Page 78 of A Resistance of Witches

“Deal with itnow,” Roger demanded.

Even from where she sat, Rebecca knew he’d made a fatal error. Claire was never one to take orders.

“You want to go up there and drag her out of bed right now, do you? Take her out back and shoot her in the head?”

“I’d do it. Absolutely.”

“Because she talked about your cousin?” Rebecca heard the derisive sneer in Claire’s voice.

“Because that’s what we do to traitors,” Roger hissed.

“I said I’d deal with it tomorrow.”

“And if she feeds you more bullshit?”

Another pause. Then Claire’s voice, low and calm. “I’ll kill her myself. You can watch.”

Even though Rebecca had known what Claire would say, she wasn’t prepared for the pain of hearing it.

Oh, mon cœur, mon cœur, she thought.I’m so sorry. I never should have come.

She padded back into the bedroom and took her shoes from under the bed, slipping them on in the dark. A man’s wool coat lay within reach, draped across the back of a chair; she put that on too. Whoever it belonged to might have needed it, but she would need it more. Claire had the keys to her car—Rebecca had seen them on the chain she wore around her neck, the one she never took off. There was a truck, but the bird-faced girl had taken it out earlier that day and hadn’t returned. That meant Rebecca had only one option—she would be leaving on foot.

She was just about to duck into bed and wait for the house to gosilent so she could slip out unseen under cover of darkness, when she heard shouting from downstairs.

“Someone’s coming!”

She heard a chair scraping across the floor, then Claire’s voice. “Where?”

Someone stirred in their bed. “What’s going on?” they murmured.

Rebecca, sitting upright on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in someone else’s coat, said nothing.

Soon, the whole room was awake and gathering at the windows, the air gone electric as the stranger approached the house. Rebecca quickly unbuttoned the coat, leaving it on the chair where she’d found it, and went to the window.

It took her eyes a moment to make out the figure in the darkness. It was a man, taller than average, and carrying something on a strap over his shoulder, but everything else was obscured by shadows. She heard cursing all around her as men scrambled to gather their weapons, but Rebecca stayed at the window, watching. When the stranger stepped into a patch of moonlight and looked up, she could just make out the contours of his face.

“Henry.”

She took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the footsteps and shouts behind her. Henry’s eyes widened as she sprinted toward him, out the peeling blue door and through the broken gate. She laughed in disbelief as his lips formed her name.

“Hands up!” someone yelled. Henry obeyed.

“He’s with me!” Rebecca barreled into him at full speed. She stumbled, then turned to see half a dozen men with guns drawn, pointed directly at them.

“Don’t shoot, damn it, he’s with me!”

Claire appeared in the doorway of the house.

“Claire!” Rebecca shouted. Claire watched in silence, leaning against the door frame, her face obscured in the dark. There was a long, terriblemoment when Rebecca was sure she would order her men to shoot them both. Finally, Claire spoke.

“Relax. Rebecca says he’s with her.” She looked at Rebecca, each word falling heavy as a stone. The men lowered their weapons. Rebecca turned and hugged Henry tightly. They barely knew each other, but Henry never hesitated or pulled away.

“How did you find this place?” She could feel Henry’s heart beating fast against her chest.

“It’s complicated.”

Rebecca pulled away. There was a strange look in his eyes. She’d seen that look before, in the faces of people who had seen too many terrible things. More than once she’d seen it in the mirror.

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