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  A reason that put their safety at risk.

  What else could I do but believe her?

  Tonight, she held a stack of small cards—like index cards—in her hands. As she walked past the tables, she occasionally stopped and handed a card to one of the students at the table. And then she stepped forward, and she handed one to me.

  “Instructions for your studio art class,” she said.

  I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I let it out again. I’d been fighting tunnel-crawlers, but it was the principal who really tied my stomach in knots. I’m not sure what that said about me.

  I took the card from her. It was a schedule for the studio classes, which were supposed to start tomorrow. I’d have class in the “surplus building.” Didn’t that sound glamorous?

  I glanced up again. Foley stayed at the edge of the table for a moment, the rest of her cards in hand, looking down at me. I waited for her to speak, but she stayed silent. After a nod, she moved along to the next table.

  “That was weird,” Scout said. “What did she give you?”

  I flipped the card her way so she could see it.

  “Huh. Looks like you’ve found your creative outlet.”

  I’d only just stuffed the card into my notebook when noise erupted across the room. We all looked over to see Veronica standing at a table, her chair now on the floor, her face flushed and eyes pink. M.K., arms crossed over her chest, stared back, a single eyebrow arched at Veronica.

  “Things just went nuclear,” Collette muttered.

  “You are a witch,” Veronica hissed out, then stepped over the chair and ran to the door.

  You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall.

  M.K. rolled her eyes and leaned toward the girl beside her, gossiping together while one of her best friends ran away from her. A dragon lady moved to the table and picked up the chair Veronica had knocked over. A low rumble of whispering began to move across the room.

  “At least that’s over with,” Colette said. “Can we all get back to studying now?”

  Scout and I exchanged a glance, and I read the same thoughts in her face that I had in mine: Could it really be that easy?

  A few hours later we were back in the tunnels, Scout and I making our way back to the arched wooden door to Enclave Three, its status as an Adept HQ marked by the “3” above the door and the symbol on the door—the letter Y inside a circle, a symbol Scout had told me could be seen across the city of Chicago. It was the mark of an Adept.

  Sure, putting symbols on buildings and bridges across the city wasn’t exactly in line with the Adepts’ idea of keeping their work under the radar. On the other hand, I got the feeling the symbols were a kind of reminder that they were here. That they fought the good fight, even if no one else knew about the war.

  Scout opened the door, and the Junior Varsity Adepts of Enclave Three looked toward us: Michael Garcia, Jason Shepherd, Jill and Jamie, Riley, and Paul Truman. Each of them had their own unique magical talent. Michael was a reader, which meant he could “read” the history of a building just by touching it. Jamie and Jill were the elemental witches. Jamie could manipulate fire, and Jill could manipulate ice. Paul was a warrior. His magic gave him the ability to adapt his fighting style to whatever man or monster faced him. Paul was tall with skin like rich coffee. He was also cute and lanky enough that it was hard to imagine him in some kind of ferocious battle, but the determination in his eyes gave him away. As lanky as he was, he may not ultimately have the strength to beat that monster, but his magic always gave him a fighting chance.

  We walked into the giant room—big, vaulted ceiling and tile-covered walls—toward Jill and Jamie, who stood apart from the guys. But that didn’t stop Jason from winking at me, or Michael from making doe eyes at Scout. She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.

  “What’s up, Adepts?” Scout asked.

  “Just waiting for the head honcho to get started,” Jill said, nodding toward Daniel.

  Daniel was our new leader, a guy sent down from the bigwigs to keep an eye on Katie and Smith. Daniel, let’s say, was easy on the eyes. He was tall and blond, with strong shoulders, blue eyes, and one of those chin dimples. He was talking to Katie, who was cheerleader-cute and very petite, and Smith, an emo-wannabe with greasy hair and clothes that were always a couple of sizes too tight. Katie and Smith were the Varsity Adepts who’d refused to send someone to rescue Scout; that was why Daniel had replaced them. I’d been the one begging them to go after her, and I’d seen the stubborn looks on their faces when they’d said no. That was the kind of thing that made me question exactly who the “good guys” were. I was still wary of them.

  Scout smiled at Daniel with big, wide eyes. “I’d be happy to help out Daniel with any special projects he has in mind.”

  I rolled mine. “I’m guessing he’s not going to take you up on that offer since he’s four years older than you. And in college.”

  “Don’t rain on my parade. I know he’s a little out of my league, but he’s just kind of . . . dreamy, don’t you think?”

  “He’s not bad,” I allowed, “in a gorgeous, totally platonic, ‘Let’s get this magical show on the road’ kind of way.”

  “You know those movies where the blond girl walks by—and time slows down? She swings her hair back and forth”—Scout gave me a demonstration, her short hair hardly moving as she shook her head—“and all the guys stare. I feel like Daniel could pull that off.”

  “He could pull off staring?”

  “No—the time-slowing-down part. I mean, just watch him.”

  We were probably a pretty entertaining sight—four high school juniors, two of us in smokin’-hot plaid uniforms, staring down a college sophomore. But she really did have a point. Daniel walked across the room to talk to Smith, and there was something about the way he moved—like he wasn’t just walking, but making a statement.

