Will pulled the last item from the box—a thin, fabric-bound book.
“That’s the same book Miranda had,” I said, taking it from him. “It’s a book of protection spells. The exact same one Miranda had.” I flipped it over, looking for some kind of discernible marking. “I wonder if it was from the same place.” I could feel myself starting to chew on the inside of my cheek again and I shook myself. “Do you think Cathy knew what was going to happen to her? And if so, does that mean Miranda is next?”
Will took the necklace and the book from me, slipping them both in his pocket and slipping the box back under Cathy’s bed. “Only one way to find out.” He stood and opened the bedroom door. “Coming?”
“We can’t just take that,” I hissed. “It’s Cathy’s property. Shouldn’t we at least tell her mother?”
“I think Julia has enough to deal with already,” Will said without turning around.
It was nearly seven o’clock when Will and I left Cathy’s house. I dialed Alyssa’s home number, my stomach doing flip-flops with each ring. Finally, the voice mail kicked on.
“I guess we’re out of the luck for the day, huh?” Will asked as we crested the Mercy High driveway.
I pinched my bottom lip, held up an index finger, and dove into my shoulder bag.
“What’s that?” Will asked, gesturing with his chin at the thin book I pulled out.
I slapped on the overhead dome light.
“Hey! Careful! Nigella is a collector’s item, remember?”
“A trash collector’s item,” I grumbled, trying to make anything out in the dim light. “Aha.” I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number. “It’s the high school directory,” I whispered to Will as I let the phone ring. “I’m calling Miranda.”
“Why?” he whispered back.
“She could be next. She could be in danger right now.”
Miranda’s voice mail kicked on and I smacked the phone shut. “Damn it!”
“You don’t want to leave a message?”
My eyes bulged. “Really? What would I say? ‘Miranda, dear, this is your teacher. You’re in grave danger, so try not to leave the house. Or maybe you should leave the house. TTYL!’”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t end with ‘TTYL.’ I was thinking more along the lines of ‘can you call me when you get this.’”
I flopped my head back against Nigella’s cracked maroon headrests. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Will. I feel like we aren’t getting anywhere. Maybe it’s time to leave this one to the professionals.”
Will was silent for a beat before he clicked off the overhead light. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, and by that time Will had slipped my hands into his and pulled them close to his chest.
“You are a professional, love. The police department is doing what they’re best at, and you’re doing what you’re best at. Sampson knows—this is not just about teenage girls. This is about witchcraft and you know how to deal with that.”
“That’s the thing, Will. Some toilets blew up. Some girls have spell books. What else proves that this has anything to do with witchcraft? And it is about the girls. We’re looking for bedknobs and broomsticks and Alyssa is still missing.”
He squeezed my hands and the warmth of his—his smooth palm, our fingers interlaced—shot a comforting warmth through me and I wanted to believe anything he said.
“We’re going to find her, love.”
Chapter Seven
Will and I sat in his car for a silent beat. My heart was hammering in my chest and I licked my lips, looking at the monolith of Mercy High in front of me. It was imposing in the daytime, but at night, barely highlighted by the silver slashes of moonlight, the building looked ominous, threatening. I half expected a flash of lightning to crack through the sky, an MGM warning that this particular building sat like a lightning bolt for all things evil.
“We need to go back in the building.”
Will looked at me, eyebrows disappearing into his sandy hair. “Back into the high school? Why? We’ve checked it over twice.”
I sucked in a slow, deep breath. “I don’t think I was ready to see anything.”
Will’s brow furrowed and he pressed his lips together.
I rushed on. “I didn’t want to see anything there except for what I knew—in my head, in my—what is it? Repressed memories.”
Will reached across the center console and took my hand tenderly in his. He cocked his head slightly and blinked, the honey-amber of his eyes warm and inviting. “You’ve never repressed a thing in your life, love.”