I saw that faint electric shimmer of blue dance over Jessica’s skin, like she’d been touched by lightning. I narrowed my eyes as it grew brighter, wanting to see the moment that her shape changed.
But the blue light was suddenly extinguished. It fizzled and died in a way that I knew wasn’t natural.
Jessica blinked.
She frowned.
Our gazes met for one instant and I knew what she was thinking.
Just like in the nightmare.
Just like the moment of being spellbound.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, her fear obvious. “Can you see the spell that’s blocking me?”
“Not yet. Try again.” I tightened my grip on Skuld’s shears, ready for action.
Jessica touched the necklace with her fingertips again and swallowed her fear, murmuring that prayer one more time. The shadowy cats grew brighter and more substantial before my eyes, and I knew they were answering a summons from her.
And this time when that blue shimmer danced over her skin, the cats rubbed against something that was locked around Jessica’s ankle. It must have had a glamour on it to disguise it, but the ghostly cats pushed the glamour aside to reveal it. I saw the golden tendril of spell light clearly, thanks to them.
But I saw it only for a heartbeat before it was hidden again.
This time, the shimmer just sparked off her fingertips before it died to nothing. It didn’t even travel up her hands, let alone over her whole body.
The sight was terrifying.
Would I be able to see the spell better in my dragon form? My keen Pyr senses were even sharper when I was a dragon. It was worth a try.
I had to hope that whatever had touched Jessica wasn’t contagious.
But I knew the ShadowEaters were hungry.
My adrenaline was pumping when I flung out my hands and called to my own shimmer. I felt the power of the change slide through my body. I saw the brilliant blue light pass over my skin. I felt the tide of the shift, terrified all the while that it would stop before it was done.
But it didn’t. They didn’t have me yet. I felt the surge as the change was completed, raised my wings to beat them hard, and tipped my head back with joy.
Jessica hooted and applauded. Meagan did, too.
I wanted to shout. I wanted to roar. I wanted to breathe fire. I thrashed my tail, fiercely glad to still be what I am, and stretched to my full size.
Jessica tried to shift and the spell tendril glimmered more vividly on her ankle. It looked luminescent to me now. I locked my dragon gaze on the spell. Even now I could see it swelling. I could see it sucking something away from Jessica, like a parasite draining the life force from its host.
And there was a small shoot of spell vine snaking toward my own foot.
It was spreading. Finding her through the dream portal, then extending into real life to target the shifters around her.
That was enough. I lifted the shears and hacked at the spell closest to my own claw first, slashing it to oblivion. It fizzled and hissed and died, shooting little golden sparks in every direction as I consigned it to oblivion.
Then I went after the one that had claimed Jessica’s ankle. It was more substantial, this one, thicker and more robust and harder to cut. I had a tough time with the shears, given my lack of dragon dexterity.
“Let me help,” Meagan said, and abandoned her post. She seized the shears and started to snip, glancing to me for direction.
“Right here!” I directed. I bent and caught one end of the spell, holding it out so that she could guess where it was. “Cut harder!” I said. “Faster!”
It wriggled and writhed in my grip, like a boa constrictor that would have preferred to eat me alive. I held fast and Meagan snipped with all her might. As soon as the spell tether was severed, it spewed sparks, like a high-voltage cable severed while the power was still on.
One landed on Jessica and I saw it take root, growing a tendril that began to wind around her arm. Every spark was alive, a possible cause of our destruction.
“Stay back!” I commanded, and protected both Jessica and Meagan from the onslaught of spell chunks. I grabbed the shears and sliced with abandon, then loosed a torrent of dragonfire on the scattering spells. To my relief, that seemed to work; they fell to the ground like ash when I fried them. So Trevor hadn’t lied about the power of dragonfire. That was interesting. I got busy and went after every last one.
When I turned to fry the final stray spark, I saw that the bathroom door was open.
Suzanne stood there, smirking. “I knew you losers were up to something,” she said, then lifted her messenger and took a trio of shots.
