Industrial Magic - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,170

have pursued you through every level of Hell to wreak my revenge. As it is, though, things are a bit”—his smile broadened, showing his teeth—“easier.”

Benicio lifted his hands and said the last three words of the incantation. As his hands flew down, a lightning bolt severed Edward’s head from his neck.

No one moved. We all stood in shock, watching Edward’s head roll across the alley.

Benicio lifted his hands again. This time, his voice boomed down the alley, as he cursed Edward’s soul for eternity.

Full Circle

FOR ME, THE CASE TRULY ENDED ONLY WHEN IT RETURNED to where it had begun: with a teenage witch named Dana MacArthur.

While we’d been tracking Edward, Randy MacArthur had finally arrived in Miami to see his daughter. When the initial flurry of activity over Edward’s execution died down, we admitted to Benicio that Dana was gone. Of course, the Cortez Cabal wasn’t taking Jaime’s say-so, but their necromancers tried to contact Dana and confirmed that she had indeed passed over. So, two days later, Lucas, Savannah, and I stood in a Cabal cemetery and said good-bye to a girl we’d never known.

Since I’d now seen what lay on the other side, Dana’s passing pained me less than it might have. Yet I still felt the full weight of the tragedy her death brought for her father and her younger sister, and maybe even her mother. Even for Dana herself, there was tragedy here. She’d gone to a good place, and I was sure she’d be happy, but that didn’t mean her life hadn’t been cut short, that she hadn’t missed out on so much. And for what? To avenge the death of a vampire who had herself killed so many, gone so far beyond the needs of her nature? As I stood in that cemetery, listening to the minister try to eulogize a girl he’d never met, I looked out across the graves and thought of all the other fresh graves in other Cabal cemeteries. I glanced over at Savannah, and thought about Joey Nast, the cousin she never knew. On the other side of the group of mourners, I could see Holden Wyngaard, a plump red-haired boy, now the lone survivor. I thought of the others. Jacob Sorenson. Stephen St. Cloud. Colby Washington. Sarah Dermack. Michael Shane. Matthew Tucker. All gone. And how many tombstones would it take to commemorate the lives of everyone else Edward and Natasha had killed, the scores of humans they’d murdered trying to become immortal? I thought of that, of all those lives, and I couldn’t for one second disagree with what Benicio had done. No matter what kind of hell Edward now faced, it was no less than he deserved.

I looked out at the small crowd gathered around Dana’s open grave. Her mother wasn’t there. I still wondered what had gone wrong in that woman’s life to make her abandon her daughter, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether having a Coven would have helped. I’m sure it would have, at least for Dana. If she’d had other witches to turn to, she would never have ended up on the streets of Atlanta, and now here.

Yet, as bad as I felt for Dana, I had to accept that the responsibility for starting a second Coven did not lie squarely on my shoulders. I was willing to start one. I would always be willing, and I’d make that willingness known, but I would no longer actively try to convince witches that they needed a Coven. They had to come to see that for themselves. In the meantime, I certainly didn’t lack for work. I had an interracial council to reform and a new partnership with Lucas to pursue. Yes, I would have been more comfortable pouring my energy into a dream that started with me, but I think part of growing up is realizing that everything doesn’t have to be mine. It could be ours, and that wasn’t a show of weakness or dependence. I liked what Lucas did. I believed in it. I wanted to share it. And, if he wanted to share it back, well, that was damned near perfect.

When the service ended, Benicio leaned over and whispered an invitation to lunch, before we left for Portland. We agreed, and he slipped away to offer final condolences to Randy MacArthur.

The others had all gone their separate ways. The werewolves left Miami the morning after the showdown with Edward. Cassandra and Aaron had followed later that day, after they’d

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