“Tried,” I said, “but didn’t get much. He denied knowing about Lauren and—what’s the other girl’s name?”
“The French hornist?”
I nodded.
She tilted her head up, eyes squeezed closed. “Joanne or Joley or something? Let’s just say French hornist.”
“Anyway, I asked him about them. He confirmed our Grimoire theory.”
Scout paled a little. “They’re looking for me?”
“They are. Or at least your spell book. But I think I put the fear into him.”
There was some pretty insulting doubt in her expression. I batted her with a pillow. “I can be fierce when necessary.”
“Only because you have a wolf at your beck and call.”
“He’s not at my beck and call. And we’re getting off track. Sebastian denied knowing anything about the monsters, but here’s the really weird thing—he told me to go see the vampires. He said something about the ‘missing,’ and said we needed to talk to Nicu to figure out what’s going on.”
“A Reaper sending us into the arms of warring vampires. Yeah, that rings a little more true.”
“What about the missing thing?”
“What about it?”
I rearranged my knees so that I was sitting cross-legged. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Not really. I mean, other than me being kidnapped and all.” Her voice was dry as toast.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. He did say Jeremiah was interested in you.”
Scout went a little pale. “I gotta tell you, that does not thrill me.”
“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? They’re after you ’cause you’re some kind of wonder sorceress, and I’m some kind of crazy, firespell-wielding Adept.”
“You know, we could totally turn that into a comic book.”
“Who’d want to read about pimply teenagers with boy issues and magic problems?” We looked at each other before bursting into laughter.
A knock sounded at the door. “It’s open,” Scout said.
The knob turned, and Lesley stood in the doorway, blinking wide eyes at us. “I need to show you something,” she said.
“What?” Scout asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think it falls into your jurisdiction.”
Without so much as a word, apparently trusting that Lesley had seen something important, Scout gathered up her messenger bag.
“Let’s go.”
15
“Let’s go,” of course, was easier said than done when we were being stalked by the brat pack. The three of us emerged into the suite to find Veronica walking into Amie’s room, stack of magazines in hand. She wore the kind of grubby clothes that beautiful girls could get away with—flip-flops, blond hair in a messy knot, rolled-up sweatpants, and a tank top.
Veronica stopped, free hand on the doorknob, and looked us over. “What are you doing?”
We bobbled forward as Scout pulled the door shut behind us and hitched up her messenger bag. “We’re going to find a quiet place to study. What are you doing?”
Veronica held up the magazines. “Self-explanatory?”
“Excellent,” Scout said. “Good luck with that.”
“I know something’s up,” she said. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.”
“Something like how M.K. sneaks out at night to meet her boyfriend, you mean?” I smiled innocently at Veronica.
She all but growled, but kept her eyes on me. “Are you going to meet Jason?” she asked.
“Of course not,” I said, but I could feel the blush heating my cheeks. I’d never been a very good liar, and while I’d been mostly honest—we weren’t planning to meet him—who knew what the night would hold?
“What about John Creed?”
There it was again. Veronica was clearly obsessed with Creed. Why not just call the boy and ask him out?
“We’ll be studying,” Scout repeated. She opened her messenger bag to show Veronica her art history book. “You want to join us?”
Veronica watched us for a minute. “No, thanks,” she said.
She didn’t say anything else as we headed out the door, but I could feel her eyes on us as we left.
Lesley led us through the Great Hall and then into the main building. When we got there, she led us down into the basement along the route we used to get to the vault door.
“It’s down there,” she said, pointing down the stairs.
“What is?” I asked, nervousness building in my chest.
“You’ll see.”
“Do me a favor?” Scout asked. “Could you stay up here?”
Lesley didn’t answer, but Scout apparently took her silence as agreement, as she pulled my elbow and tugged me down the stairs.
We found what Lesley had seen when we reached the corridor just ahead of the vault door—a trail of thick, ropey slime that led all the way back to the vault door, which stood wide open. There was no glow from the wards.
“Oh, crap,” Scout said.
“You think it’s from—”
“Where else would it come from?” She frowned and surveyed the goop. “It has to be the creatures. Maybe the wards didn’t hold.”
“Temperance faded after a while,” I pointed out. “Even with the power boost, the wards might not have held forever. Maybe those Reaper girls broke through them again, and the rat thingies followed them in.”
“And then the rats ate the girls?” she asked hopefully.
“Or they’re working together.”
Scout froze. “That would be very, very bad. Reapers are awful. Reapers with minions are far beyond awful.”
“What’s the other option?”
“Maybe they just skipped in after the girls.”
We both looked up. Lesley stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over her chest.
Scout gave her a look of disapproval. “We told you to wait upstairs.”
Lesley lifted her nose, and with a voice I’d never heard her use before, gave that attitude right back to Scout. “I am not a child, so don’t talk to me like that.”
It took Scout a moment, but she backed off. “You’re right,” Scout said. “I’m sorry—but that doesn’t mean—”
Lesley cut her off with a hand. “I told you I’d help you,” she said. “And I’m not going to leave just because things get slimy. Literally.”
It took Scout a moment to respond. I understood why—even after I’d taken firespell, she hesitated to bring me into the fold. She’d worried about my safety; after all, if a Reaper thought I had information about Adepts, they might use me to get to them. It was probably the same fear she had for Mrs. M and for her friend Derek, who worked at a bodega near the school.
“It’s dangerous,” Scout finally said, “to know too much.”