“No!” I bellowed, and lunged after her. I shifted shape on the way, acting on instinct, but it was exactly what she expected me to do. The flash made me stumble and I lost precious momentum. She must have nailed images of me in transition and in human form, as well, her camera clicking like mad as she backed out of the bathroom.
My heart, just so you know, had fallen right through the floor.
I wasn’t even going to survive long enough to catch hell for breaking the Covenant. My dad had chewed me out before for revealing myself in both human and dragon form—the Covenant sworn by all the Pyr was intended to protect our privacy, and he hated when I broke it. I had no idea what Suzanne and her friends would do to me, armed with those images, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.
I had to make sure that proof was destroyed.
ASAP.
SUZANNE BOLTED DOWN THE CORRIDOR, trying to lose herself in the crowd of kids getting to class—or dawdling to not get there too soon. She kept looking back at me, and I smelled that she was surprised that I didn’t give it up. She shoved the messenger into her purse, pretending she didn’t have it. She dove into a cluster of her cronies—Trish, Anna, Yvonne, and Fiona—nudging Trish as if to set her on guard.
But none of them could keep me away from this.
Even the spell light that swirled around them couldn’t keep me away from this.
Two of the teachers were coming down the hall together—just my luck, it was Mrs. Mulvaney and Mr. Zacharias. Mrs. Mulvaney is older than God and big on discipline. I’d had her for homeroom the year before. I swear she would have failed me in homeroom for drawing during the announcements if she could have figured out a way to do it. Mr. Zacharias is one of those people who lives in his own world. That he could walk alongside Mrs. Mulvaney, calmly sipping his coffee as she ranted about something or other, pretty much said everything about his complacent nature.
I sensed Meagan and Jessica behind me, watching, and knew that the whole school would hear about this within five minutes. Mrs. Mulvaney would happily have my hide as a souvenir if I broke any rules, too.
But the stakes were high. I needed to erase those images.
I shoved past Trish easily and caught Suzanne’s elbow as kids milled all around us.
Just two girls not getting along.
“Girls!” Mrs. Mulvaney shouted, and I heard her heels clicking faster. “What’s this about, girls?”
Of course, everyone ignored her.
Suzanne’s pack started to taunt me as they surrounded me, and if I’d been anything other than a dragon girl, I might have worried about my own welfare. Right then and there, I didn’t care. I’d shift if I had to—although that would defeat the purpose. Suzanne must have guessed how intent I was because I could feel her shaking. I let my fingers dig into her arm and smiled, letting her think about talons and fire and big sharp teeth.
It was tempting to beguile her into believing she was being fried alive.
She caught her breath.
“You have something that belongs to me,” I said softly.
She threw back her hair. “As if I’d want anything of yours, Sorensson,” she said, but there was an undercurrent of fear in her voice.
“Why don’t you just give me the messenger?” It was a long shot, but I had to try.
Suzanne laughed. Her friends jo
stled around us, and that seemed to give her confidence. Either that, or it was Mrs. Mulvaney’s proximity. “I knew you were a freak,” she whispered, her eyes shining with malice. “And now I have proof.”
I snatched her purse then, moving so fast that she didn’t anticipate my move, and dumped its contents on the floor. Lipsticks clattered and bounced. A hairbrush fell. A notebook and four pens scattered in all directions.
The messenger never hit the floor. I grabbed it out of the air, threw aside her designer purse, then ran.
“Zoë Sorensson!” roared Mrs. Mulvaney.
“No!” Suzanne shouted, coming after me. The kids in the hall parted before us like the Red Sea. I felt Suzanne snatch after me and miss. “That’s mine. You can’t steal it from me!”
I kept running, right to the end of the hall. I had to buy myself a bit of time.
“Zoë!” Mrs. Mulvaney shouted after me. “What’s this about?”
I poked open the back of the camera and removed the memory card as I ran. I shoved it into my pocket, then pivoted at the end of the hall. I slammed my back into the lockers at the end of the hall, smiling at Suzanne.
The smile slowed her down.
