Culpepper stood there a moment, and I heard the sound of keys jangling. A second later, the door swung open, and he disappeared inside.

What the—?

I struggled to recall everything I knew about Metus demons and their power. Was it possible Culpepper was some kind of necromancer? Necromancy had been banned by the Black Magic Purge, but given what I knew about Keeper spells, I didn’t think that meant a whole lot. Only, I was sure Metus fed off the fears of living victims, not dead ones. So what business did he have inside a crypt?

I had no way to tell from outside, so I sat down to wait for him to emerge. The minutes turned into an hour, then two. Eventually, I got bored enough to risk coming out of hiding. I spent some time practicing the snatch-and-smack on a nearby statue using twigs and branches of various sizes. By the time the sun hung low on the horizon, filling the cemetery with shadows, I was getting pretty good at it.

I was also getting tired. Not to mention hungry and cold. Culpepper had to come out soon. He had to. The mausoleum couldn’t have been more than ten feet long and five feet wide. There was only so much a person could do in an area so small.

When my teeth started chattering, I gave up. Either Culpepper wasn’t going to come out again this evening or he couldn’t. Regardless, I knew for sure I didn’t want to be in this cemetery when night arrived. The twilight surrounding me now was disturbing enough. I started to go, but then on a reckless impulse turned and approached the mausoleum.

I stared at the door, debating whether or not to go inside. There wasn’t a handle to speak of, just a keyhole, so I put my hands flat against the stone and pushed. The door didn’t move. Culpepper must’ve locked himself in. I considered knocking, but had no idea what I would say if he answered. No, I had to be patient and smart about this. Something was definitely going on here. I couldn’t say for sure it was related to Rosemary’s death, but it might be. Either way, I was determined to find out.

But not tonight. Too cold, too dark, and too dangerous.

I turned around, hoping I could remember the way back on my own. A little panicked at the possibility of being lost, I hurried down the way I’d come in.

Someone grabbed me from behind.

10

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I shrieked and spun around, lashing out with the first spell that came to mind. “Hypno-soma.”

It was a stupid decision; the dazing curse was combative magic and restricted by The Will. Yet, purple sparks flew out from my fingers and struck the attacker square on the chest. He gasped then stumbled backward, landing hard against the ground.

It was Culpepper. I stared down at him, thunderstruck. My shock turned to panic—no time for questions. Culpepper was already stirring as the spell’s effects retreated. In a moment, he would be on his feet again. He didn’t look so big or scary lying on the ground, but standing up he would loom over me. His eyes flicked open. I started to turn but froze when I spotted the notebook lying beside him. On impulse, I willed it into my hands, then I bolted.

I stumbled along, unsure of the way, trampling flowers and bumping into headstones and statues. I soon heard the loud noise of Culpepper running after me, spurring me onward. It was like being chased by a semitruck.

“Stop! That’s mine!” he bellowed.

I made the mistake of looking over my shoulder and saw he was even closer than he’d sounded. My terror quadrupled at the sight of him. The physical aspects of his demon heritage, usually hidden behind a glamour, were fully visible now, making him look even scarier. His eyes glowed electric green, and his horns looked like two curved daggers growing out from his skull. Any doubts I’d had that Culpepper was capable of murder vanished in an instant.

I swallowed a scream and looked forward again, running faster than ever.

Think, Dusty, think! But it was so hard with fear clouding my brain. My breath came in short, painful gasps. I knew if I didn’t get a grip soon, he was going to catch up with me—and then what? I wanted to believe The Will would protect me, but I wasn’t about to test the theory. Besides, my dazing curse had worked even though it shouldn’t have. What if there was something wrong with The Will? Maybe Culpepper could attack me with magic.

The thought scared the fear right out of me. I ceased my pell-mell trek through the cemetery and started weaving in and around obstacles on purpose. I knew I needed to keep out of his direct line of sight if I had any hope of dodging an incoming spell. I flinched at every sound coming from behind me, the smallest twig snapping as loud as gunfire.

“Stop! Thief!”

At the sound of desperation in Culpepper’s voice, I clutched the notebook tighter, convinced it held the answers. I was getting tired, my breath coming in short, side-wrenching gasps and my strides faltering from legs that felt strained to the point of breaking. I needed to find help soon. But I was completely lost. No part of the cemetery looked familiar. I might even be running in circles.

Then at last, growing desperate myself, I turned and cast a befuddlement jinx over my shoulder. “Ceno-crani!”

The magic leaped out from my fingers in a streak of purple and struck Culpepper on the forehead. He blinked in surprise and stumbled sideways. He tried to right himself, but his legs weren’t working properly. He looked like a drunk person trying to walk the line for a sobriety test. I didn’t stick around to see how long it would last. I sped up again, already thinking of what spell to cast at him next. For the first time in my life, I was grateful gym was a required subject.

I pushed my way through a row of bushes, and my feet hit pavement. I looked up and spotted the familiar sloping spire of Monmouth Tower. I veered right down the sidewalk toward the Commons, hoping to find some police officers on patrol.




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