Page 26

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I FIDDLED WITH THE BUTTONS ON my shirt.

I’d done my best to dress nicely—a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt with my denim jacket tossed over it. I styled my hair and added hints of makeup and some nice jewelry. My teeth brushed, my gloves and wallet in my jacket pockets, and my phone in my hand, I sat in my desk chair and waited. I jiggled my leg in anxious energy, and my stomach was a ball of anxiety. All my prep hadn’t done anything to quell my nerves.

This wasn’t my first date. I’d had exactly one other, and it had been to a middle school dance in eighth grade. I’d met the girl there, given her a few flowers, and then she’d promptly abandoned me for her friends. I’d spent a lonely night drinking punch and texting Al from the gym bleachers.

Things could only go up from there.

Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse. I mean, it could . Maybe I shouldn’t tempt fate. I needed to think positively. Mateo had asked me out, but he’d also lied to me. And so had one of my friends. And my brother was living in a faery grove, and I wasn’t quite sure I could trust him. I didn’t think I could trust my parents, either. Maybe. And a girl was going to die if I didn’t figure out who had touched me in the fight in the hallway.

Speaking of, said girl was going to crash my date. Every time I thought of her, I couldn’t help but see the image of her in the field, which didn’t really add to the romantic nature of the affair.

I froze. Romance.

Oh, shit!

I flung myself out of my room and down the stairs. Once in the foyer, I dropped to my hands and knees and ducked to peer under the bench, pleading to any deity that would listen for it to miraculously still be there. It had been days since I’d dropped it and frankly forgotten about it. I stuck my arm underneath, squirming until my whole shoulder was firmly wedged beneath the bench, my fingers scrambling blindly along the hardwood. But aside from finding a lone sock and a bunch of dust bunnies that my mom would inevitably yell at the cleaning service about, there was nothing.

Maybe it had slid somewhere else, or maybe kicking it under the bench had been a fever dream, or maybe…

“Looking for something?” my mom asked.

I jolted, my shoulder slamming into the bench. I lurched to my feet, frantically brushing off the dust all over my arm.

My mom leaned against the frame of the archway that led to the dining room. She had a glass of wine in her hand and was dressed down in a T-shirt and yoga pants, her usual Saturday night, going-to-bed-early attire.

She held up the book.

I died a little inside. My hopes of avoiding this exact scenario shriveled up like a raisin.

I cleared my throat and shoved my clammy hands into my pockets. I didn’t have my gloves on because I’d been practicing my psychic blocks, like Alma and Edith had advised. “Yes?” I hedged.

She raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“Yes,” I said, reaching for the book.

She snatched it away, dangling it between two of her fingers like it was a used tissue instead of a popular book series. “Really, Cam?”

“It’s research!”

Her eyes climbed into her hairline.

“No!” I raised my hands. “Not that kind of research.”

“I read it. How is this research?”

“You read it? Really?”

“Not the point, Cam.”

“It’s for the lore!” I blurted. “The author is really accurate. I haven’t even read it yet. I dropped it the other day, and I’m meeting with the werewolves again soon, and—”

“Accurate?” she asked, cutting me off. Flipping the book over in her hand, she eyed the cover. “This book is accurate?”

“According to the werewolf who gave it to me.”

She hummed, then tucked the book under her arm. Her gaze cut to me. “And what are you all dressed up for?”

“I have a date.”

She arched an eyebrow. “A date?”

“Yeah. A date. Not clairvoyant-related.”

Which was a lie, but ever since I’d met with my long-lostbrother at the faery grove, I’d been a little reticent to share everything with my mom and dad. Not like I was open with them to begin with, but Aiden’s warning rang in my head despite the general atmosphere of acceptance that my parents had been giving off around me lately.

“Well,” she said, “you look nice.”

“I do?”

“Of course. As best you can with dyed hair.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom.”

She raised her hands, the contents in her glass sloshing. “What? I like your natural color. But at least the styling suits you.”

Well, that was the best I was probably going to get. I’d take it. “Thanks.”

She swirled the dark wine in her glass, the wave perilously close to spilling over. “I hope you have a nice time.”

“Thanks. Me too.” I rocked back on my heels. “So,” I said, wincing, then trailing off.

My mom sighed loudly. “When did it get so hard to talk to me, Cam?” She took a gulp. “Was it when Aiden left for college? No,” she said softly, answering her own question. “It was before that.”

And honestly, I didn’t know the answer. Maybe it had happened because I’d defaulted to going to Aiden instead. He was the person I’d told everything to and the person I’d sought for advice or for comfort. And that had been since I was small. He was approachable, and he gave great hugs, and he didn’t mind if I climbed into bed with him when I was upset. And I never felt any judgment from him about any of my life choices, like loving art or being best friends with a witch.

