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Everyone’s definitely gawking now, but I don’t care. As long as Mack’s by my side, I can take on the Everwilde.
Last minute, I remember I left my iPad in my locker. Because Whitehall Academy uses all modern technology for lessons, note-taking, and tests, the Spring Court sponsored new iPads for all the students and made online test taking mandatory. Mack said they probably did that just to piss off the Winter Court, whose stance on mortal technology is less favorable.
I grab my iPad, thankful the battery is at seventy-five percent, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and sprint down the corridor toward the lecture hall. My tennis shoes squeak across the marble floor.
When I round the top of the stairs, I spot the closed door. Crap. I still have five minutes before the professor locks the door. Breathing hard, I wrench the door open and shuffle down the aisle—
Everything goes dark. What the frick? I freeze in confusion. As I take in the black sea of nothingness, cold dread seeps into my veins.
“Hello?” I call, my voice ringing in the absolute silence. As my eyes adjust, I slowly start to pick out shapes from the shadows. Tall, slender shapes.
Trees.
Okay, this is beyond weird. Could it be part of the test? I’ve heard that some professors hold their exams in the field, but wouldn’t they prepare us for that?
“It’s okay,” I whisper, searching the forest for a clue on where to go. “Don’t panic.”
Besides the unnerving quiet, the landscape is gray, lifeless, like a three-dimensional painting of a world that has yet to be colored. Everything is monochromatic and covered in—I swipe my finger across the trunk of a tree—ash?
I find a path. It doesn’t take very long until it hits me. I know this place.
My heart lurches sideways. This isn’t the Everwilde.
Even covered in ash, I recognize the type of trees, honey oak and Texas ash. A familiar path opens up. It zigzags through the forest as it leads to the . . .
Farmhouse. My farmhouse. My home.
A prickle of unease trails down my spine as I make out the humming carried on the light breeze, the same song Zinnia sings every day as she hangs the laundry on the line.
Something is wrong.
I jolt into a sprint toward the farmhouse, terror woven into every cell of my being. Movement catches my eye in my periphery. Shadows flicker strangely, almost like—
The shadow of the tree to my right peels from the ash-covered forest floor and lifts, changing shape as it does. Transforming into a—a—
The creature is so grotesque that I reel back in horror, almost falling on my butt. Spider-like legs stab the ground as the thing scrambles past me. A humanoid head with sunken, eyeless sockets and a withered lipless mouth turns to look at me. Two huge arachnoid fangs flash.
The forest fills with chittering as more spider-like monsters rise from the ash. I’m frozen with terror. Afraid if I move, they’ll notice me. That if I can just be so very still, all of this will go away.
But it’s like I’m not here. Like they’re moving past me, more interested in—
Oh, God.
I start to run, but I’m too late. Hundreds of monsters scurry across the forest toward the farmhouse.
No, please no. Horror curdles in my gut. I’m gagging on warm bile, struggling to drag air into my lungs enough to scream, to warn them.
This can’t be happening.
As I clear the tree line and the white two-story house comes into view, my world shrinks to the scene in front of me. Everyone is outside. Zinnia, Jane, and Tanner hanging up the laundry on the clothesline, Aunt Vi sipping a glass of iced tea on the porch. The twins are riding their bikes in circles around the well.
They don’t even have a chance to scream before the monsters descend. They swarm over my family, decimating the people I love most in this world before I can utter a gasp.
I collapse to my knees as the gurgle of blood, the sharp puncturing sound of fangs sinking through flesh, fills my mind.
Blood—so much blood. It’s everywhere. Sprayed in arcs over the white bed sheets swaying in the light breeze. And the smell—it’s choking me. Coating my throat and my mouth and oh God, I can’t take this—
Thrashing forward, I vomit. Heaving over and over until I can’t breathe.
