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He returns my nod, then looks at both our new friends, sighing. “That’s them, all right. Do you know where their house is?”
“Do we ever,” the first guy says. “Those mutha truckers moved into a house down the street from us and then stole our design. They steal half our crowds whenever we throw parties, and they’ve scared off a lot of people from wanting to join us.” His face turns grave, and he lowers his voice as he pins both Oliver and me with a sincere gaze. “Seriously, you guys should stay away from them. You seem like good people. I’m sure you can take care of yourselves, but those freaks are dangerous. Everybody hates them, but nobody messes with them for a reason.”
“We’rehaving a party this weekend, though,” the other guy says. “You should both come.” He hands us flyers advertising their frat house and the party hours. The house address is conveniently written along the bottom of the paper. “And hey, bro…” He holds his hand out to Oliver. “If you’re interested in pledging, let us know. We’ll introduce you to the other guys and let them know you’re cool.”
I can see the smile Oliver is trying to hide as he shakes the guy’s hand. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the info on those other guys. We’ll make sure to steer clear.”
“Steer yourselves to our place. Friday night. It’s gonna be awesome.”
“We will, man, thanks.”
With a casual nod, Oliver leads me away toward the next booth. “Huh,” he says once we’re out of earshot. “So this is what it feels like to be one of the cool kids.”
A laugh bursts from me that makes Oliver chuckle. I nudge his shoulder with mine as we walk. “Don’t let it go to your head, Ollie. I happen to like you just how you are.”
Oliver shrugs his shoulders and smiles at the ground as we walk. “Thanks,” he mutters, nudging me back the way I’d bumped him. Then he clears his throat and changes the subject. “So I take it we’re on our way to thepunk-ass poser bitches’house?”
I grin. “Oh, yeah. I’m gonna go all Nora Jacobs psycho psychic chick on thosemutha truckers.”
. . . . .
The GPS in Terrance’s fancy car takes us right to the frat house. From there, our guys aren’t hard to find. For one thing, a very familiar yellow hooptie of a car is parked on the street out front. And for another, the entire house has been painted a pale yellow exactly like the frat house. No wonder our new friends at the booth were so bitter. They say copycatting is a form of flattery, but it’s still annoying. “Bingo. That’s our car.”
Oliver follows my gaze and snorts. “Nice ride.”
“You should see the tool who drives it. Come on. Be my lookout while I do my thing. When I get sucked into visions, I can’t pull myself out.”
Oliver gets twitchy as we near the car. He’s looking at the large pale yellow house. “Are you sure we should—”
“It’s the only way to find Shandra.” I glance at the house. “Look at the place. All’s quiet. Either the majority of them are in class, or sleeping, or out kidnapping more underworlders. I doubt we’ll have a better opportunity. Just keep an eye out, and if someone comes…drag me away. If I let go, it will break the vision. Then we can run.”
Oliver doesn’t reply to this other than to take a deep breath and stare at the house again. When we reach the car, and the edge of the property, my skin prickles and all the hair on my arms stands up. Oliver gasps, and I let out a long, low whistle. “That’s a lot of magic,” I say. The tingling sensation is stronger than I felt at Terrance’s house. “It feels different, though. It’s not normal, is it?”
When I get no reply, I glance at Oliver. He’s white as a ghost, and his eyes look like softballs. His jaw is hanging open.
“What is it?”
Oliver snaps out of his shock with a shiver and swallows hard. “It’s dark magic,” he whispers. “It’s banned in the underworld because it’s gained through sacrifice and it’s really dangerous. It doesn’t always do what you want it to. It sort of has a will of its own and will twist the mind of the person using it.”
“Let me guess. It turns people evil?”
Oliver frowns at my sarcasm. “Yes, it does.” He tugs on my arm. “We need to get out of here.”
“What?” I pull away from Oliver’s grip. “We can’t leave yet.”
I reach out for the handle on the driver’s side door of the car, but I get nothing. There is no imprint on the handle. Lucky for me, the old, obnoxious car is unlocked. Guess the owner thinks his reputation will keep people from breaking in. Or maybe he just forgot to lock it. I mean, why would he need to? This is only Detroit. It’s only one of the top ten crime capitals of the country. Mr. Muscles did seem rather stupid, though.
I hold my breath as I open the car door. I’mprettysure all the magic I feel is coming from the house, but there’s a slight possibility the car is warded, too, and I just can’t tell. When I pull the door open and nothing happens, I let all the air out of my lungs. So Muscle Guy is just stupid after all. Awesome for me.
As I slide in behind the wheel, I glance over my shoulder at my lookout. Oliver has called someone and is murmuring anxiously into the phone, glancing at the house over and over. Whatever. He can have his freak-out. I need to scope out this car.
As soon as I place my hands on the wheel, I’m pulled into an intense vision. It’s night, and the guy from the bar is gone, but the driver of the car who picked him up sits gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. I’m sitting in the backseat of the car—Shandra is gone. It’s nighttime, and the house in front of us is hosting a raging kegger.
Muscle Head sees a guy in the crowd and nods for him to come get in the car. The new guy is a redhead. He’s tall and lean, but his shoulders bulge under his T-shirt and his arms show definition. Unlike Muscle Head, the new guy looks intelligent. He slips into the passenger seat with an irritated look on his face. “You were supposed to check in an hour ago. Why didn’t you call?”
Muscle Head twists his hands over the steering wheel again, shooting his companion a dark look. “I didn’t think we should have this conversation over the phone. You’re not going to believe what went down tonight.”
Red only cocks an eyebrow and waits for an explanation. Muscle Head sighs. “We have to take Noah.”
