Verlaine bit her lip. “What’s going to happen?”

After a long silence, Nadia said, “I can’t say for sure. But some spells—the darkest spells, those that serve the One Beneath—they require more than magic. They require blood.”

“Halloween,” Verlaine said. “That was—two months from when you did the fortune-telling spell.”

“Exactly.”

It’s like a target, Verlaine thought as she looked at the map. And we’re in the bull’s-eye.

12

AT FIRST NADIA THOUGHT THEY’D WORK IT OUT AT school.

Mateo had to show up for classes, and they shared chemistry together, so meeting up was inevitable. He’d be furious for a few days, but sooner or later he’d want to talk this out—right?

But he cut class the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

When the Piranha marked down that third absence, she quipped, “Looks like Mr. Perez is dying to repeat his senior year.”

Unable to resist any longer, Nadia raised her hand. “What about Elizabeth Pike?”

The Piranha frowned, genuinely confused. “What about her?”

“She’s out, too.” Just like she had been ever since that last confrontation they’d had in the hallway—a week now? More? Nadia found it difficult to remember, for some reason.

For a moment the Piranha thought about that, dismay creeping over her face … but then her eyes went kind of misty as she smiled. “Elizabeth’s absence is excused. Her parents sent a note. And maybe you should mind your own business, Miss Caldani.”

People giggled. Kendall glanced over her shoulder and muttered, “How come you’re telling on people?”

“I was just mentioning it.” Nadia tucked her hair behind her ear. She could feel her cheeks flushing hot.

Jeremy leaned across their shared lab table. He was a tall guy—lean and lithe—with sharp cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass, tawny skin, and dark curly hair that was as long as it could be and still look great instead of messy. All at once she totally got how this guy could get to Verlaine … if you only ever saw him at a distance, wow…

Then he said, “God, you’re a tight ass.” Grinning, he added, “I like a tight ass on a girl.”

“Too bad for you I don’t like slime on a guy.”

His black eyes glinted with anger—real anger—but he just turned away from her to surreptitiously text someone. Even from where she sat, Nadia could read the words stuck-up bitch.

Nadia wondered whether there really were spells for turning men into toads. Probably not. But thinking about it helped.

“Maybe we should go check on him,” Verlaine suggested after school.

Nadia shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“But why are you assuming he’s cutting class? I mean, Elizabeth could have confronted him—or he could have confronted her—and he could be, I don’t know, a hostage in her house. Imprisoned!” In her mind, Verlaine saw this scenario as something suspiciously Disneyesque—Mateo seemed to be wearing a cape, even—but there was a black cave and bars over the windows and plenty of scarier elements that seemed totally like they might be Elizabeth’s modus operandi.