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He shouted incoherently and ran at me.

I screamed and ran backwards, hit the wall and fell to the ground in surprise, curling up in a ball, expecting to get hit or kicked. My body went into tornado mode on muscle memory, hands protecting my neck, elbows my head, breathing fast into the shallow space between me and my cleavage.

Which was why I didn’t hear it at first—I was too busy panicking, my own blood echoing in my ears. But when I realized I wasn’t getting pummeled, I relaxed and dared to feel.

Stationary drills zeeeeered and grinders spun and compressors hissed out fits of air like spitting cobras. The fact that my powers were rapid-cycle failing made everything even more fearsome, it was like being stuck in the strobing part of a haunted house. Mason looked around for an accomplice and finding none, stood above me, staring down in abject horror.

I uncurled, pressing my hands against the wall for strength as I stood. My head was pounding, my vision swirling.

“What the fuck,” Mason whispered, dancing back as a lightbulb burst overhead, showering us both in broken glass.

This was it—the bottom of the well—the last few sputters of my powers. I had to make it count. “I don’t need a stingray, Mason,” I whispered. “You’re going to give me your goddamned pictures, or I’m going to get you expelled and then come to your house and steal them from you.”

Something at the back of the shop inflated too far and popped. “Okay! Just—stop this, okay? I can get you a USB tomorrow.”

The next time my powers flicked off, I left it there. The sudden silence was even creepier than the sounds had been, and Mason looked over his shoulders again.

“Tomorrow,” I threatened.

“Yes. But not at school though—no one can see us together.”

“I’ll text you somewhere safe.” As soon as I figured out where that might be. I walked toward the door of the garage, my strength ebbing, and heard Mason lock up behind me. Then I saw him run to his truck, peel out, and miscalculate, scraping the side of his truck on the open gate.

Lacey got out of her car and rushed over. “How’d it go?” she asked, and the very last thing I heard was, “Are you okay?”

CHAPTER 52

Iblinked to life and found myself on asphalt, with Lacey looking down worriedly.

“What—” I looked around, first fast, and then as my headache hit, much much much more slowly, and saw that we were still in the confines of Mason’s parking-lot, what with the razor-wire halo behind Lacey’s head right now.

“I should’ve never left you alone—I should’ve gone in there with you,” Lacey was saying, mostly to herself.

I moved enough to attract her attention. “What happened?”

“You fainted!” Lacey protested.

“Ugh.” I strained to sit up and somehow managed. My head felt like it had a time-portal inside it and a T. Rex struggling to crawl out.

“And before that?”

“Mason ran out like he’d set a fire and raced away in his car before I could even get out. I came out and then you fainted. I thought he’d hurt you or something.”

Or something indeed.

She hauled me up by my shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—I think. How long was I out?”

She let go of me with one hand to grab her phone. “It’s just now eleven-ten. You were down for five—no, seven minutes.”

“God.”

A Corolla zoomed in, then squealed to a halt five feet away from crushing us both. Darius leapt out, leaving his blinding headlights on.

“It was him, or 911,” Lacey explained.

“What the hell happened? And why didn’t you tell me?” Darius demanded, kneeling down.