There was a lot to repair in the relationship with my parents if it was worth salvaging at all. According to Aiden it wasn’t, but I wasn’t sure. Right then my mom looked so vulnerable, so sad , and I didn’t feel great about it. I sighed. “What… what do you want to talk about?” I asked. I ground my toe into the hardwood of the floor, my sneaker squeaking.

“Oh,” she said, and then finished off her wine, setting the glass on the side table. “How… how are things going at school?”

I took a breath. “Ah, well, you know how high school is. Classes and studying and making new friends.” The last bit was my not-so-subtle reminder of what my parents had wanted for me at the beginning of the year and how I’d followed their advice… just not in the way they’d wanted.

“Well, I hope these new friends of yours like you for you and not for what you can do for them.”

Ah. I should’ve known my mom would turn it around on me. How was she so adept at knowing the things I worried about and then managing to expertly poke at them? I nervously fiddled with a button on my shirt. “I think my friendships are pretty solid.”

“Oh, good. Though I’d imagine you can never be too careful.”

My mom tilted her head to the side as if in thought. She ran her fingers along a slim chain around her neck, a necklace I hadn’t noticed before. She pulled the charm from beneath her shirt and absently ran it back and forth, causing a soft susurration as she slid it along the silver.

Then she smiled. “But don’t worry, Cam. I’m certain you’ll make good decisions and trust in yourself and your feelings.”

That caught me off guard. “You think?”

“Of course.” She took a step toward me, and I braced myself, imagining a thick barrier in my mind, as she cupped my cheek in her cool palm. “And it shouldn’t be something to worry about right now, anyway, because things might change.”

I didn’t glimpse. I could feel a tug, the smallest shivery call of my ability, but I blocked it out. And all that was left was the press of my mom’s touch against my cheek. And that was all . In my elation, I missed most of what my mom said, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t glimpsed .

“Cam,” she said, dropping her hand to my shoulder. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes! I did. But could you repeat it again for emphasis?”

“You’re only in high school,” she said, squeezing my upper arm. “You’re young. Things change. Relationships change. So you shouldn’t worry too much about it right now.”

The doorbell rang.

I jerked out of her grip and hurled myself at the door, wrenching it open. Mateo stood on the other side. He clutched a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. His leather jacket sat askew on his shoulders, and a small blush painted his cheeks, but otherwise he looked just as he did every day at school.

“Hi, Cam!”

“Hey, Mateo.”

“Ready to go?”

My mom padded forward. “Cam, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Uh. Sure. Mom, this is Mateo Lopez. And the girl idling by the curb in the car is his cousin Juana. She’s going to drive us.”

Mateo fidgeted on the doorstep. He awkwardly thrust out his free hand for my mom to shake. “Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, gingerly taking his hand. “And where will you be going?”

“We’re heading to Drip first for coffee.” I cleared my throat. “It’s where I hang out with Gemma,” I said at the same time that Mateo blurted, “We go all the time.”

If a hole could’ve swallowed me at that moment, I wouldn’t have been mad.

“And after?” my mom prompted.

“A walk in the park,” Mateo said stiffly.

My mom threaded her fingers together. “That sounds like a nice time.”

“Well!” I said, clapping my hands and rubbing them together. “We should head out. Don’t you think? Yep, let’s go. I won’t be out late. I promise. I have my phone!”

I pushed by Mateo on the stoop and slammed the door behind me.

Mateo exhaled shakily and followed me down the steps.

Juana greeted me when Mateo opened the back door. “Hey, Cam,” she said with a grin. She had perfect makeup, and her long hair was tied up in an intricate knot. “That looked a little awkward.”

I winced. “My mom can be a little… well… intense sometimes.”

“Ah, most parents are. Did you have a chance to read the book I lent you yet?”

“Oh, no, not yet.” I climbed in and, once seated, gave Juana a weak grin. “I’ve had a lot going on.”

She nodded. “Well, I’d love to hear your thoughts when you do.”

Mateo settled in beside me, his brows drawn together in question. I just shook my head, not wanting to explain.

We sat in the back of the car together while Juana drove. She had her music on low but left us to our own devices.

“You’re not wearing gloves,” Mateo said, noticing where my hands grasped my knees.

“Oh yeah. I’m practicing my psychic blocks. Kaci inspired me. I know she’s been exercising her psychic powers way longer than I have, but seeing her succeed really helped.”

Mateo cleared his throat. “Does that mean I can try holding your hand?”

My mouth went dry. My fingers twitched. “Uh, not now. The blocks just worked on my mom, but I don’t know how strong they are. Best not to test them right away. I don’t want to accidentally glimpse in your cousin’s back seat.”

Mateo frowned in disappointment.

