drones on about the yearbook committee’s desperate call for members, while Bianca stage-whispers in the back of the class to a rapt crowd about the annual
HallowSCREAM!
party she’s throwing the weekend before Halloween (she whispers especially loud so I’ll knowwhat I’m missing out on by not being invited). To make matters worse, I keep catching Paige’s transfer-student friend Jessie Colburn staring at me. Even when I’m not looking at her, I can feel her eyes following me like the freaking
Mona Lisa
. I decide now’s as good a time as any to get the violin.
I raise my hand.
Mrs. Davies pauses reluctantly. “Yes, Ms. Blackwood?”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Do you ever,” Bianca says, and the class erupts into laughter.
I cut her a glare.
“Bianca Cavanaugh,” Mrs. Davies says, tsking, then turns to me. “Yes, go ahead, Indigo.”
I snag one of the orange lanyard hall passes from her desk on my way out.
“Not too long!” Davies calls after me.
My shoes squeak loudly in the hall, the sound echoing off the army green lockers. It’s empty now, but that could change at any moment. I make a beeline toward Paige’s locker and say a silent thank-you for the MUSIC NERDS RULE! sticker she’s got plastered across the front—I won’t have to waste my time breaking into the wrong locker. I do a quick shoulder check to make sure a teacher isn’t lurking in the hallway, and then take the combination lock into my hands.
I close my eyes and call out to the heat. It responds with a flash of warmth that spreads like fireworks up my body. I whisper the Latin word for “open.”
“Aperi, aperi, aperi.”
The lock clicks heavily in my hands, and a satisfied smile blooms across my face.
“What’s going on?”
I gasp, spinning around to find Jessie with her arms crossed over her chest, an orange hall pass slung around her neck.
Dammit to hell.
“I—I was just…”
“That’s Paige’s locker,” she says.
Heat courses to my cheeks. “I know that. I was…getting something for her.”
She arches an eyebrow, challenging me. Could she have seen me do my little trick?
I push my shoulders back. “She gave me her combination.”
She looks down at my hands, I guess to confirm I’m not hiding a hacksaw up my sleeve. “So then why’d you sneak out to do it?”
“Who says I snuck out? I had to use the bathroom, then I remembered the thing Paige wanted and dropped by here.”
We engage in a staring contest for a few seconds, before Jessie gestures to the locker as if giving me permission to open it.
I pull the metal door open, and have to stop myself from crying out with relief when I see the black violin case propped up on a stack of books.
“There it is,” I say, pulling out the case.
“She went to music school without her violin?” Jessie asks.
Crap.
“Yep. Funny, huh? She was in a really big hurry, and school was closed when she left. I’m giving it to Mrs. Abernathy so she can send it to Paige.”
Jessie stares at me while I hike the case onto my back.
“Well,” I say. “Love to chat, but I need to get back to class.”
I paste on a smile, then make a quick escape down the hallway. I don’t know how I’m going to explain the violin to Mrs. Davies, but in the grand scheme of my problems, it doesn’t even rate.
4
T he bell above the door jangles as I enter the Black Cat. I expected to be sad coming to Mom’s beloved occult shop after so long away, but it’s so much worse than that: walking inside strikes me like a baseball bat straight to the gut. If Aunt Penny wasn’t ringing up some goth kid at the till, I might lunge at her.
The big oak bookcase that took up the entire back wall until the night
The Witch Hunter’s Bible
was stolen and the bookcase destroyed has been replaced with a new, more modern dark wood shelf. It’s still filled with the same explosion of occult books, but Aunt Penny has them all stacked perfectly instead of in the pattern Mom
HallowSCREAM!
party she’s throwing the weekend before Halloween (she whispers especially loud so I’ll knowwhat I’m missing out on by not being invited). To make matters worse, I keep catching Paige’s transfer-student friend Jessie Colburn staring at me. Even when I’m not looking at her, I can feel her eyes following me like the freaking
Mona Lisa
. I decide now’s as good a time as any to get the violin.
I raise my hand.
Mrs. Davies pauses reluctantly. “Yes, Ms. Blackwood?”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Do you ever,” Bianca says, and the class erupts into laughter.
I cut her a glare.
“Bianca Cavanaugh,” Mrs. Davies says, tsking, then turns to me. “Yes, go ahead, Indigo.”
I snag one of the orange lanyard hall passes from her desk on my way out.
“Not too long!” Davies calls after me.
My shoes squeak loudly in the hall, the sound echoing off the army green lockers. It’s empty now, but that could change at any moment. I make a beeline toward Paige’s locker and say a silent thank-you for the MUSIC NERDS RULE! sticker she’s got plastered across the front—I won’t have to waste my time breaking into the wrong locker. I do a quick shoulder check to make sure a teacher isn’t lurking in the hallway, and then take the combination lock into my hands.
I close my eyes and call out to the heat. It responds with a flash of warmth that spreads like fireworks up my body. I whisper the Latin word for “open.”
“Aperi, aperi, aperi.”
The lock clicks heavily in my hands, and a satisfied smile blooms across my face.
“What’s going on?”
I gasp, spinning around to find Jessie with her arms crossed over her chest, an orange hall pass slung around her neck.
Dammit to hell.
“I—I was just…”
“That’s Paige’s locker,” she says.
Heat courses to my cheeks. “I know that. I was…getting something for her.”
She arches an eyebrow, challenging me. Could she have seen me do my little trick?
I push my shoulders back. “She gave me her combination.”
She looks down at my hands, I guess to confirm I’m not hiding a hacksaw up my sleeve. “So then why’d you sneak out to do it?”
“Who says I snuck out? I had to use the bathroom, then I remembered the thing Paige wanted and dropped by here.”
We engage in a staring contest for a few seconds, before Jessie gestures to the locker as if giving me permission to open it.
I pull the metal door open, and have to stop myself from crying out with relief when I see the black violin case propped up on a stack of books.
“There it is,” I say, pulling out the case.
“She went to music school without her violin?” Jessie asks.
Crap.
“Yep. Funny, huh? She was in a really big hurry, and school was closed when she left. I’m giving it to Mrs. Abernathy so she can send it to Paige.”
Jessie stares at me while I hike the case onto my back.
“Well,” I say. “Love to chat, but I need to get back to class.”
I paste on a smile, then make a quick escape down the hallway. I don’t know how I’m going to explain the violin to Mrs. Davies, but in the grand scheme of my problems, it doesn’t even rate.
4
T he bell above the door jangles as I enter the Black Cat. I expected to be sad coming to Mom’s beloved occult shop after so long away, but it’s so much worse than that: walking inside strikes me like a baseball bat straight to the gut. If Aunt Penny wasn’t ringing up some goth kid at the till, I might lunge at her.
The big oak bookcase that took up the entire back wall until the night
The Witch Hunter’s Bible
was stolen and the bookcase destroyed has been replaced with a new, more modern dark wood shelf. It’s still filled with the same explosion of occult books, but Aunt Penny has them all stacked perfectly instead of in the pattern Mom
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