He could, at the very least, look concerned.
Instead, he flips me a sardonic salute, then steps inside the foyer and closes the doors in my face.
52
ONE LAST HURRAH
Frost crunches underfoot. Fog hovers between headstones. Dawn is slow to rise, the sky a muted bruise behind the trees. My fingers ache as I plant the camcorder behind a crooked headstone, angled toward the mausoleum. When I straighten from my crouched position, I’m overcome with a bout of dizziness. The curse is hungry this morning, closer to the surface.
I can feel it beneath my skin.
Feeding on my warmth.
Feeding on my strength, too.
It’s not an optimal way to go into battle. Nor is it a pleasant sensation. But I’m comforted nonetheless. So far, its appetite remains fixed on me.
“Most people spend Halloween morning worrying about costumes, not wiring up graveyards.”
Twig’s voice comes so unexpectedly, I nearlydrop the audio recorder. He emerges from behind the mausoleum, scanning my set up.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask.
He holds up his phone, showing me the tracking app on his screen. We synced up ages ago, mostly in the name of food—an easy way to score a biscuit any time one of us caught the other at Tudor’s.
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, sliding his phone into his back pocket. “So I figured I’d have to come to you.”
My guts squirm with guilt.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Helping you achieve your life’s ambition.” I wag the audio recorder. “If ever there was a time to unequivocally prove in some really weird stuff, tonight will be the night. It should make for some great podcast fodder, anyway.”
“You think I care about the podcast if I don’t have my cohost?”
My shoulders wilt. “You talked to Jude.”
“He’s not doing so great.”
I move to a stone angel and tuck our audio recorder behind its wing—out of sight from party-goers, but close enough to catch sound if any should slip through.
Twig sits on a headstone. “So … what’s your plan, Selah?”
With a resigned sigh, I tell him.
When the time comes, I will go with Rafe through the rift. Jude will follow. Rafe willthreaten. Jude will spill his blood to protect me. Seraphina will rise. I’ll open the locket, touch her essence, and she and the curse will be destroyed once and for all.
When I finish, he remains as silent as the stone he sits on.
My teeth start to chatter.
I shove my hands deep into my coat pockets. “Think you can keep people away from this part of the cemetery tonight?”
He scoffs. “You’re putting your life on the line, and you want me to babysit drunk teenagers?”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Just you, huh?”
