Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I give Leo a sideways look. I’m not entirely sure what Ryder is trying to tell us.
“Yeah,” I say anyway, trying not to sound as confused as I feel.
“I’ll let you know if there are any updates,” Ryder says. “And be careful. Whatever she has, you can catch it. You’ve been exposed.”
“Thanks, man,” Leo says. The call ends. “What the hell was he saying?” Leo asks quietly. “Marco is behind this?”
“That’s kind of what I got from it.”
“I’m with you,” Leo says. “We should do the locator spell, find Claire, and get the hell out of here.” He looks at my backpack. “You have everything you need?”
“I do.” I lower my voice. “We just need somewhere private. An alley. A bathroom. Something. I only need a couple minutes.”
“And it’ll give you her exact location?”
“Where she is right now. It won’t track her if she starts moving again.”
“Right.” Leo leans back. “She’s seventeen, doesn’t have a car, and doesn’t exactly seem to know what she’s doing. If we can get her current location, I’m pretty sure we can catch up to her.” He looks toward Antonio. “Which is why I’m going to tell him we’re doing it.”
I take one last drink of my lukewarm coffee and toss the cup into the trash beside the table. As I turn back, something catches my eye. Two guys wearing Steelers jerseys are sitting several tables away. One has an iced coffee in front of him. The cup is still completely full. But condensation coats the plastic, and most of the ice has melted.
He hasn’t touched it.
He’s not here for coffee. He’s here to watch me. I walk casually back toward the table and text both of my brothers, praying they have enough self-control not to immediately look over. Antonio is still waiting in line when he replies.
Wren, go first. Leo and I will stay here. If you’re going to do the spell, do it now.
My gaze shifts toward the bathroom at the back of the coffee shop. I haven’t been inside yet, but it looks like a single-stall bathroom. Someone opens the door. For a split second, I catch a flash of daylight. Perfect. There’s a window.
Going out the bathroom window. I’ll do the spell and send you a picture as soon as I have her location.
I put a hand over my stomach.
“I knew I shouldn’t have had that much caffeine when I’m lactose intolerant,” I say loudly to Leo.
He nods solemnly. “Rookie mistake.”
I grab my backpack and head toward the bathroom. I don’t bother locking the door behind me.
Instead, I go straight to the window. It looks like it hasn’t been opened in years. There’s no chance I’m getting it up with brute strength. Good thing I don’t need brute strength. I step back and shove it open telekinetically. The frame groans. I pop the screen loose and look down.
Of course. There’s a dumpster directly beneath the window. And naturally, the lid is wide open.
“Thank God for magic,” I mutter. I close the dumpster telekinetically, then climb through the window and carefully lower myself down. Once my feet hit the lid, I jump to the pavement and hurry farther into the alley. I find a relatively hidden spot that smells terrible but gives me enough room to work. My mind flashes briefly to Devon as I pull everything from my backpack.
I’ve done this spell enough lately that I practically have it memorized, but having him around to help set everything up has been nice. I spread out the map. Then I take the vial of Claire’s blood. My heart pounds as I carefully add a single drop to the spell. I begin the chant. The herbs scattered across the paper tremble. Slowly, they move and gather into a tiny circle on the map. I stare at it.
Claire.
She’s only a few blocks away. “Holy shit.” I take a picture before anything can shift.
I wait another second. The herbs stay exactly where they are. Claire isn’t moving. I grab the map, shake the herbs back into my bag, and text the picture to Leo and Antonio. Hopefully, they can create enough of a distraction to get away from the hunters inside. I make it back to the sidewalk and stop at the corner, waiting to cross.
The second I step into the crosswalk, someone rushes toward me.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Stop!”
I turn. A police officer is running toward me. Either he’s Order in disguise or the Order somehow convinced local police to bring me in. Neither option is particularly good.
Claire is too close.
I run across the street and dart between two buildings.
As soon as I’m out of the general public’s view, I stop and raise my hands.
If this guy is a real cop, he’ll follow procedure.
“Florence Malus,” he says, breathing hard as he catches up. “You’re under arrest. Turn around slowly and put your hands on your head.”