22. THE BLACK CAT #2
“Oakley could’ve been killed because she was a target out in the open,” Embry continued in a vicious whisper.
“And I was an easy mark for blame, because what do hunters do? They stalk their prey. They learn about their lives, their patterns, and look for their openings. They found one on Friday night rolled up nicely with a cover story.”
“So we research any known activity in the illegal vampire hunting space,” Rye said, plunking his phone onto the table.
After a few taps, a new digital version of the list he’d written out on the legal pad popped up in Rye’s Notes app.
He added both vampire hunter and random psychopath under the names they’d started with.
“I hate that list. It’s so weak.” Embry took a sad gulp of her latte.
It was already dregs and ice. Discarding her cup, she dropped her head into her palms. She wedged the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, vaguely hoping that, with enough pressure, she’d blink into a new, far less terrible reality.
“We’ve reached the pit of despair already,” interrupted a new voice with a sigh. “Babe, get her more caffeine, stat.”
Embry forced herself to sit up. And, blinking through plenty of deep eggplant spots in her vision, homed in on Ames just as the girl’s strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and her thigh tapped hers as she slid into the booth.
“Hey, Em.”
“You came,” Embry said.
“How’d you know we were here?” Rye asked.
“I scried her a message when I went to the restroom,” Embry answered.
Rye nodded. “No paper trail. Genius.”
“Why, thank you, it was my idea,” Ames answered.
“Glad this one listened.” She knocked Embry’s shoulders.
“Now, get us up to speed. We have approximately thirty-seven minutes before we need to hightail it to class. Don’t worry, Em—that A average won’t dip in the slightest. I’m picking up all the missed work for you in our shared classes. ”
“You are a goddess if not the Goddess.”
Ames beamed—a tough feat with her own wear and tear from last night in the form of her brown skin being near-jaundiced underneath her expertly applied makeup.
A side effect of heavy magical output, as obvious as any bruise.
She hadn’t been hurt, but she’d been drained during the fight.
Still, Ames fluffed the ends of her tight black curls. “Thank you for noticing.”
In turns, Embry and Rye explained what they’d done so far, their story picking up momentum as soon as Fairfax dropped into the seat next to Rye with a second round of coffee for them, and the first for himself and Ames.
“We’ll figure out who’s dropped out,” Ames said, already texting, looking for info. “And if we can get more than just the name, we will.”
“We said we’d be your boots on the ground, and we plan to be your boots on the ground,” Fairfax asserted, with a little two-fingered salute from one temple.
Embry had the best friends. “Honestly, anything you can learn from the inside at Raven’s Head while we’re searching the outside would be fantastic.”
“Agreed.” Rye nodded, running a hand through his sandy mop.
It bounced back even more disheveled than before.
It truly was amazing that his hair could look that good that messy, and with no magical manipulation.
“And what about digitally? Can either or both of you be on the lookout for more video from Friday or anything else that might be useful in proving Embry didn’t go after Oakley? ”
“Sure thing,” Ames replied.
“And find out if Skye took that video herself?” Embry added. “She was supposed to be on the field when it was happening.”
“I can do that,” Fairfax announced. “No problem.”
For once, Ames didn’t sneer at his close relationship with the werewolf—either because it was a benefit here or because she was picking her battles.
“Oh, and keys to the drama department—if there’s any way you can spot a list of who might have access to one, that would be helpful.”
Ames added that to her mental list. “Are we scrying you our finds?”
Embry considered this. “I think we”—here, she nodded across the table at Rye—“might not necessarily be near a mirror, depending on what we do next. And… I know Dr. Goldman is at my house with Daddy. There might be others there, too.” Up until the push to delay her Ascension, Embry would’ve trusted any coven member with her life.
Now she wasn’t totally sure one of them wouldn’t relay to Inspector Brown anything they deemed suspicious.
“I don’t think anyone would poke around in my room and read any messages written on my bathroom mirror, but I also didn’t think I’d be a murder suspect a week ago, so, you know, no chances. ”
Embry’s instinct was to trust only the people sitting right here (and Daddy).
Rye cleared his throat. “Good thing I have a house next door with at least one mirror, and no one will be poking around, checking on me.” He didn’t mean it as something sad, but Embry’s heart tugged all the same.
The orphan boy, living alone, with no one giving a care in the world.
He was right—the only person who would check on him was Daddy, and he was magically comatose while healing up from life-threatening injuries.
“Think you can send your findings to my place instead of Embry’s? ”
“That I can do.” Ames peered at her BFF. “Em, you comfortable with that?”
Embry nodded. “Works for me.”
“Good. We’ll check in as soon as we—” Ames’s phone buzzed in her hand just as she was in the middle of slinging an arm around Embry’s shoulders.
Ames tapped at the lock screen, the start of a message popping up.
Her narrowed eyes growing wider, Ames aborted the hug and swiped furiously at the screen with both hands. “Oh shit—we have the dropout name.”
Her brown eyes rose to Embry, her perfectly glossed mouth a slack ring. She swallowed, drew in a steadying breath. “It’s Alistair. Porters came for his stuff right after we got here. Went home to his mothers.”
Panic rose like ashes from Embry’s gut as she tried to process this news. “Alistair dropped out?”
Did he think he was no longer safe at school? Was he afraid of retaliation? From her?
“Without even so much as a text?” Fairfax asked, fumbling with his own phone and finding nothing there. “Ghosted us. Ass.”
Rye tipped his head back against the tall wall of the booth and rubbed a hand down his face, the sandy stubble on his jaw rustling like the spiky side of Velcro. “I would wager his parents consulted an attorney and were told to pull him out of school and confiscate his phone.”
The whole table stilled, thinking it through. That was likely exactly what happened.
Then, with a sigh, Ames again slung an arm around Embry’s shoulders, but this time leaned in and pressed a kiss to the other girl’s temple. “Well, on that note… stay strong, Em. The Innocence Brigade is on it. We’ve got you.”
Embry’s throat constricted. The tears were threatening again. “You’re the best.”
Ames gave her another squeeze. “I know.” She reached again for her usual confidence, but this time fell even shorter than before, a tremor there. Embry’s adoration for Ames made her fragile heart leap. “Come on, babe. Time to go undercover.”
“We’re about as under-the-radar as an atomic bomb.” Fairfax gestured heavily at Embry. “Everyone knows where our loyalties lie.”
“Babe, that wasn’t exactly the vote of confidence I wanted to leave Em with.” Ames’s nostrils flared as she slid out of her seat. She reached down and hauled her boyfriend out of the booth before doubling down on her promise. “We’ve got this, Em. Don’t worry.”
And with that, they were gone.
Rye inspected his second coffee mug. “He’s not wrong. We’ll be lucky if anyone associated with the guilty party says a single word within earshot of either of them.”
“And if a blabbermouth automatically clams up, that’ll tell us something, too.”
Rye smirked over the rim of his mug. “Very perceptive.”
“You know I am.”
“I do.”