The threat of death only silenced Landry for about a half mile. There were only two neighborhoods until we were back in the French Quarter, but his commentary made it feel like we were walking across the continent. Especially because we were all considerably more uneasy after his confession. We didn't get to him fast enough. I wondered if he'd be able to live with what he'd done, if and when he was exorcised.

The memory of throwing the stake into Brigitte flashed in my head. That was different, Isaac.

Codi grew tenser as the guy repeatedly called him derogatory names, many of which I'd never heard but which were all apparently synonymous with pansy.

"So much for your calming powder," he said through gritted teeth to Dee.

"Well, maybe if our would-be Aether coven member hadn't turned out to be a backstabbing, power-grabbing, two-faced witch, she could have persuaded him to be quiet, and I wouldn't have to use the powder."

Codi's jaw clenched tighter. No one was forgetting that Annabelle's crew had beat him so badly he'd nearly bled out at the convent.

Désirée's pace quickened, her steps punching through the tense air. I never saw her get so worked up as when Annabelle was mentioned. Annabelle had tricked us all, but she'd been Désirée's best friend since kindergarten, so the resentment ran deep. I knew she felt responsible for Annabelle. We both did. Adele had tried to warn us, but we wouldn't listen, and she was the one who ended up suffering the most because of it.

My thumbs pressed down hard on my fingers, cracking my knuckles.

Annabelle was MIA. Dee had gone to her house looking, only to learn that she must have mind-melded her parents: Mrs. Drake told her that Annabelle had been accepted into an early admittance program at Vanderbilt for Storm kids and was in Tennessee for the semester.

All the Ghost Drinkers had vanished that night, including Callis. We didn't know whether Emilio had finished him off or whether he'd just fled, but it was hard to imagine anyone surviving that vampire attack. Emilio had practically ripped his throat out. We still didn't really know who Callis was. Of course, I was sure Nicco had all the answers. The only thing I knew for certain was that this all had to do with Niccolò Medici and his low-life family. A part of me wished I'd taken Callis straight to the convent when he'd asked about the Carter brothers. Not that I would have joined his ghost-sucking coven or anything like that, but they could have settled their business without us—without Adele getting into the middle of it. Without Adele's mother getting killed. Her mother was a Medici vampire. What the fuck?

"You killed my mother."

Adele is never going to speak to me again.

Landry had moved on to Dee with his commentary, but I barely heard it through the ashy haze of Adele's words. I hated that Adele was in pain. I hated that she'd lost her magic. I hated that her mother was dead . . . but Adele would be dead if I hadn't thrown that stake.

Dead.

Brigitte had tried to kill her own daughter!

That's how repugnant these monsters were.

"I should have known the Devil'd be a young black girl," the guy crowed, "with legs as lickable as licorice sticks."

Désirée flinched.

"What did you say?" I spun around and grabbed him by the throat.

"Don't tell me that you don't think about what her skin tastes like."

"You piece of shit."

"Isaac, don't!" Dee screamed.

My fist smashed into his face.

"Stop!"

I drew back to hit him again, but before I could land another punch, Codi was dragging me off. "Let it go, Isaac!"

I jerked away, but he held on. "All right!" I yelled.

The guy spat blood from his busted lip, half-wailing, half-cursing.

"Christ, Isaac," Désirée said, seething, as she knelt next to him.

"What? You think I'm going to let someone talk to you— Didn't you hear—?"

"Just shut up!" she snapped, the anger on her face melting into humiliation.

My mouth closed. Embarrassment was not a Désirée Borges trait.

She refused to look at either of us as she healed the scumbag. Her voice was weak when she finally spoke. "It's not anything I haven't been hearing my entire life . . ." Her voice sharpened. "From people who don't have the excuse of a parasitic soul."

Codi's eyes caught mine in a sobering exchange. I wasn't oblivious to the racist-sexist-homophobic shit still happening in the world, so I didn't know why I found this so shocking. I guess I just never thought about it happening to Désirée—not in her world of publicists and sophistication.