Lesley took a step forward. “I know what people think about me. That I’m weird. That I study or practice my cello, but can’t do anything else.” She shook her head. “Just because I’m not a social butterfly doesn’t mean I’m not smart or capable. I am,” she insisted. “And I’m loyal. I just want a chance to be something more than the weird girl, even if you two are the only ones who know it.”
We stood quietly for a minute. I’m not sure what Scout was thinking, but I was impressed. How many friends did you have who offered themselves up—to danger, to the unknown—because they wanted to help? Not because they wanted anything in return, or because they’d get credentials or fame out of it, but because it was the right thing to do?
“And the danger?” Scout asked.
Lesley rolled her eyes. “Take a step back.”
“What?”
“Take a step back.”
We did as she asked, and just in time. Without any more warning, Lesley twisted on one heel and kicked so high she would have knocked the ring out of Scout’s nose if she’d been standing any closer.
Scout’s jaw dropped; mine did, too.
“How—where?”
“I’m a black belt.”
Scout extended a hand. “You are so in. Welcome to the community.”
Lesley waved her off. “First things first. What do we do about this—stuff?”
“The trail ends at the corridor,” I pointed out, “so it looks like they didn’t get any farther than that. Maybe they peeked in, didn’t find what they wanted, and left again.”
“That’s something,” Scout said. “First of all, let’s get some help.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m going to tell Daniel what’s up. He’ll have to come through and reward the doors since they found a way to break through our spell. And we’re probably going to have to clean up the slime.”
Lesley raised her hand. “Could we lead the brat pack down here first?”
Scout gave her a pat on the back. “You’re good people, Barnaby.”
Things I didn’t sign up for when I hopped the plane to O’Hare to attend St. Sophia’s School for Girls: firespell; werewolves (but still lucked out there); brat packers; Reapers; snarky Varsity Adepts.
And slime. Lots of slime that had to be mopped up by Lesley, Scout, and me. ’Cause what else would a sixteen-year-old girl rather be doing than mopping goo off a basement floor?
But we had to erase the evidence. Someone else finding the trail would only lead to questions Scout didn’t want to answer. Besides—if we had to come back down to battle anyone, it was a safety hazard. The stuff was really slippery.
We’d found a rolling bucket and mop in a janitor’s closet a few corridors away and pushed it down to the slimy corridor. Scout and I swabbed down the slime, and Lesley used an old towel to dry down the floor.
It took twenty minutes to clean it all up, but when we were done you could hardly tell it had been the sight of paranormal activity.
Scout put her hands on her h*ps and surveyed our work. “Well, I think it looks pretty fabulous.”
“At least it doesn’t look like the room got slimed. What’s next?”
Scout looked at Lesley. “Can you head back upstairs?” Before Lesley could protest at the slight, Scout held up a hand. “I don’t mean back to the suite. I mean stand guard upstairs. It’s unlikely anyone would find their way down here, but stranger things have happened.” When she gave me a pointed look, I stuck my tongue out at her. Not that she was wrong.
“Can you keep an eye on the basement door and make sure we have time to get it closed down again?”
With a salute, but without a word, Lesley headed down the corridor.
Scout watched her walk away. “Okay, is it wrong that I really like the fact that she saluted me?”
“It probably means that you’re destined to be Varsity so you can have JV Adepts at your beck and call.”
“Do you really think I’d have them at my beck and call?”
Scout had once told me that she wanted to run for office one day. Given the sound of her voice, I had a sense she wanted to head up Enclave Three one day, as well.
“Well, as much as you’re at Katie’s and Smith’s beck and call.”
“I’m not at Katie’s and Smith’s anything. Wait—what is a beck and call exactly?”
“I think that’s when you do their bidding whenever they want.”
She grimaced. “I guess I am that, then. All for one and one for all, and all that.” Her phone beeped, and Scout pulled it out of her bag again.
“Daniel’s on his way. Should be here in fifteen.”
“So we’re camping out in the basement again?”
She blew out a breath, then crossed her legs and sat down on the stone floor. “I don’t suppose you brought any cards?”
Daniel’s estimate had been a little low. It actually took him twenty minutes to get to us. He came in through the vault door, huffing like he’d run all the way through the tunnels.
“Sorry. Got here as fast as I could.” He put his hands on his hips. He wore jeans and a smoky orange T-shirt beneath a thin jacket. He glanced through the corridor. “You got the mess cleaned up.”
“Indeedy-o.”
“How much? I mean, how far into the building did they go?”
Scout showed him where the trail had led. “They didn’t get far,” she concluded. “Although I’m not entirely sure why.”
Daniel frowned, then paced to the end of the corridor and back again. “First the girls, now the rats and maybe the girls,” he said. “They keep returning to St. Sophia’s. But why?”
“Same reason they pinched Scout?” I offered. “They want her Grimoire?”
He seemed to think about that for a minute, then nodded. “That’s the best theory we have right now. Let’s assume that’s true and build our defenses accordingly.” He walked back to the door, then began looking it over. “The wards didn’t hold, huh?”
Scout shook her head. “Not even. Can you work it so they’re permanent? Like, they’d let Lily and me get through, but not anyone or anything else?”
Daniel pressed a hand to the door and closed his eyes in concentration. “Yeah, I could probably work that.”
It looked like he was getting started, but I still had a question. “Aren’t we going to go after them, or at least see how far they got? I mean, we can’t just let the rats run loose in the tunnels.”