words from the cave echoed in my mind—no man allows a Holland woman anything—but I wasn’t a man. I was her daughter, and I wasn’t asking.
Mom’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. “Fine. But I’m going into town. If anything gets past you, it won’t get past me.”
“Deal.” I kissed her cheek and turned to Discord. “Are you ready to end this?”
“I am ready to mend the veil.” His words felt heavy, laced with a meaning I understood perfectly. Mend the veil? Absolutely. Save the realms? You betcha. The end that came with our success? None of us would ever be ready for that, especially me.
Pain flashed through my chest, the idea of losing him nearly crumpling me, but I locked the thought deep in the recesses of my mind, labeling it a tomorrow problem too.
We moved as a unit, a chaotic, dysfunctional, powerful family unit. Ember strapped daggers to her thighs and tucked a pouch of salt into her belt. Ash grabbed a heavy iron poker from the fireplace—primitive, but effective—and Chaos hovered over her, his eyes scanning the windows as if expecting an attack at any second.
“The van is in the drive,” Mayhem said, dangling the keys.
“We can’t drive.” I walked to the front window and pulled back the curtain. “Look.”
The street outside was a sea of black and orange. Tourists. Thousands of them. Halloween in Salem gridlocked the city. People in costumes swarmed the sidewalks and spilled into the streets, laughter and drunken shouts filtering through the glass.
“If we take the van, we’ll be stuck in traffic for hours.” I let the curtain fall. “We have to walk.”
“She’s right.” Ash slipped her spell satchel onto her shoulder. “Driving on Halloween is a nightmare all its own.”
“Let’s move,” Ember said. “Keep your heads down and your magic holstered unless absolutely necessary. We blend in until we can’t. Then, we’re just part of the show.”
We stepped onto the porch, and the noise hit us like a physical wave. The air smelled of funnel cake, autumn leaves, and the distinct tang of raw magic bleeding through the veil.
Discord gripped my hand, his palm warm and calloused against mine. His gaze darted around the crowd, taking in the witches with pointed hats, the vampires with plastic fangs, and the werewolves with fake fur.
“They mock us.” He eyed a woman dressed as a sexy devil in red latex.
“They celebrate us,” I corrected, pulling him down the steps. “Don’t take it personally.”
