Page 16 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Rev

"Have you seen Marley?" Jake asks, looking from me to Tripp like either of us should know where his girlfriend is.

We've only just stopped dancing, breathless and ready to collapse. I've been working hard to get Tripp's mind off of Marley tonight, and I had finally succeeded only for fucking Jake to pull this shit now.

"Last I saw, she was right here with you." Tripp says coldly.

"I went to talk to Mark for a minute." Jake shrugs.

"Check with Audrey." I suggest, glancing out at where the redhead is hanging on our other best friend.

Colton looks like he's somewhere else in his head, though his body sways and jerks with movements.

But he's not looking at his girlfriend..

. he seems like he couldn't care less if she disappeared. He might not even notice.

I'm worried about him.

If confessing to stalking wasn't bad enough, knowing that he's avoiding dealing with reality by drinking, always keeping a flask nearby, just proves that he's not in a good place.

Neither of my friends are, and I'm trying my best to save them, but I feel like I'm failing, like I'm in danger of losing everything that matters to me.

We watch as Jake struts off toward Colton and Audrey.

I don't know what Jake says to them, but I can immediately see the heat in their exchange, Colton tensing and Jake trying to make himself look bigger. As if he'd stand a chance.

"Shit." Tripp groans, shaking his head before darting off to intervene.

I don't know why he's trying so hard to keep the peace.

It would be better to just let them have it out with each other, get it out of their systems and hopefully get it over with.

I'm not delusional enough to think that it would solve all our group's problems, but it would at least release some of the tension that's been simmering for months now.

As it is, it's in danger of boiling over and burning us all.

I'm late to get there. Colton is already in Jake's face by the time I amble up to Tripp's side, assessing the situation. I'll intervene if I have to, but I really want to watch Colton lay Jake out, if only for a minute. It's not Colton, though, who knocks into Jake.

Jake wheels around, ready to throw a punch until he sees the blonde girl wince apologetically.

"Sorry!" She rushes out, moving past him, darting between Tripp and me.

Tripp and I exchange a glance, and then there's a massive rush as the crowd darts for the door.

"What the hell?" Tripp muses, putting another step between us as two seniors go rushing toward the door.

"Fight!" Someone yells and understanding finally takes hold. But there's an uneasy feeling in my stomach as we watch our classmates bolt toward the exit, and something tells me to go, too.

Tripp follows in the next instant, and I don't look back to see if everyone else came too.

There's a crowd at the exit, bodies forming a solid wall that blocks me from seeing anything. I snare Tripp's wrist and drag him behind me, forcing our way through the crowd until we get to the glass doors, where a line of chaperones stand, trying to bar our exit.

"Oh my God!" Tripp gasps, his eyes on the scenario unfolding on the other side of the door.

All I can see are flashing lights, red and blue cutting through the darkness outside. But Tripp's a good foot taller than most of us, and whatever he sees unsettles him.

"Marley!" He calls, and I don't know at first if he's calling for her or trying to warn me.

"No one needs to go out there," Mrs. Caryll says, shaking her shiny white bob. She's got her arms out on either side of her, like she means to capture anyone who tries to run at her, and I have to admit, I'd like to see her try.

It's Tripp who darts past her, taking advantage of the gap between her and Mr. Janetti.

He lowers his shoulder and brushes past them easily, throwing open the door despite their yells for him to stop.

Fucking hell. He would be great on the field with dexterity like that; he moves quickly for as big as he is.

I take advantage of the chaos as the two teachers begin to yell at one another, and dart around them to throw the door open to the frigid night.

Tripp is on his knees in front of someone, and it takes a moment for my brain to put two and two together and realize it's Marley.

"You're gonna need to stay back, son." An officer says, putting his hands up like he means to push me away from him.

But he'd have to cuff me and throw me in the back of the car to keep me from getting to Marley right now.

The officer only sighs as I dart past him, coming around to the front of Marley.

She's wrapped in a strange tin foil blanket, but it doesn't stop her from trembling. Tripp's got her hands in his, and she's looking down at him, but not answering.

"Fuck." I say, taking note of her wet dress, plastered against her skin. She smells like beer, so I don't have to think too hard about what it is as I scan her, looking for any sign of distress.

My eyes lock on the thin line of blood on her collarbone, and my stomach twists as rage takes over.

"What happened, Mars?" I demand, searching the scene for the source of whatever the fuck drew blood from my fucking girl.

The broken glass bottle on the ground explains the smell, but there's no way that bottle made such a clean cut. And I know Marley wasn't drinking it, so where the hell did it come from? Did someone throw a beer bottle at her?

"The guy..." She swallows, shaking her head the slightest. "He was drunk, I think. He..."

"What did he do?" Tripp asks, scanning her again for any damage. He runs a hand over her hair and cups the back of her head, and the intimacy, the devotion he looks at her with, makes my throat go dry.

"He called me a witch." She shakes her head in confusion, like she still doesn't understand for herself what happened. "He was just walking by and he saw me and started screaming that I was a witch."

"He's going to spend the night in the drunk tank, thinking about what he did." One of the officers assures her, nodding at the police car pulled up to the street.

I glance at it to find the man glaring at Marley, her dark eyes full of rage as he stares at the place where she stands. I'm grateful she can't see past Tripp, so she has no idea that he's still looking at her like he wants to set her on fire with his gaze.

"Is she free to go?" Tripp asks, straightening to his full height and addressing one of the officers, who still holds a note pad and pen. He hesitates for a minute, looking at Marley, and then sighs.

