In an extra stroke of genius, the committee had decided to decorate the quad with homecoming decorations that had gone unused—a move that was both clever and on point because the dance’s official theme was to have been the Night of the Living Dead, and rare vampire Oakley had been recruited as a consultant. The committee hung streamers, propped up ornamental coffins and gravestones around the space, using the trinkets of the undead to both remember Oakley and recognize her hard work and that of the others.
Embry had to admit, the social committeewaspretty good at this whole party-planning thing. The effect was both spooky and delightful, especially once all the candles were lit. It was perfectly in line with exactly who Oakley had been that first day she stepped on campus.
Before Embry had even taken it all in, tears welled.
If there ever were a time to cry in public, this was it. Still, she tried to blink the tears away, rolling her eyes heavenward in hopes they wouldn’t fall and ruin her makeup.
“I’ve got you, Em.” Amethyst swept from her side to stand in front of her, gentle fingers drying the tears and adding an extra layer of protection to her makeup. She smoothed her hands down Embry’s hair to her upper arms and gave her BFF a reassuring smile. “There we go.”
“What girl needs to rely on setting spray when she’s got you?” Embry half croaked.
“You’re the one who taught me how to do that,” Ames pointed out. Oh, she had. Not for everyday wear—that was a little much—but for the stage? A spell to lock makeup in place under the lights was a must. How’d she forgotten that? Ames read her mind, adding with a soft smile, “You’ll remember all your tricks once things settle down.”
“If they ever do,” Embry muttered.
Ames was having none of it. She looped an arm around Embry’s shoulders. “Look, Martinelli canned your suspension because she knew it was a crock of bat dung to keep up the pretense with Balthazar in custody, you’ve already made up your missing work, including getting a ninety-nine percent on the calc test, and Jonesy is on board with using the understudies forInto the Woods. The show is literally going on, my friend—two weeks late, but it is.”
Embry nodded as Ames squeezed her shoulders so tight they climbed to her ears.
Ames was right. Of course she was. Things were moving forward, even though it was definitely taking longer than Embry would’ve preferred to sort everything out.
Due process, yada, yada.
Yet the picture was clear now: It was Balthazar, with the poison corsage, somewhere on campus, as directed by his father and leader of the Hale clan, Thelonious.
From the moment she’d come out of hiding to enroll at Raven’s Head School for the Magically Gifted, Oakley Riddle was a target. Her decision to attend the school put a well-worn plan into motion, with Balthazar tasked with immediate enrollment with the singular goal of getting close to the vampire so he could murder her.
Under Thelonious’s direction, the Hale family had been consistently killing one vampire; draining them of magic for their magical well; baiting the rest of the family to come out of hiding, hunting them down, draining them, etc.; and then blaming and framing the nearest group of witches.
It was both methodical and messy, while the end goal was something only a deranged group of insular ninnies with a chip on their collective shoulder could understand.
Basically, as Balthazar had said, the sorcerers were powerful but notin power.
For every vampire they killed, the well of dark magic the sorcerersdefinitely usedfilled right up to the brim with stolen power. The well was fed year in and year out by pockets of vampire murders worldwide—Romania was a hotbed.
Their plan effectively was designed to kill two birds with one stone. Witches were the most influential collective group in the magical world with their abilities and larger relative numbers, while vampires lived long enough to be dangerous to literally any ambition, especially considering their protected status. So, thesorcerers concocted a plan to cancel them out, which would allow them to slip into roles of power on the Table and elsewhere until the entire magical world was theirs to control.
Ridiculous. Convoluted. And time-consuming to prove, even with Balthazar all but bragging the quiet part out loud as he fed his need for both drama and the spotlight by treating fifty witches to his villain’s soliloquy. Before, you know, his dad ruined it.
The path to justice was ongoing. But, at the very least, in the short-term, Embry was able to petition for her return to Raven’s Head School for the Magically Gifted.
And she wasn’t going to miss her chance to remember Oakley with the rest of the student body. Even if Embry felt every eye on her as she and Ames waded through the crowd.
This time, no one parted for them. The stares and whispers were tangible, as if Embry had dragged Ames down a path crisscrossed with spiderwebs, catching every single one in the face as they made their way through. Even as they moved out of range, the interest in them clung stubbornly, a stringy whisper.
Let them look.
Embry deserved to be at this vigil. Not because it was her idea but because Oakley was her friend. She was gone and it was terrible, and Embry would do everything in her power to make sure Balthazar, Thelonious, and the rest went away for a very long time.
Throwing back her shoulders and lifting her chin into the air, Embry snatched Amethyst’s hand, planted her high-heeled boots firmly onto the brick pavers of the walkway, and made sure her head prefect pin was square on her Raven’s Head vest.
Embry and Ames wound their way to a dais—very likely the same one used during the homecoming court ceremony—and confidently strode across it. Fairfax was already there, helping Skye with a microphone donated from the theater department.Upon their arrival, he stepped in to greet them—Embry with a tight embrace, and Ames with a kiss.
“Thank you for pulling this together,” Embry told him as they parted. “It’s incredible.”
“Truly, Mirza,” Ames agreed, patting his cheek. “I’d kiss you right now out of sheer astonishment at what you’ve achieved in basically forty-eight hours, but honestly it makes me so weepy, I’d probably just snot all over you.”
Fairfax grinned brilliantly. “Split the difference and hold my hand during the vigil?”
