One thing I couldn’t ignore: the rune on my arm had never faded. Perhaps my manic anxiety was messing with the reading, but that aching suspicion that something was wrong wouldn’t leave. A low hum buzzed over the air, and I spun around, seeing the front of Adam’s jacket vibrating on the floor. I reached inside the exterior pockets to find nothing, but as the buzzing continued, I realized there was a secret compartment built inside. It was…Adam’s cell. The screen was cracked, but I could still read the number dancing across it.
“Hello?”
A brief pause. “Kat? Is that you?”
“Reese?” I lowered my voice, shutting the bedroom door as quietly as I could. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I was released from custody,” he sighed. “I’ve been trying to call you forever, but you weren’t answering. I saw Adam carrying you out of the school, so I thought I’d try my luck and see if I could get through to him instead. What happened to you? I overheard a couple of Reynolds’s guys mention something about Blaine. Is he really still alive?”
“What?” The phone nearly slipped through my fingers.
“Blaine,” he annunciated. “Was he really the one who attacked you?”
I felt dizzy for a whole new reason. “Did you just say you were released from custody?”
“Yeeeeah,” Reese laughed awkwardly, clearly baffled. “The police questioned me when I was forced to go to the E.R. My wrist hadn’t quite healed yet by the time they ran an x-ray, so I’m stuck having to wear this stupid cast for show. But anyway, I told the officers of my whereabouts and they found the surveillance footage of me and you at the restaurant during the time of Casey’s murder. That’s hardly the highlight of this conversation, Kat.”
I bolted out the door, practically falling down the stairs to the foyer. Everyone looked up at me as I stopped short of the landing.
“Oh my God!” my mom gasped, her attention centered on my left arm. I looked down, realizing all too late that my fever must have sweated off the makeup I had covering up my runes. They were on full display.
But that was the least of my problems.
“Kat?” shouted Reese on the other end of the phone. “You still there?”
The room had fallen pin-drop quiet that not a word went unheard by anyone. A leering smile pulled at Officer Blake’s mouth as I focused my vision on him.
“Shit.” The word came out breathless, seeing his eyes flash black.
Chapter 37
Made Of Stone
Stevens rolled his own eyes at his partner and sighed. “Seriously? You couldn’t even keep the veil up till we got her in the squad car?”
Both my folks looked at me, their faces paralyzed in confusion and an unrealized fear.
“What are you waiting for? Go get her,” huffed Stevens, shoving Blake forward.
“With pleasure.” He charged through the foyer, and I spun on my heels, unable to gain enough momentum to outrun him. Halfway up the stairs, he grabbed hold of my ankle, sending me face first into the carpeted steps.
Dad barked something, but the room fell silent once more at the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. “Best stay where we all are,” said Stevens, his friend yanking me down the flight.
“Reese!” I screamed, the phone sliding from my hand as I tried grappling at the railings.
Before I could get a steady grip, Blake flung me upright and grabbed me by the waist to haul me the rest of the way down. I kicked and pushed, managing to jab my elbow into his windpipe. He croaked, trying to drag in a breath that wouldn’t come. In an instant of blind panic, he suddenly flung me backward. My body plummeted down the stairs, my hands frantically flailing to grab onto something. No such luck. My ribs took a whole new beating, this time from my back as I crashed onto the hardwood floor of the landing. With the wind knocked clean out of me, both Blake and I were now gasping to catch our breaths.
“Well, if this isn’t embarrassing…” Officer Stevens shook his head, half frustrated-half amused. Sure enough, he had his service pistol aimed at my parents, their trembling hands raised over their heads. “Come on, man. What does she weigh? A buck-ten at most? Just grab her, and go.”
Blake dazedly made his way down the stairs, trying to inhale through his nose. His breathing rattled with a strangled cough. Despite the spasm in my diaphragm still robbing me of air, I staggered back up to my feet, clutching the entranceway table for support. I grabbed the Italian lead crystal vase off the countertop and chucked it at him. A rune on my arm ignited just before the vase left my hands, and I watched as it rocketed with unnatural momentum from my fingers. It flew right at Blake’s head, the glass shattering into oblivion upon impact. He fell like a sack of potatoes, his unconscious frame tumbling down the last few steps before crashing onto the landing.