Chapter 22 #2
I shrug, not quite understanding where all this is leading, but I trust Alice.
And if our coven trusts Dr. Waterhouse, I trust her too.
I’m here to flesh out information that Alice doesn’t have so she can use her big brain to puzzle all of this out.
“Old timers used to assume it was Faerie itself. Caden could tell you the particulars of why that theory fell out of favor, but more recent experts like Dr. Waterhouse think maybe it comes from someplace between our realms.”
Alice’s head bends over the notebook, her mouth twisting up in concentration as she scans through the pages, turning back to previous sections occasionally, then skipping ahead as she nods—to herself or to the book, I’m not certain.
“Waterhouse thinks there’s a leak—leaks, plural—in wherever that place is.
Wherever the energy we call magic comes from, she thinks it’s bursting at the seams.”
“Is that all?” I laugh, wry and frustrated. It’s always something with this job. “What’s that have to do with the Hunt?”
Alice shakes her head. “She doesn’t say it here, but…” Her face scrunches up again. “We call Them the Hunt for a reason. What are They hunting?”
I lean back in my chair, staring at a fairly recent water stain on the professor’s ceiling.
That can’t be good for the plaster. “Well, if Dr. Waterhouse is right, they’re hunting witches, and some of Their own kind.
” I see the connections a little clearer now, but not much is certain.
“Like the redcaps, and the way the hellhounds spoke to Caden.”
Alice closes the notebook, placing it carefully back on Dr. Waterhouse’s stack. She glances at the tea tray, and then the door. “Cover me, okay?”
She’s gonna take a peek at those notes. That’s probably a little rude, but this is an investigation, after all, not a social call. I nod, getting up to lean against the door. There’s no warding on the top of the professor’s desk to stop Alice from snooping.
“Stay out of her bottom left drawer,” I caution as I cover the door. “She’s got it spelled to set off the fire alarm if anyone other than her fusses with it.”
Alice stares at me for a second. “You can see that?”
I nod. “Lots of hedgeriders have a touch of the Sight. Comes in handy.”
She doesn’t remark on that comment, but nods, lifting the tea tray. Her eyes move quickly over the pages of notes underneath, then she sets the tray back down in exactly the same spot it was in when she lifted it.
“She’s doing some kind of ritual to honor the dead on Halloween,” Alice says, pulling a little notebook out of her pocket and jotting something down.
“You gonna join her?” I ask with a smile.
Alice smiles back at me. “Nope. That’s not what I was interested in. She made a note in one of the margins—everything else is well organized. It’s basically a recipe and a grocery list, all written in the same pen.”
She lowers her voice to a volume barely above a whisper as she comes over to me, placing her hands on my chest and leaning in real close. “But on the bottom of that second page, she scribbled something down fast, in pencil.”
She beams up at me, like I’m gonna give her a gold star.
I tip her chin up with my fingers, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her against me.
We’ve barely been alone since Sunday dinner, and while I could sneak into my old room at night, it doesn’t feel like we’re there quite yet.
But here, alone in the professor’s office? I’m not above a little hanky-panky.
But before I give her a gold star, I need to ask what she saw. “You gonna tell me what she wrote down or not?”
Alice’s eyebrows go up in surprise, like she’s already forgotten. “Oh, it says ‘Silverwood Springs.’ Ring any bells?”
“Not a one,” I breathe, my voice going rough as she leans harder into me. I press my hand into the small of her back, feeling the soft curves of her long body melt into me.
She leaps up on her tiptoes to kiss me, her arms twining around my neck. Heat spreads through me, and I want her out of here, into the truck, where we can make out like feral teenagers. She moans in my mouth as my hand slides up under her sweater, meeting bare skin.
A little higher, and I get the treat of knowing that she’s only wearing one of those silky little bralette things.
I pull on the back of it, and she gasps, wrapping one leg around my thigh, tugging me between her legs as I pull her harder against me, deepening the kiss that’s turned feverish and desperate in a matter of moments.
Footsteps in the hall have us jumping apart, both of us red in the face. But they pass and we both laugh, though I don’t think either of us is quite ready to abandon the moment.
Alice checks her watch. “We told Fallon we’d be home in an hour. Do you think the professor is coming back?”
The way she says “home” is like a punch in the gut. I want her to stay so godsdamn bad, I fear I’ll be ill if she goes. “No, probably not.”
A little smile—one of those that I recognize means she wants to get into some kind of trouble—spreads over Alice’s face.
“Then by my count, we have at least a half-hour to fool around in the truck.” In an instant, she’s got her fingers wound through mine.
“What do you say? Up for a little action in the truck?”
“Yes,” I agree. “Fuck yes.”
I open the door, and as we step into the hallway, the same student from before pops out of a room down the hall, covered in some kind of disgusting-smelling goo. “Mr. Hayes?” they shout. “They weren’t bluecaps, and they’re angry. Can you help?”
I glance down at Alice, shaking my head. “I’m gonna deal with this fast.” My hand slides down to her ass as I bend toward her ear. “I promise not to come back covered in whatever that is.”
“Stay horny,” she whispers, grabbing my ass right back.
As if I had any other choice.