Did Carly just stick up for me?
“What about Blue and Emory?” I ask, shifting gears before my brain explodes. “Have you been in touch with them tonight?”
“No,” Carly says. “I don’t think they’re in immediate danger. They weren’t really on Trello’s radar. None of us were—not since Phaines lost interest in our psychic abilities and pulled his disappearing act.”
“If that changes,” Doc says, “we’ll bring them here. But for now, I think it’s best we keep the group as small as possible. To borrow a phrase from ourformerheadmistress, we don’t want to cause mass panic. Right now, the fewer people who know about any of this—Phaines, Trello’s involvement, what happened with Casey and Janelle, the Dark Arcana, Ani’s situation—the better.”
All of us agree to that.
And, since no world-ending, crisis-management session is complete without a plethora of snacks, alcohol, caffeine, or some combination thereof, the whole group shuffles back into the kitchen like cattle.
We’ve just finished setting out bowls of tortilla chips, salsa, sour cream, and melted cheese when Doc clears his throat, his energy shifting back into dark mode.
“Carly, Stevie,” he says, and I brace myself for what I know is coming next. “Now that Ani’s stable, I was hoping you could tell us more about what you witnessed tonight in the library.”
Carly and I exchange a glance, my stomach bubbling as images from Phaines’s chamber of horrors flash through my mind.
I give her hand a quick squeeze, then let out a sigh. “Guess I’d better put the kettle back on.”
Six
STEVIE
It’s not every night we discover a secret lair and unmask an evil minion posing as headmistress, so to commemorate the occasion, I invent a new brew—Mocha Minty Mwah-Ha-Ha. It’s a rich, deceptively dark blend of spearmint and peppermint leaves, dark chocolate, melted butter, espresso beans, and a dash of amethyst elixir to boost our intuition, all topped with a dollop of whipped cream that’s perfect for frothing up your villain 'stache.
Isla’s my taste-tester, and her first sip unleashes a near-orgasmic moan. “Girl,what? If I could drink this every day, I’d never need to have sex again.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Nat teases, already reaching for a mug of her own.
I hand one over, trying not to get a big head about it, but my tea game is onfirelately. If I keep banging out custom blends of this caliber—during a rapidly-approaching apocalypse, no less—I’ll be famous in no time.
Assuming the world doesn’t implode first.
Satisfied with the new blend, I prepare a frothy, steaming mug for everyone while Doc shares the news about our disappearing APOA agent. We all agree that lying low in Red Sands is a good idea—at least until we’ve got a better handle on what Casey’s up to, where Trello might be hiding, and Ani’s prognosis.
Oh, Ani…Worry tightens my chest, but I breathe through it. With Professor Broome camped out at his bedside tonight, I know he’s in good hands. Tomorrow will be here soon enough; I’ll finally get to hold him in my arms, to run my fingers through his hair, to tell him how much he means to me.
Yes, tomorrow will definitely be better. And for now, that’s as far ahead as I’m willing to think.
“Do you think Casey knows about Phaines’s death?” Professor Maddox asks.
“It’s possible,” I say, gathering up the rest of the full mugs and distributing them around the table. “She would’ve felt it the moment his hold broke, so she might’ve drawn the conclusion about his death. It’s also possible she got in touch with her APOA team as soon as she came out of the binding, and they told her what was going on.”
“But she said we shouldn’t contact APOA,” Doc says. “Or anyone at the Academy, for that matter.”
“Yeah, I don’t get that part.” I take a seat between Isla and Carly, directly across from Doc. “She also said Agent Quintana was allowed in the house here, so obviously notallthe APOA guys are off-limits.”
“Eastman’s not on the guest list, though.” Carly picks up Casey’s note for another look. “And he’s their boss.”
“Actually, I wonder ifanyonefrom APOA knows about Phaines,” I say. “At this point, we have no idea if Trello went back for the body after we left, or if she reported it anonymously, or even at all. Maybe he’s still down there.”
A shiver rattles my bones as I picture him lying there, his body rigid, the whole place full of glowing, pulsating jars of stolen magick.
“Yes, on that note,” Doc says, and Carly and I let out a joint sigh, knowing we can’t put it off any longer.
Time to relive the glory days of witnessing a magickal murder in the library basement.
We take another steadying gulp of tea, then do our best to get the story out, one horrifying piece at a time: Carly’s premonition at the café, followed by Trello’s sudden appearance on the path outside. Following our disgraced headmistress to the library. The broken security cameras above the basement door.
