“Thanks,” I say with what I hope is an apologetic smile. By the time I pull out my phone, the call is lost. Instead, I have a series of missed texts from Veronica. “Ugh.”
“Bad news?”
“The previously mentioned ex-who-doesn’t-want-to-let-go. She’s blowing up my phone.” I ignore her texts without reading them and place the phone facedown on the table. “Did you have the same problem with your ex?”
Morgan fusses with her ring again, spinning it round and round. “Mine was more the show-up-at-my-house-at-all-hours type.”
“Yikes.” Though I’m sure it doesn’t compare to the fear she went through, I shiver remembering theYOU’RE NEXTnote that came flying through my window yesterday.
“Yeah. It was honestly kind of terrifying.” Morgan shakes her head as if she’s trying to disperse the memory. “I’m half-convinced Dad looked for jobs out of state as a way to escape. He wasnotpleased with Riley. And talking to Riley’s parents was not an option.”
“Riley’s the ex?”
“Yup. He would not leave me alone. It was like he became this totally different person.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to piece together what might have happened. “Did you date him before you came out? Is that why you broke up?”
“No, I came out in middle school. I’m bi.” She pauses, considering me. “That’s not a problem, is it?” she asks, her question more challenge than curiosity, and I hate that I’ve put her on the defensive like this.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” I take a long sip of my smoothie and hiss when I get a brain freeze. “How’d your parents handle your coming out?”
“They were fine. My dad’s bisexual, too, so it’s not like I had to explain any of it to them. They both understood, him especially.” She picks up her cup as my phone goes off. For the billionth time. “Is that your ex again? Maybe you should answer it. Be clear with her you don’t want to talk.”
“You sure? I could turn it off.”
Morgan waves me on and sips her drink.
I pick up the phone and pivot toward the wall. “What do you want?”
“Hannah. Thank god.” Veronica’s voice is hoarse. Something crashes in the background. “No one else is answering.”
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I’m out of my chair in an instant.
“Someone broke in. I locked myself in my room.” Another pound. Another shout.
“Did you call the police?” I whisper into the phone, but Morgan’s eyes shoot up to find mine anyway.
There’s another crash, and Veronica gasps. “I can’t. I think you’re right. I think it’s the Blood Witch.”
“What?”
“He hit me. My blood... I think my blood touched his skin. Hannah—”
“I’m coming. Hang on.” I turn to Morgan. “I’m sorry. I need to leave.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. Go. Do you need me to call anyone?”
“I’ve got it covered.” I rush for the door, but I pause and turn back to my abandoned date. “I’m really sorry.”
And then I run.
12
I DRIVE WITH RECKLESSabandon, my worries running on an endless loop. Nothing that’s happened this summer makes any sense. Why would a Blood Witch start a fire at Nolan’s house? Why not go after Veronica directly—like they’ve done now, I realize. The thought makes my whole body go cold.
No one’s answering their phone, and I’m forced to leave coded messages—for my mom, my dad, Lady Ariana, even Veronica’s parents—telling them to come. To hurry. I take a sharp left toward Veronica’s street, cutting off a minivan, and dial my mom again. It rings and rings.
“Dammit.” I throw my phone in the passenger seat when the voicemail picks up again. She must still be in class. If this isn’t a good enough reason to convince my parents to teach me advanced air magic, I don’t know what is.
