Crescendo

by Becca Fitzpatrick

Page 42

  “Get out of there!” she hissed in a panicked undertone.

  “Scott called again and asked for directions to the warehouse, but I didn’t know which warehouse you told him. I sort of stalled but I didn’t know which warehouse you told him. I sort of stalled and said I was only the girlfriend, and I didn’t know where the band held its auditions. He asked which warehouse they practiced at, and I said I didn’t know that, either. The good news is, he hung up, so I didn’t have to lie my way into a bigger hole.

  The bad news is, he’s on his way home. Right now. ”

  “How much time do I have?”

  “Since he already flew past here at about a hundred miles per hour, I’d guess a minute. Or less. ”

  “Vee!”

  “Don’t blame me—you’re the one who wasn’t answering your phone!”

  “Chase him down and stal for time. I need two more minutes. ”

  “Chase him down? How? The Neon has a flat. ”

  “With your own two feet!”

  “You mean exercise?”

  Cradling the phone under my chin, I found a scrap of paper in my handbag and hunted through Scott’s desk for a pen. “It’s less than a fourth of a mile. That’s one lap around the track. Go! ”

  “What do I say when I catch him?”

  “This is what spies do—they improvise. You’ll think of something. I have to go. ” I broke the connection.

  Where were all the pens? How could Scott have a desk with no pens, no pencils? Finally I found one in my bag and scribbled a quick note on the scrap of paper. I slid the paper under the hot dog.

  Outside, I heard the Mustang roar into the complex’s parking lot.

  I crossed to the closet and climbed up a second time. I was stretched on my tiptoes, stabbing at the box with the hanger.

  The front door slammed.

  “Scott?” I heard Mrs. Parnel say from the kitchen. “What are you doing back so soon?”

  I got the hook part of the hanger under the lip of the lid and coaxed it out of the compartment. Once I had it halfway out, gravity did the rest. The box dropped into my hands. I’d just shoved it inside my bag and one-armed the chair back to its place at the desk, when the bedroom door smacked open.

  Scott’s eyes found me in an instant. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to come back so fast,” I stammered.

  “The audition was fake, wasn’t it?”

  “I—”

  “You wanted me out of the apartment. ” He crossed to me in two steps and took my arm, giving me a rough shake. “You made a big mistake coming here. ”

  Mrs. Parnel moved into the doorway. “What’s the matter, Scott? For heaven’s sake, let her go! She came by to pick up the sheet music you forgot. ”

  “She’s lying. I didn’t forget any sheet music. ” Mrs. Parnel looked at me. “Is that true?”

  “I lied,” I confessed shakily. I swallowed, trying to inject a measure of calm into my voice. “The thing is, I really wanted to ask Scott to the Summer Solstice party at Delphic, but I couldn’t ask Scott to the Summer Solstice party at Delphic, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it in person. This is really awkward. ” I walked to the desk and offered him the hot dog along with the scrap of paper I’d scribbled the note on.

  “‘Don’t be a wiener,’” Scott read. “‘Go to Summer Solstice with me. ’”

  “Well? What do you think?” I tried to hold a smile. “Do you want to be a wiener or not?”

  Scott looked from the note to the hot dog to me. “What?”

  “Well, isn’t that the cutest thing ever,” Mrs. Parnel chimed in.

  “You don’t want to be a wiener, do you, Scott?”

  “Give us a minute, Mom?”

  “Is Summer Solstice a dress-up party?” Mrs. Parnel asked.

  “Like a dance? I could make a reservation at Todd’s Tuxes—”

  “Mom. ”

  “Oh. Right. I’ll just be in the kitchen. Nora, I’ve got to hand it to you. I had no idea you were up here planting an invite to the party. I really thought you were picking up sheet music. Very clever. ” She winked, then backed out, pulling the door shut behind her.

  I was left alone with Scott, and all my relief scattered.

  “What are you really doing here?” Scott repeated, his voice significantly darker.

  “I told you—”

  “Not buying it. ” His eyes flicked beyond me, surveying the room. “What did you touch?”

  “I came by to give you the hot dog, I swear. I looked in the desk for a pen to write the wiener note, but that’s it. ” Scott strode to the desk, pulled out each drawer, and sifted through the contents. “I know you’re lying. ” I backed toward the door. “You know what? Keep the hot dog, but forget about Summer Solstice. I was just trying to be nice. I was trying to make up for the other night, because I felt responsible for your face getting smashed. Forget I said anything. ”

  He assessed me in silence. I had no idea if he’d bought my act, but I didn’t care. The only thought running through my mind was of getting out.

  “I’ve got my eye on you,” he said at last, in a tone I found to be startlingly threatening. I’d never seen Scott so icily hostile.

  “Think about that. Every time you think you’re alone, think again.

  I’m watching you. If I ever catch you in my room again, you’re dead. We all clear?”

  I swallowed. “Crystal. ”

  On my way out, I passed Mrs. Parnel standing near the fireplace, drinking a glass of iced tea. She took a swig, set the glass on the mantel, and flagged me down.

