Envy (The Fury Trilogy #2)

As she started to drive home she repeated it like a mantra: It was a one-time thing. One-time thing. But his words kept jutting into her consciousness. What had Crow meant when he’d said he didn’t want her to get hurt? Was that his ego talking, or was he referring to something more?

Em turned onto Route 204, on the other side of the Haunted Woods. A flash of purple caught her eye. Deep purple, reflected in her headlights against the falling dusk, bouncing ever so slightly. Like someone walking. As she got closer she saw that it was someone walking. And there was only one person in Ascension with purple hair.

“Drea?” Em pulled over and lowered her passenger-side window. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought I needed some exercise,” Drea said dryly.

“Get in,” Em ordered. “I’ve been looking for you for days.”

Drea obeyed, getting into the front seat of the car along with a gust of cold air. The rain had caused her black eyeliner to smear into half-moons under her lower lashes, making her look both scared and tired. “I went to look at that house,” she blurted out. “The one you mentioned in your voice mail.”

“Alone? Why didn’t you wait for me?” Em threw the car in park and turned her body to face Drea’s. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

“Nice shirt,” Drea said, giving Em a once-over. Em knew that Drea recognized it as Crow’s.

“Thanks.” Em shrugged, avoiding the topic. “Now tell me what you did. Why didn’t you call me first?” Em wanted to shake Drea for being so reckless.

“I needed to be alone,” Drea said, avoiding Em’s eyes.

Em exhaled slowly. Okay. If Drea needed to do things her way, Em would let her. It was better than losing her altogether.

“Listen, Drea, I’m sorry,” Em tried to make her voice as level as possible. She tugged at the sleeves of Crow’s long-sleeved shirt and was surprised to find that, like some of her own, this one had little thumbholes poked into the cuffs. “I’m sorry about the other night, at JD’s. I’m just . . . I have some feelings for him—about him—that I’m not very used to. And I’m sorry if you think I’m a flake when I’m with my other friends. You’re important to me. I’ve been really worried about you. . . .”

Drea waved her hand to cut Em off. “Okay, okay. Enough. I accept your apology. That’s not important right now.” She sucked in a deep breath. “The house, Em, the house you talked about?”

Em’s heart sped up. “Did you find it?”

“Nowhere,” Drea said quietly, and Em felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “I made a huge loop. I’ve been out here for hours. No house.”

Em felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the car. Her vision started to tunnel, the way it had at the bonfire. How could Drea not have seen the house? It was there. It was real.

“It was there, Drea. I saw it.”

“I believe you,” Drea said, turning to face her. “I know someone else who saw it once.” Another pause.

“What? Who? Come on, Drea. Spit it out.” Em thought she already knew the answer.

“Sasha,” Drea said. “Sasha told me about a house in these woods. Before she died. That’s when I gave her the snake pendant. The one she was wearing when she . . . you know. Jumped.” Drea cleared her throat and looked away.

Something deep within Em was spinning. Like a machine rumbling to life after a long dormancy. The book, the spells, the Furies. She was tantalizingly close to figuring out this awful riddle. But she bit her tongue. At this point, saying too much could get Drea in trouble too.

“And, Em? I found something else,” Drea said, turning slowly back toward Em. She ran her hand nervously over the short-haired side of her head, which was starting to get messy and pixie-ish.

“What?” Em was breathless.

“You’ll have to see for yourself. Go park at the turnaround,” Drea said, pointing ahead. “I’ll take you there now.”

Despite the rain and her fear, Em parked without protesting and trudged with Drea into the woods, approaching, from behind, the clearing where the house would be. Em was certain she’d recognize the area when she stumbled on it, even as twilight continued to deepen around them. As they stomped through the rain, their shoes making sucking noises in the mud, Em looked for familiar signs. There had been a tall pine with a split trunk. She’d know it when she saw it.

“It’s right around this bend,” Drea said. “I can still see some of my footprints in the mud here.”

Em looked up, squinting as hard rain fell into her eyes. There it was—the pine tree with two trunks, gnarled and stretching into the sky. The house should be right here. . . .

But it wasn’t. There was the clearing, and Em could even smell the acrid scent of smoke, but there was no house here. Not even a foundation. Just a clearing, with something looming in its center. The trees moaned around them.

“This is where . . .” Em trailed off. She swallowed. “It was here. I swear it was.”

“I believe you,” Drea said again. But her eyes were hard. “Come look.” She drew Em closer to whatever small structures were there in the middle of the circle.

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