Page 84 of Heart of Mischief

She felt nervous as hell.

She didn’t know why. Technically, she should feel relieved; they’d made it to OET weekend without another attack by Rattatosk. The kids were leaving Silver Shores, which also meant leaving the murder danger zone.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Rattatosk knew exactly what they were doing and that he was somehow going to hitch a ride.

With a sigh, Charlie shifted the car into park and opened the driver’s side door. Henry scampered down her leg and leapt to the ground, landing deftly on the pavement. Charlie slid out after him. Lou and Abigail slammed the passenger doors and headed around to the back of the car, where Mason had already popped the trunk that held their overnight bags.

Of course, there was oneotherreason that could explain the butterflies in her stomach. A reason that had nothing to do with the bloodthirsty squirrel beast lurking around town.

She’d spent far too long getting ready that morning. Normally, she grabbed jeans and whatever clean shirt sat on the top of thepile, but today, she’d struggled to choose an outfit. As her hand hovered over a loose black blouse, a statement Abigail once made had popped into her head:

“Heather gray,” Abigail had said firmly during their first trip shopping together. “Heather gray is your color. There are swirls of it in your eyes. Wearing it will only enhance them. Trust me.”

Back then, Charlie had only laughed and kept pawing through the rack of sweaters before her. She’d never particularly cared about her wardrobe. She liked to keep things simple: dark jeans or black leggings, a top of any color that wasn’t too bright. Easy. No way to go wrong. She already owned gray clothing; why did the specific shade matter?

But that morning, as she stood above her T-shirt drawer, fingering the steel necklace at her collarbone and staring down into the sea of blacks and blues and neutrals, she’d felt a flash of disappointment that she hadn’t taken Abigail’s advice.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she’d said out loud. “Who could you possibly be trying to impress?”

Henry, who had been running his usual circles on the bedroom floor, sent an answer into her mind right away:

ELIAS

Charlie had glared down at him. “That isnottrue,” she’d said. “Say it again and I’ll step on you.”

He’d only stuck out his tongue.

But now, when she heard the telltale roar of Elias’s convertible engine and glanced over her shoulder to find him turning into the parking lot—sunglasses on, hair tousled—her earlier certainty wavered disturbingly.

Gods he looked good.

He pulled into the spot beside the Bronco. “Morning.” He grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat and leapt gracefully over the convertible door, before pressing a button to close the top.“Everyone ready for a thrilling weekend of identifying western Michigan’s various flora and fauna?”

“I know I am,” said Lou, appearing at Charlie’s side and throwing an arm over her shoulder. “But it has less to do with education and more to do with Mason and his buddies driving up to the Gut Tuesday night and burying enough beer in the sand to drown an entire cavalry of horses.”

“That sounds a bit excessive,” Abigail said, coming to stand beside Elias with her overnight bag over one shoulder and frowning. “We’re going to be a long way from any hospital. If anyone gets too drunk—”

“—then Charlie will save them with her new god powers,” Lou finished. “Easy peasy.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her best friend. “That’s not really how it works.”

“It is in my mind. Now.” Lou pulled her arm from Charlie’s shoulder and clapped her hands together. “Let’s review. What’s the plan for tonight?”

“First, we build an enormous raft stocked with black coffee and college applications,” said Mason, popping up next to Lou with his duffel bag over one shoulder and hers over the other. “That should be enough to lure Abigail aboard. Then, when she’s deep in one of the essays, we untie the ropes attaching it to the dock and—”

“Lights out is at ten p.m.,” Abigail interrupted, shooting Mason a stern look as she recited the schedule that she had group texted to the entire junior and senior class the night before. “The chaperones aren’t supposed to drink, but because they’re suburban moms, they usually end up splitting three bottles of wine around the campfire and passing out by midnight. At twelve thirty, if the coast is clear, we sneak out of the tents and head over to the Gut.”

“Excellent.” Lou beamed at them. “Thanks to Elias and Mason, us juniors should have no trouble getting spots on the senior dock.”

“Safety is key,” Charlie said. “I know we’re headingawayfrom the area Rattatosk has been targeting, but who’s to say he won’t decide to follow our buses north? In squirrel form, he’ll blend right into the forest.”

“Don’t trust any adorable fluffy things that offer me candy if I get into their white van,” Lou said. “Check.”

“I’m serious, Lou,” said Charlie. “Rattatosk wants Loki’s children dead. He doesn’t seem to knowwhoLoki’s children are, exactly, but what’s to stop him from murdering every teenager he finds until he gets it right? And what better opportunity to do so than when we’re all tipsy in the middle of nowhere?”

“Charlie,” said Mason. “Relax. We have a cute gnome with a Tasmanian Devil alter ego, a shadow demon, and a human who can blow shit up with her mind. We’ll be fine.”

“That’s not really what I—” she started.