Abruptly Ben was beside me, his hand finding mine. “Later, Tor. Right now we need to get out of this poor sap’s final resting place.”
He’s right. Maintain focus.
Forcing myself calm, I bottled my rage for a later date.
Then Shelton’s voice echoed from above. “Someone’s coming down the path!”
“What should we do?” Hi hissed. “We can’t hide down here.”
“It’s a monk!” Shelton squeaked. “He just crossed the bridge!”
“Plan?” Ben was watching me intently.
My mind raced, came up empty. This trip was a full-fledged debacle. I sighed. “We take our medicine. Pray for leniency.”
“Guys, come on up.” Shelton called in a tight voice. “It’s Brother Patterson. He’s at the gate, and he’s … he’s not happy. At all.”
That was a massive understatement.
Turns out, a monk can be livid. I saw it firsthand after stepping into the sunlight.
“Of all the disrespectful, reprehensible acts!” Patterson herded us out of the cemetery at a near trot. “I don’t know what kind of juvenile pranks you had planned, but you are never to set foot on these grounds again! The entire order will be given your names and descriptions.”
We took the haranguing in silence. What was there to say?
“To think I’d gone to the library to help you!” A vein bulged on Patterson’s forehead. “The brother there had no idea what I was talking about. Of course not, since you never entered the building! I almost didn’t check up here, since I’d specifically told you the cemetery was off-limits.”
I couldn’t meet his eye. “We’re very sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me, young lady. You violated holy ground. It’s to God you owe penance. Count yourself lucky I’m not taking the time to track down your parents.”
The walk to the welcome center was endless.
Once there, the boys scurried to Kit’s 4Runner like rats. Patterson stood in the parking lot, intent on actually watching us drive away.
Before climbing into the passenger seat, I made one last effort. “I’m deeply sorry, Brother Patterson. I don’t expect you to believe me, but we truly meant no disrespect. Thank you for showing us your wonderful abbey.”
Patterson’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “I’ve no idea why you would do a thing like this, young lady. Disturbing a grave! You seem like a nice girl, so I hope the shame of this day stays with you, and helps you make better choices in the future.”
Having gutted me with guilt, Patterson turned and walked back to the building.
“Options?” Ben asked as he pulled out onto the highway.
“I think some charitable work might be in order,” Hi said. “I’m not a Jesus man, but I’m pretty sure getting ripped a new one by a monk is bad karma in any religion.”
Ben snorted. “I meant about The Game.”
“What do you think, Tor?” Shelton was methodically wiping his glasses. “Lately it seems like everything we try blows up in our faces.”
“We’ve reached a dead end.” Admitting failure burned, but facts were facts. “We can’t trace the snare gun without access to LIRI’s security files, and we can’t ID the Gamemaster’s victim without a new picture. And since the body just vanished, we can’t even report a crime.”
“So our hunt for the Gamemaster is over?” Hi asked.
It’ll never be over. Not for me. I know Aunt Tempe wouldn’t quit.
“Temporarily,” I said. “Right now, we have to focus on winning The Game. We have to nail down the final location, and stop whatever horror this psychopath has planned.”
“Two days.” Hi was staring out the window. “That’s not much time.”
No. It’s not.
CHAPTER 39
THE NEXT DAY, Bolton’s halls buzzed with talk of Hurricane Katelyn.
“The projections have all jogged to the northeast.” Hi was reading weather.com on his iPhone. “Winds are down to Cat Three, with possible landfalls now including most of North Carolina.”
“So long as it’s North Cack.” Shelton shut his locker. “Don’t forget where we live, bro. A good storm surge could put Morris Island completely underwater.”
“The good news is—” Hi placed a faux-comforting hand on my shoulder, “—the hurricane won’t strike until the weekend, at the earliest. The deb ball is safe.”
“Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d hate to have my execution stayed.”
I was twirling my combination lock when Ben appeared.