  Daniel also had swagger.

  “Okay, he’s impressive,” Jamie said.

  “I so told you.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Michael’s head popped between us, gaze shifting left and right as he waited for details.

  “None of your beeswax, Garcia.”

  I could see the sting of defeat in his eyes, but he kept a smile on his face. “You know what you need?”

  Ever so slowly, Scout turned her head to look at him, one eyebrow arched. Her expression was fierce. “What?”

  “You need a man who respects you. Who treats you like his equal.”

  Not bad, I thought. But Scout wasn’t buying. Sure, there was a little surprise in her eyes, but that was all she gave back to him.

  She put a hand on his arm. “The problem, Garcia, is that no one’s my equal. I’m the most ass-kickingest spellbinder in Chicago.”

  I rolled my eyes, but really didn’t have much reason to disagree.

  Before Michael could retort, Daniel clapped his hands together. “All right, kids. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  We all clustered together, the Junior Varsity members of Enclave Three. Katie and Smith—still Adepts but not quite like us—stood a little farther away. They both looked miffed to have been replaced. Katie’s arms were crossed over her chest as she glared daggers at Daniel, while Smith whipped his head to the side to throw his bangs out of his eyes. Given how many times I’d seen him do that in the last couple of weeks or so, I almost volunteered to grab scissors from my room.

  “First matter of business,” Daniel said. “Tell me what you saw last night.”

  Scout popped a hand into the air. “Things. Big, nasty, naked, crawly things. They had pointy teeth, and they moved weird.”

  “Like a school of fish,” I put in.

  “Like barracudas,” Jason put in. “We found this slime in one of the corridors near St. Sophia’s, and next thing you know they were coming at us. It took a dose of firespell, a protection circle, and”—he glanced at Scout—“what did you call it?”
r />   “A flutterby spell,” Scout offered.

  “A flutterby spell to take them out.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “It was probably just Reapers.”

  “No,” Scout said, her fierce expression not allowing argument. “First, they were naked. Second, they weren’t Reapers or trolls or anything else we’ve seen before. They were something new. Something outside my Grimoire —I spent study hall today looking it up.”

  I held up my right hand. “She did. I totally saw her reading.”

  “They looked like something that walked straight off Dr. Moreau’s island,” Jason added.

  Paul crossed his arms over his head. “And you’re sure they weren’t sewer rats? Those things can go nuclear after a while.”

  “Only if rats grow to five feet tall and began to walk upright. Well, mostly upright.” She bumped Michael with an elbow. “Show ’em what you got.”

  Michael pulled the cell phone from his pocket, tapped around for a few seconds, and handed it to Daniel.

  Smith peeked over Daniel’s shoulder to look. It was very satisfying to watch that smug expression fall right off his face. “What is that?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Daniel said, frowning down at the phone, then rotating it to get a different perspective. “Where were you exactly?”

  “One of the utility tunnels,” Jason said. “Maybe ten or twelve corridors from St. Sophia’s?” He looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

  “And the slime?” Daniel asked.

  “Mostly floor,” Michael said, “but it wasn’t contained there.”

  “There was a lot of it,” Scout confirmed.

  Frowning, Daniel ran his hands through his hair. Beside me, Scout actually sighed.

  “This isn’t the first time we’ve seen the slime,” Daniel said.

  The room went silent.

  “Excuse me?” Scout said. “This isn’t the first time? There’ve been others, and no one bothered to tell us?”

  Even Katie and Smith looked surprised. All eyes turned to Daniel.

  “It was only slime,” he said, “and it was just last week. We had no idea what it was or where it came from. There were no signs of any new creatures—just the stuff. And we’ve seen slime before.”

  There were reluctant nods of agreement.

  “Ectoplasmic slime,” Michael began to rattle off, “auric slime, that half-fish thingy that slimed the tourist boat at Navy Pier, that time the Reaper used the allergy spell and Adepts were all dripping snot like water all over the city—”

  “Point made,” Daniel said, holding up a hand. “And now that we know what it is—and where it’s coming from—it’s time do something a little different.”

  Just like he’d scripted it, a knock sounded at the Enclave door.

  Katie hustled over, turning the handle and using her small cheerleadery stature to pull open the door.

  Two girls stood in the doorway. One was tall with whiskey brown eyes and cocoa-kissed skin, a cloud of dark hair exploding from a slick ponytail. There was something ethereal about her, and something slightly vacant in her expression.

  The second girl was shorter, a petite blonde with a shaggy crop of pale, shoulder-length hair. She wore an outfit appropriate for a punk stuck in Victorian England: short poofy black skirt; knee-high black boots; a locket necklace; and a thin, ribbed gray T-shirt beneath a complicated black leather jacket that bore panels of thick black fur. In her black-gloved hands was an old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag.

  “Yowsers,” Michael muttered, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Scout.

  Daniel waved them in, and the girls stepped inside. Katie closed the door behind them.

  “Enclave Three,” Daniel said. “Meet Naya Fletcher—”

  The taller girl offered a wave.

  “—and Bailey Walker.”

  “I go by Detroit,” the blonde corrected, offering a crisp salute.

