“I’m both a very strong witch who is a notable potion maker and a daughter of generational wealth with enough money to buy black-market magical poison.”
Rye wasn’t going to assuage her feelings—he nodded. Embry’s head immediately fell into her palms. Rye put a hand between her shoulder blades as she mumbled, “Was her magic stolen?”
Rye swiped and swiped and swiped. When he stopped, Embry forced herself to look at the words. Almost as if the type were in bold, Embry’s gaze snagged on the line readingMagical essence not present.
“Itwasstolen,” Embry said, her voice falling to a near-breathless state.
Rye nodded. “I did research on how it works after we talked about it the last time.” Embry was sort of jealous she hadn’t been in the right headspace to do this research herself. “Apparently, the only magical people capable of absorbing vampire magic are witches”—she nodded because this one she knew—“sorcerers, and the occasional Glitch—diviners in particular.”
“So you’re saying literally every person in our senior Witch crew could steal it?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Embry’s blood ran cold. “Let’s hope we find clues that don’t point to us in the autopsy pics.”
CHAPTER 29
MIRROR, MIRROR
“BEFOREIFIND THESE PHOTOS,” RYE SAID, PAGING BACKWARD ONhis phone, “I meant to tell you when we were eating dinner, but I have breaking news from Raven’s Head.”
A grateful shiver zinged up Embry’s spine. That’s right—they weren’t alone in this. Not even a little bit. “Ames left you a message.”
“It was actually probably Fairfax because the handwriting looks like a serial killer’s—”
“No, that’s Ames.”
Rye huffed out a laugh. “Okay, well, then, yes, Ames leftusa message on my mirror.”
After a tap or two, Rye’s phone screen contained a picture of the mirror in the en suite off his primary bedroom—the scrolled frame around it was a dead giveaway—and a message left in what looked like blood but was probably the Revlon lipstick (shade: Super Red) that Ames kept in her bag for makeup emergencies because it was cheap enough that if something happened to it she wouldn’t be out a Sephora order.
Balthazar isn’t on campus.
But he hasn’t officially dropped. His stuff is still here.
He’s just gone. Not in class. Not in his room.
This… this was unexpected. The sorcerer wasn’t just hiding out after Friday’s homecoming court roller coaster and the shocking events of the next morning. He’dvanished.
Embry gaped at Rye. “How on earth did you forget to share this until now?”
“I didn’t forget,” he told her softly. Rye’s gaze rose to hers. “I just wanted you to eat first because you needed to. I knew this would distract you.”
Her lips dropped open to argue that she wouldn’t have been distracted—this was her friend, her corsage-giving homecoming dance partner. And now, what, was he the one Martinelli was referencing as “missing” when laying into Inspector Brown? Not Alistair?
Snippets of the conversation they’d overheard played in her mind.Disappearance. Concurrent search. Missing person.
And now—wait. Balthazar hadn’t vanished or even ghosted her. Not like Alistair.
“But Balthazar texted me.”
Rye blinked. “When?”
Embry slipped out her phone. “Sunday, before the coven meeting.”
Looking away as the lock screen flashed to life, she pulled up the messages. As she did, a spike of something like embarrassment tore through her when the words appeared, but Embry tamped it down as far as she could. Ames had already given her hell about the tone of her response, and even if she hadn’t Rye would’ve done it anyway. Because he was Rye.
Thanks. Are you coming to the meeting tonight? Miss you.
