“Oh, bullshit.” His eyes widened. Annie wiped at her cheeks, anger whipping through the grief. “She’s gone, damn it. Dead. I don’t want to hear any pretty speeches about keeping her alive in my heart. I want to scream, and pound something, and rage about how much it absolutely sucks.”
Marcus raised one eyebrow. “You do have a way with words.”
She let out a hollow laugh. “Thanks.” Looking at each of them, she saw the pain, the exhaustion she felt stamped on their faces. “We were dying, weren’t we.”
Marcus let out his breath. “Natasha was chanting an ancient spell. If she completed it, she would have ripped our souls out and carried them with her to Hell.”
“God.” Annie sighed, let in what she had been pushing away since she had been told. “Claire was a—demon.”
Eric tightened the arm around her waist. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around that, and I saw her—change.”
“She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known.” Annie eased out of Eric’s grip, pushing to her feet. “And that’s how I’m going to remember her. How everyone is going to remember her. Got that?” Anger shoved down the grief, made it easier to breathe.
“No argument here,” Eric said. “I owe her my life.”
Marcus stood. “We need to dismantle the altar, make certain there is nothing left behind for someone to stumble into.” He looked at her. “Can you help me with that?”
Annie lifted her chin. “Bet your ass.”
He laughed, a real laugh. It eased the cold fist clenching her heart. “Come, then. Once we take some time, I will show you a trick or two. Your power can be nurtured or neglected. I am of the mind that Claire would want it nurtured.”
Annie looked over at Eric. “Now you know—I’m a witch.”
He studied her face, and she felt heat flush her cheeks.
“Yeah, now I know.”
She let out her breath, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved by his bland reaction. “So, are you up for helping?”
“I don’t—I won’t be any use—”
“Of course you will,” Marcus said. “You can wash out the bowls.”
The comment pulled a smile. To Annie’s surprise, Eric took her hand as the three of them walked to the edge of the cliff, kneeling in front of the altar. Annie swallowed when she saw what was assembled on the length of velvet.
“Natasha was going to do some big nasty, wasn’t she?” She glanced up at Marcus. “I heard enough to know she meant to take more than Claire with her.”
Eric spoke, his voice low. “She was going to buy her way home.” Annie looked at him, the anguish on his face twisting into her. “Katelyn was the first offering. Claire was supposed to be the last—God, why didn’t I remember that before now? I could have warned her—”
“And she would have done the exact same thing.” Annie twined their fingers together. “Because she protects the people she loves. God, I’m going to miss her.” Her voice broke over the last words, fresh tears blurring her eyes. “Damn it—let’s get this done.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I want to get the hell out of here.”
SEVENTEEN
Annie spent the next few days in a haze of grief. She had a sign printed for the store to announce that it was closing for good, and didn’t have the heart to put it up.
She wandered around the streets of Santa Luna, not seeing anything but the last moments of Claire’s life, blaming herself. Claire ended up on that cliff because of her. Because she was stupid enough to let Natasha catch her.
When that didn’t tear her up, the fact that Claire had been hiding who she really was, what she really was, ate at her. Why didn’t Claire trust her enough to tell her? The list of reasons kept her up at night.
She reported Claire as a missing person to the local police when enough time had passed. She moved into Claire’s house, gladly giving up her apartment, not wanting the house to sit vacant, vulnerable.
To compensate for the fact that she could no longer wear an earring in her right ear, she had her left ear pierced again, and wore two simple amethyst studs, because they helped her feel closer to Claire.
Slowly, she started picking up the pieces of her shattered life. And set them aside, because she couldn’t bear the pain of putting that life back together.
Eric stayed, moving to a hotel in town, spending more nights with her than in his hotel room. She cried in his arms every night, and refused to talk to him the rest of the time. Annie knew he worried about her, but she didn’t have the strength or the heart to talk about Claire.