He’s shockingly easy to lift, so I shift him into a bridal carry and head toward the road, frosty grass crunching lightly beneath my bare feet. We probably look ridiculous—a slim girl like me carrying a tall, muscled guy like him.
Hindley’s truck is a ways down the road, skewed onto the gravel. I lay Heathcliff down for a second while I open the passenger side door. Then I check his pockets. The keys are there, but no phone, so I poke my head into the truck and find his phone sitting in the cupholder.
A sudden ripple of energy passes through my body, and there’s a tightening sensation around my spine and lungs. I freeze for a second and focus on breathing steadily. The feeling of the god’s presence inside me has intensified a fraction.
I don’t know how much time I’ve got.
Quickly, I turn on Heathcliff’s phone. He’s got it set to unlock with his face, so I hold it in front of him and it lets me in.
I know Daisy’s number by heart. I enter it quickly, press the green phone symbol, and wait.
Fuck, it’s like four in the morning. She’s not going to answer…
“Hello?” Her voice is unmistakable, smooth and clear and musical.
“Daisy.” My voice cracks, so I swallow and try again. “It’s Cathy Earnshaw, from Wicklow. The—the girl who had a weird reaction to your voice.”
“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so glad you called! You sound scared—don’t be scared, okay? I’ll be careful about the tone I use.”
“That’s the least of my worries right now. I was sacrificed to the god last night.”
“Youwhat?”
“The church at Wicklow. They sacrificed me to Cernunnos. And Heathcliff—he’s my… He’s… Well, I love him, and he brought me back. He’s a necromancer. And then he almost died, but Cernunnos said he could save him, so I made a bargain and Heathcliff’s okay, but I think the god is inside me—Iknowhe’s inside me. He’s taking over slowly, and I don’t know what to do. Oh, and I’m a banshee.”
“Oh. Oh god, that’s a new one.” Daisy’s voice sounds a little breathless but firm. “Okay, we’re coming to help you. We’re leaving right now.”
A man speaks, his voice like warm velvet. “Cathy, this is Jay Gatsby. Where are you right now?”
“I’m near Old Sheldon Church.”
“You need to find somewhere safe to go. Somewhere no one will think to look for you. Do you know a place like that?”
My brain races through the options. I can’t go to Aunt Nellie’s, Dad’s, or the store. I don’t trust the Lockwoods, so I couldn’t go there even if I knew where Heathcliff lives.
There’s one place where no one will be in the wee hours of a Monday morning. The very last place where I would willingly go.
Wicklow Heritage Chapel.
Yes. There’s eager assent from the god inside me, a nudge toward that choice. The faint, heated glee of impending vengeance. Cernunnos wants to go there, and not for any good reason.
In the end, I’m not sure who decides—me or him.
“Wicklow Heritage Chapel,” I tell Gatsby. “Meet me there.”
“On our way,” he replies.
“Cathy.” It’s Daisy’s voice again. “You can do this. We’ll get there as fast as we can, but until we do, I want you to know that you’re going to be all right. You’re smart, and you’re strong, and you’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. “Hurry.”
I end the call, tuck Heathcliff’s phone back into the cupholder, and lift him into the car. Once I’ve got all his limbs arranged and his seat belt on, I slam the door, hop into the driver’s side, and start the engine.
Thank god Dad taught me to drive both manual and stick-shift. I’m not very good, since he rarely lets me drive his car, but I can manage.
I’ve got this.
I put the truck in gear and press the gas pedal, angling the vehicle onto the empty road. There’s a flare of interest in my mind, fascination with the truck and the way I’m driving it. I can feel the god’s intensity as he drinks in the information.