I drummed my fingers against my knee. “But we can try later? Before I…” I glanced to where Juana sang softly to the music as she ran through a yellow light.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

After a few minutes, Juana pulled into the small parking lot next to Drip. She bounced inside, calling out to Val as soon as she crossed the threshold. Mateo and I followed at a more sedate pace. He paid for my large iced-coffee-and-sugar concoction, and we settled at a table while Juana talked Val’s ear off behind the counter.

I checked my phone. I had one text from Al, another from Gemma, and a third from Kaci, all stating they had made it to the old pool park. And then another one from Al with a selfie of the three of them, taken from a park bench with the view of the playground, pickleball courts, and the little kids’ soccer field behind them.

I sipped my coffee. “The others are already in the park,” I said, my voice low. “Al has sent picture evidence.”

Mateo snorted. “So much for our quiet date.”

My shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “We’ll go on another one later. After this is all settled.” I squirmed in my seat. “I mean, if you want to.”

Mateo ducked his head. “I want to. I just… don’t know why this isn’t one. You don’t need to do this, Cam. We know who the perpetrator is now.”

I took another slurp, the cold coffee sliding down my tight throat. “We don’t have all the information,” I said diplomatically. It still hurt to think that Reese could be a person who would commit such a violent act. Even with Gemma’s denial and hope for another reason that Reese could have been there, I couldn’t pretend that the clues didn’t stack against him perfectly. Yet I couldn’t help but bristle a little that Mateo so readily accepted that Reese was the villain of this story. It bothered me that he didn’t seem to be as conflicted about it as I was. “We need the location, Mateo. We can’t stop the glimpse, but we can give your family all the information they need to intervene if they can.”

He grumbled. “Fine.” He took a breath as he spun his own coffee in his hands. “I really like you, Cam.”

The corners of my lips ticked up in a helpless smile. “You do?”

Mateo nodded.

And for some reason that probably could be chalked up to bad self-preservation skills, I had to push. “Can I ask why?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I just—” I said, my plastic cup dimpling under my grip, “you’re popular. You could choose anyone from school.”

“You’re cute,” he said quickly. “And you care about people, and you accept people as they are without conditions.”

Warmth bloomed beneath my skin and spread into my cheeks. “Thank you. I like you too, for the record.”

“Can I ask why?”

“You’re thoughtful,” I said, my brow furrowed as I glared at the table. “And you listen, and I like that you’re quiet. It’s nice to be around you when my thoughts are loud.” I took a sip of my drink. “And you’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Mateo said, muffling a chuckle with his hand. “I want to take you on a real date. Not one where our friends are waiting for us, and not one where my cousin has to drive us around.”

My middle fluttered. “I’d like that. But the driving-around part might have to wait a while. I don’t have a license.”

Mateo grinned. “I will soon. I turn sixteen in a few months.”

“Well, I look forward to that.” I held out my cup, and with a fond shake of his head, Mateo knocked his drink into mine with a plastic thunk .

“Ready to go, lovebirds?” Juana asked, bounding over and wiggling her eyebrows.

Mateo blushed. My face burned hotter than it already had, and I knew my cheeks were fire-engine red. It helped that Mateo’s ears had flushed and pointed as well, so at least I wasn’t alone in my mortification.

“Yeah.” I stood, my drink clutched in one hand, and followed Juana and Mateo back to the car. Mateo and I slid into the back seat, our knees knocking.

Juana pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road.

Silence descended between us, the only sounds being the soft strains of a pop song on the radio and the road beneath Juana’s tires. While it could’ve been awkward, especially since we’d just admitted our mutual affection, it was more comfortable. An understanding had passed between us. We would date once this whole mess was behind us. Any niggling feeling that Mateo might only have been doing all this so that I would ally with the werewolf faction melted away in the face of his warm brown eyes and the sincerity in his expression.

I leaned against the car window as the day faded slowly into dusk. Juana paused at a stop sign and turned right. Wait.

“Um,” I said. “The old pool park is to the left.”

“Oh, we’re not going there,” she said, winking at me over her shoulder. “The sun is about to set, and where better to see it than the river park?” She took another turn.

I swallowed. “Well, I just thought—”

“Trust me, Cam. The river park is beautiful at this time of day. And they do have the best benches.” At a red light, she twisted toward the back seat. “I said I’d help you, remember? The river park is romantic. ” Oh no. This was not part of the plan. Discomfort squeezed in my chest.

Mateo gripped my knee, the weight of his hand heavy on my joint. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low. “We’ll recalibrate.”

I nodded, but unease prickled through me. Especially when we turned into the parking lot and passed a huge sign by the entrance.

T HIS PARK IS MAINTAINED BY THE N EW A MSTERDAM S UBURB CHAPTER OF THE S PRITE A LLIANCE .

“Is this Sprite Alliance territory?” I asked.

Juana shrugged. “Not any more than our neighborhood is Lopez werewolf territory. They don’t own the park. They just manage the upkeep.”