"Yeah," he nods, flipping the notebook shut with the pen still tucked inside. "Just give me a call if you decide you want to press charges, okay?"

Marley nods her understanding, and Tripp wraps an arm around her, heading down the stairs. I move to take her other side, blocking the view of her as we walk past the police cruiser, and the man in the back seat slams his head against the glass, his eyes crazed.

Tripp spots our limo easily, wasting no time leading us toward where it's parked behind the venue.

I'm going to ask how he knows it's the right one when the driver's door opens and the harried man steps out, brushing Cheeto dust from his sports coat.

"You're early!" He remarks as he rushes around to open the door for us.

Tripp doesn't bother giving him an explanation as he slides onto the leather seat, reaching a hand out to pull Marley beside him.

"She okay?" The driver asks, uneasy as he takes Marley in.

"She just needs a minute." I explain. "Give us some privacy."

His eyes take me in for a minute before sliding to Marley, who's already leaning against Tripp's chest. After a moment, he shakes his head, muttering to himself before shutting the door behind me when I slide in next to her other side.

After a moment, the driver gets back in his seat, casting a suspicious glance at us before the partition goes into place between us, leaving the three of us alone together. Much better.

"You're okay, Mars?" I ask, unsure what I can do to help.

"Just c-cold." She trembles, and I notice the blue tinge on her lips.

Tripp wraps her tighter in his arms, like that's going to do anything to help the matter. "Take your jacket off." I instruct him, moving to the button of my own sports coat and undoing it easily. When I look up, Tripp is watching me with heavy eyes full of confusion. "Bodyheat." I explain.

The less layers between us, the quicker we can warm her.

She's not in danger of hypothermia, obviously, but watching her entire body shake, this is the best I can think to do, so I do it, shrugging out of the jacket and letting it fall to the floor without ceremony.

I wrap an arm around her and pull her toward me, giving Tripp the chance to shrug out of his own coat as well.

But Tripp doesn't stop at his coat— he moves to the buttons on his shirt next, and I don't stop him as he undoes them with deft fingers.

My mouth is dry as I watch him, and when he drops that too, and sits before us with his torso bare, I think I might choke on my own tongue.

He doesn't pull her back to him, leaning over to wrap her between us instead, caging her between us with his arms braced overtop of mine.

Tripp keeps his head tucked against the top of hers, his lips pressed against her skull, and I know he must be breathing her in.

.. not the smell of the beer, but her shampoo.

I don't know how long we stay like that, with her pressed between us, but eventually she stops shaking, her body relaxing. She lets out a sigh, and I take it as tentative permission to move away from her... not that I want to.

"Thank you." She says quietly, glancing first to me, and then to Tripp.

I hear her gulp when she takes in his naked torso, and we both seem to take the minute to appreciate his physique.

Tripp won the genetic lottery, and Marley seems to notice as much as she eyes him.

Lucky bastard doesn't even have to try to look like that.

"How do you feel?" Tripp asks, his eyes full of concern as he searches her face.

Marley thinks for a moment. "Confused." She laughs, but it's a hollow sound. "I've never been accused of being a witch before."

"What were you doing out there?" I demand.

"I just... needed some air." She shakes her head. "I didn't expect all that.”

"Drunk bastard." Tripp swears, anger cutting through his words as he wires his jaw. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with that." I watch him over the top of her head as he swallows, his throat working. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." She answers fast, shaking her head.

"You're bleeding." I remind her, gesturing to the wound on her shoulder. It's clearly not life-threatening, but it's still dripping very slowly down her skin, the sliver of cleavage on her bodice, before splashing against the fabric.

Marley almost looks surprised when she glances down to see what I'm talking about.

"It's fine." She says after a minute, turning her attention back to me. "I'm okay."

"You could have been killed." Tripp's voice is harder than I think I've ever heard from him, and when I find his eyes, they're burning with his anger.

"No." Marley shakes her head. "He said something about my blood being tainted, but when he cut me, he was... surprised."

"Why?" I venture, earning a glare from Tripp.

"Because he's crazy."

I nod in agreement, letting Tripp know there's no need to fight me. I make love, not war.

"It's the air." I sigh, glancing out the window to where the full moon hangs bright and low in the sky. It's so dark it's nearly orange.

It's quiet a minute until I feel their eyes on the back of my neck. The sensation makes me shudder, but I do my best to suppress it, turning to see them both watching me expectantly.

"The air?" Marley asks.

"Hmm." I agree. "Can't you feel it? It's almost Halloween. The veil between worlds is thin, and that puts some people on edge."

Tripp stares at me like I lost my damn mind, but Marley nods like that makes sense. To be fair, with her mother being the town hippie, she's far more open minded than most.

"That's ridiculous." Tripp says firmly. "It was just a drunk with obvious mental issues who saw a girl all alone and thought he'd get his kicks."

I don't doubt that Tripp's right, that the man is suffering from some kind of issues that certainly aren't helped by his alcohol use.

But I'm right too. It's always been this way around here.

It's as though we get halfway through the month of September, and then all of a sudden, the days start to change.

The air fills with a different sort of static, and the impossible feels inevitable.

It's not something I've ever been able to explain to myself, much less others, so I don't even try. I only shrug.

Honestly, if magic is real, there's no one else I'd expect to be capable of it than the girl sitting between my best friend and I. If being magic makes her a witch, then maybe that drunk isn't as crazy as we thought.

Because something about Marley Lavigne is magic... I've known that from the first time I met her.