“HELP!”
Her tiny frame dropped out of sight as Will caught up to her, tackling her into the ground. The blonde rasped, trying to refill her lungs with air that refused to come. He’d clearly knocked the wind out of her. Will tossed her wilted body over his shoulder and hauled her back inside the circle. She convulsed, still struggling for air as she kicked and thrashed in his arms. I was right in his line of sight, but Will didn’t pay any mind to me, dropping the girl on the ground before patting down the flames riding up his pant legs.
“Per sanguine nos offer tibi et sacrificium quod Magister. Per sanguine nos offer tibi et sacrificium quod Magister.” Will plucked out a pocketknife, pressing the blade against the blonde’s throat.
“Please…don’t-”
The boy blinked, his eyes flashing gold. “Per sanguine nos offer tibi et sacrificium quod Magister.”
One swift slash, and red filled my vision.
A hand gripped my shoulder and I flung upright, knocking my desk over in the process. Mr. Salzmann raised both his hands and stepped back, clearly startled.
What the hell was that?
“Are you okay?” asked the substitute. Every eye in the room was focused on me, making me all the more aware of my current state. My heart threatened to explode right inside my chest, a surge of adrenaline racked my body, making my entire frame quiver in its wake, and bile rose in my throat. I was going to be sick.
Chapter 12
Rolling in the Deep
I spent the whole next period in the nurse’s office with a small flashlight burning purple spots into my eyes. Based on my physical symptoms, Nurse Delgado determined that I had experienced a panic attack. Obviously, I left out the part about the murder in the woods. As soon as the manic anxiety began subsiding, I was sent back to class. I needed to bide my time until I could talk to Reese. It wasn’t like I could just saunter into the middle of his class and start an open discussion about demons and magic and homicide.
“You forgot again?” Carly laughed, hauling me toward my car the moment school let out.
“What’re you talking about?”
“The country club. Your meeting with Mrs. Marin. It’s in twenty five minutes.” She opened the driver’s door, gesturing me inside. “Your mom will kill you if you blow this off again.”
Crap.
That was the last thing on my mind. I needed to get help. But after what Reese had said, I knew he was right. I couldn’t go to Adam or Mr. Reynolds, and I certainly couldn’t go to the cops. Mystic Harbor was surrounded by forestlands on all sides, save for the coast, and I hadn’t the slightest idea where this had happened, or who was involved, or how I had gotten there.
“Hey, space cadet.” Carly waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me once again out of my trance. “Woodstone, twenty-four minutes and counting. Get a move on.”
I regrettably headed to the back and checked my trunk. Thank God. The dress Mom had picked out for me to wear was still wrapped in the garment bag. Seemed Reese would have to wait.
I pulled up in front of the Woodstone Country Club, and a valet greeted me as I stepped out of the Camry. He handed me a ticket and drove off into the parking lot, leaving only me and my nerves at the entrance. I immediately ducked into the bathroom to change, gaping at my reflection in horror. Donned in a pencil skirted, high-necked detailed black dress and matching ankle booted heels, I looked every bit of the sophisticated, Barbie-esque young lady that my mother always hoped I would be…except for the fact that the dress was sleeveless. When Mom had chosen it, I didn’t give it a second thought. Now…I was in serious trouble. Metallic tattoos were sprawled all down my left forearm. In plain sight.
And the only thing I had to cover up the designs was the red leather racing jacket that Reese had returned to me, which was considered “street apparel” by country club decree. They’d force me to take it off the moment I went into the club’s restaurant, and it would take too long to drive home to get something more suitable.
I was screwed.
My phone rang, and I tore it out of my purse. It was probably Carly. Maybe she was close. Maybe she had a jacket or a pullover I could borrow.
“Where’s the fire?” It was…Reese.
“What?”
“You texted me ‘911’. What’s up?”
Of course, now he got my message.
“A lot of things are ‘up,’” I groaned, scouring the bathroom as if a miracle was somehow resting inside the nearby stall.
“Where are you?”
***
Reese had been just down the street, so it took him no time at all to pull into the parking lot of the country club. The pair of valets approached the old beater truck with a snicker, until it dawned on them that one of the two had to park it.