Chapter 7
You showed.” Miles had spent the whole bus ride to school convincing himself Gabriel wouldn’t be waiting at their courtyard table Monday morning, that he’d vanish without warning again. He hated the tentativeness in his voice, how uncertain he felt as he sat down to join him.
Gabriel looked like he hadn’t slept much, but that wasn’t uncommon. He also didn’t look particularly pleased to see Miles. “And, apparently, I missed something while I was gone.”
“What do you mean?”
His disdainful scan of the crowd could’ve curdled milk. “Have you somehow failed to notice the alarming number of costumes?”
A group in animal onesies walked by; behind them, a girl dressed as Barbie was handing textbooks to a boy in full pirate garb.
It was the coldest morning of autumn so far, but that hadn’t deterred anyone.
A sea of colorful outfits blanketed the walkway and grass, and there was more energy in the air than a usual Monday.
“Oh, yeah. You missed the assembly on Friday—it’s Spirit Week.” At Gabriel’s blank expression, Miles added, “It’s for the homecoming dance. Every day this week has a theme you can dress up for. Friday is a big football game, and the dance is Saturday night. It’s tradition.”
“Are these required activities?” Dread colored Gabriel’s voice.
Miles considered saying yes just to watch him panic. “Nah, it’s to show your school spirit or whatever. Classes have competitions for dressing up, but it’s not serious.”
“I refuse to believe people are willingly dressing like that.”
It was a lot, even for Miles, but it had its charm. “C’mon, costume day is a classic. It’s like early Halloween, minus the free candy.”
Gabriel didn’t crack a smile. “Halloween is never this frightening.”
If he was this grumpy over costumes, Miles could only imagine his reaction to pajama day. Knowing him, he exclusively wore matching old man button-up pajama sets in thrilling varieties of black and gray. And he probably managed to make them look great.
He shot Gabriel’s dark plaid scarf an envious glance. Gabriel pulled it off better than Miles ever could, the knotted fabric making him look mysterious and brooding instead of like the president of the drama club.
“So, how’d everything go with Edmund and Bram?” Miles asked. “And your mom?”
“Fine.”
Miles waited, but Gabriel didn’t continue. “They weren’t mad at you?”
“Bram doesn’t know how to stay angry, so he forgave me immediately.” Gabriel dragged the words out, like he was put out by having to share. “Edmund was as dramatic as you’d expect. Apparently, the stress of the last few days and generally being my brother has taken years off his life.”
Yeah, that sounded about right. Miles could picture Edmund draping himself across the nearest piece of furniture as he bemoaned Gabriel’s choices, unable to bear it a moment longer.
“Did he tell your mom?”
Sneaking around to meet with Gabriel already wasn’t ideal, but having to dodge Felicity on top of that was a worst-case scenario.
“No. He won’t admit it, but I think he was too scared to tell her. Apparently”—Gabriel’s mouth twisted bitterly— “she didn’t even realize I was gone.”
Felicity was a monster, but man, Miles was a little jealous of her nonchalant approach to parenting. “Well, that’s a relief.”
He realized his mistake when Gabriel’s shoulders stiffened, lifting towards his ears.
“I mean”—Miles stumbled over his words—“she sounds like she’s been pretty busy. I’m sure that’s the only reason she didn’t notice.”
“It’s fine,” Gabriel replied curtly. “Better than fine. It saves me a lot of trouble.”
Yep, Miles had put his foot in his mouth. Felicity was awful, even her own kids thought so, but she was still their mom. He couldn’t blame Gabriel for waiting for the day she’d start caring. Maybe that was why he was in such a mood this morning.
“She should’ve realized,” he stated firmly. “And I’m sorry she didn’t.”
He reached for Gabriel’s hand, intending to give him an apologetic squeeze safely hidden beneath the table, but the moment their fingers grazed, Gabriel pulled away.
“It doesn’t matter. I have more important things to focus on than my mother’s questionable parenting. We need to discuss our new plan.”