"I'm sor—"

"And I don't need some white boy to save me!"

"I— I know you don't!"

When she stood, she rocked a little, and I instinctually reached out for her elbow to steady her from the recoil, but then I froze, unsure if she wanted me to.

"Let's . . ." she started to say, but her eyes fluttered and her knees buckled.

Codi stepped in and caught her, holding her steady. "Don't worry, I'm multi everything: racial, mixed magic, and raised by gays in a tarot shop."

She smiled as her head bobbed.

His mouth turned into her ear, but I still heard him softly say, "Feel the ground through your feet."

I wondered if this recoil thing would always be an effect of her Spektral magic, or if she'd grow out of it as she became a stronger witch. I did not like seeing her so vulnerable. Ritha had said she needed to lean more into the magic instead of transferring so much of her own healthy energy to others.

Her eyes popped open, looking straight at me. "Let's go."

Codi slung her bag over his shoulder, took the vine, and told Landry to get a move on. At the first sign of mumbles from Landry's lips, he pulled out a fistful of chamomile buds from Désirée's bag and blew them into his face. "No more talking. Walk." They floated around his head, putting him in an instant state of relaxation.

We followed streetcar tracks that I'd yet to see function, falling into silent pairs, Dee and I behind Codi and Landry. Whenever I checked on her out of the corner of my eye, she was always looking straight ahead. Sweat broke across my hairline. Awkwardness wasn't something I was used to with her. At first impression, I'd thought she was a spoiled, privileged, over-entitled brat, but when we finally started hanging out, I'd realized that our lives weren't that different: both kids of men in government with positions of power. But the way that guy had spoken to her—in my entire life, no one had ever said anything like that to me. Not even close.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't know if I was apologizing for hitting the guy, or for what he'd said to her, or for how fucked up the world was.

She didn't say anything or glance my way, but the air between us began to feel lighter. By the time we cleared the Warehouse District, the tension had dissipated.

The buildings became taller and more modern as we crossed into New Orleans's central business district. It had a similar vibe to downtown Brooklyn: a mix of mini-skyscrapers and prewar buildings. The thoughts of home led to my most regular daydream, where I showed Adele all my favorite places in New York.

"You killed my mother."

We passed by shutdown hotels and a ruined Starbucks and one closed restaurant after another, and then at some point things shifted—instead of me checking in on Désirée, I sensed little glances of concern coming from her.

"What?" I finally asked, gently, in a way that pleaded with her not to pry.

"What's wrong?" Of course, she pried.

I didn't say anything.

So she continued, "I'm usually the aggressive one, not you. You're the soft, sensitive artist guy. If I didn't know better, I'd think one of these parasites hooked you. Should I be holding a mirror up to your face? You're supposed to be the empathetic one."

I think you're confusing me with Adele.

"What's wrong, Isaac?"

"Well, my girlfriend was taken by a coven of Ghost Drinkers, robbed of her magic, and nearly killed in the process. Then she was bitten by her starved vampire mother, who I locked in an attic and then later killed."

"Yeah, besides all of that. I know something else happened. Stop trying to hide it from me."

My fingers tightened around my thumbs. I might not have been possessed by an extra soul, but the mix of anger and guilt and confusion swirling around inside me felt like something was eating me alive. The worst was the helplessness. I knew Adele wanted space, but there was a difference between space and isolation, and I was scared she'd crossed the line. Remembering how skinny she looked the other day gnawed the inside of my stomach.

"Isaac," she said sternly. "Did one of the Medici threaten you? If something happened and you aren't telling me, I'm going to kill you myself."

"I haven't had any vampire run-ins."

"Then what?"

My eyes stayed glued to the ground. I didn't want to tell her, to admit what had happened. But then I realized, she was gone. When I turned back, she was just standing there, feet planted, arms crossed.