  “Oh, I’m going to like this one,” Scout murmured with a grin. “She’s got sass. Kind of like you, Parker.”

  “I am quite sassy,” I agreed.

  “Detroit,” Daniel corrected, then gestured toward Naya. “Naya is a caller. For the newbies among us, that means she speaks to the recently deceased.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Ghosts?”

  Naya lifted a shoulder. “That’s how they’re generally known by the public, but they prefer ‘recently deceased.’ Calling them ‘ghosts’ makes it sound like they’re a different species. Like vamps or werewolves or the fey. They’re still human. They’re just . . . well . . . less breathy than we are.”

  “And Detroit is a machinist.”

  There were mumbled sounds of awe around the room. Being a “machinist” didn’t mean anything to me, but it clearly meant something to the rest of the Adepts.

  “That means she gadgets,” Scout whispered.

  “Detroit and Naya have seen the slime in other tunnels,” Daniel explained. “As you know, Enclave Two is an enclave of information, of technology. They aren’t used to battling it out with Reapers.”

  When he paused, I knew exactly where this was heading. My stomach sank.

  “Tonight,” he continued, “you’ll be escorting them out to determine if their slime is our slime—”

  “And if there are more creatures out there,” Katie added.

  The Enclave went silent.

  “Detroit has mapped out a passage from here to their slime spot,” Daniel continued, “so she and Naya will play compass on this one. Jill, Jamie, and Paul—take point and travel in front of them. Once you get to the halfway point, you’ll stop there to give everyone a green zone so they can get back. Michael will do what reading he can. Lily and Jason are on offense if necessary.”

  We waited for more, but Daniel didn’t say anything else.

  Scout and I exchanged a glance. He hadn’t said her name.

  “What about me?” she asked.

  Daniel looked at her for a few seconds, then turned back to Detroit and Naya. “Ladies, if you’ll give us just a minute, I’d like to talk to Enclave Three.”

  They nodded, then disappeared out the door. When it shut behind them, all eyes turned to Daniel.

  “It’s your decision,” he told Scout, “but I’d like you to consider sitting out for this one.”

  The room went silent.

  “Sitting out?” she asked.

  “You’ve had a pretty rough go of it lately, and last night took a lot out of you—physically, magically, emotionally. Enclave Three’s job will be to protect Enclave Two if the creatures pop up, not to—”

  “Oh, no,” Scout said, holding up a hand. “You are not going to go there. Varsity or not, you are not going to suggest that I can’t go on a mission because my team-mates, my Adepts, don’t have time to babysit me.”

  I grimaced on Daniel’s behalf.

  “Scout, let’s be reasonable—”

  “I am being reasonable,” she said, picking up her messenger bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “These people rescued me. They risked getting sucked dry by Reapers and they went to the sanctuary and they rescued me. No mother-trucking way are they going out there without me at their back. Not going to happen.”

  Michael took a step forward to stand behind Scout. “She doesn’t go, I don’t go. And you know what I can do at the place.”

  There was silence for a moment as Daniel considered their position. Finally, he looked at Scout. “You’re ready?”

  “I’m ready,” she confirmed.

  “Okay,” he said. “Then get to it.”

  Everyone gathered up their bags and supplies and headed for the door—and the Adepts waiting for us outside.

  I glanced back at Daniel, saw a sneaky smile on his face. I realized he’d done it on purpose—baited her on purpose—in order to rile her up, to get her ready to face whatever we might find in the tunnels.

  No wonder he was sent in to supervise Katie and Smith. He was good. Sneaky, sure, but good.

  Daniel caug
ht my glance and nodded at me, then pointed at the door. “Get to it, Lily.”

  I got.

  6

  There might have been sun outside, but the tunnels were still cold and damp.

  “Do you ever wish you were an Adept in Miami or Tahiti?” I whispered to Scout, zipping up the hoodie I’d pulled over a St. Sophia’s oxford shirt.

  “You mean instead of this moist, cold Midwestern underbelly?”

  I hopped over the other side of the rail to avoid a puddle of rusty liquid. “Something like that, yeah.”

  Since I’d given him an opening, Michael snuck between me and Scout, then slung an arm over my shoulder. “You know, if you’d been in Miami, you wouldn’t have met us.”

  Scout rolled her eyes. “And what a crime that would have been.”

  “Whatever. You know you love me.”

  “I beg to differ, Garcia.”

  He faked a smile, but it was easy to tell he’d been hurt. Stung, he moved back to walk alongside Jason.

  “You’re being kind of growly with Michael,” I whispered to Scout when he was out of hearing range.

  “He’s being kind of annoying.”

  “He’s just being himself.”

  She rolled her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m just—I don’t know. Maybe Daniel was right and I’m not ready for this, you know? I mean, I did freak out last time.”

  “Maybe you should tell Michael that. Let him comfort you instead of pushing him away.”

  “No more daytime television for you, missy.”

  “Oh, my God. Did I just give you relationship advice?”

  “Yeppers.”

  “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

  “I knew you were teachable.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you guys always this chatty?” asked Detroit. She walked with determination, her arms crossed against the chill.