"Only now they have the darkest, most powerful magic in the world literal y flowing through their veins,"I added.
"Exactly."Dad smiled proudly, and I suddenly remembered Alice standing in the clearing, exclaiming, "You did it!"right before I cut off her head.
My throat was tight when I said, "So if Alice was stil Alice, why did she have claws and start drinking blood?"
Dad shrugged and held up his right hand. Long silver claws sprang up in place of his manicured fingernails, and then disappeared just as quickly.
"Any witch or warlock could do that if they wanted to. Try it yourself."
I looked down at my ragged nails, stil splotched with Iced Strawberry polish from the last time Jenna had tried to give me a manicure. "No thanks."
"As for the...other part, blood magic is a very strong, very ancient practice. Again, many witches and warlocks have used it in the past. Your friend Jenna certainly benefits from it. In fact, that's how vampires were created. Nearly a thousand years ago, a coven of witches were performing a very complicated blood ritual, and-"
"Alice kil ed people,"I said, my voice breaking on the last word.
"Yes, she did,"Dad said calmly. "That much dark magic can drive a person insane. That's what happened to Alice. It doesn't mean it wil happen to you."
He looked at me, his expression intense. "Sophie, I understand your hesitation to embrace your heritage, but it's vital that you stop thinking of demons as monsters."He reached out and covered my hand with his. "That you stop thinking of yourself as a monster."
Struggling to keep my voice level, I said, "Look, I get that you're big into this whole Up With Demons thing, but I watched one kil a friend. And Mrs.
Casnoff told me that your mom demoned out and kil ed your dad. So don't stand there and expect me to believe that being a demon is al sunshine and kittens."
"It's not,"Dad said. "But if you're wil ing to listen to me, and to learn more about what it means to be a demon, you'd understand that the Removal is not your only option. There are ways of...wel , fine-tuning your powers. Of lessening the chances of hurting someone."
"'Lessening'?"I repeated. "But not removing, right?"
Dad shook his head. "I'm going about this al the wrong way,"he said, sounding frustrated. "I just want you to understand that...Sophie, have you given any thought to what it wil be like once you've gone through the Removal? Provided you survive it, of course."
I had. It sounds dumb, but one of the first things I'd thought of was that I'd look like the Vandy: covered in swirling purple markings, even on my face.
It wouldn't be an easy thing to explain away in the human world, but I was hoping "crazy spring break"might work.
When I didn't answer Dad right away, he said, "I'm not sure you understand what real y happens in that ritual. It's not just that you won't be able to do magic anymore. You wil be destroying a vital part of yourself. The Removal gets into your blood. It rips out something that's as much a part of you as the color of your eyes. You were meant to be a demon, Sophie, and your body and soul wil fight to keep you that way. Possibly to the death."
There's nothing you can say to a speech like that. So I just stared at him until he final y sighed and said, "You're tired, and this was a great deal to tel you on your first night. I can understand if this is overwhelming."
"It's not that,"I said, but he just kept on talking, something I was beginning to learn was an annoying habit of his.
"Hopeful y, after a good night's sleep, you'l be more receptive to what I have to tel you."He glanced at his watch. "Now, if you'l excuse me, I was supposed to meet with Lara fifteen minutes ago. I trust you can find your way back to the house."
"It's right in front of me, so yeah,"I muttered, but Dad was already walking down the hil .
I sat in the gathering darkness for a long time, watching Thorne Abbey, trying to absorb everything Dad had just told me. I'd been sitting there for about ten minutes before it occurred to me that I hadn't asked him anything about the demon kids and what they were doing here. Or how they even existed. Final y, I got up, dusted off my jeans, and headed back toward the house.
As I walked, I thought about what Dad had said. I'd only had my powers for a few years, but they were a part of me. For the first time, I admitted to myself that the thought of slashing the magic right out of myself-and maybe dying in the process-scared the heck out of me.
But I couldn't go through life as a ticking time bomb either, and no matter what Dad said about "fine-tuning"my magic, as long as I had powers, exploding would always be a very real possibility. Somehow, my whole existence had become a real y complicated word problem.
I'd always sucked at those.
There was no sign of Dad when I got back to Thorne, and I trudged up to my room. Earlier, I'd been starving, but the conversation with Dad had kil ed my appetite. Despite my long nap, al I wanted to do was take a hot bath and crawl into bed.
But when I got to my room, I saw that my bed had already been made up. Had it been servants, or did they now have some sort of tidiness spel ?
Then I saw the photograph propped on the pil ow.
I wondered briefly if Dad had put the photo there himself as I reached down and picked it up. My hands trembled a little. It was a black-and-white shot of about fifty girls in the front garden of Thorne. Half of them were standing, while the other half sat on the ground, their skirts pul ed demurely around their legs. Alice was one of the seated girls.
I studied her face for a long time. Somehow, it had been easier to think of Alice as real y possessed, a soul ess creature using my great-grandmother's body as a tool.
It was harder to think of Alice's soul stil being in her body when I sliced through her neck with that shard of demonglass.
I traced her features. What had she been thinking the day this photograph was taken? Had she thought Thorne Abbey was overwhelming, too?
For al I knew, she'd stood in this very room more than sixty years ago. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to ask her if she'd had any sense of the horrible thing that was about to happen to her, if she had wandered the hal s of Thorne feeling the same sick feeling of dread that coiled inside me.
But Alice, frozen in 1939, smiling and human, didn't have any answers, and there was nothing in her face to suggest that she'd had any hint of what the future would hold for her.