He’ll release Armageddon.
I shiver, thinking of the last time I saw Armageddon’s army march across Purgatory, leaving a trail of smoke, blood, and destruction behind them. It’s not something I ever want to witness again.
Prescott steps closer to the door. “I’ll take these to my office right away. And I’ll find that coin. You can trust me.” He rushes off into the night.
For a time, I watch Prescott race through the trees and back to the school. What is that dude’s deal, anyway? I ponder for a few moments before I realize how easy it is to pick out Prescott’s silhouette through the trees. We must’ve been here longer than I thought. It’s getting light out.
I tap Lincoln’s shoulder and point in the direction of my cabin. “We should head back.”
Lincoln nods and together, we slip through the forest. As we step along, the night demons disappear under the growing light. Dawn will be here soon. Once we’re well away from the rickety cabin, Lincoln speaks again. “Prescott’s library is in his office. It’s the only one on the island. That’s why he was so excited about your father’s donation. He wants to build something far grander.”
“Can you get in there?”
Lincoln shakes his head. “It’s guarded, and faculty must make an appointment to enter.”
A sly smile rounds my lips. “What about students who misbehave?” This was a specialty of mine back at Purgatory High.
“They go right in.” Lincoln’s eye fill with mischief. “Do you think you can get sent to the headmaster’s office?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“That’s my Myla.”
It’s all I can do not to yell “mwah-hah-hah.” After what I saw tonight, I’m totally wound up about Prescott being a tool, a murderer, or both. Long story short, I can’t wait to get in trouble with him again.
Chapter Seventeen
All that snooping around on the north side of the island—combined with my extracurricular activities with Lincoln—make for one tired quasi-demon. Once I get back into my cabin, I crawl back into bed, close my eyes, and fall right to sleep.
I barely have time to hit a REM cycle when my alarm starts ringing. It takes me a few seconds to remember I have to attend breakfast this morning at Jamboree Hall.
Blech.
I sit up and scrub my hands over my face.
It’s Friday. Not even a full day left to find the codex.
Excitement heats my bloodstream. After last night, we know the codex is in Prescott’s office. My mouth winds into a semi-evil smile. I’m so going to enjoy worming my way in there.
I drag my butt out of bed, take a quick shower, and get dressed in my new uniform. I scope myself out in the mirror and come to the conclusion that I hate all uniforms on principle.
Still, knowing that Lincoln likes to see me in skirts takes a little of the sting out of the situation. Once I’m all set, I follow the sound of the bell to Jamboree Hall. A pair of girls makes their way through the trees. Their faces look pale and their movements are jittery.
I saunter over and slap on my best smile. “Good morning!”
The two of them say something that sounds like “mumble-mumbling.” I think that’s good morning if you’re human and spent the night terrified of the demons outside your cabin.
No question about it. Those rumors about this place being haunted are definitely due to the freewheeling demon fiesta. I still can’t believe how many I saw last night.
One mystery down, a ton to go.
I follow the wooden signs toward Jamboree Hall. With every step, I get more ticked off. That damned Acca demon patrol. If they’d been doing their jobs instead of scheming against Lincoln’s family, these girls wouldn’t look like extras from Dawn of the Dead.
As I close in on the hall, real pathways start to appear through the woods. The trails all lead up to a large building that looks like a modern-style barn. It’s two stories high and made of stainless steel and concrete. The huge windows are framed in glossy wood. More log cabin meet modern art.
I walk into Jamboree Hall. It’s an open space with long tables across the floor and a low stage on the far side of the room. Along the right wall, a long buffet table stands, its surface heaped with food. I scan the pickings and although there are no demon bars, there’s another one of my favorite treats: bacon.
Oh, yeah.
I eagerly step into line and load up my plate with all sorts of bad-for-you breakfast stuff. One thing I’ll say for this place, they do not skimp on breakfast. By the time I’m through the line, I’ve got an omelet, cheese sandwich thingy, and a Jenga-like tower of bacon on my plate.
I’m so excited for this pile of greasy yumminess, I almost walk right into Lincoln without noticing. Of course, his tray is piled high with healthy crap. There’s a bowl of granola and a bunch of figs. I stare at the tray in disbelief. “Figs? What are you, ninety?”