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“It’s only a pageant,” I assure them. “How bad can it be?”
“Willow?”
The familiar voice tugs at my heart—the hairs on the back of my neck prickle—and the floor shifts. For a moment, I thought I heard a ghost call my name. I shake my head to clear the cobwebs and turn, ready to head toward the pageant with my rucksack, dirty clothes, and ugly face.
But I smack headfirst into a man. Two strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying my balance. I lift my gaze to the freckled face of an extremely handsome green-eyed ghost.
“Alfie?” I whisper.
Chapter
Nine
WILLOW
The last time I saw Alfie, the undead were dragging him away. But here he stands, styled to perfection. His ginger hair is trimmed and combed with a side part. His gray uniform is more tailored than Geraldine’s or Max’s, and a string of charms dangle on a fine silver chain across the breadth of his chest.
He’s a Chaser.
Breathless, I step back to get a better look and ensure I’m not dreaming again. He’s bulked up with hard slabs of muscle. The past five years have sharpened all the soft lines of youth. I don’t remember him being this good-looking and... virile.
Alfie inspects my face with abject horror. I recoil at his reaction and try to pull away, but his grip tightens on my shoulders. Green eyes flash with emotion, then promptly harden. He doesn’t ask me for an explanation, and I’m not in the mood to offer one.
“We’ll make you beautiful again,” he promises.
I try not to show his words affected me, but my fingers are on my face before I can stop them. Clenching them, I drop my arms to my sides.
“I’m surprised you recognize me.”
“I didn’t at first. You’re the last person I expected to see here, but it’s you. It’s really you.” His gaze darts over my face, winces, and drops. “Your golden eyes and silver hair are unmistakable beneath all that...”
He glances at a group of Chasers talking at another table, then at my table. A muscle in his jaw feathers, and he hurries me toward the dorm exit with brisk, rough strides. I try to stop, ask him questions, or hug him, but a stone statue would have more reactions than him.
Outside, he pushes us into a jog down a long hallway. Seconds later, we’re in a dormitory room with six single bunks. He crosses to a wooden chest against a wall, lifts the heavy lid like a feather, then rifles through it to find a clean uniform shirt.
“Put that on.”
I catch it when he throws it to me. “Can we take a moment and?—”
“No,” he clips and faces windows overlooking more woods. “Be quick.”
“Alfie, I’m still trying to process that you’realive.”
“Process later,” he grumbles. “It’s clear you know nothing about the Old Code, so you’ll have to take my lead. Your name has been called. You need to hurry.”
The authority in his tone is so foreign that it spurs me into action. But I trust him with my life. He already gave it once to protect me. I undress, shove on the uniform shirt and trousers, then drop onto the bunk to slide on the boots. He must hear the bed creak and glances at me. With a disapproving click of his tongue, he leaves the room.
I’m almost done tying my boots when he returns with a washcloth, drops to his knees, and wipes my face like I do for my twin sisters. His motions are abrupt and irritated until he reaches my acid wounds. The pity in his eyes withers my soul.
“What have they done to you?” he murmurs. His thumb grazes my right cheek. I know it’s the unscarred, unwounded side, but it feels bulky and wrong beneath his touch. It takes all my willpower to avoid crumbling into an emotional heap. He gives me a hard look. “We’ll find a way to fix it, I promise.”
I flinch away and feel myself detach. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He stands, fixes his shirt, and clenches his jaw. “You will be, though. First, we get you to the pageant, away from the Nothings and at least grouped with the Nevers. For now. I already have half a plan forming to hook you up with some charms.”
I shake my head. “They were nice to me. I won’t ignore them.”
His expression shutters. “Nice? Christ, Willow. I always knew you were a bleeding heart, but surely you know that fraternizing with them will get you killed. It’s bad enough you were about to waltz over to the pageant looking like that. I’ve seen people get turned intotoadsfor nothing but bad manners. Comb your hair and make it look presentable while you walk. With any luck, they’re disorganized like last year.”
