She heard herself speaking fast and furiously, and gripped Skylar’s arms as though she was going to fall over. “They know things about us,” Em pressed on. “Things that we’re ashamed about. Things we did that maybe—that weren’t right. And that flower,” she said, pointing toward the fire, “it means you’re in danger. It means they know something about you.”
Terror replaced confusion in Skylar’s eyes. Good. That meant she was listening. The flames lit Skylar’s cheek, coloring it a rusty, glowing orange. The other side of her face was completely in shadow. She was shaking her head, starting to mumble.
“It’s not my fault. . . . I didn’t mean . . .” Then she jerked backward, out of Em’s grip. “How did you find out? How do you know?” She stared at Em accusingly, as though she was the one to be afraid of.
“Look, I don’t know anything,” Em thought Skylar looked relieved. “I’m just trying to help. Start from the beginning. When did you meet the girls?” If she calmed down and got Skylar to open up, she could actually learn something. Maybe there was a pattern here, of who the Furies targeted.
But Skylar had shut down. She started backing away. “Look, Em, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re really freaking me out. I’m going to get a new drink.”
Just as Em started to protest her phone buzzed in her pocket. As she fished it out Skylar used the distraction to escape.
“I—I’ll see you later,” she said over her shoulder while she walked quickly away.
It was Drea. Thank god. Em needed Drea more than ever right now. Their fight, her terrible words, rang in her head. She would find Skylar in a few minutes. First she would talk to Drea.
“Amazing timing,” she said as she picked up, not letting Drea respond. “There’s a new orchid. The Furies have marked someone else. We need to meet.”
“Sweetheart, just tell me when and where.” A male voice, full of confidence and swagger, came over the line.
Em took the phone away from her ear, made sure it really was Drea’s name she’d seen on the caller ID, and then spoke again. “Who is this?”
Laughter, low and sleepy. “It’s Crow,” the voice said. “Drea left her phone in my car, and I wanted to get it to her. Is she with you?”
“Oh. Hi. Um. No, she’s not with me. I don’t know where she is. But I need to talk to her. As soon as possible.”
“You sure do have a lot of demands, princess,” Crow responded. Em rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn’t see her blush. “If I see Drea, I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks,” Em said, getting ready to hang up.
“Hey—what are you up to tonight?” Crow asked with renewed energy. “My band practice got canceled. Maybe we could all hang out? If we find Drea, of course.”
Em hesitated. She liked Crow, and she wouldn’t mind hanging out with him—there was something supremely relaxing about how little he expected from her, how easily she could defy his expectations—but there was no way that she could invite the Grim Creeper to an Ascension party. He’d ostracized himself from this group.
“I’m—I can’t,” she finally said. “Just tell her I called, okay? If you see her. Tell her I need to see her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Crow said breezily. Em remembered Drea’s words from the other day: I think he has a crush on you. There was no way. Absurd. She brushed the thought from her mind. “Oh, and by the way, I found that information you wanted.”
Em’s eyes widened. “You did? Oh my god, Crow, you’re amazing!” she gushed.
“I know. I’m not sure if the information will help you much, though,” he said. “The only person in the antiquities room that day was Sasha Bowlder.”
The words nearly knocked her over; she had to put her hand against a nearby tree to steady herself. Sasha Bowlder. The rumors about witchcraft, about Sasha’s weird activities in the woods . . . It was all too coincidental. Something was coming together, but Em wasn’t sure what.
“You still there?” Crow asked, actually sounding earnest for once.
“Yeah, I—I just wasn’t expecting that,” she said.
“Neither was I,” Crow said. “Hey, do me a favor. . . . Don’t tell Drea that, at least not yet. She’s too fucked up right now.”
Em nodded vigorously, even though Crow couldn’t see her. Of course. Drea and Sasha had been very close, and Drea was still grappling with her friend’s death, going as far as to visit with the Bowlders occasionally to help them all get closure. “No, I won’t,” she said. “Thanks, Crow. Thank you so much.”
She wished more than anything that she hadn’t blown up at Drea the other night. What the hell had come over her? Sure, it had stung to see JD spending time with someone else—another girl, to be precise. But Drea was right. She had no right to be so upset, especially not with Drea, especially not to that degree. They were studying! Like normal people did when they were in high school! And even if she was justified in being pissed off, her reaction had been totally out of proportion.
She would reconcile with Drea before she did anything else. And then she’d tell her about Skylar, who was obviously in trouble too. Should they warn her? Was there anything they could do? She looked around, trying to locate Skylar among the half-shadowed partiers.
It was then that Em heard the screaming.