Fuck. My hands laced on top of my head.

I paced a couple steps away, looking up at the dark buildings and oak tree branches, and the words gurgled out into the darkness: "I ran into Mac the other day."

And by ran into, I mean, I went to Adele's house, because I thought I might actually lose my mind if I didn't talk to her.

Everything behind me went perfectly silent. The wind rustled an old, torn flag hanging above us. I'd meant to tell them the whole truth; I don't know why I didn't.

When I turned back around, Julie was beside them and all three were looking back at me, wide-eyed.

"What! Why didn't you—?" Désirée couldn't get her questions out fast enough.

"Did you see Adele?" Codi asked, sharply. "Was she okay?"

"Are you okay?" she echoed.

I nodded. I'd never lied to them before, but I couldn't talk about how small and frail Adele had looked, or how she'd kept looking at the door handle and back to me, like I was a monster blocking her only escape route. I straightened my shoulders. "Mac had no idea who I was . . . None. When he answered the door, it was just like that first morning. He asked if I needed help, if I was lost." I know this was Nicco's doing. I know he deleted Mac's memories. "It's not like it matters. It's not like things would have gone back to the way they were. I killed his wife!"

Désirée threw her arms up in exasperation. "You saved his daughter from a vampire!"

"I killed Adele's mom!"

"Isaac, Adele's mother was going to drain her," Codi stammered. "I-I wish there'd been something I could have done."

"You were half-dead."

"She saved me that night. And you saved her. End of story."

Désirée looked at him. "Don't you mean I saved you that night?"

"I'd have been way past the point of saving when you arrived if Adele hadn't lured her mother away from me."

"What do you mean?" That night Codi had muttered something in his delirious, near-death state about Adele saving him from a vampire, but I'd just assumed he meant Nicco or Lisette or one of the others.

"At the convent . . . Adele's mom came at me first. Maybe she wouldn't even have come into the room if I hadn't been covered in blood. Adele was out cold after dragging me into the room to hide." He pinched his forehead. "I barely even remember getting from Callis's circle to inside, but I woke up to Mrs. Le Moyne leaning over me. I hadn't seen her since I was a kid, but I knew it was Adele's mom. She looked exactly the same, except her eyes were . . . savage, and so black. That's what I remember: those huge dilated eyes. I started begging her to remember me, and then Adele's voice came from the dark corner. She was trying to coax her mother away, but Brigitte just leaned closer and . . . that's when Adele did it."

"Did what?" I asked sharply.

He nodded to the necklace dangling against my chest. "That feather. She slashed her arm open with it. I yelled at her to cover up the blood, but she wouldn't listen to me. You know how Adele is . . . And then her mother turned away from me and attacked her. I-I could barely move."

Désirée and I stared at him in horror. I thought we'd known everything about that night, at least everything he could tell us.

He turned to Dee. "Don't get me wrong. I'm totally appreciative of your phenom Spektral powers, but I'd have been dead on arrival if it weren't for Adele."

Of course Adele would sacrifice herself for someone she loved.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I asked.

"I don't know. It just seemed like something she might not want people knowing."

The idea that there might be things Adele wouldn't want us—me—to know was slicing. Why didn't she just tell me about her mom? The feeling of the freshly whittled cedar strapped tight against my ankle gave me a pretty good idea.

Codi looked me dead on. "You didn't kill her mother, Isaac. A vampire did, a long time ago. You saved Adele, and even if she doesn't see it now—"

"I know! And I'd do it all over again if I had to. I'd do it over a hundred times!" I kicked the metal grate of a trash can. Calm down, Isaac. But I didn't want to calm down. I wanted to break every window on the block and scream at Adele until she'd listen to me and stop trusting vampires. If you can't trust your own vampire mother not to kill you, how could you trust any of them?

