Page 150 of Cold Curses
“Odds?” Connor asked.
“Sixty-eight percent,” Uncle Catcher said. “He’ll definitely think it’s monster. He’ll try to take it out, and that’s where the risk comes in. The spell has to be completely uploaded for him to be completely depleted of demon and ley line magic. If he thinks something is amiss, he may stop midway.”
And if he stopped midway, he might not be beatable. But we were on the clock, so we had what we had.
“We’ll make it work,” I said. “How long will it take you to set up?”
“We’re ready when you are,” Lulu said.
I glanced at Roger, got his nod. I looked up at Connor, and he squeezed my hand. Even Bloodletter bounced. It had no love for Jonathan Black.
“Now would be good,” I said. “Let’s finish this.”
* * *
Roger and Theo coordinated with Gwen. Petra would provide backup. Connor and a few wolves he trusted, including Alexei and Dan, would also help, and they discussed protocol among themselves.
I pulled Lulu aside. “How bad is it going to be?”
“How bad is what going to be?”
I gave her a flat look. “We have to pretend Black is pulling outof me a sentience that’s been there for two decades. The new thing won’t have been there that long, but he’s still going to try to drag it out. How bad is that going to hurt?”
“Not great. Maybe ripping a Band-Aid off a yeti?”
I nodded. That wouldn’t be fun, but I’d live through it. “Anything else your parents don’t want me to worry about?” It was the danger of well-meaning parents.
“You’re going to be vulnerable while he’s in there, so you want it to go as quickly as possibly. Don’t distract him with too much fighting back. I mean, make it look realistic, but you want him to download as fast as he can.” She glanced at the sword. “Maybe throw some energy his way. He doesn’t know what the Egregore really feels like. But he knows what thesword’smagic feels like.”
It jiggled.
“How did you get your virus to feel like monster?” I asked.
“My mom ponied up some blood,” Lulu said. “It was her magic, so her essence is part of monster’s essence.”
This was a very tangled web.
* * *
For the second time that week, I submitted to bespelling, which sounded more arch and Gothic than it actually was. I sipped a green sports drink while Lulu, with her mom’s guidance and her dad’s supervision, drew symbols on my arms with fragrant oil.
“This is the atmospheric magic,” Lulu said. “It gives the right tang.”
I nearly choked on green drink. “I don’t think I want tang about my person, thanks.”
“Six or eight showers and you’ll be fine,” Uncle Catcher said.
I was sixty-eight percent sure he was joking.
I felt heavier in the vehicle en route to the port, like the magic had added physical mass. Add that to monster’s new position, and I was feeling a little unbalanced. And a little worried I hadn’t hadtime to practice using Bloodletter. While it was nearly identical in weight and length to my sword—the one Black had snapped—the handle’s diameter was different. Maybe only by millimeters but different. That could make a big difference in a martial art that relied in part on muscle memory.
“Don’t get broken in half,” I whispered to it, “or get me broken in half.”
If a sword could snort, it did that.
“You know where you’re supposed to go?” I asked Connor.
He sat beside me, arms folded and eyes closed, one curl over his forehead. He looked surprisingly relaxed. “I know,” he said, and regarded me with the one eye he bothered to open. “I know that you’re prepared and that you’ve gone through the scenarios a dozen times in your head. Now we get to bury him.”
