“On it,” Michael said, tapping the keyboard on his phone. “Gave Daniel the heads-up,” he said, then nodded when the phone beeped only a second later. “Enclave tomorrow night for the debriefing.”
“Then I think that means our work here is done,” Scout said. “Let’s go home.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Just in case there were any more nasties lumbering around, Jason and Michael escorted us to the door into St. Sophia’s. And then, wolfless, Scout and I made our way back through the main part of the convent and the Great Hall, where we studied during our mandatory two-hour study hall (I know, right?), to the building that housed our suite. The common room was dark when we unlocked the door and tiptoed inside, as was Lesley’s room.
But Amie’s door was open. The bedroom light was off, but Veronica was standing in the doorway.
My stomach turned.
Veronica took a step forward, closing Amie’s door behind her. She was dressed for bed in yoga pants and a tank top, her hair long and styled straight, circles beneath her eyes. She looked us over.
“Where have you two been?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the doorway.
I glanced between mine and Scout’s rooms, which faced each other across the suite, the doors wide open. That was an obvious signal that we weren’t tucked in like we were supposed to be—and hadn’t been for a while.
But Scout stayed calm. “We couldn’t sleep,” she said, “so we walked around for a little while.” She walked toward her room. When Veronica didn’t budge, Scout stopped and looked back at her. “What are you doing in our suite anyway?”
Veronica took a step forward and closed Amie’s door behind her. “We were studying. Unlike the two of you.”
Her voice rose at the end, like she was asking a question—or daring us to prove her wrong.
“I mean, it’s pretty weird,” she said. “You two just heading out to walk around or whatever. It doesn’t even look like you’ve been in bed at all.”
Scout and I exchanged a glance. This was going to be tricky. If we stuck to our “we were just walking around” story, she might think we were lying and do some investigating that would only inconvenience both of us.
We obviously couldn’t exactly tell her what we’d really been doing. But maybe if we told her something a little bit bad, we might answer her questions . . . and keep her from asking too many more.
“I went to meet my boyfriend,” I threw out. Okay, so I was fudging about our status, but the rest was true enough. “And Scout went with me. To, you know, prop the door open so I wouldn’t get locked out.” That sounded legit to me, anyway.
“You haven’t been here that long. You don’t have a boyfriend.”
I managed a bored eye roll. “That you know of.”
“Who is it?”
I made a little mental apology to Jason for outing our almost-relationship, but figured he’d get over it. “Jason Shepherd.”
Veronica’s eyes widened, and she uncrossed her arms. “From Montclare?”
I nodded.
“Isn’t he, like, John Creed’s friend?”
I opened my mouth to answer yes—Creed was a friend of Jason’s, a guy I’d met when Veronica and I had had our afternoon of friendship. He’d shared a flirty moment with Veronica at the store where we’d met them. Creed had dark hair and dark eyes, and just looked wealthy. It was obvious in the way he carried himself, in the way he talked. He was just comfortable in a way that said, “The world is at my feet.” But most important, he had a unique look. Funky designer watch, square-toed shoes, that kind of thing. I’d known rich kids who were joiners—who dressed just like everyone else—and rich kids who were so rich they didn’t have to be joiners. He was the nonjoiner type.
And Creed seemed friendly enough, but there was still something—I don’t know—odd about him. Something shadowy. Not like Reaper shadowy—I didn’t think he had magic, and he didn’t strike me as the type to run around in dark and damp tunnels in the middle of the night.
But I closed my mouth again. Had we just jumped from being in trouble for sneaking out to Veronica asking about Creed? Scout and I weren’t out of the woods yet, and we could probably use that.
Trying to play it cool, I just shrugged. “I guess they’re friends, yeah. Why?”
“No reason,” she said, but her cheeks blossomed pink. “Was he here?”
“Creed? No, just me and Jason and Scout.” I saw no need to also drag Michael into this. Besides, maybe Veronica had actually decided to turn her attentions elsewhere. Creed seemed more her speed anyway.
Veronica’s expression went flat again. “And where, exactly, did you meet Jason?”
“Admin wing,” Scout offered. “The very same door M.K. uses when she sneaks out to meet her boyfriend.”
Well, that was information I didn’t need.
Veronica’s eyes flashed, but since she didn’t move from her spot in the doorway, I guess the threat against M.K. hadn’t been all that effective. Scout tried again.
“They were in there, like, forever,” she said, sliding me a look of disgust. I tried to look guilty, shuffling my feet a little for good measure.
“That’s against the rules, you know.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I looked away, tucked some hair behind my ear and faked an attitude. “I’m almost sixteen. I do what I want.”
“She is from the East Coast,” Scout said. “They mature differently out there.”
“Well, whatever. It’s against the rules.”
“So’s spending the night in someone else’s suite,” Scout pointed out. “And I know you don’t want to get in trouble for that. So why don’t we all just go to bed and get in a good night’s sleep?”
Veronica’s lip curled, but she spun on her heel, walked into Amie’s bedroom, and slammed the door shut behind her.
Almost immediately, the door beside Amie’s opened. Lesley, our third roommate, glanced out. She was dressed in rainbow-striped pajama bottoms and a T-shirt with a pot of gold on it. Lesley knew about our midnight ramblings because—just as I’d done to Scout—she’d followed us into the basement one night. But she’d offered to help us, and she’d helped me out the night Scout disappeared. So as far as I could tell, she was one of the good guys. Or good girls. Whatever.