She wasn’t that stupid. I held the messenger behind my back while I replaced the back panel.
Mrs. Mulvaney was marching toward us, pointing her finger and lecturing about rules.
I held up the messenger between us. “Sorry. Thought it was mine.” I tossed it at Suzanne.
She barely caught it, then scanned it for damage. It took her a minute to figure out what I’d done; then her eyes flashed. “Bitch!” she snarled, but I dropped the memory card on the tile and slammed the heel of my boot down to destroy it forever.
Suzanne squared her shoulders to glare at me, ignoring Mrs. Mulvaney. “You owe me, Sorensson,” she said.
“Less than you owe me,” I replied.
“Suzanne Moore!” Mrs. Mulvaney said. “Such language is inappropriate.”
Mr. Zacharias trailed behind Mrs. Mulvaney and glanced down at the smashed memory card. He was probably assuming that Suzanne had taken nude pics of me in the bathroom. Mrs. Mulvaney had missed my move with the memory card. She was too busy organizing and ordering, shooing people this way and that. Suzanne and I simply glared at each other.
“She wrecked my messenger,” Suzanne said. “She did it on purpose.”
Mrs. Mulvaney looked at me.
“I didn’t wreck it. I just thought it was mine.”
Our excuses were so thin and so lame that even Mrs. Mulvaney knew that they were only a fraction of the truth. “You have it back, though,” she said to Suzanne.
Suzanne nodded. “But she owes me.” She mouthed the word then: freak.
I smiled my confident dragon smile, liking that she shivered just a bit.
“All right, everyone. Get to class,” Mrs. Mulvaney said. She pointed at me. “You’re coming down to the principal’s office, Zoë.” Suzanne only had time to smirk before Mrs. Mulvaney pointed at her. “And so are you, Suzanne. Let’s get this argument sorted out, girls.”
We were walking down the hall when Meagan came to my side. She handed me my bag, and I knew from the weight of it that she’d hidden Skuld’s shears inside. “Your messenger is in the side pocket,” she said, slanting a glance at Mrs. Mulvaney.
I made a show of checking, then feigned relief. “How weird. I never put it there before. Thanks, Meagan!”
“An honest mistake, then,” Mrs. Mulvaney said, a triumphant conclusion, but Suzanne snorted.
And I looked back to see Derek scooping up the smashed bits of memory card. I flashed him a smile of gratitude. Jessica was standing beside him, back in her usual sloppy clothes, but looking much more serene. This was the alliance in action, each of us guarding one another’s backs and succeeding as a team.
I should have known it couldn’t last.
THEY SEPARATED US TO GET our stories without collaboration.
I insisted that Suzanne had bumped into me and I thought she’d taken my messenger, although, gosh, I couldn’t imagine why she would play such a trick on me.
I have no idea what Suzanne told them, but the interrogation team went back and forth between us for a good twenty minutes. Then they had to confer with each other for another twenty. Then they decided to call our parents. They’d call Meagan’s mom about me, since my parents were away, and I wasn’t too worried about Mrs. Jameson. Worst case, I could beguile her. Suzanne pitched a fit about this decision, though. Apparently she was worried about having her freedom limited right before the Valentine’s Day dance.
It took them another fifteen minutes to reason with her and explain that they were doing this for her own good. Suzanne wasn’t buying it, but her attitude gave me some time alone in my designated corner: the principal’s office. The office had windows on all sides, even the door, like it was command control—or a lookout tower. This worked for me, because I could see everything that was going on and, thanks to my Pyr senses, hear it, too.
What was the deal with the spell light surrounding Suzanne and her friends? I thought I had seen some the day before around Trish and Yvonne, then later with Trevor in the parking lot. Were they being targeted by the ShadowEaters? Or was Trevor up to something?
Suzanne and her cronies were all human, with no shifter powers and no spellsinging powers—at least not that I knew of. While they certainly thought themselves special, I couldn’t see what the ShadowEaters would want with them.
