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“And you’re panicking,” Tannie said, not entirely a question. “You know Virgil, he’s a swot. He’ll be doing all that boring stuff you just told me to do. Last I heard, he had a practical coming up.”
I chewed my bottom lip. Tannie was probably right. Virgil was a perfectionist when it came to work and grades. He considered it a disaster if he got a ninety nine score when a hundred was available.
“Don’t panic,” Tannie said, his voice softening. “He’ll be fine, Cat. He’s in Australia, not an active warzone.”
“I know,” I mumbled. But with everything going on here, it had me paranoid. “You’re right.”
He gasped. Obnoxiously. “Wait, wait, let me open my recording app and say that again.”
I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my cheeks. “I want you to know, I’m giving you my middle finger right now.”
“I’d expect nothing less from my grumpy baby sister. How’s things on the creepy gothic island anyway?”
“Creepy and gothic,” I muttered. “It’s fine. The professors are okay, classes are good so far, and we’ve even made a friend or two.”
“Wonders will never cease,” he drawled. “Even Byron?”
“Even Byron,” I confirmed.
“Fuck me.”
“You’ve got to stop saying that, Tannie. Someone will take you up on it.”
“Chance would be a fine thing,” he huffed. “Everyone’s straight or closeted here. Hence, I am bored.”
“You’ll live.” The smile was still on my face. I pointedly did not mention my three husbands. I could have told my brother I’d hooked up with three men and he’d praise my sexual liberation and encourage me to shake off the trappings of an outdated society’s beliefs about sex and bodies, but explaining husbands? And gods? And a curse? I kept my mouth shut.
“Oh, this looks promising,” Tannie said before he could tease me. “Yep, I’m being given my placement. Gotta go, darling sister. Take care, and don’t wait ten days to call me, or I’ll share that video of you walking the runway as Kitty Corner in our hallway.”
I gasped, clearly able to see the footage of me in drag, massive wig and sequins and all. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Totally would, love you, bye.”
I scowled when he ended the call, and stuffed my phone back under my pillowcase, staring at the ceiling. For a few minutes, I felt normal again. I felt myself again. I spun my crown ring around and around my finger and drank the rest of my coffee.1
“What am I gonna do?” I asked the duck plushie, hugging her to my chest. I decided to name her Yena, and I loved her at first sight. “Clearly I don’t have the nerve to tell my family what’s happening here.”
But Honey knew, and now Byron did. He hadn’t taken the news calmly—he’d paced from one end of his room to the other, fingers tugging at his hair, and when we finished catching him up, he just murmured, “Fuck. She’s gonna kill us all. Fuck.”
I hated it but Byron was right. And maybe that was why I didn’t have the guts to tell Tannie what was happening. He’d steal a helicopter and fly his way here, and then he’d be right in the middle of it. And I didn’t want him to be doomed, too.
Panic settled like an anvil on my chest, but I ripped the covers off myself and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
“Get up, come on, get up,” I breathed, and tensed all my muscles, physically propelling myself out of bed.
I dressed robotically, chanting at myself to keep going, keep moving. If I stopped, Nightmare won. She wanted me broken, wanted me completely paralysed by fear and guilt and the memories of what I’d done. Death had murmured as much to me every time we were together. So had Tor, and even Miz when he dropped by very briefly to check his shields were holding up, his stare lingering on me when I just sat in bed, my knees to my chest.
I wondered if any of them knew I hadn’t eaten, that throwing up multiple times a day made it difficult but I had no appetite to begin with. I didn’t even check what was in the white paper bag.
Dressed and shaking and crushed with anxiety, I grabbed my satchel and threw it over my shoulder, more as a talisman than anything else. This is normal, you are normal, everything is normal.
I squeezed Yena to my chest for a last boost of courage, settled her among the cushions on my new bed, and rushed to the door before I could talk myself out of it. It opened with a creak that drew the attention of my old neighbour—the studious black guy I’d seen once, when he got the party invitation. I didn’t know if he was cursed or if he escaped before that happened. He stood by the landing, speaking to one of Duncan Ford’s friends, the tall, blond guy looking like he’d walked out of a fashion magazine.
“Hey, you know Darya, right?” my once-neighbour asked, something drawn and disturbed about his expression.
“I…” I wasn’t expecting to hear her name. I couldn’t bear it. You are normal, everything is normal. “Yeah, we’ve spoken a few times. Why?”
“She’s gone missing,” Fashion Magazine jumped in, his eyes bright with either fear or excitement. “So have Professor Lancashire and Jillian Pendleton.”