It stung, but Miles let him change the subject.
The touchy-feely talk might’ve been too much for him.
“I don’t think much has changed. Your premonition”—it was easier to call it that than ‘your vision of my upcoming death’— “doesn’t really affect anything.
And Jocelyn didn’t bother sharing any new cryptic hints.
I wish I knew what her deal was so we could—” He stopped, something occurring to him.
“Wait, why is she even giving me warnings? I assumed her unfinished business was stopping her sister, but Florence isn’t the murderer. ”
“Perhaps since the curse started with her, she sees it as her duty to end it.” Gabriel focused on the trees across the courtyard—their leaves were that comforting shade of golden-orange that never failed to make Miles think of warm tea, thick sweaters, and his mom’s butternut squash soup.
“Or she’s acting like your guardian angel, since you’re family.
” Miles thought back to his dream as a blonde girl dressed as a fairy slipped in the dewy grass with a shriek, her friend cackling.
“When I talked to her, it seemed like she was in pain. She heard me reach out but couldn’t respond because her bonds were too strong.
I think she hasn’t moved on because she can’t. Something’s holding her here.”
It could be some kind of binding ritual, like ghost jail. Was that even possible? He’d never heard of anything like it.
“Tragic, but it doesn’t do much to help us. We can find a way to free her spirit after we deal with the more pressing matters.”
Plus, Jocelyn being present in Gabriel’s death premonition was enough to make Miles apprehensive to actively seek her out.
“I guess until we get a new lead on the killer, we should focus on the grimoire, right? Tackle the curse.”
“I don’t agree. The killer’s identity should be our priority.”
“I’m not saying we ignore the fact there’s a killer coming for us,” Miles said placatingly, “but we shouldn’t waste our time. We have the grimoire. It would be stupid to set it aside.”
A loaded beat of silence passed. Leaves crunched as a group of students trudged through the grass, one girl struggling with a massive posterboard tucked under her arm as the wind picked up.
“Fine. At least until I find a new lead on the murderer.”
How, exactly, did he expect to do that—was he going to conjure up a list of Thistle’s most likely killers from thin air?
“Deal. The grimoire’s going to be complicated, though.
You’re not handling that thing alone. I would offer”—the thought made Miles’s skin crawl—“but I’m worried someone at home will sense it if I have it out of the containment box for too long.
I guess I could take it somewhere else, but that’s going to be tricky without Blanche.
” Poor, beautiful Blanche. It was tragic that you could never fully appreciate something until it was snatched away by a murderous ghost trying to barbecue you.
“It’ll have to wait, either way. My parents are sending me on a job tonight.
And now that I’m under house arrest, getting away is going to be harder than normal. ”
“House arrest?”
Miles realized he’d never had the chance to tell Gabriel what had happened. They’d had to deal with Florence. He’d planned to break the news to Gabriel the next morning, but then Gabriel went and distracted him with his confession before disappearing.
“Yeah, I guess you missed that part.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Long story short, my parents found out about you. The police report from the car accident had your name on it, and when my mom confronted me, I kinda… made things worse. It got pretty ugly.”
Gabriel scoffed. “How could it not? Let me guess—my family are all evil and you shouldn’t taint yourself with our presence? She must’ve been relieved when you told her about my upcoming death.”
Shock stole Miles’s voice for a few moments. It had been a while since he’d heard Gabriel speak so cuttingly about his family or the feud—he barely sounded like himself.
He swallowed, sensing he was treading around hidden mines.
“I tried to tell her about the premonition, but she wouldn’t listen.
She’s not—” He knew his mom wasn’t spiteful enough to wish Gabriel dead, but this wasn’t the time to defend her.
“It doesn’t matter. The good thing is, I didn’t let it slip you’re going to school here.
But she’s watching my every move. The only reason I’m being let out of the house tonight is because they’re putting me to work. ”
“What’s the job?”
