Death, Doom and Detention - Page 8/83

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” I said, offering him my best fake smile.

“I believe you saw someone.”

“Great. Thanks.”

After a quick glance, he asked, “What’s wrong with your stomach?”

I immediately let go of my midsection. “Nothing.”

He sighed at my terse responses and turned back to the forest. I realized this was my chance. If the Hardy Boys wouldn’t let me in on their secret, I’d try to glean it from Jared for myself.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I stepped over to him and put my hand on his arm. The touch was electric, but not because of anything extrasensory. I was touching him again for the first time in weeks. And I’d surprised him. He looked down at my hand; then his shimmering eyes locked with mine. He stepped closer, and I sucked in a soft breath.

His head descended until his mouth, full and sensual, was almost on mine, and he said, “Are you getting anything?”

I sobered instantly and jerked my hand away. “Of course not.” I couldn’t help the defensive tone in my voice. “I stopped having visions.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his mouth together in doubt. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” I tightened my jacket around me and turned my attention to Brooke and Cameron.

“Do you think the world has gotten a bit dark and fuzzy around the edges?” Brooke asked when Cameron closed his tailgate.

“It looks pretty sunny to me.”

“No,” she said, waving a hand absently, “I mean in general. Like there’s something wrong. Something waiting.”

Not even I could miss the silent exchange that time. He glanced at Jared and they held gazes for a second too long before he shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said, her voice accusing.

I had to admit, I was getting exasperated with their furtive behavior myself.

He pulled on his jacket, his brows raised in question.

“Cut it out and just tell us what’s going on.”

After fidgeting with the zipper, he gave up the charade with a heavy sigh. “They’re gone.” He scanned the area, deep in thought. “The spiritual elements in this area are gone.”

Jared stepped away from me and turned back to the forest, his shoulders straight, his body tense.

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked.

I wrapped my arms around my midsection again. This was bad. I could tell. Though I had no idea what he meant either, I knew it was bad. It had to be if it set the Angel of Death and a bona fide nephilim on edge.

“Like ghosts? Poltergeists?” she asked.

They started walking back to the gym. I followed at a slower pace, wanting to hear but not wanting to know. This was not part of my plan to get back to normal. Anything having to do with spiritual elements was not normal. Normal people talked about homework, the opposite sex, plans for the weekend. They did not talk about the spiritual elements in the area like they were discussing the weather.

Jared brought up the rear.

“Exactly,” Cameron said with a nod.

“What do you mean, they’re gone? Why are they gone?”

“You know how rats leave a sinking ship? That would be my guess.”

She stopped and ogled him. “So, all the ghosts left because this ship is sinking?”

He lifted one shoulder into another halfhearted shrug. “Something like that.”

“Riley’s Switch,” I said, joining the conversation at last. “Riley’s Switch is a sinking ship, and they know it.”

The moment I said it, the minute the words left my mouth, another ripple of movement shuddered inside me. Every cell from my chin to my knees reverberated like a low chord had been strummed. I tightened my hold, calming the beast within. And wondering, why now? After ten years, why awaken now?

Jared reached for me. He grabbed my arms and looked me up and down, his expression shocked. Did he feel it too? Did he know?

I jerked out of his grasp and said, “Don’t look at me like that.” Then, like a silly schoolgirl with hurt feelings—which was true on both counts—I stalked back to the gym without them.

* * *

I headed straight for the toilets. Most of the other girls, including Tabitha, were already dressed. The bell would ring in a couple of minutes, and I still had on gym shorts and a hoodie. But being tardy to my next class was the least of my worries. I crashed through a stall door and fell to my knees, heaving into the toilet. But I had yet to eat that day. Partaking in breakfast would have required some alone time with my grandparents, and I avoided that scenario as much as possible lately. So, I heaved several times to no avail. Still, that was better than upchucking actual content.

I stood and weaved toward a sink, my legs weak, my footing unsure, as one girl eyed me like I’d grown another head and a couple of others asked if I was okay. I nodded and proceeded to splash cold water on my face, groaning when the bell rang. No way would I not be late to my next class now.

“Are you okay?” Brooklyn asked, rushing in.

“Yes, but the bell rang. We need to hurry.”

“Lor, what’s wrong?”

I patted my face dry with a paper towel. “Nothing. We’re going to be late is all.”

She didn’t believe me. I figured that out when she said, “I don’t believe you, and we are going to have a very long talk, Lorelei McAlister.”