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Against my better judgment, my mind was starting to figure out how I could pull this off. "I'd need a lot more information about operations," I murmured.
"I can get you that," said Wade promptly.
I didn't answer. This was crazy - a crazy idea from a crazy group. But I looked at Marcus's tattoo and the way the others followed him - the way even Sabrina followed him. There was a dedication, an ardent belief that had nothing to do with Marcus's silly flirting. They might really be on to something.
"Sydney," said Eddie again. And this time: "Please."
I could feel my resolve weakening. A missing girl, who could cause lots of trouble if found. If they were really talking about Jill, how could I risk anything happening to her?
But what if I was caught?
Don't get caught, an inner voice said.
With a sigh, I looked back up at Wade. "All right," I said. "Give me the scoop."
Chapter Thirteen
WADE TOLD ME EVERYTHING he knew. It was all useful, but I didn't know if it would be enough. First, I had to get to St. Louis . . . and that was going to be tricky. I braced myself for the phone calls I'd have to make, hoping I had enough Alchemist wiles to pull them off.
Before I took on that task, I just wanted the normality and comfort of my own room. Eddie and I drove back to Amberwood, analyzing every detail of our meeting. He was chomping at the bit to make progress, and I promised I'd keep him in the loop.
I had just reached my door when my phone rang. It was Ms. Terwilliger. I swear, sometimes I thought she had a sensor outside my room so that she'd know the instant I returned.
"Miss Melbourne," she said. "We need to meet."
My heart stopped. "There hasn't been another victim, has there? You said we have time."
"We do," she replied. "Which is why we need to meet sooner rather than later. Reading up on spells is one thing, but you require some hands-on practice. I refuse to let Veronica get to you."
Her words triggered a mix of emotions. Naturally, I had my knee-jerk reaction against practicing magic. It was quickly squashed by the realization that Ms. Terwilliger cared about me and was so concerned about keeping me safe. My own personal desire to not be in a coma was also a strong motivator.
"When do you want to meet, ma'am?" I asked.
"Tomorrow morning."
I realized tomorrow was Saturday. Already? Where had the week gone? I was driving Adrian to pick up his car in the morning, which hopefully wouldn't take a long time. "Could we meet at noon? I've got an errand to run."
"I suppose so," said Ms. Terwilliger, with some reluctance. "Meet me at my place, and then we'll go out to Lone Rock Park."
I was about to lie back on my bed and froze. "Why do we have to go out to the middle of the desert?" Lone Rock Park was remote and rarely saw many tourists. I hadn't forgotten how terrifying it was the last time she'd brought me out into the wilderness. At least this time we'd be in daylight.
"Well, we can hardly practice on school grounds," she pointed out
"True. . . ."
"Bring your book, and the components you've been working on."
We disconnected, and I jotted out a quick text to Adrian: Need to be fast tomorrow. Meeting Ms. T at 12. His response wasn't entirely unexpected: Why? Adrian naturally needed to know everything that was going on in my life. I texted back that Ms. Terwilliger wanted to work on magical protection. This time, he did surprise me: Can I watch? Wanna know how she's protecting you.
Wow, Adrian actually asked? He had a history of simply inviting himself along on outings. I hesitated, still confused after our heated moment at the sorority. He'd never mentioned it again, though, and his concern now touched me. I texted back that he could come along and was rewarded with a smiley face.
I didn't entirely know what to wear to "magical training," so I opted for comfortable layers the next morning. Adrian gave me a once-over when he got into Latte. "Casual mode, huh? Haven't seen that since the Wolfe days."
"I don't know what she has in mind," I explained, doing a U-turn on his street. "Figured this was best."
"You could have worn your AYE shirt."
"Wouldn't want to get it dirty," I said, grinning.
That was partially true. I still thought the fiery heart he'd painted was exquisite. But each time I looked at the shirt, too many memories seized me. What had I been thinking? That was a question I'd asked myself a hundred times, and every answer I came up with sounded fake. My preferred theory was that I'd simply been caught up in how serious Adrian had been about his art, how the emotion and passion had seized hold of him. Girls liked artists just as much as bad boys, right? Even now, something stirred in my chest when I thought about the enraptured look on his face. I loved that he possessed something so powerful in him.
But, as I told myself constantly, that was no excuse for climbing all over him and letting him kiss me - on my neck. I'd bought and downloaded the "bad boy" book online, but it had been completely useless in advising me. I finally decided the best way - if not the healthiest one - was to act like the moment had never happened. That didn't mean I forgot it. In fact, as I sat beside him in the car, I had a difficult time not thinking about how it had felt to be pressed up against him. Or how his fingers had felt entangled in my hair. Or how his lips had -
Sydney! Stop. Think of something else. Conjugate Latin verbs. Recite the periodic table.
None of those did any good. To Adrian's credit, he continued to withhold any commentary about that night. Finally, I found distraction in telling him about my trip to San Bernardino. Rehashing the conspiracy, rebel groups, and break-ins pretty much killed any passionate feelings I still had. Adrian didn't like the idea of Alchemists working with Warriors or of the tattoo controlling me. But he also didn't like me walking into danger. I tried to downplay the near impossibility of breaking into the St. Louis facility, but he clearly didn't believe me.
Ms. Terwilliger texted me twice not to be late to our meeting. I kept an eye on my watch, but the care of a Mustang was not something I took lightly, and I had to take my time at the mechanic's shop to make sure the Mustang was in pristine condition. Adrian had wanted to go with basic tires, but I'd urged him to upgrade, convincing him the extra cost would be worth it. And once I inspected them, I congratulated myself on the choice. Only after I was satisfied the car hadn't been unnecessarily scratched did I finally allow him to pay. We drove both cars back to Vista Azul, and I was pleased to see my timing was perfect. We weren't late, but Ms. Terwilliger was waiting on her porch for us.
