“You’re not the boss of me, Crowe.”
He closed the distance between us with one stride and towered over me. “Go home. You’re drunk. Count yourself lucky that I’m not going to make sure Owen knows that, too.”
“I’m not drunk,” I lied. If Dad knew, he’d probably use it as an excuse to put a containment barrier spell around the house—his version of grounding. “I had two drinks, for God’s sake.” Or was it three…?
“You were drunk when you got here,” he snapped. “You’re fooling no one, Jemmie. You’re a mess, and you can’t protect yourself. You have no business being here at all.”
“What the hell?” I tried to shove him away, but he didn’t budge. “Half the people here are already drunk, Crowe. It’s a freaking party! And you’re not in charge of me.” My eyes were stinging with the humiliation. “I’m not a child, and I can stay if I want.”
“No, you can’t,” said Crowe. “You heard Killian—he’s up to something—”
“You’re the only one who was making threats in there!”
“He murdered my father,” Crowe thundered.
“Or maybe it was an accident,” I shouted back. “And maybe you just want an excuse to burn down the world.”
Crowe staggered back like my shove hit him a minute late. His shoulders heaved and his fists clenched. “Jane predicted something significant would happen at this festival. And Killian—”
“He said his seer made the same call. Why would he say that if he was planning something himself?”
“Because he’s a twisted asshole who likes to play with people’s minds,” said Crowe. “And I needed him to know—”
“Why did you keep me awake when you put almost everyone else to sleep?” I blurted out.
Crowe ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “You need to understand the threat.”
“And that threat is you?”
“Jemmie, go home. Just go home. I have too many people to protect, and you’re a liability. Sober up, figure yourself out, and practice your magic, because you have no place here if you don’t.”
“You don’t understand,” I mumbled. “I can’t just—”
“If you can’t do it, then maybe you should get the hell out of Hawthorne,” he said roughly. “You’re only going to get hurt if you stay.”
I blinked fast, fighting tears I was not going to shed in front of him. “That’s what you want?”
His breath shuddered from his chest, and he looked away. “Yeah.”
“All because I had a few drinks. All because I won’t do magic on command.”
“How about both?”
“Why do you even care?”
As he brought his eyes to mine again, his voice was slightly gentler. “No one drinks like you do unless they’re hiding from something, and I think you’re hiding from your magic.”
I sighed. “That’s not how it is.”
“Bullshit. Is it your dad? You stopped practicing right around the time he left. I remember Alex telling our mom.” His voice had lost its sharp edges, but his words still packed a punch. “There’s no shame in having the same kind of magic he does. There’s no shame in using it.”
“Quit trying to psychoanalyze me. You suck at it.”
“Am I wrong? I’ve known you your whole life, Jemmie Carmichael, and you’ve never been chickenshit about anything except your own power.”
“It’s none of your business.” I bit back a bitter comment about how he had made sure of that when he started kissing other girls right in front of me.
“It is my business when it affects the Devils—we have to protect you because you can’t protect yourself. You can’t help protect Alex, either, and Lord knows she needs it sometimes.”
For a moment, we just stared at each other, and I remembered what Crowe had said to Hardy while I eavesdropped, about how I was a distraction, something that would slow him down. Shame wound so tightly around me that I couldn’t breathe. Crowe was right: I didn’t belong here. I was a disappointment to everyone. I was failing my best friend. And suddenly I wanted to be a million miles away.
Maybe living in a dreck world, far away from Hawthorne and the kindled community, was exactly where I belonged. Sometimes, when I thought about it, when I really considered it, it seemed like a welcome relief.
I let out a breath. “Fine. I’ll go home. But Alex—”
“Boone is with her, and he’ll be taking her home soon.”
“And you? What are you going to do?”
He smirked, the seriousness suddenly gone. “Now you care whether I live or die?”
I’ve always cared, you idiot. I turned away and looked at the car, where Jackson waited inside, his head bowed over his phone. “Just don’t go around picking fights.”
He snorted. “I’ll try. Think about what I said, all right? Stop hiding and face whatever you’re scared of. Whatever it is, I’m guessing you’re strong enough to deal with it.”
My back still to him, I rolled my eyes. Then I climbed into his car and Jackson turned the engine over, the roar of it like a jet plane in the intimate press of the forest.
As Jackson drove away, I checked the side mirror and was disappointed to see the reflection on the glass empty save for the silvery paint of moonlight on the trees.
NINE
WHEN I GOT HOME, I IMMEDIATELY TRIED CALLING DAREK, but he didn’t answer. I tried Alex, but hers went straight to voice mail.
I paced the house. Watched TV. Took a shower. Watched more TV. No one called me back. No one texted.
It was like all of them had forgotten that I existed. They had enough to deal with already, and couldn’t bother with me. Or maybe they were having so much fun that I just didn’t cross their minds.
Sometime after three in the morning I lay down and somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the ongoing silence from my friends. In some distant corner of my dreams, I heard the rumble of a Harley as it tore down my street and parked in front of my house. But it wasn’t until Crowe was at my bedside, shaking me, that I came fully awake.
It was still dark out, the moon only a phantom light behind my bedroom curtains. Crowe was hidden in darkness, but I knew it was him by the honeyed, smoky smell of him and the feel of his hands on my skin.
“What is it?” I croaked, and sat up on an elbow. “How did you get in here?” Dad was right—the barrier around our house was obviously shot.
“You weren’t answering your phone.”
“I was sleeping.”
He flicked the bedside lamp on and I winced.
“Have you heard from Alex?” he asked, an unfamiliar edge in his voice.
“What? No. Is she not home?” I grabbed my phone from the table and activated the screen. Five AM. Four missed calls from Crowe. There was nothing from Alex. Not even a text.
“I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.” He said this afternoon like it was still the same day, like he hadn’t slept at all yet. “She managed to slip away from Boone in the crowd.”
I kicked the blankets off. Crowe started to pace. “And you searched all over the festival?” I asked. “Even in the woods? Sometimes she—”
“Yes. I searched.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I searched the whole place.”
“Okay. So.” I scrubbed at my face, trying to knock the sleep from my eyes. “Someone has to have seen her. She kind of stands out.”
“Jackson didn’t see her after he got back from dropping you off. Hardy got too plastered to know the difference between a girl and a lamppost. Boone came up with nothing. Gunnar is still hiding from me. Brooke said she thought she saw Alex heading off to the parking lot with my mom, but Mom hadn’t seen her in hours. Not since we were all in the tent during setup, and Alex isn’t at home.”
“Was her car still in the lot?”
Crowe shook his head.
“What about Flynn? Did he see her?”
“I tried his phone before I came here, but he didn’t answer.”