Mom sits up straighter. “Agreed, but not now. You have a match tomorrow. If you don’t show up, the ghouls will look for you right away. Walker is right. We need time to contact Verus and come up with a plan. I don’t want you rushing off into worse trouble than you leave behind.”
I try to meet Mom’s gaze, but can only stare at the floor. Worse trouble, right. Not sure what that would be, but with my luck, it’ll find me. “Agreed. I’ll hit the match. With my hood on, no one will see my eyes have changed.” Plus, that’ll give me a chance to say my goodbyes tonight. A grim weight sets in around me. All my friends, school, Arena battles…Everything is about to change.
“It’s settled then.” Walker grips his hands behind his back. “I’ll portal Myla right after the match.”
“Sure thing.” I give Walker a half-hearted nod. Tomorrow morning at 5 AM I’ll be suiting up to leave Purgatory, possibly forever. I blink hard, trying to keep up with events. I just went from being an Arena fighter and homebody to ‘Scala Heir on the run’. I grab a blanket from the couch and wrap it around me. Suddenly, I need a nap like it’s my job.
Mom smoothes back her hair. “I remember that bunker from my days as a Senator. It takes some time to set up and at least four people to open. Is there any way I can get there earlier?”
“Another ghoul could portal you,” says Walker. “How about TIM-29?”
I pull my blanket around me and roll my eyes. TIM-29 is a dip. “This plan has enough stupid in it without inviting that guy around.”
The look on Mom’s face says she agrees. “I haven’t seen Tim since before Myla was born.”
Walker shrugs. “But do you trust him, Camilla?”
She pauses. “Yes, completely.”
“Then I’ll approach TIM-29.” Walker frowns. “You still need two more people.”
My eyes half-open. My overwhelmed brain has just enough functioning cells to spit out one last idea. “If you only need folks to open a door and transport back, Cissy and Zeke can help.”
“Good.” Walker rocks back on his heels. “I’ll speak with your friends as well. We’ll all meet back here before the match tomorrow.” He turns to me and grins. “Angelbound to Lincoln, eh?”
I curl deeper into my blanket and blush. “Yeah.”
“You better tell him about the…” He points to the general area of my eyes.
Rising to my feet, I hunch-walk toward my bedroom. “I’m not doing anything until I’ve had a nap.” I let out a puff of air. What a bitch of a morning.
Mom folds her arms over her chest, a smile twinkling in her eyes. “I’ll call school and tell them you’re sick.”
I loop the top of the blanket over my head. “Thanks, Mom.”
“And Myla?”
I take little shuffling steps to turn around and see her, the blanket still curled around my ears. “What, Mom?”
“I’m very proud of you.”
My face breaks out into a huge smile. I didn’t expect it’d feel that good to hear her say those words. “Thanks, Mom. I’m proud of you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sometime after lunch, Nightshade and I start the long ride to the thrax compound. Mom gave me a ghoul robe to wear; I’m careful to keep the hood drawn low to hide my eyes. As Night and I gallop along, a light drizzle falls over the browning trees and yellow grass. The clouds hang low and dark in the sky.
I sigh. The weather’s as gloomy as my mood. Walker was right. Lincoln and I have a lot stacked up against us, and that was before I became the Scala Heir. Now I’m off to who-knows-where so I can hide for no-one-knows-how-long. I can’t imagine this being good for our relationship.
Night and I soon cross the rolling hills to the open fields of thrax lands. I’m too nervous to enjoy the ride much. My thoughts keep turning over the realizations of the morning and how they probably spell doom and gloom for me and Lincoln. Night whinnies, breaking me out of my funk. I glance about, finding us stopped in front of the thrax feasting hall.
I lean forward and pat Night’s neck. “In here, girl?”
Night whinnies again.
“Thanks.” I slide off her back, step up to the hall’s door and pull on the wooden handle. It opens with a long creak. I step inside, finding everything to be quiet, empty, and dark. My stomach somersaults with nervous energy. How do I even begin to explain everything to Lincoln?
“Hello? Anybody in here?”
No response. In a corner, I hear the clickity-clack of mouse claws on the wooden floor. No one’s around. I stand by the feasting table, drumming my fingers on the rough wood. Anxiety spirals up my spine. The only thing worse than having to explain this to Lincoln? Having to hunt around the thrax compound first and find him. Maybe Nightshade made a mistake.
The door behind me slowly swings open. Adrenaline pumps into my bloodstream. Moving quickly, I pull my hood low over my face, steal across the room, and flatten myself against a stretch of wall by the door.
A column of light slices through the darkened feasting hall. Lincoln steps inside along with two older men.