  “Scott is quite the boy, isn’t he?” she said.

  “That’s one way of putting it. ”

  “I bet you asked him to the party early because you knew all the other girls would race to get in line if you didn’t act fast. ” Summer Solstice was tomorrow night, and everyone going already had dates. Unable to tell this to Mrs. Parnell, I opted for a smile. She could interpret it however she wanted.

  “Do I need to get him fitted for a tux?” she asked.

  “Actually, the party is really casual. Jeans and a shirt are

  “Actually, the party is really casual. Jeans and a shirt are fine. ” I’d let Scott break the news to her that we were no longer going together.

  Her face fell slightly. “Well, there’s always homecoming. I don’t suppose you’re planning to ask him to homecoming?”

  “I really haven’t thought about it yet. And anyway, Scott might not want to go with me. ”

  “Don’t be silly! You and Scott go way back. He’s crazy about you. ”

  Or crazy, period.

  “I have to go, Mrs. Parnell. It was great seeing you again. ”

  “Drive safely!” she called, giving me a finger wave.

  I met Vee outside in the parking lot. She was hunched over, fists pressed into her knees, sucking air. A splotch of sweat stained the back of her shirt.

  “Nice decoy work,” I said.

  She looked up, her face pink as a Christmas ham. “You ever try chasing down a car?” she gasped.

  “I’ll one-up you. I gave Scott my hot dog and asked if he’d go to Summer Solstice with me. ”

  “What does the hot dog have to do with anything?”

  “I said he’d be a wiener if he didn’t go with me. ” Vee wheezed laughter. “I’d have run harder had I known I’d get to see you call him a wiener. ”

  Forty-five minutes later, Vee’s dad had called AAA and had the Neon towed back onto the road and dropped me off in front of the farmhouse. I didn’t waste any time clearing off the kitchen table and shaking Scott’s shoe box out of my handbag. Multiple layers of duct tape were wrapped around the box, nearly a quarter of an inch thick. Whatever Scott was hiding, he didn’t want the rest of the world finding it.

  I sawed through the tape with a steak knife. I freed the lid, set it aside, and peered into the box. A plain white tube sock la
y innocently at the bottom.

  I stared at the sock, feeling my heart drop with disappointment. Then I frowned. I stretched the sock open just wide enough to look inside. My knees went soft.

  Inside was a ring. One of the Black Hand’s rings.

  CHAPTER 19

  I STARED AT THE RING BLANKLY. I COULD HARDLY CONTAIN my thoughts.

  Two rings? I didn’t know what it meant. Clearly the Black Hand had more than one ring, but why did Scott have one? And why had he gone to the trouble of hiding it in a secret compartment in his wall?

  And why, if he was so ashamed of the branding on his chest, was he holding on to the ring that presumably had given it to him?

  In my bedroom, I dug my cell o out of the closet and stowed Scott’s ring in the zippered music pouch, right next to its twin, the ring I’d received by envelope last week. I didn’t know how to make sense of it. I’d gone to Scott’s looking for answers, and was left feeling more confused than ever. I would have dwelt on the rings longer, maybe pieced together a few theories, but I was at a complete and utter loss.

  When the grandfather clock chimed midnight, I double-checked the door locks one last time and crawled into bed. I propped my pillows up, sat upright, and painted my fingernails midnight blue. After my fingernails, I moved on to my toenails. I turned on my iPod. I read several chapters in my chemistry text.

  I knew I couldn’t go forever without sleep, but I was determined to put it off as long as possible. I was terrified Patch would be waiting for me on the other side if I did.

  I hadn’t realized I’d fall en asleep until I woke to a strange scraping sound. I lay in bed, frozen, straining to hear the sound again and place it. The drapes were drawn, the room shadowy.

  I slipped out of bed and dared a look through the drapes. The backyard was still. Undisturbed. Deceptively peaceful.

  A low creak sounded downstairs. I grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand and opened my bedroom door just wide enough to peer out. The hall outside was clear, and I turned into it, my heart beating so hard against my ribs, I thought my chest might crack. I’d made it to the top of the stairs when the softest click alerted me that the knob on the front door was turning.

  The door opened, and a figure stepped cautiously into the dark foyer. Scott was in my house, standing fifteen feet away, at the base of the stairs. I steadied my grip on the cell phone, which was slick with sweat.

  “What are you doing here?” I called down to Scott.

  He jerked his head up, startled. He raised his hands level with his shoulders, showing he was harmless. “We need to talk. ”

  “The door was locked. How did you get in?” My voice was high, shaky.

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Scott was Nephilim— freakishly strong. I was almost positive that if I’d walked down to check the deadbolt, I would have found it damaged by the sheer strength of his hands.

  “Breaking and entering is ill egal,” I said.

  “So’s theft. You stole something that belongs to me. ”

  “So’s theft. You stole something that belongs to me. ” I moistened my lips. “You have one of the Black Hand’s rings. ”