“Anything new?” He stepped close to avoid being overheard. “About The Game, I mean. The deadline’s tomorrow night.”
“The castle connection is all I’ve got,” I said. “But it feels right. It can’t be coincidence that zero hour falls at the exact time of the ball.”
“Why not?” Shelton argued. “If we’ve just randomly fallen into some wackjob’s trap, the timing might have nothing to do with our social calendar.”
“Even if we weren’t targeted originally,” I countered, “the Gamemaster certainly knows about us now. The photos, remember? It’s not a stretch to think he learned our schedules.”
“The very first cache sent us to Pinckney,” Hi pointed out. “So the Gamemaster picked that destination before we started playing. That means one of three things.” He raised a finger for each possibility. “We were selected from the beginning. The bomb location changed to The Citadel after he started following us. Or Tory’s castle theory simply doesn’t fly.”
I paused to assess Hi’s reasoning. “Or the debutante ball was always the final objective, and our attendance is a fluke.”
“So now coincidence is back in play?” Ben derided. “Make up your mind.”
Ben’s jaw was tense. It seemed like the pressure was getting to him.
He wasn’t the only one. Every minute that slipped by amped my anxiety level. What if we weren’t up to the Gamemaster’s challenge? If we failed, it could cost the lives of people walking this very hallway. The stakes were staggering.
Shelton spoke softly. “There’s nothing solid pointing to The Citadel.”
He was right. But every fiber of my being was screaming that my hunch was correct. Which meant, logically, that we were chosen to play The Game.
The notion filled me with dread.
“Let’s talk at lunch.” I started down the hall. “We’ll figure it out, once and for all.”
The morning came and went. Most Bolton students were attending the ball in some capacity, and gossip was everywhere. I overheard dozens of whispered conversations about escort selections and rumored dress prices. When lunch finally arrived, I headed outside to meet the other Virals.
As if to deny the possibility of an onrushing tempest, the weather was a crisp, cloudless sixty-five. I circled to the rear of the grounds, expecting the area near the pond to be empty.
I was wrong.
Madison and Chance were seated on a bench with their backs to the building. She was speaking animatedly, hands fluttering to emphasize her points. Chance contributed the occasional nod.
I would’ve given my life savings to eavesdrop.
Then do it. You know you can.
My pulse quickened. Should I? A quick three-sixty confirmed that no one else was close by. What’s the point of superpowers if you never use them?
I slipped behind a tree.
SNAP.
The flare came easily, boosting my senses into hyperspace.
A thousand scents flooded my nostrils. Sticky, pitchy pine. Algae-coated pond water. A slight hint of peanut butter. My eyes tracked fruit flies swarming in the branches overhead, dancing among bright arrows of sunlight. I tasted a tang on the breeze, loamy dust mixed with sweet hydrangea. Felt the wind caress individual hairs on my arms.
Most importantly, I heard two voices arguing quietly.
Peering around the tree, I studied my quarry. Madison’s shoulders were tense and her back was rigid. A ring-decked hand kept worrying
her hair.
Nice rocks. Keep talking.
“You’re not taking me seriously!” Frustration sharpened Madison’s words.
“Of course I am.” Chance said calmly, eyes never leaving the pond. “I don’t share everything with you, but I haven’t been idle.”
“Do you really think—” Madison’s voice dropped to a shrill whisper.
I inched forward, straining to overhear.
“Don’t you think there’s something freaky about her? Like, for real? That she’s not normal?” Madison’s delicate features contorted into a grimace. “Other than being a total loser, I mean.”
Chance took a long time to answer. “Enough with the petty insults. You saw what you saw. I have my own suspicions. But neither of us has any proof.”
“Tory’s possessed.” Madison shook with the vehemence of her words. “Or, like, a witch or something. I saw evil in her eyes. It wasn’t natural, I just know it!”
A tremor ran through me.
My worst fears, confirmed.
Madison had seen the flare in my eyes. Chance had witnessed much more than that. And here they were, together, discussing me. Making plans.
