Thea glanced at her watch.
"Why not?
I think I've already missed French."
He grinned.
"Back in a minute."
When he was gone, Thea wandered slowly among the silent booths, lost in her own thoughts.
For a few minutes there, when I was ranting, I almost told him the truth. And then later I thought maybe he'd figured it all out for himself.
And would that be so terrible? He's already under sentence of death just because I love him; it doesn't matter if he knows or not.
But if he did know . . . what would he say? Witches may be okay in the abstract-but does he really want one for a girlfriend?
The only way to find out was to tell him.
She leaned against a ladder and gazed sightlessly at an oilcloth lying beneath a hanging noose. Of course, it was probably all academic anyway. What kind of future could they possibly have . . . ?
Suddenly Thea realized what she was looking at.
Underneath that oilcloth was a shoe-and the shoe was connected to something. Subconsciously, she'd been assuming it was another witch dummy . . . but now she focused. And she felt the hairs on her arms lift and tingle.
Why would they dress a witch in black Nike high-tops?
I he
shoe
was so incongruous that for an instant Thea thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her. It was the atmosphere here-the dim, echoing room with all its macabre booths.
If she looked away and then looked back . . .
It was still there.
I should wait, I should call somebody. This could be something terrible. There are human authorities; I should at least wait for Eric. ...
Thea found herself moving in dreamlike, slow speed.
She took the edge of the oilcloth between finger and thumb and lifted it just an inch or so.
There was a leg attached to the shoe.
A blue-jeaned leg.
Not part of a dummy.
And another shoe.
Horror and adrenaline washed over Thea. And,
strangely
, that helped. Her first thought was. It's a person and she may be hurt. She went into emergency mode, slamming a wall between herself and her fear.
Hang on, are you okay, just let me see . . .
She pulled the rest of the oilcloth off, tugging to get it free. She saw legs, a body, curled fingers clutching the sleeve of a black-dressed witch dummy . . .
Then she saw the head and she reeled backward, both hands pressed over her mouth. She'd only gotten a glimpse, but the picture was burned into her mind.
Blue-gray face, hideously swollen.
Grotesquely bulging eyes.
Tongue like a sausage protruding from between black lips . . .
Thea's knees gave out.
She'd seen the dead before. She'd been to leave-taking ceremonies where the mortal remains of witches were returned to the earth. But those had been natural deaths, and the corpses had been peaceful. While
this ...
I think it was a boy. It had short hair and a flat chest. But there was no way to recognize the face. It was so distorted-didn't even look human. . . .
He died violently. May his spirit be released; not held here by the need for revenge. Oh, Sekhmet, lion-headed goddess of
Sekhmet
Who Reduceth to Silence . . .
Her disjointed thoughts were interrupted as sunlight fanned into the room. At the door, Eric shouted, "I'm back!"
Thea stood up. Her legs wanted to cave again. She
opened
her mouth, but what came out was a whisper. "Eric-"
He was hurrying toward her.
"What's wrong?
Thea?"
"It's somebody dead."
She saw his eyes widen in absolute disbelief-and then he looked past her. He took a step toward the thing on the floor, stopped, crouched, and stared for a second. Then he whirled back and grabbed her as if he could somehow protect her from what he'd seen. "Don't look at it
;
don't
look over there," he gasped. "Oh, God, it's bad."
* "I know. I saw it." "It's bad; it's so bad. ..."
They were both holding on to each other. It was the only safety in this nightmare.
"He's dead. That guy is dead," Eric said. It was obvious, but Thea understood the need to babble. "There's nothing we can do for him. Oh, God, Thea, I think it's Kevin Imamura."
"Kevin?" Black dots danced in front of Thea's eyes. "No, it can't be-"
"I've seen him wearing that shirt before. And the hair . . . And he's on the committee to decorate this place. He must have been setting up that dummy." Thea's
mind
showed
her a terrible picture. A
crusted
dark
line
on
that
bloated
face-like the wound made by a slashing razor. And the soft black hair . . . Yes, it could have been Kevin. And that meant- Blaise.
"Come on," Eric was saying, his voice dazed and quenched. "We've got to tell the office."
Numbly, Thea let him guide her. Her mind was in another place.
Blaise.
Did Blaise know . . . could Blaise have . .
.
She didn't want to form the thought even to herself, but she couldn't help it.
