Chapter 20 #2
“I didn’t actually think it would work,” she said, rubbing at it again. “Now I don’t really know what to do with myself.”
“What do you want to do?”
Ellory considered and discarded several answers to that question.
She wanted justice for Malcolm Mayhew, whose name history had already forgotten.
She wanted to know what she’d lost, what had compelled her to tattoo herself in a fruitless attempt to remember.
She wanted to use magic for some sort of good, even if she had no idea where to start.
“I want to show you,” she decided. “I have work soon, but maybe tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She heard the rustle of papers, the light notes of some R & B song in the background. “I’ve devoted more than enough of my time to this endeavor lately. God forbid my grades begin to slip.”
Ellory blinked. “You asked to do this with me.”
“And now I’m asking that you leave me out of this. You’re more than capable of handling things, especially considering how much you love to run off on your own.”
Her mouth worked, but no words sprung forth.
The night’s darkness stalked close as she thought of that man who had led her to safety with his arm around her shoulders, his body shielding her from a labyrinthine forest. The man who had softly promised to learn all he could about the Old Masters, all because they might have threatened her.
The man who had listened to her accuse his childhood friend of subterfuge and come up with a plan for her to further investigate.
Realization sliced through her like a hot knife through butter. “You’re afraid.”
Hudson fell silent. Red-orange circles illuminated the night.
A trio of students hovered near the side of the Graves, passing lit cigarettes back and forth despite the crisp air.
Others traveled in packs around the quad, the occasional burst of laughter crackling through the air.
Behind her, the library was still, but she could feel the miasma of stress that seemed to permeate the building.
Every sweating student was a sacrifice to its academic altar.
“I suppose questioning everything is a good trait in a lawyer,” Hudson finally said, and he sounded almost bored. “What conspiracy have you centered me in now?”
Ellory put some distance between herself and the Graves, narrowing her focus to the man whose family had paid for it. “You found something in your research that scared you, didn’t you? That’s why you want to distance yourself.”
“Wanting to focus on school while attending a school is a symptom of terror? Fascinating.”
Her cheeks heated. “Who are you protecting, Graves? Is it Boone? Or is it the Old Masters themselves?”
“Oh, please.” Hudson made a frustrated sound. “Every odd thing that’s happened since the start of the school year has somehow involved you, yet you claim I’m keeping things from you? You don’t even involve me until after the fact.”
Ellory’s fingers tightened around the phone.
He was right, and she knew he was right, but he was also being incredibly infantilizing.
Her instincts were shrieking that something was wrong, and she was more inclined to trust them than to trust him.
Even after this school year had made her question everything she thought she knew about herself and her world, she could still recognize a diversion.
“I know you’re lying to me. I don’t know about what, but I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to figure all of it out.”
“It seems you have everything well in hand, then,” Hudson deadpanned. “Good luck with that.”
Click.
Ellory stared down at the blank screen of her phone for a full thirty seconds before it sank in that Hudson had hung up on her.
Affronted, she called him back and left a voicemail that would surely get her arrested but felt good in the moment, all four-letter words and passionate speculation about his place in whatever version of hell existed.
She was breathing hard by the time she wedged her phone back into her pocket, nearly dropping it twice in her haste, and only the fact that Hudson would absolutely call the police on her—and be justified in doing so—if she turned up at his house kept her rooted in place.
Well, that and the fact that her shift began in twenty minutes, and she needed money more than she needed to throttle him.
“Admittedly,” said a familiar voice from behind her, “this explains so much and nothing at all.”
Ellory turned with her heart in her throat. Tai stood in the tombstone of light that stretched from the door of the library, her arms folded. A canvas bag stuffed with books rested against her hip. Her eyebrows were almost one with her hair. Whatever she saw in Ellory’s expression made her smile.
“Yes, I heard everything. It seems we have some catching up to do, but I know you’ve got work,” Tai continued. She marched forward, looped her arm around Ellory’s, and tugged her in the direction of the bus stop. “Let’s talk over coffee.”