Désirée walked over to me with an awkward look on her face. She spread her long, smooth arms over my shoulders and linked them behind my neck. They didn't cradle my shoulders, just kind of hovered, barely touching me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm giving you a hug. Isn't this what people like you do?"

"You call this a hug?"

"You look like a flamingo practicing a ballet pose," Codi said.

Landry began murmuring. "An angel. An angel's coming to save me."

My gaze followed his to a dim glowing orb not too far from Désirée's head. I slid my arms around her, knowing her impulse would be to do the opposite of whatever I said. "Désirée. Do not move."

"Wh-a-a?" Her spine stiffened. "Is it a roach? Get it off me!"

I held her tighter as she squirmed. "Not a roach."

"Shit!" Codi said, staring at the bobbing light with awe.

"What?"

I tightened my grip, keeping us both as still as possible as the little ball of light hovered. One touch of a soul meant possession, and in the current state of things, possession meant death.

Codi slowly pointed to a dormant fountain about fifty yards away in a public square. He flashed three fingers.

Two.

One. The fountain sprang to life, arcs of water dancing through the air. I threw us to the ground, away from the glowing orb, trying not to land too hard on top of Désirée.

"What?" she yelled, then followed my gaze to Codi, who was running toward the fountain, the orb zooming behind him. "Codi, behind you!"

I ripped a gust of air toward the orb, trying to slow it down. Codi looked back and threw his arm over his shoulder. An arc of water from the fountain whizzed through the air like an iridescent chain. He spun around and stopped, weaving his hands through the air—the chain of droplets threaded itself together into a sparkling chain-link fence and planted itself into the ground as the soul zoomed straight to him.

Désirée screamed, but the orb bounced off the water and bobbed in the air. Codi peered at it through his Water magic.

"Jesus," she gasped.

He carefully pushed his hands toward the liquid fence and then twisted them together. The water followed his command, circling the ball of light over and over, until it was completely encased.

I sensed Désirée's breath halt as Codi cupped the air around the sphere. Fingers spread wide, he rocked his hands around the soul, careful not to touch the light, and the chain of water swayed back and forth with the motion of his hands until all the tiny droplets congealed, forming a single bubble around the glowing soul. There must have been oil mixed into the stagnant fountain water, because the bubble had a holographic sheen like the abalone shells I used to collect at the beach with my mom.

I moved closer, mesmerized by the whole thing, but Désirée hung back. Julie hung even farther back, near Landry, trying to keep Stormy, who definitely thought the ball of light was a new supernatural tennis ball, at bay.

"What's wrong?" Codi yelled to Désirée.

She peered at the bubble, and back to him.

"Hey," he snapped. "Just because I don't have my Maleficium yet doesn't mean there's anything wrong with my Elemental magic."

"I-I know. It's just . . . I've never been that close to one before."

Codi's Aunt Fiona and her three daughters had been the ones officially tasked with capturing lingering souls.

"Well, today's your lucky day." He walked over and took her hand. "Don't worry, my magic's got you."

Her eyes widened as he led her to the bubble. We all stood around it, and Codi swirled his hand, making the orb spin in the moonlight.

Désirée, no longer scared, was now totally enchanted by the glowing entity in front of her. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"Heathens." Landry hissed, writhing in Désirée's leash, trying to rip the vine from the lamppost.

She snapped her fingers, and a sapling, not more than two feet tall, sprang from a crack in the sidewalk. With a flick, it wrapped itself around Landry's head, stuffed itself into his jaw and muffled his words.

She walked over to him and leaned close to his face. "No. More. Talking."

Things were significantly more chill for the rest of the walk back to the Quarter. When we passed Bottom of the Cup, Codi peeled off with the soul, and Dee and I continued on to Vodou Pourvoyeur with Landry.

Because that's how the two magical families had divided the responsibilities of the current supernatural crisis: the Borges were trying to figure out how to exorcise the Possessed, and the Daures were trying to figure out what the hell to do with the loose souls.