In the corner of the park, a bench was nearly hidden by an overgrown tree. It faced toward the street beyond. A man sat on the bench, hands moving back and forth as though weaving some invisible thread.
“You ready?” Laurel whispered.
“Yeah,” Nick murmured back.
“Hey,” Parker said, crouching down in front of the man.
He looked unhoused, wearing thick layers of coats and clothes. His eyes were vacant until Parker spoke, and then they flashed bright green.
“You,” the creature inside him said. It was the same rough, dragging voice that Gile had used. “Are you here to kill me like you killed the others?”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Parker said. “We can find another way, but you can’t live inside him.”
“Why not?” the thing said.
“Because it’s his body, his mind, and no one but him has a right to it.” Parker’s voice was low. “But we can find you another home.”
“Lies.” The creature reached out, and the circle that hit Parker disintegrated on impact, shredding into a thousand pieces before disappearing. The knife spell Parker had set up worked just as well as it had the day before.
Still, Nick’s stomach clenched, and he glanced at Laurel.
They couldn’t take the risk that the spell would find a vulnerable spot, like Parker’s face or hands. He waited for Laurel to do her part first.
Her eyes flashed white, and in the air in front of her appeared something that looked similar to alchemy, even if it was entirely different. Nick swallowed and waited for her to nod.
Then he reached into his notebook and took out the circles he needed, throwing them up so they were framed by her magic. Without the anchor points, he was able to do it almost effortlessly.
Parker was still talking, and the victim stood, his fingers going clawed. He screamed, “I don’twant to hurt you!”
Then he turned to Nick, and there was a horrible moment right before the spell he and Laurel had created landed on him.
“But I don’t want todie,” the man said pathetically. “Not like my father.”
Circles spun off him, hitting random objects: the trees, the ground. Nick was surprised that after the first few aimed at Parker, the parasite hadn’t sent any for him or Laurel. The parasite died in a long, pulsing beat of thrown magic, chaos and green fragments of circles landing around them.
Nick had killed things before, sometimes out of desperation, sometimes by accident, but he and Laurel had built a spell they knew was going to kill a sentient creature. He felt sick, swallowing down the feeling.
The man slumped over, and when he sat up, his eyes were a pale brown. “What happened? Am I free?”
“Yeah.” Parker tried a smile, but it was heartbreaking to watch.
Nick looked over at Laurel, who was frowning. “Was that what all of them were like?”
“Not all of them,” Nick said.
“Santa Muerte says she isn’t taking them.” Laurel was still looking at him when her eyes flashed a brilliant white, glowing so bright that Nick blinked, squinting at her. When she spoke again, her voice was the supernatural echo that meant Santa Muerte was speaking through Laurel. “They cannot die. Not truly. You know who they are.”
“What?” Nick asked. “Who are they?”
“Youknowwho they are. What they are.” Santa Muerte’s expression was unimpressed, her eyes narrowing. “Do not play the fool.”
“Why would I know who they are?” Nick asked, feeling lost. “Is it alchemy? Is it alchemy I’ve seen before?”
He frowned, rolling his alchemy pen between his fingers. He didn’t recognize the framework of the alchemy circles, although he couldreadthem. It was a frustrating conundrum and he looked up to see Santa Muerte shaking her head at him.
“Nicholas King, I can only believe you are being this obtuse because you feel guilt. It eats at you like maggots on a corpse. Youknowwho this is. You know and you do not need to pretend you do not.” Santa Muerte raised her hand, drawing it up and blocking the sun that was still rising, not quite at its peak.
And Nick knew. He sucked in a breath, his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, feeling it in his bones, feeling it behind his eyes.
