Chapter Forty-One Rug Rage
“What should we do?” Eva hisses at me.
“Not a lot we can do,” I say, even as I avoid making eye contact with him. No need to rile the jerk up, and maybe if we don’t pay any attention to him, he won’t pay any attention to us…or the not-so-subtle tapestry we’re carrying.
The wind is bad enough that we’re all having to hunch forward against it, and I think maybe we’ll actually have a chance to get through this without attracting his attention.
It almost works, too. But just as we’re about to pass him, Jean-Claude steps in front of me.
“Where did you get that?” he demands, and when I look up at him, he looks pissed off but also totally freaked out. Then again, that could just be the rain—it’s frizzed out his green curls to the point that he looks like he’s wearing a whole chia pet on his head under his poncho.
My stomach drops a little—so much for the hope that he wouldn’t recognize the tapestry.
Not to mention any small thought I might have had about them not all being involved in whatever goes on in that root cellar just went right out the window.
But what exactly is going on?
The minute Jude told me to stay away, I was suspicious. But when we found the padlock, I was certain I’d stumbled on something I shouldn’t have. Now, looking at the fear in Jean-Claude’s eyes, I’m more convinced than ever that something not okay has been happening in that root cellar.
But what? And what does Jude have to do with it? He’s not exactly the joining type and never has been. So what is he doing with the Jean-Jerks of all people, when he’s never given any indication that he has anything but contempt for them?
It doesn’t make sense.
Then again, neither does a tapestry that changes at will, so we’re all dealing with a brave new world here.
When I don’t immediately answer him, Eva jumps in. “This?” she asks, acting surprised. “Clementine’s mom asked us to retrieve it from her office. Apparently, it’s been hanging there for as long as Calder Academy’s been around. She didn’t want to leave it, in case the hurricane is as bad as they think it will be.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously as they dart back and forth between us. “You’re telling me you got that from the headmaster’s office?”
“We did.” I back Eva up. “It’s my mom’s favorite.”
“Oh, yeah?” He leans forward, but I’m not sure if he’s trying to be menacing or just brace against the wind. “What’s on it?”
At the moment? I have absolutely no idea. It could be anything. But since that’s exactly what I don’t want to tell him, I do the only thing I can think of. I make something up.
“A manticore. Like a lot of manticores.” Eva looks at me like I’m very confused, but I keep bumbling around, trying to sell my absolutely ridiculous story. “Like a family portrait type rug thing that’s totally an heirloom.”
“A family portrait rug?” he repeats. “That has a bunch of manticores on it?”
“Absolutely,” I tell him. And somehow, I even manage to keep a straight face.
“You know, I’ve been in your mom’s office a bunch of times. I’ve never seen anything like that in there.”
“Well, it’s not like she keeps it out for public display,” I bluster. “Obviously. It’s personal.”
“Oh, really? It’s personal?” Now he really does sound menacing, even before he takes a step forward. “Let me see it.”
“Excuse me?” I act a lot more offended than I feel. “No!”
“What do you mean no?” He looks like he’s never heard the word before, which to be fair, maybe he hasn’t. The fae mafia tend to get whatever they want, whenever they want it.
“I mean, which part of ‘personal’ do you not understand? I’m not going to show you my family’s personal, private heirloom,” I snap. “And if you’ve got a problem with that, then it’s too damn bad.”
This time, I’m the one who advances on him. “Now get out of my way. I’m sick and tired of being in this rain.”
He backs up a couple of steps, but he doesn’t clear the way. And when I move to go around him, he moves with me, blocking my path. And while a part of me wants nothing more than to kick him in the balls, I also know that if I don’t play this right, the incoming storm will be the least of my problems.
At the same time, there is no way I can let him see this tapestry. Jean-Claude has already proven he has no trouble beating up girls—the asshole has given me more than a few bruises through the years. No way am I about to let him do the same to Eva.
“I’ll get out of your way as soon as you let me look at that manticore rug of yours,” he tells me, arms crossed and snide look on his face.
“I already told you that’s not going to happen. And I have no idea what makes you think you have the right to order me to do anything, especially with something that is obviously school property.”
This time when I step forward, I knock him in the shoulder with my own. And then I keep going, keep moving forward until he has no choice but to step back or push back. Thankfully, he’s not nearly as brave alone as he is when the other Jean-Jerks are around, and he steps back. At first, it’s just a couple of steps, but then it’s several, and now I know I’ve won—whether he’s willing to acknowledge it or not.
And while I can see him psyching himself up to push me back—literally and figuratively—for once, the storm comes to our rescue. Lightning shoots through the sky, slamming into a tree that’s much too close to us for comfort as thunder shakes the ground beneath our feet.
Seconds later, an ominous crack sounds, and a huge branch comes crashing down.
I throw myself at Eva, knocking her out of the way just in time to keep the heavy branch from falling on her.
She’s okay—we all are—but in the middle of being knocked sideways by me, Eva loses her grip on the tapestry.
It flies through the air before crashing to the ground and unrolling, right at Jean-Claude’s feet.