“Whoa, I'm your girlfriend now?"
Archer shrugged. "We've tried to kill each other, fought ghouls, and kissed a lot. I'm pretty sure we're married in some cultures.”
“Jackass, jackass on the wall, where's the info on Hex Hall?”
“Um...Mercer? Haven't seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, 'Oh Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I've longed--”
“Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I’d used all my life was fake…
“So what should I call myself, then?” I asked. “Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?” Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn’t fit.
Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. “You can call yourself whatever you want.”
“Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is.”
“We could go to Lough Bealach,' Aislinn answered.
'Is that a place, or are you choking?' I asked, earning me a glare in return.
Dad made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.”
“Check out the magic crap.” He shot me a look. “Oh, is that what we’re supposed to be doing? Because I’ve just been drawing hearts and our initials in the dirt.”
“Archer turned back to me, and that familiar grin flashed over his face. “Come on, Mercer. Me, you, the cellar. What could go wrong?”
“Okay, fine. But just so you know, following me into hell means you’re all definitely the sidekicks.” “Darn, I was hoping to be the rakishly charming love interest,” Archer said, taking my hand.”
“I think I might have seen pride in Dad’s eyes. Or maybe it was just a gleam of Why is my offspring so insane?”
“No. Don't distract me with your sexy talk.”
“Oh, good, it worked,” Archer said, his ghostly face relieved. Unlike Elodie, his voice came in loud and clear, and so familiar that my heart broke all over again.
I stood frozen, my back against the door. Even though he was faint, I could see him smirk.
“Um…Mercer? Haven’t seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, ‘Oh, Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I’ve longed—’”
“You’re dead,” I blurted out, pressing a hand against my stomach. “You’re a ghost, and you think—”
All the humor disappeared from his face, and he held up both hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not dead. Promise.”
My heart was still hammering. “Then what the heck are you?”
Archer almost looked sheepish as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out some kind of amulet on a thin silver chain. “It’s a speaking stone. Lets you appear to people kind of like a hologram. You know. ‘Help me, Sophie-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.’”
“Did you steal it from the cellar at Hecate, too?” Archer had collected all sorts of magical knickknacks back when we had cellar duty at Hex Hall.
“No,” he said, offended. “I found it at a…store. For magical stuff. Okay, yes, I stole it from the cellar.”
“Trust me, after the Boy Issues I’ve had, I’m becoming a nun.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry," Archer offered.”
“So hologram means--" I finally said.
"It means non-corporeal, yeah. Which sucks seeing as how there are a lot of very corporeal things I'd like to do with you right now.”
“I think I can hold my own in smartassery.”
“Yeah, and we still have to deal with The Eye being…Eyeish, and me learning to be Head of the Council, which will probably involve lots of boring books and—” Archer pressed his mouth to mine, effectively shutting me up and kissing the hell out of me. When he pulled back, he was grinning. “And you have an arrogant, screwed-up former demon hunter who is stupidly in love with you.”
“Right. So no plans at all then?"
Jenna frowned. "Other than rocking in the fetal position for a while?"
"Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry," Archer offered.”
“You know, I can see more than just the future or the past."
"Really?" I asked, paging through through the papers in the file. "Can you also see the present? Because I can do that, too. Like, right now, I sense that I'm in a messy room with a total toolbox.”
“It’ll make you feel better.”
"By making me dead?” I asked. “I mean, I’m sure that would make my headache go away, but that’s a heck of a side effect.”
“People are so rarely villains in their own minds.”
“Jenna and Archer shared a look. “-Why would we need to ‘stay in touch’?” Jenna asked. “-Well, because…Look, I can’t ask you guys to stay at Hex Hall for a whole other year. Jenna, you have Vix, and Archer, you have…Actually, what DO you have?” “-You,” he said firmly. “And a whole bunch of holy knights who want to kill me.”
“We're going to the Underworld," Izzy said. She bounced a little as she said it, her eyes bright and her tone implying that "the Underworld" was akin to "Candy Land.”
“What else did he say?”
She screwed up her face. “Oh, some weird thing about telling you that he still feels the same way about that tent, and he promises to say it to you in person next time he sees you.”
I gave a bark of laughter that was more of a sob. “That asshat,” I blubbered.
Elodie nodded in sympathy. “Such an asshat.”
“In the past few hours, I’ve been possessed, nearly had my head caved in, and found out my mom is secretly a Prodigium hunter. And before that, I lost just about everyone else I care about, and discovered that people I trusted are secretly demon-raising creeps. My life sucks pretty hard right now. So, yeah. I’m making jokes.”
“I’m not thrilled. And I totally reserve the right to angst over all this later. But honestly, Mom? Right now, I’m so happy to see you that I wouldn’t care if you’re secretly a ninja sent from the future to destroy kittens and rainbows.”
“The spell...curled around...like smoke before settling in.
Sophie: "Okay, do you guys feel protected?"
Archer: "Yes. Also a little violated, but that's neither here nor there.”
“Archer, Jenna, and I weren’t exactly clutching each other and sobbing, but we were pretty shaken as we formed a little huddle. “Okay,” I finally said. “Can we all agree that this is maybe the most screwed-up situation we’ve ever found ourselves in?”
“Agreed,” they said in unison.
“Awesome.” I gave a little nod. “And do either of you have any idea what we should do about it?”
“Well, we can’t use magic,” Archer said.
“And if we try to leave, we get eaten by Monster Fog,” Jenna added.
“Right. So no plans at all, then?”
Jenna frowned. “Other than rocking in the fetal position for a while?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry,” Archer offered.
I couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “Great. So we’ll all go have our mental breakdowns, and then we’ll somehow get ourselves out of this mess.”
“Cal, Archer, Jenna and I managed to achieve something truly impressive: the *four-way* glance.”
“Look, we are dealing with the possibility of an army of demons. I don’t know about you guys, but those words are right up there with ‘root canal’ and ‘school on Saturdays’ in terms of things that terrify me.”
“The hand on my hair moved to my back, and I realized someone was singing softly. The voice was familiar, and something about it made my chest ache. Well, that was to be expected. Angels' songs would be awfully poignant.
"'I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you...'" the voice crooned.
I frowned. Was that really an appropriate song for the Heavenly Host to be--”
“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more, nor less.”
“احساس عشق کامل به رنگ سفید شبیه است. بسیاری گمان میکنند که سفید به معنای بی رنگی ست, در حالی که سفید تمامی رنگ ها را در بر دارد. سفید از ترکیب همه رنگ ها ایجاد می شود. به همین ترتیب عشق نیز فقدان احساساتی از قبیل تنفر, خشم,شهوت,حسادت و پنهانکاری نیست, بلکه حاصل جمع تمامی احساس هاست; حاصل جمع هر آنچه که هست.”
“Pravda, as you know, means ‘truth,’ and Izvestia means ‘news,’ and I’ve heard it said that there is no news in the Truth and no truth in the News.”
“you can tell a lot about a person from how they handle times of great stress.”
“There was only the cemetery itself, spread out in the moonlight like a soft grey hallucination, a stony wilderness of Victorian melancholy.”
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