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“Not really. I mean, other than me being kidnapped and all.” Her voice was dry as toast.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. He did say Jeremiah was interested in you.”

Scout went a little pale. “I gotta tell you, that does not thrill me.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? They’re after you ’cause you’re some kind of wonder sorceress, and I’m some kind of crazy, firespell-wielding Adept.”

“You know, we could totally turn that into a comic book.”

“Who’d want to read about pimply teenagers with boy issues and magic problems?” We looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

A knock sounded at the door. “It’s open,” Scout said.

The knob turned, and Lesley stood in the doorway, blinking wide eyes at us. “I need to show you something,” she said.

“What?” Scout asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think it falls into your jurisdiction.”

Without so much as a word, apparently trusting that Lesley had seen something important, Scout gathered up her messenger bag.

“Let’s go.”

15

“Let’s go,” of course, was easier said than done when we were being stalked by the brat pack. The three of us emerged into the suite to find Veronica walking into Amie’s room, stack of magazines in hand. She wore the kind of grubby clothes that beautiful girls could get away with—flip-flops, blond hair in a messy knot, rolled-up sweatpants, and a tank top.

Veronica stopped, free hand on the doorknob, and looked us over. “What are you doing?”

We bobbled forward as Scout pulled the door shut behind us and hitched up her messenger bag. “We’re going to find a quiet place to study. What are you doing?”

Veronica held up the magazines. “Self-explanatory?”

“Excellent,” Scout said. “Good luck with that.”

“I know something’s up,” she said. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.”

“Something like how M.K. sneaks out at night to meet her boyfriend, you mean?” I smiled innocently at Veronica.

She all but growled, but kept her eyes on me. “Are you going to meet Jason?” she asked.

“Of course not,” I said, but I could feel the blush heating my cheeks. I’d never been a very good liar, and while I’d been mostly honest—we weren’t planning to meet him—who knew what the night would hold?

“What about John Creed?”

There it was again. Veronica was clearly obsessed with Creed. Why not just call the boy and ask him out?

“We’ll be studying,” Scout repeated. She opened her messenger bag to show Veronica her art history book. “You want to join us?”

Veronica watched us for a minute. “No, thanks,” she said.

She didn’t say anything else as we headed out the door, but I could feel her eyes on us as we left.

Lesley led us through the Great Hall and then into the main building. When we got there, she led us down into the basement along the route we used to get to the vault door.

“It’s down there,” she said, pointing down the stairs.

“What is?” I asked, nervousness building in my chest.

“You’ll see.”

“Do me a favor?” Scout asked. “Could you stay up here?”

Lesley didn’t answer, but Scout apparently took her silence as agreement, as she pulled my elbow and tugged me down the stairs.

We found what Lesley had seen when we reached the corridor just ahead of the vault door—a trail of thick, ropey slime that led all the way back to the vault door, which stood wide open. There was no glow from the wards.

“Oh, crap,” Scout said.

“You think it’s from—”

“Where else would it come from?” She frowned and surveyed the goop. “It has to be the creatures. Maybe the wards didn’t hold.”

“Temperance faded after a while,” I pointed out. “Even with the power boost, the wards might not have held forever. Maybe those Reaper girls broke through them again, and the rat thingies followed them in.”

“And then the rats ate the girls?” she asked hopefully.

“Or they’re working together.”

Scout froze. “That would be very, very bad. Reapers are awful. Reapers with minions are far beyond awful.”

“What’s the other option?”

“Maybe they just skipped in after the girls.”

We both looked up. Lesley stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over her chest.

Scout gave her a look of disapproval. “We told you to wait upstairs.”

Lesley lifted her nose, and with a voice I’d never heard her use before, gave that attitude right back to Scout. “I am not a child, so don’t talk to me like that.”

It took Scout a moment, but she backed off. “You’re right,” Scout said. “I’m sorry—but that doesn’t mean—”

Lesley cut her off with a hand. “I told you I’d help you,” she said. “And I’m not going to leave just because things get slimy. Literally.”

It took Scout a moment to respond. I understood why—even after I’d taken firespell, she hesitated to bring me into the fold. She’d worried about my safety; after all, if a Reaper thought I had information about Adepts, they might use me to get to them. It was probably the same fear she had for Mrs. M and for her friend Derek, who worked at a bodega near the school.

“It’s dangerous,” Scout finally said, “to know too much.”

Lesley took a step forward. “I know what people think about me. That I’m weird. That I study or practice my cello, but can’t do anything else.” She shook her head. “Just because I’m not a social butterfly doesn’t mean I’m not smart or capable. I am,” she insisted. “And I’m loyal. I just want a chance to be something more than the weird girl, even if you two are the only ones who know it.”

We stood quietly for a minute. I’m not sure what Scout was thinking, but I was impressed. How many friends did you have who offered themselves up—to danger, to the unknown—because they wanted to help? Not because they wanted anything in return, or because they’d get credentials or fame out of it, but because it was the right thing to do?

“And the danger?” Scout asked.

Lesley rolled her eyes. “Take a step back.”