Nightmare.
What did Chance mean, that he hadn’t been idle? I had to know more.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Hi and Shelton stroll from the building. They angled for a bench beyond the trees screening me from Chance and Madison. A moment later Ben joined them. Facing the opposite direction, the trio pulled sandwiches from their lunch bags.
Neither group was looking my way.
I felt a tingle in my brainpan. My pack was close, though not complete.
No. Crazy.
The idea scared me, but I acted before reconsidering.
Closing my eyes, I sought the empty space in my mind. Visualized the flaming cords connecting me to the other Virals. And there they were. Fiery lines, faint, weakened by distance and the fact that the boys were not flaring. Coop was no more than a blur in the ether.
You’re not at full strength. This might be a bad idea.
Ignoring my own good advice, I tried something I’d never done.
I opened my eyes. Narrowed my focus to the couple on the bench by the pond.
Chance and Madison. Madison and Chance.
Projecting my consciousness in their direction, I searched for their minds.
Heat surged through me. Shards of glass pierced my skull and raked across my cerebral cortex. Ignoring the pain, I forced my thoughts forward, outward, untethered from my body.
The world grew hazy. Grainy. My head swam. I shut my eyes again.
Two bubbles appeared in the subliminal void.
I forced my mind toward them. Contacted one.
A deafening buzz. Then Madison’s voice exploded inside my head. Thunderous. Words too garbled to understand.
It’s working! I can hear her thoughts!
Someone shrieked.
SNUP.
My eyes flew open.
I wasn’t sure if the scream came from outside or within.
Madison slapped at herself as if covered in spiders. Her head whipped wildly, like a hunted animal.
I clung to the tree, shaking, thankful it hid me from the duo by the pond. Glancing over one shoulder, I saw the other Virals staring at me in shock.
My consciousness recoiled like a broken rubber band.
I tumbled into darkness.
CHAPTER 40
VOICES INTRUDED FROM far away.
“Oh man, she really did it this time!”
“Should we call the nurse?” Panicky. “An ambulance?”
“And say what, exactly?” hissed a third. “That our friend passed out after some bad telepathy?”
The words were distant. Thin. Like radio transmissions from an old submarine. I tried to block them, to stay wrapped in murky oblivion.
The voices wouldn’t let me.
“What was she thinking?” Angry. Disturbing my blissful drift.
Ben. Why’s he so upset?
“She went too far!” Fretful. Shelton? “What if she couldn’t get back?”
Against my will, one eye cracked open. Three silhouettes hovered over me, backlit by brilliant white light. For a crazy moment I thought of heaven.
That notion jarred me awake.
I moaned weakly.
“She’s coming around!” The roundest shape coalesced into Hi. “Tor? You okay? If you’ve gone vegetable, blink at me.”
“Real nice,” I wheezed. The effort nearly put me back under.
“Help her sit.” Shelton still sounded anxious. “Ben, get some water.”
As Ben ran off, Hi and Shelton pulled me to a seated position. My head pounded. I was very close to puking in my own lap.
Gingerly, I surveyed my surroundings. Bolton Prep. Outside. East lawn, just off the main entrance.
I licked my lips. “Time?”
“Lunch is almost over.” Hi was scanning for observers. “You’ve been out two full minutes.”
Unsure how to help, Shelton nervously patted my arm. “What happened?”
“Flared. Tried to read minds.” I was too shell-shocked to lie.
“Chance and Madison?” Shelton grabbed both earlobes. “Are you crazy!?”
“Maybe.” I leaned to the side, hawked, spat. “Didn’t work.”
“So that’s why Madison wigged out.” Shelton began pacing. “She jetted inside a second after you dropped.”
Hi was rubbing his forehead. “Tell me they didn’t catch you.”
“Not sure.” I staggered upright. Wiped spittle from my cheek. “Don’t think so.”
