“Not if we time it right. At dawn on the summer solstice, he’ll be watching the eastern perimeter, because it’s the closest entry point to the sacred circle. We could leave from the old stables on the western edge, slip through their fingers.”
For a moment, I got caught up in the idea, Dane and I escaping from all of this, starting life anew; then a crippling thought washed over me.
“I can’t leave my mom here.”
“Then I’ll stay,” he said with such sincerity, it made me ache. “Besides . . .” He leaned forward, his hands slowly moving up my thighs. “I always felt like I was waiting for something, too.” He slipped his hands beneath the hem of my shorts, pulling me toward him. “Maybe that something was you,” he whispered, his lips hovering mere centimeters from mine . . .
“Ash!” The front door slammed open. My brother’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a hatchet.
Dane pulled away.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Beth grinned, her warm brown eyes twinkling in the lamplight, completely clueless as to what she just walked in on.
“As you can see, I’m fine.” I closed the medical kit with a little too much force. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me right now.
“What’s he doing here?” Rhys asked without looking at Dane. “I told you to stay close. You’re supposed to be at the bonfire.”
Dane stood. “I was just leaving.”
Rhys looked down at the blood-soaked gauze. “What happened?”
“I fell. It’s nothing.” Dane pulled his shirt back on.
“Funny.” Rhys squared his shoulders. “You don’t strike me as the clumsy type.”
Dane smiled at me. “Thanks for a memorable evening.”
He stepped outside and my brother slammed the door behind him.
“That’s it.” Rhys glared at me through his disheveled bangs. “We’re leaving.”
31
FEVER
RHYS TORE PAST ME, down the stairs, to my mother’s room. “I know I said I’d give you three days, but I’ve had enough.”
I looked at Beth pleadingly, but she seemed just as shocked as I was.
Rhys threw clothes into his bag. “From the moment we got here you’ve changed. This whole thing was never about the dead girl . . . about helping Mom. There was never a plan. This was all about Dane. God, I’m such an idiot.”
“Can we please talk about this?” I twisted the end of the ribbon between my fingers.
He pulled the bag of cash and gold from underneath the bed. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk on our way back to civilization.” Storming back upstairs and out the front door, he plunged into the prairie grass, making a beeline for the corn.
“Rhys!” Beth scurried to catch up to him.
“And we’re taking Beth with us,” he said over his shoulder.
Beth stopped in her tracks, that loopy smile engulfing her face. “You’d do that? You’d take me with you?”
“We have to stop him,” I whispered to Beth as I pulled her along into the knee-high stretch of coarse grass. “He doesn’t know about the corn.”
She looked at me in shock.
“Please just wait . . . I can explain everything . . . it’s not what you think.”
I tried to stop him, but Rhys took a determined step into the corn and was thrown back at least ten feet, knocking the wind right out of him.
“What was that?” He inhaled sharply as he staggered to his feet. “They must’ve built some kind of invisible fence—like for a dog—but on steroids.” He rubbed his shoulder.
Beth raced to his side, her eyes shiny with tears. “I thought you already knew.”
“Maybe if we can get past the barrier.” He ran toward the corn and it flung him back, again and again and again, until he could hardly pick himself back up.
Tears were spilling down Beth’s cheeks now as she stood by, watching him rage against the stalks.
“It’s not an invisible fence,” I said as I stepped forward. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”
“Did you know about this?” he gasped as I tried to help him find his footing, but when I didn’t answer he jerked away from me, almost falling over again.
“You knew we couldn’t leave?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You knew this whole time and you didn’t say anything?”
“I’m sorry, Rhys.” My voice shook. “I wanted to tell you. I just . . . I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“Worse?’ he screamed. “Do you realize what you’ve done by bringing us here? We’re trapped.” He began to pace. “This can’t be happening. Somebody must’ve slipped something in my drink.”
“It’s real. All of it.” I swallowed hard as I turned to face him. “I saw Coronado tonight. I saw the Arcanum. They killed Tanner from the junkyard. Coronado wanted to kill me. But Dane saved me.”
“Ash,” he groaned in frustration. “The visions aren’t real—”
“These weren’t visions,” I said. “The corn is more than a protective barrier. It’s alive and it’s eating people.”