“I can do it,” Angie said.
“No, Angie. You can’t,” Liz said.
“That isn’t happening,” Daddy Bigger said.
“In a moment of panic,” Edmund said, “Angelina merged all of these energies. I fear that if this temporal deactivation explodes, time-warped-space and broken death magics might destroy the surrounding area. Might perhaps result in worse consequences.”
Liz cursed. Daddy looked mad. George had no idea what that meant.
Angie said, “Edmund can carry me up the hedge. I can pull the threads through and unravel all but the last strands. Then we can slide back down with me holding them. On the ground, I can pull them. The hedge and the temporal thing should fall.”
She tilted her head, watching her family. She smelled satisfied, the way a pack leader smelled when they were right and expected the others to bow down and show bellies in submission.
Edmund said, “You figured that out on your own?”
She sighed. “Somebody hadda. It’s my fault.”
“You didn’t do this on purpose, Angie Baby,” Cia said. “If your mama hadn’t drawn on the death magics, they wouldn’t have been there to get tangled up in your shield.”
“If Mama hadn’t used them, then EJ and me woulda watched Mama and Daddy die.”
Daddy Bigger sucked in a breath and smelled of bitter fear.
Edmund said, “As viewed from a military perspective rather than a personal one, Angie is correct. It will take all of us to stop this, and only Angelina can untangle the energies.”
Daddy started to argue, but he stopped, staring at Edmund. “You swore to protect my family.”
“Even to my undeath. Yes.”
Cia said, “Angie needs food and water first.” She went to her car and brought back a bottle of water and a banana. She smelled angry.
Angie ate and drank and went behind the tree where EJ had peed. When she was done, Edmund held out a hand and Angie placed her small hand into his.
Edmund adjusted Angie on his back, wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. “Hang on tightly.”
She did. He stepped back several yards, toed off his shoes, and raced at the hedge fast, fast. Fast as a vampire possibly could. Air popped.
George raised his head and watched and smelled. The vampire loved Angie. This was a good thing. A good love.
Edmund sped up the side of the hedge. At the top of the magics, he stopped and swung Angie off his back, sitting her on the slightly curved dome of energies, the blanket that had kept George and EJ warm, around her. George hadn’t noticed when it was taken.
Full of fear and courage, Angie said, “Can we run like that when I’m not scared and cold?”
Edmund chuckled. “If we succeed, Angelina, I will take you on a full moon run. For now, can you untangle the magics?”
She pressed her fingers against the energies of the original ward and pressed through them, her tiny fingers twisting back and forth. She pulled a strand of yellow energy up and up and had to stand on the dome of energy to continue. Edmund steadied her to keep her from slipping, and still she pulled the energy strand through the small opening she had made. She tossed it and began another.
Much time passed.
George went to pee again. He snuffled the wonderful smells near the road. Rat, raccoon, opossum, weasel, squirrels, bird—and vampire and Angie in the air, up high. More time passed as George snuffled, and sunrise had begun to tint the sky gray when Angie sat back from the opening, leaning against Edmund’s legs in exhaustion.
George raced closer to the hedge on his stubby powerful legs and watched.
Angie held her hands in front of her. He saw flashes of light and pulses of power in them, though there was nothing real to focus on.
“I’m done,” she said. She spoke so softly that George knew the others didn’t hear. Only his beautiful ears heard. “Being an Everhart is hard.”
“Why is that?” Edmund asked.
George knew. Power is dangerous.
Hurry, KitKit whispered.
“We have to save the world sometimes. Like Ant Jane.”
“Ah. That is indeed a heavy burden. Do you have the strands you want?”
“I have two. I can’t ride down on your back. You can carry me like a bride!”
“Oh, Angelina.” Edmund said, sounding sad and…depressed?
Angie said, “We’re never gonna get married, are we?”
“It is unlikely,” Edmund said gently, helping her to stand.
“I woulda made a beautiful bride.”
Edmund choked back a laugh and lifted her into his arms. “Coming down,” he shouted, and leaped. His bare feet caught the surface, skidding along the frozen energy.
He dropped to his backside when the angle became too great to maintain balance. They hit the ground at a run.
“Twenty minutes until sunrise,” Liz said. “Cutting it close, fanghead.”
Edmund set Angie on the ground and said to her, “Give me one minute to get in back to take out the time-frozen humans there. Then I want you to say, ‘One, two, three,’ and yank the strands of magic on three.”
He looked up. “Cia and Liz will rush in the moment the magic falls and help your mother. Evan, you’ll have to carry Angie to safety. Are you up to it?”
“Yeah. I can do that.”
But George thought he smelled weak, as if he was about to die. George whined softly. Edmund glanced at him in what George interpreted as kindness and strength.
George went silent.
“On three,” Edmund said again. “I’ll hear you.” He raced away.
A moment later Angie said, “One, two, three!” She jerked the last strands from the energies. The hedge of thorns shrieked. It fell.
Daddy Bigger picked up Angie and carried her away from the screeching energies and the sparks and the lightning power. He placed her in the front seat of Edmund’s car with George and EJ and left her there. George licked her face. She had been crying and smelled of grief and fear.
Screaming a war cry, KitKit leaped on the Mama and clawed her leg. Clawed through the death energies. Disrupting them. She yowled with victory.
Mama Bigger shrieked with pain. Swatted her familiar. But KitKit was already on the other side of the room.
The cloud of death magics faded back into the Mama’s bloody wound.
KitKit sent a report to the council of familiars. She had done her job. Satisfied, KitKit walked to George’s bowl and ate his food.
Edmund was back, bloody and fanged, inside the car with them, raising the convertible roof. His fangs clicked closed and he turned on the engine and the heat.
Softly, he said, “You did it, Angelina. I’m proud.”
Angie began to shiver. A moment later, Angie threw up. All over Edmund’s expensive leather upholstery. And Edmund.
George chuffed and tried to clean up the vomit. It smelled of pizza and tea and lollipop.
Edmund shoved him away.
George growled at Edmund, but the vampire ignored him as he hadn’t shown his teeth.
The morning came fast. At dawn the vampire was gone. The witches were gone, including the witch, Melodie. The day was quiet. Mama Bigger was quiet. Everyone was quiet, including KitKit who sat on the shelf above the fireplace watching everyone, her tail twitching. George hunkered under Angie’s bed, hiding.
At dusk, Evan Bigger left the witch house and the wards went up stronger than before. When he came back, the pack leader smelled of Lincoln Shaddock’s barbeque restaurant and the Bigger was more quiet than usual. Outside, snow was a steady fall.