I replayed the moment my consciousness touched the bubble. I’d known it was Madison, not Chance. Was certain. For a nanosecond I’d recognized her thoughts, though I hadn’t understood them.
Had Madison felt something on her end? Did she sense it was me poking around?
How could I be so stupid?
“How could you be so stupid?”
Ben unsealed a bottled water and held it to my lips. I gulped, swished a mouthful, then spat on the grass.
I agreed with Ben, but would never admit it now.
“They were saying things. About me.” My brain was still slightly derailed. “They suspect. I was trying to find out what they know.”
“Not cool.” Surprisingly, it was Hi who said it. “Breaking into their minds? That’s going way too far.”
“Didn’t work.” Though my pride wouldn’t let me simply agree, I was ashamed of my impulsive decision. The intensity of the last few days was warping my judgment.
The bell rang. The trio examined me, appraising my condition.
“I’m fine.” No way they’d decide what was best for me. “Just help me to class.”
My eyes wouldn’t focus. Golf balls rattled inside my skull. My stomach writhed like a shaken Coke. But I was determined to avoid more attention.
You did this to yourself. Take your punishment.
Wobbly, I allowed the boys to shepherd me through the front doors.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
Trudging up my front steps, I thanked every deity I could name. I’d survived. My bed was mere seconds away.
I hadn’t fully processed the incident with Madison. Keeping upright in class had required all my energy. But standing outside my home, fumbling for keys, I finally reflected on what happened.
Why had my telepathy failed? Because I’d reached outside the pack? Because the boys hadn’t been flaring? Because Coop wasn’t there?
My splitting headache proved the experiment had been dangerous.
Had I learned my lesson? Probably not.
If anything, I was even more curious about what my powers could do.
Flashbulb images strobed in my head. Darkness on the golf course. A thin, gleaming wire. Myself, seen through Coop’s eyes.
Was that what I’d been hoping for? To sneak inside my enemies’ minds?
A sour feeling clenched my gut. So blatantly wrong.<
br />
But I had touched Madison’s thoughts, if only for a moment. It was possible.
Then some force had repelled my probing, KO’ing me in the process. Since I didn’t understand how I’d made contact, how could I guess why things went sideways?
Problems for another time.
Right then, a nap topped my agenda.
Which made Whitney’s presence so incredibly cruel.
“There you are, sugar!” Practically dancing across the carpet in her lavender ballet flats. “You’ll never guess what I have!”
“What?” Choking back tears. It was sleepy time. I glared at Cooper snoozing in his doggie bed. Thanks for the warning, mutt.
Whitney swept a hand toward a long white box on the dining room table.
“Your gown is finally ready.” As if its status was of national importance. “At long last. I can’t wait to see it on!”
Blargh.
I’d forgotten about the damn dress.
Whitney had nattered on about it for weeks, casually reminding Kit and me that it was expensive, trendy, and very hard to find. Her boutique BFF had resisted the idea of alterations—the dress being a loaner—but Whitney had insisted. The woman is a world-class insister.
So there it was.
And I couldn’t have cared less.
“Let’s try it on later.” I opted for manipulation over defiance. “I’m exhausted from school, and won’t do the dress justice. After dinner we can make a show of it.”
Whitney’s smile nearly dislocated her jaw. “What a fabulous idea!”
Banging. Loud.
“Tory!” Kit yelled through my door. “It’s past seven. Time to eat.” “Wha happa cha?” My thoughts were scrambled by dark dreams of snapping jaws and watching eyes.
“Dinner. Whitney says you two have a surprise planned?”
The lingering nightmare was replaced by a waking one.
I had zero interest in parading for my father’s girlfriend.
FML. “Coming.”
I trudged to the bathroom, scrubbed my teeth, then plodded downstairs. Whitney and Kit were at the table, spooning salad into bowls.
“There’s our princess!” Whitney virtually bounced in her chair. “Are you excited? Think you’ll sleep tonight? I didn’t get a wink for two days before my debut!”