...
finally
gone all the way? Not just spilled blood, but taken a life?
It was forbidden to witches. But the Harmans were part lamia, and vampires sometimes killed for power. Could Blaise have gone that far into the darkness?
After they got to the office, things happened fast, but Thea couldn't really take it in. Activity whirled around her.
The secretaries.
The principal.
The police.
She was grateful for Eric, who kept telling the story over and over so she didn't have to.
I need to find Blaise.
They were back at the gym. The police were cordoning off the whole building with yellow tape. A throng of students and teachers was watching. Thea's eyes skimmed the crowd, but she didn't see Blaise anywhere.
Voices rose around her.
"I heard it was Kevin Imamura."
"Somebody said that guy from the dance came back and got him."
"Eric! Eric, did you really see him?"
Then one voice outshouted the others.
"Hey, Mrs. Cheng, what about the Halloween party?
Is the gym gonna be open by then?"
The principal, who had been huddled with a couple of police officers, turned around. Black hair riffling over her forehead in the breeze, she addressed the entire crowd.
"I don't know what is going to happen with the gym. There's been a tragedy, and now there's going to be an investigation. We'll just have to wait and see what comes of that. Now, I want everybody to go back to their classes. Teachers, please take your students back to your classrooms."
"I can't go back," Thea whispered. She and Eric were standing at a little distance from the thinning crowd. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about them.
"I'll take you home," Eric said immediately.
"No-I need to find Blaise. I have some things to ask her." She tried to make her stupefied brain work. "Eric, I should have told you this before. You've got to be careful."
"Of what?"
"Of Blaise."
He looked incredulous. "Thea . . ." He glanced at the old gym. "You can't think she had anything to do with-what happened to Kevin."
"I don't know. She could have had somebody do it-or made him do it himself." Thea kept her voice low. She looked straight into Eric's face, willing him to believe her. "Eric, I know you don't understand, but it's like I told you before. She's like Aphrodite.
Or Medea.
She laughs when she destroys things. Especially when she gets mad . . . and she's mad at you."
"Why?"
"Because you picked me instead of her-because I like you-lots of things. That doesn't matter. The point is that she may come after you. She may try to ... seduce you. And"-Thea glanced at the bobbing yellow tape surrounding the old gym-"she may try to hurt you. So will you just be careful if you see her? Will you promise me that?"
Eric looked windblown and bewildered, but he nodded slowly. "I promise."
"Then I'll see you later. We still have things to talk about-but I have to find Blaise first."
She walked toward the crowd, leaving Eric standing there in the wind. She knew he was watching her.
.
A waving hand caught Thea's eye. It was Dani, her face full of sympathy and concern.
"Thea, are you all right?"
"Sort of."
Thea gave a laugh she didn't recognize. "Have you seen Blaise around?"
Dani's soft little hand crept into hers. "She and Vivienne went home-I mean, to your place. I'll go back with you, if you want. You shouldn't be alone."
Thea squeezed her hand. "Thanks. I'd appreciate it." She was grateful-and relieved that Dani didn't hate her. "Dani-about the way I acted earlier . . ."
"Forget it. I don't know what I said, but I didn't mean to make you mad." She added gently, "Thea, are you really okay?
Really?
Because I don't want to upset you more. . . ."
"Why?" And then: "What, Dani?"
"Your grandma's sick. That's why Blaise and Vivienne went home-Vivienne's mom paged her. She's
a
healer-Vivienne's mom, I mean-and I think she's taking your grandma to her house."
Thea was disturbed. Gran hadn't moved to
When they got to the shop, Gran was already gone. Tobias and Vivienne were downstairs. "Is she okay?" Thea asked. "Is it something bad?" "Not too bad," Tobias said. "She just kept getting dizzy today, and then she had a coughing fit and couldn't stop. She finally decided maybe she'd better get somebody to sing it out.
So she called Ms. Morrigan."
Oh, great-chanting. Just what Gran
loved.
But she must have been really sick to ask to have it done. "Can I call her?"
"I wouldn't," Vivienne put in. Her green eyes were kind, her voice reassuring. "I'm sure Mom's working on her by now, and when she does a singing, it takes all night. You shouldn't disturb them. But don't worry, Thea-my mom's really
good
."
"Yes-it's not that I'm worried about." Thea looked around distractedly, finally coming back to Vivienne's face. "Did you hear about what happened at school?"