“Checking out a potentially haunted house over in Glenwood, which always takes forever.” Miles had to raise his voice to be heard as two boys with twin plastic swords walked by, arguing about skipping PE if it started raining.
“We’ll have to push the grimoire back until tomorrow night.
The only chance I’ll get to see you, aside from at school, is more sneaky late-night meetups.
” He might have to upgrade from tea to coffee with a schedule like that. Hey, sleep was for the weak, right?
Gabriel pondered this for a moment. “I’ll come with you.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. You’re going alone, correct? Bring the grimoire and I can start reading while you do your… investigating. Text me the address. I’ll have Edmund drive me over.”
He didn’t sound enthusiastic, but it wasn’t a bad idea. It might even be a good one. And, as a petty bonus, Miles’s mom would be pissed she’d unknowingly handed him an opportunity.
“Okay, but we’re reading it together.”
“I’m not an infant. I don’t need to be kept under constant surveillance.”
Miles snorted. “Of course not. It’s not like the last time you read it, you got all obsessive and creepy and nearly bit my hand off for touching it. I don’t trust you not to run off with it if I’m not watching you.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a jab at me for leaving, or for being susceptible to the grimoire’s influence.”
“Neither. I know you can’t help how that stupid book affects you. And I’m still too mad at you to make jokes about you running off.”
“Yes, I can tell you’re furious.”
Asshole. He’d deserve it if Miles kicked him in the ankle. “I’m being the bigger person. Don’t confuse that with a free pass.”
He expected one of his usual scathing retorts, but Gabriel just frowned and looked away.
“Are you pissed at me or something?” Miles blurted.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re acting all… weird. Like you’re holding a grudge because I talked you into not giving up, or that I came to find you.”
“You’re imagining things.”
Gabriel’s tone was so dismissive that Miles’s ears warmed. “Obviously I’m not. What’s going on? If you’re not mad, are you worried about your premonition? My death isn’t—”
“Why would I be worried?” Gabriel interrupted icily. “According to you, good intentions and the power of positive thinking are going to save the day.”
So that was a solid yes to him being pissed.
Miles felt like he’d tripped and fallen back through time, landing in a terrible place weeks ago where they could barely stand to talk to each other. There was no warmth or humor warming Gabriel’s gray eyes, no softness in the line of his shoulders or clench of his jaw.
“I’m worried too,” Miles told him quietly. The dark clouds gathering overhead looked ready to start pouring any moment now. “But we have to work together, and have each other’s backs, or we won’t—”
“I’m here and doing everything you’re asking of me,” Gabriel snapped. “Focusing on the curse instead of the killer, offering up my time to read the grimoire, letting you make all the decisions. What more do you want from me?”
Something twisted painfully in Miles’s chest, making it impossible to answer. He wanted things to go back to normal, to how they’d been before Gabriel had his premonition and ran away. He wanted Gabriel to take his hand and tell him why he was upset instead of lashing out.
Gabriel might’ve shown up, resigned to accept whatever course Miles set them on, but something was wrong.
What if it wasn’t about the curse, but about them?
Insecurity rose in Miles. He tried to shove the thought away, but it was too late—the little seed of doubt had been planted. They hadn’t talked about the cemetery, the kiss, what it all meant, and that was the only thing that had changed aside from Gabriel’s premonition.
Maybe he’d thought the kiss was terrible. Maybe it hadn’t meant the same thing to him. Or maybe he didn’t want to bother now that he thought Miles was a dead boy walking. Who would waste their time on someone like that?
Ouch.
Miles couldn’t make himself meet Gabriel’s eyes, knowing the hurt and embarrassment would be written all over his face. He should just ask, but the question refused to come out, settling with pricking spikes somewhere low in his throat.
Sighing, as if he was bored of the conversation, Gabriel stood and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I’m going inside before it starts raining.”
He didn’t invite Miles to come with him. Without a backward glance, he marched off towards the school, leaving Miles sitting alone as thunder rumbled threateningly overhead.