"Um, a lot? There is seriously so much wrongness going on right now. Namely, the fact that you people are teenagers with bags of guns." Izzy stiffened a little at that. "We're not kids," she spit out. "We're Brannicks." Sighing, I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I get that, but look, Izzy, I can't kill a werewolf. I know werewolves. I lived with some, and they're...
well, they're gross and slobbery and super scary, but I can't kill one."
I waited for her to whip out a crossbow, or handheld cannon, or whatever other crazy killing implement she was no doubt packing. Instead, she tilted her head and asked, "You lived with werewolves?"
It was almost fully dark now, and I wished I could see her face better. "Yeah," I answered. "At Hex Hall. There were a few of them there. This one girl, Beth, was actually pretty nice. And then there was this kid, Justin, who wasn't much older than you are." I knelt down to scoop up the bag again, only to have her shock the heck out of me again by asking, "What other kind of supes did you live with?"
Looking up at her, I said, "All kinds. Like I said earlier, faeries-and there were witches and warlocks. My roommate was-" I broke off and gave myself a second to swallow the lump that had risen in my throat. "My roommate was a vampire. Jenna."
"Holy crap," Izzy said, and once again, she sounded like a kid. Especially when she added, "Mom and Finley faced off against a couple of vampires last year. I didn't get to go because they said it was too dangerous. Weren't you scared she was gonna like, drink your blood when you slept?"
My impulse was to immediately defend Jenna, but I remembered how I'd felt that first night in our dorm room, when I'd come in to find her chowing down on a bag of blood. "A little bit. Before I got to know her. But once I did, I was never afraid that she'd hurt me. She was- is-my best friend." And then, before I could start crying again and risk death by dehydration, I stood up, holding the backpack out from my body. "Also, it's kind of hard to be scared of a vampire who's barely five feet tall and has pink hair, you know?" Izzy was quiet for a moment before saying, "Pink hair?"
"Well, not over her whole head, but a stripe-" I said, before the way Izzy had said "pink hair" registered. I thought of all those papers, files, and boxes in the War Room. "Have you heard of her? Have you guys seen her?" I asked, my heart surging in my chest.
"No," another voice snapped, and I turned to see Finley standing behind me. "We haven't heard anything about a pink-haired vamp, and if we had, we'd be going over to England to stake her because that's what we do. Now, let's go."
"You're lying!" I hadn't meant for my voice to be so loud, but it seemed to reverberate through the dark forest. "And if I ever hear the word
'stake' in reference to Jenna again, I will -"
"What?" Finley shouted back. "Push me down? Pull my hair? You don't have powers. We lost everything because of you, and you're useless. "
"Oh, I'm so sorry my lack of magic is inconvenient to you. And what do you mean you 'lost everything'?" Finley stepped closer to me, and in the soft glow of the moonlight, I could see that her eyes were bright with anger. "There weren't always just three of us. In fact, about seventeen years ago, there were nearly fifty. It still wasn't a lot, but it was something." She stopped and rubbed at her nose. "Until the others found out that your mom got knocked up by a demon. My mom was supposed to be the next head of the family, but instead, they kicked her out. They elected some distant cousin to lead them, some chick who wasn't even a direct descendant of Maeve Brannick."
"Okay, well, I'm sorry if your mom didn't get to be Head Brannick-In-Charge or whatever, but all of that happened before we were even born. So I really don't see-"
"Three months after the new leader was elected, she led the entire Brannick family on a raid to the biggest vampire nest in North America. Do I need to spell out what happened next?"
Sick to my stomach, I shook my head.
"It was stupid and pointless, and Mom would've known that," Finley said, nearly spitting her words. "If your mom hadn't gotten my mom kicked out of the Brannicks, that raid never would've happened. But you know what? When Torin said you'd be the one to stop the Casnoffs, I thought, Hey, maybe there was a point in losing our entire family. At least this freak can do something for us. But you can't. So all those Brannicks died for nothing."
I didn't know what to say to any of that. So in the end, I settled on what seemed like the easiest thing. "I'm sorry." She snorted, and reached down to fumble with something at her waist. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Now, let's finish this circuit before-" She didn't finish her sentence. This time, there was no howl, no crashing through the bushes. There was just a large dark shape, leaping out of the night, and Finley's scream as the werewolf landed on her.
CHAPTER 7
For a few seconds, everything descended into pandemonium. The werewolf was snarling, Izzy was yelling for Finley, and I had apparently dropped the backpack full of weapons again, since it wasn't in my hands anymore. As stupid as it sounds, I still waited a second, hoping to feel my magic swelling up from the soles of my feet. Would I ever get used to being...well, human?
My fingers finally closed over the strap of the bag, but even as I pulled it to me, I wondered just what I was going to do. I'd never fired a gun in my life, and I wasn't sure how exactly to stake something. Finley's and Aislinn's words echoed in my brain: Useless, useless, useless.
I glanced up to see Izzy holding the same knife she used on me last night, but as Finley and the Were scuffled in the dirt, Izzy wavered on her feet, obviously unsure of how to go after the creature without hurting Finley. I fished in the bag and drew out a handful of holy water vials. Rising to my feet, I chucked them at the werewolf's back with everything I had in me.
It turned out that wasn't a lot, because only one of the tiny bottles cracked. The others rolled harmlessly off its fur and onto the ground. Still, I got its attention.
It rose off of Finley and spun to face me, big strings of drool dripping from its muzzle.
I gulped as Finley scooted backward.