Rosemary and Rue

The bodies in the front weren’t any easier to look at now that they seemed human. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the door, tugging Manuel along in my wake. He went silent again at the first sight of his sister’s manikin, retreating back into shock. I couldn’t blame him. He’d lost his sister and his teacher in the same night. Who was going to take care of him now?

“Wait here,” I said. Manuel didn’t respond; just stood there, staring dully at the wall. “I’m going to go to the office. Can you wait here for me?” I paused, giving him time to answer. He didn’t. “All right. Just scream if anything comes.” I left him there, standing silent in the company of the artificial dead, as I turned to enter Devin’s office for the very last time.

The lights were off, casting the whole room into shadow. I paused at the doorway, just looking at the darkness. No one ever went into Devin’s office without him, and he was never in the office with the lights off. He was really gone.

We’d have to come back later and search the place, tear it brick from brick to find out who might have known what he was planning, who he’d hired, what he’d paid them. For right now, that could wait; the dead weren’t coming back, no matter what we did. The first aid kit was underneath the desk. I picked it up, wincing as the movement put pressure on my ribs, and turned toward the door. Then I paused, looking back toward the bulletin board on the wall. All those pictures . . .

Finding my picture was easy. Mitch towered above Julie and me, making us both look very small, and even younger than we were, in our brand-new street clothes and our nervous attempts at looking dangerous. I took out the tack, continuing to scan the board.

In the end, I found their picture by the eyes. That shade of glaring green even photographed too bright to overlook. I pulled the shot of Dare and Manuel off the wall, tucking it, and the picture of my little gang, into the back pocket of my jeans. Then I turned, leaving the ghosts behind me as I walked back out to where Manuel was waiting.

He wasn’t waiting alone. I stopped in the doorway, blinking.

Help arrived while I was in the office, in the form of Sylvester Torquill and all the knights he’d been able to recall in the time it took for Lily’s message to reach him. The knights were arrayed around the room, looking uncertain—what were they supposed to be fighting? There was nothing left standing—while Sylvester stood beside Manuel, sheathed sword hanging by his side.

“Hey, Your Grace,” I said wearily. I walked toward him, putting the first aid kit down at his feet. “Please tell me you brought a car. I am so not taking another taxi.”

“Are you hurt?” Sylvester reached out, wiping a smear of blood off my cheek. “Tell me this isn’t yours.”

“It’s Devin’s,” I said. I could feel myself starting to cry. “Or Dare’s, maybe. I don’t know. I’m hurt, but I’ll probably live.”

Sylvester winced. “I’m so sorry. I called back the knights as soon as Lily told me where you were going, but the warding spells on the building were stronger than I expected them to be. We couldn’t find our way in.”

“There’s a Coblynau charm above the door outside,” I said, and frowned. “If you didn’t find the sign, how did you . . . ?”

“We followed the night-haunts.”

“Oh, oak and ash.” I took a step forward, leaning my head against Sylvester’s chest. “It was Devin. It was Devin all along. You were right. I should never . . . I should never have . . .”

“Shhh,” he said, putting his arms around me. I made a pained noise, and he pulled back, eyes gone wide. “October?”

“Sorry.” I forced a smile. “It’s my ribs. I think they’re broken.”

“How?”

“Devin decided I needed some kicking.” I indicated the first aid kit. “Think we can have somebody patch me up?”

“I’m taking you home with me. Both of you.” Sylvester’s tone left no room for argument. “You need to see Jin before I’ll willingly let you out of my sight.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” I agreed.