I knew I wasn’t imagining the spell light, though. It had to be Trevor’s doing, but I couldn’t figure out his scheme. It was a puzzle.
“Mr. Sorensson is waiting on two,” the principal’s secretary said from the reception area.
“Thank you.” The principal came into her office, shut the door behind her, and picked up the desk phone. She looked pretty grim. She pushed for the second line, while I sat there with my mouth hanging open.
They’d called my parents.
In the Caribbean.
Why hadn’t I guessed that would happen?
And welcome to the inner circle of hell. Remember that my dad is a dragon shifter—he can supply the fire, if not the brimstone, on demand.
I doubted this exchange would end well.
I OFFICIALLY LISTENED TO ONE side of the conversation, eavesdropping shamelessly and secretly on the other side.
The principal’s tone had that mix of honeyed sweetness and iron will that characterized all of my dealings with her. (Probably everyone’s dealings with her, come to think of it. She is not someone you would ask for a hug.) “I’m very sorry to trouble you on your vacation, Mr. Sorensson, but there has been an incident at the school and I knew you’d want to know about it.”
My father made conciliatory noises.
She discussed the incident in question, distaste in every syllable she uttered.
My father made sympathetic and faintly outraged comments, which only encouraged her. He didn’t defend me, not one iota. Between the two of them, I was judged and convicted in a matter of moments. The principal repeated most of her points, seeming to enjoy her moral triumph, then handed me the phone.
I stared at the receiver and gulped. All I had to do was ace a math test, check in at regular intervals with Muriel, find the NightBlade, banish the ShadowEaters, and persuade my dad that I shouldn’t be on his Incinerate Now list.
No pressure.
IT IS SOME KIND OF cosmic joke that when everything seems to be going to hell, the most unlikely things come easily.
My dad doesn’t like me drawing attention to myself for any reason. It makes him think of dragons being nearly hunted to extinction in the Middle Ages, and generally moves him into high-octane, take-no-prisoners, Protective Parent mode.
This is much worse with a dragon dad. Just so you know. I know because we’ve been there and done that.
Would I be grounded?
Exiled?
Roasted?
The principal’s eyes narrowed as she wa
tched me.
I decided to take the initiative and grovel for mercy. “I’m really sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to get into trouble.…”
“We shall have to talk about this when your mother and I get home!” he shouted sharply, and I winced. “You had better behave yourself for the next week, Zoë. Frankly, I expected better of you, and if one more thing happens while your mother and I are away, you will be…”
The principal smiled with satisfaction, then left me in the office alone.
My dad stopped in midtirade. “Is she gone?” he asked, his voice low and silky. Conspiratorial.
“Yes,” I said carefully.
“You were caught,” my father said easily, as if we were talking about my sneaking a granola bar before dinner. His tone had changed completely and I didn’t trust it one bit. He was softening me up, faking me out before he went for the kill. I had broken the Covenant again, after all.
I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yes.” I swallowed.
“Excellent choice,” he said. “Almost intuitive in its speed, which is always the key to containing any incident in which you are revealed. Did you destroy the memory card in the messenger?”
I straightened. “Yes.”
“Very good. I assume that you had a good reason for shifting as you did, and that it was unavoidable?”
“Yes.”
“Also that you cannot tell me about the details now?”
I glanced at the principal hovering outside her office door. “Not really, no.”
My dad mused for a minute while I sat blinking in astonishment that he wasn’t roaring at me. “It’s entirely possible that no one will believe this Suzanne person this time, either, but for the sake of insurance, if you can be alone with her, it might be wise to beguile her. As soon as possible.”
I had to fight my smile of triumph. The principal was still lurking. “Yes, Dad. As soon as possible.”
“And I think a reward is in order for your deft handling of an unavoidable breach of the Covenant. What do you say to having your own car?”
“What?” I asked, barely daring to breathe.
“Your mom wants a new car. You can have the Toyota. I’ll pay the insurance, but all other costs will be yours to cover. Deal?”
Blazing the Trail: The Dragon Diaries Page 16