THE PLAN WAS simple. Mom and Dad would handle Peter Mathews. Sariah and Nate would distract Monica. And Xander and I would get Evelyn out of the house. It would be dangerous, but the faster we did this the better our chances were of being successful. The call to Evelyn gave Monica a heads up, we didn’t have any time to spare.
I expected the familiar yellow house to be suddenly ominous, but it was still bright and cheery in the fading light. The lacy white curtains in the window belied the evil that dwelled inside. I swallowed and hugged my parents tightly before grabbing Xander’s hand and dashing along the side of the house towards Evelyn’s window. Sariah and Nate went around the other side to the basement window that was always left unlocked. Mom and Dad went to the front door. I felt the wind pick up and a surge of energy from the front of the house as I edged around to Evelyn’s window. I leaned around just enough to see the room. Though it was dark, I could make out Evelyn’s silhouette on the bed. Xander and I waited until we heard the thud of the door crashing open to make our move. Xander broke the window and pulled himself into the room. He put a blanket over the sill to protect me from the broken glass and helped me in. I couldn’t help but notice his skin felt strange, but decided to dismiss it until I had time to deal with it later.
I switched on the reading lamp on the desk. Evelyn looked even worse than she had a few hours ago at my house. Her eyes were sunken and completely engulfed by black circles. Slashes crisscrossed her forearms, some new and some a few months old. I wondered if that had to do with her ritual or her parents.
I turned away before the sight made me cry. I would not feel sorry for her after the horrible things she had done. She caused the death of four people, and I couldn’t overlook that despite the fact she believed she was helping people. I grabbed some clothes and shoved them into her duffel bag. I moved over to her desk grabbing her journal and some of her other papers when I noticed a book open and felt my hands go cold. The pages of the spell book were stained with a few wax drips and a spot of blood. I quickly skimmed the text and her notes in the margin. The spell was designed to keep a witch from sensing Otherworlders. I could tell by the notes in the margins that the first time she did the spell was the night before school started. I remembered feeling dizzy and the sudden need for fresh air.
We were about to scoop Evelyn up off the bed when something heavy hit the door, jarring the frame. Xander motioned for me to hide, so I pressed myself against the wall between the door and the desk. My brother faded until I couldn’t see him, becoming a sort of heat haze as he moved towards the door. Slowly it eased open and the haze disappeared behind the piece of wood. I peered through the little crack to see what was going on. My mom pushed herself up from the floor, a small drop of blood on her lip. Heading back into the living room, she wiped it away with the back of her hand. A flash of light and Sariah’s scream sent me sprinting into chaos.
Mom placed her hand on dad’s shoulder. I could feel the energy in the room surge. Peter’s eyes were completely white, and he seemed to be silhouetted though there was no light behind him. He threw out a hand, My father’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor. I could see the strain and pain on his face, but he never took his eyes off the witch. The Xander’s hazy shape went up to Mr. Matthews. I saw the surge as Xander’s fist connected with Mr. Mathews’ face, sending him flying across the coffee table to land awkwardly on the couch.
“Xander, no!” Mom snapped, and suddenly my brother was visible. The flames of anger in his eyes were no longer confined to his irises, but his entire eye was consumed in blue flames. “You can never let the bloodlust have control.”
I glanced into the kitchen to see Nate and Sariah grappling with Mrs. Mathews. Sariah had a knife sticking out of her shoulder. Nate definitely had the upper hand, throwing things around with blasts of wind and hurling lightning bolts, but they all seemed to melt before they hit her. “Xander, help Nate!” I yelled as I went to my parents in the living room. “I’ll help Dad.”
I took my dad’s right hand, and Mom took his left. I felt the power of the world around me for the first time in my life. I pulled it in, letting it travel through me into my father. The ground began to rumble and the living room shook as if the earth was coming to battle with us. Peter stood to face us, his dark hair whipping in the wind that was picking up speed and power in the living room. He was battered by objects torn from tables and shelves but remained unfazed. I saw a large book that normally sat on the coffee table smack him in the head, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Lightning shot from my father’s hand striking Peter so hard he was blown out of his tennis shoes. He landed in a heap beneath the large picture window, and my father hit him with a second then a third bolt. I didn’t think Mr. Matthews was getting back up after that.
The living room strewn with debris. The rise and fall of Mr. Mathews’ chest was the only indication he clung to life as he lay at an odd angle on the floor. My dad was climbing to his feet with my mother’s help. He gave me a weary smile, but I knew he would be ok.
“Noooooo!” A shriek came from the kitchen.
Everything went into slow motion. Monica jerked out of my brother’s hands, grabbed the knife out of my sister’s shoulder, and ran towards us. Throwing my arm up over my face, I stepped towards my father as he attempted to shove me behind him. Mom grabbed for her wrist, but Mrs. Matthews shoved her with an arm against her chest, knocking her off her feet. My hands reached over his shoulder and locked around her forearm trying to keep the blade away from my father. The knife got closer and closer as she fought me with an unnatural strength. I strained and my muscles shook. I wouldn’t give up. I pressed against his back trying to get better leverage when I felt my father jerk. The knife was thrust deep into his chest. He made a gurgling noise as he crumpled, pulling the blade out of her grasp.
Something snapped inside me. I didn’t feel timid or afraid. I just felt the red-hot fury flooding my body. I balled my hand into a fist and hit her with everything I could muster—putting all my pain and frustration into that single move. I felt crunching as I connected with her nose, but I wasn’t sure if it was her or me. Fire exploded in my hand, radiating up my arm. I gritted my teeth and tried not to shake my hand or give any sign that I was in pain.
Blood poured from Monica’s nose, but her twisted expression didn’t change. Before I could go for her again a wooden carving board met the back of her head with a solid thud. Mrs. Matthews went down like her bones had melted revealing Sariah standing behind her with a snarl on her lips. A silent void encompassed the room as we all stared at each other, wide eyed and bloody.