He shook his head. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I wanted to find out what was in the crypt.” She leaned into his arm, tight around her waist. He smelled like a campfire in spring.
“I told you not to throw yourself in harm’s way, and then you run out and wake up a demon.”
“You woke the demon first with whatever you were up to by the river,” she snapped. “And I wanted to find out what it was.”
“I have nothing to do with the Purgators. Why can’t you just trust me?”
“Because you’re so obviously lying, and for all I know, you could be sneaking out at night to eat people or drink blood.”
She could see a vein pulse in his forehead, and they were silent for a few moments. Even before, when he hadn’t been lying, he’d never told her much about himself. He never spoke of his family.
He glanced at her. “You’re starting to become visible. You’ll need to chant the spell again.”
“Right.” She squinted at him. He was dressed in a loose white T-shirt. “Why are you visible? Won’t the guards see you?”
He stared ahead. “I slipped out quietly. I forgot the invisibility spell. Can you say it for both of us?”
Another lie. There was no way he’d forgotten the invisibility spell. True, he’d forgotten it in Maremount, but she was certain he’d committed it to memory since then. He’d been beating himself up for his lapse in Maremount. It was what had prevented him from saving Eden.
She shoved away the image of Eden’s corpse and Tobias’s grief-stricken face after he’d watched her die. Limping along, she fluently intoned the spell.
Tobias’s body disappeared into the darkness. “Thank you. And while we’re at it…” With his arm around her waist, he pulled her to a halt. He crouched down, lifting her ankle slightly.
“What are you doing?”
“The mending spell.”
“Will that work on an ankle?”
“It worked on a dead man’s skull. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work on you.”
He chanted the Angelic spell, and when he finished, the pain subsided in her leg. He released her ankle before standing again.
She rotated her foot. “That was a good idea.”
“I can be useful sometimes. When I’m not drinking blood.” He led her out of the hedge maze, and crickets began to chirp again.
As they stepped into the paths between the gardens, she heard a new set of footsteps crunching along the gravel.
“Fiona?” Alan’s voice, whispering. “We thought you were right behind us, and then we couldn’t find you.”
“I hurt my ankle. Tobias found me.”
“There you are!” cried Mariana. “I was freaking out that Evil Fiona caught you.”
“We’re not calling it that.” She crossed her arms. “Anyway, thanks for coming back for me.”
Clouds crept across the moon, and in almost total darkness, the four of them slipped past the guards and into the still house. When she got to her room, Fiona crawled into her bed, shutting her window tight against whatever shadow-self lurked in the grim angel garden. Tobias still wasn’t telling her anything. What sort of deal had he made with the Ranulfs that allowed him to sneak around the grounds fully visible?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Tobias
Below the portrait of Great-Grandfather Edgar, Mrs. Ranulf tapped her fingers on the table, her eyes flitting from student to student as they chatted over bowls of cereal. Her face was pale, the color of the puffed rice grains in her bowl. Munroe sat next to Tobias, and she peered over at him, ignoring her food.
It was frustrating sitting around the Ranulf mansion while he had a philosopher to kill. But he might as well hole up here until Amauberge Bouchard sucked the life out of Jack. The old monster would be too weak to put up a fight against Tobias when the succubus finished with him. On top of that, he’d be fortified with Emerazel’s strength. Jack didn’t stand a chance. It should just be a matter of days until he returned to Boston to kill Rawhed once and for all.
Jonah rubbed his eyes, only half awake. “So we have math first again today?”
“Math, then English.” There was little enthusiasm in Mariana’s voice.
Beside her, Fiona took a long slug of tea. Her slow blinking suggested she was struggling to stay awake. It must have been well after midnight by the time they’d both gotten back to their rooms. She knew he was lying about something, but he could fill her in once Jack was defeated. Anything before that meant she risked getting involved.
She wore a red ruffled shirt that looked like it was made for an eight-year-old, and yet the way it hugged her shoulders—
Munroe touched his arm. “Did you sleep all right last night, Tobias?”
Mrs. Ranulf frowned at her daughter. “Munroe. We don’t touch boys at the breakfast table.”
Munroe whipped her head around, lashing Tobias’s face with her red hair. “I wasn’t doing anything,” she hissed.