The lot held a smattering of cars. Juana parked in a space beneath a towering tree with thick branches, then turned to look at me. “It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, Cam. But it’s okay. You and Mateo will be able to have a nice walk, and I’ll be in your eyeline the entire time.”

Ha! Juana had read my apprehension as worry for her and not for myself. Which was great for the plan. But not so great for me.

Mateo and Juana exited the car, and I followed. I wasn’t as familiar with this park as I was with the one toward the center of town. I didn’t come here often. A cool breeze floated off the water, and the sun dipped toward the horizon, highlighting the sky and the ripples of the river with every shade of pink, orange, and gold. The flora in the parking lot alone were breathtaking, the air fragrant with the smell of flowers and the foliage a collage of vibrant colors.

I pulled out my phone to fire off a text to Al and inwardly groaned when I saw that I had absolutely no bars.

“Do you have a signal?” I asked Mateo as we followed Juana to the paved walking path.

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. “No. But I’m sure we’ll get one somewhere.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I typed a message anyway and hit send, hoping that once I did get a signal, the text would go through. Then I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and meandered after Juana and Mateo.

Juana found a bench on a sandy part of the river shore and plopped down on the sun-bleached wood. She had brought a canvas bag that contained a bottle of water, a book, and a large hoodie.

“Okay. This smutty werewolf romance is calling my name.” She shooed us away with her hands. “Off you go. Have fun. But not too much fun. And just yell if you need me. I’ll be able to hear.”

“Thanks,” I said with false cheer. But Juana didn’t pick up on my insincerity, judging by the large, toothy smile she cast my way.

I briskly marched down the paved path that curved around the river and toward the footbridge that spanned over it. The greenery on either side of the path was thick and verdant and tall, so much that I doubted Juana would be able to see us. Mateo jogged to keep up, then matched my pace, but neither of us said a word.

“I’m not okay with this,” I finally said through gritted teeth after we were halfway over the sparkling river. I paused at the apex and stared out over the park, taking in the setting sun. “We’re in sprite territory, and if Reese is the culprit, we could be in danger. And I’m not comfortable with glimpsing without Al, Gemma, and Kaci nearby. That was not the plan.”

Mateo held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to change our location.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I hissed. Annoyance and anxiety swirled in my middle.

“Juana does what Juana wants. She’s a free spirit.”

“Yeah, well, being a free spirit doesn’t give her a pass to be a jerk.” I rubbed my hands over my arms.

“She’s not a jerk, Cam.”

I blinked but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to pick a fight, and Juana was Mateo’s favorite person in the world, even if I thought the sentiment was misplaced. “Well, what are we going to do?” I yanked my phone from my pocket. The text to Al hadn’t sent.

Mateo shrugged. “We could enjoy the date?”

“Really?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my tone. I tugged on the hem of my jacket. “Do you think that enjoying anything is even a remote possibility for me right now?”

“Yeah. Really. We can walk around the lake until we get a signal to alert the others, and once we do, we can decide if it makes sense for them to come over here.”

I took a deep, centering breath. “Okay.” I gripped the glossy railing of the footbridge and peered over the edge. The crystal water swirled in small eddies beneath us as fat, golden fish darted in schools along the edges, probably hoping for some breadcrumbs from us. The lights along the path flickered to life as the sun sank below the horizon. Mateo joined me, his shoulder brushing mine. This should’ve been romantic—standing on a quaint bridge over a babbling river while the sun set, the perfume of flowers thick and intoxicating. But despite the atmosphere and Mateo’s presence, an eerie gloom settled around us, and the incongruence of the setting versus why we were really there cast a pall on the whole misplaced concept of our date. The situation felt jumbled like a dropped puzzle, like nothing fit, and it unnerved me down to my core.

“Come on,” I said, jerking my head toward the other side of the path. “Let’s go and see if we can find a signal.”

“Wait,” Mateo said softly. His hand hovered over mine where my bare fingers were gripping the bridge railing. “Are your psychic blocks up?”

My eyes fluttered closed. I imagined a large castle drawbridge pulled up and locked tight, the portcullis lowered and the drawbar pulled across the back of a heavy inner door. That was the most secure barrier I could imagine.

“Yeah,” I said, my throat dry.

Mateo’s touch was hesitant at first, but as his fingertips slid along the back of my hand and I managed to ignore the tug of a glimpse, he became emboldened. His fingers were warm against mine, a little rough and calloused, his knuckles large bumps, one of them slightly crooked. His palm was clammy when he pressed it into mine and interlocked our fingers.

“Are you okay?”

I licked my lips. “It’s nice.”

“It is.”

He squeezed my hand and then, without warning, leaned in and kissed my cheek.

My psychic barriers were strong enough to survive his touch, but they crumbled under the warm, wet press of his lips.

The world pitched beneath my feet.

And I fell.