Page 63 of Her Wicked Knights
"In every lifetime, I die first." Whit says, his voice surprisingly calm. "It's my death that serves as the catalyst for everything else. I die, and then Marley, and then all of you."
The air is heavy with the silence as we all try to wrap our head around what he just told us, what we believe to be possible, and what the fuck we just went through. It feels like a bad trip, like I drank a bottle of my dad's scotch and then decided to takesome acid, too, just for fun. I've never done the latter, but I can't imagine I'd enjoy it, particularly after today.
"What the fuck does this mean?" Rev asks, puncturing the silence. "We're cursed or something?"
"You can't believe this?" I laugh, because it's absurd. And even though a large part of me knows what I just witnessed was real, my brain is having a hard time getting on board with the reality of something I've always considered fantasy. Magic, time travel, spells and curses. It's always been shit that people make up because real life is boring, because we want our lives to mean something and to believe that the world isn't just a hellscape.
"Yeah." Rev snaps. "Considering I've seen it and felt it, I know what's real."
I don't argue. There's no point, because even I know that he's right. I know that it's real.
It's all real. Everything we've felt for her, built on lifetimes of this same love.
It doesn't feel real, and yet, it does.
Because there's nothing I've ever understood more than the fact that Marley Lavigne is fucking magic. I'd die a thousand times to be alone with her for a single night.
"So, what does this mean?"
It's Tripp who asks, his eyes on Whit, who seems to have mellowed now.
He sighs, chuckling ever so slightly. "Well, it looks like we can't kill Marley Lavigne. If the anchor dies, we all do."
I should feel relieved by that, but there's too many implications.
"So, the question is," Whit muses, "then who do we kill?"
Tripp's gaze collides with mine. It's ruthless, cold and savage. It's so unlike him that my heart falters for a minute. But he doesn't have to say what he's thinking. And neither do I.
Because Rev does it for us.
"Audrey Graves."
32
Tripp
There'ssomethingwrongwithme. Maybe I always knew as much, but it's never been more evident as it has since all this shit with Whit began... since we decided to save the girl we love by sacrificing someone else in her place.
Maybe the right thing to do would be to get help from somewhere over our heads. Audrey sucks, sure, but killing her? It's wrong, no matter how fucking obnoxious she is.
But as Halloween draws closer and we devise a plan, my guilt wanes. She clearly has no remorse about killing the Lavignes, and she doesn't seem to be worried about what fate she thinks is becoming Marley. In fact, I think she may even get some satisfaction out of planning her best friend's murder, if the way she's thrown herself into planning is anything.
"Okay," Whit says, blowing out a breath. "We need to be a well-oiled machine. Tell me again how you're going to get her there."
"Simple. She does everything I want." Audrey shrugs one shoulder, like she's proud of herself. "I've already told her Iwanted to go to the theme park. She's nervous, but I begged until she promised she'd go."
Whit nods. "And you'll be able to get her into the haunted house?"
"We'll be able to help with that." Mark says, leaning forward in the church pew. "Audrey will lead her straight to me, Carson, and Nick. We'll help shepherd her forward to the final house."
Listening to everyone talk so casually about killing the girl I've loved my entire life makes me want to murder every last one of them. But I catch Whit's eye, seeking reassurance that he's not going to let this all go haywire. I hate that we even have to put her in this situation, but it's the most effective trap we can set. Whit was right that this one has to be public; it has to have a witness. And who wouldn't believe sweet, innocent Marley Lavigne? When she says she knows nothing, that she nothing, people will believe her. And if we do this right, she'll never know that her best friend led her there like a lamb for the slaughter.
"The five of us," Whit gestures to Colton, Rev and I before nodding to Jake, "will be waiting at the final house. It's Wax Museum themed, three distinct rooms. I did some reconnaissance on opening weekend. If you wait until the end of the night, we can make sure you're last in line. We shut the door after, sealing you in... sealingherin. After that, the only way out is continuing through. The last room is where we'll be waiting."
"How are we killing her?" Audrey asks. "And how are you getting weapons in to a theme park?"
"Iamthe weapon." Whit laughs coldly. "And once we harvest her magic, so will you all. Don't worry about the details of that."
