“How do you think I snuck out to go to the Alumni house?” She presses the gas and the car lurches forward.
Emory’s hands fly out to clutch at the dash. “Slowly!”
She smirks at him out the side of her mouth. “I’m guessing I use the wheel to turn, right?”
It takes her about ten minutes to get a feel for the gas and brake, working them together to make the stop and accelerations smoother. I watch the spark of excitement return to her eyes when she starts turning down the old, faded parking aisles. She’s gorgeous like this, the fading evening sun casting a warm glow over her cheeks.
Even Emory seems to relax, watching her with a soft smile. “Hey, you’re doing good.” It’s patronizing, but Vandy takes it as it’s meant to be, shooting him a grin.
“Want to learn how to reverse?” I ask.
By the time she puts the car in park, it’s almost dark out. We all get out, trading seats, but Emory stops me around the front of the car, pressing a palm to my shoulder.
“So, maybe you were right before,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “I think this Devil stuff kind of got away from me.”
I watch him skeptically. “Yeah?”
He nods. “I have to remember why we’re doing this. This isn’t about being cool or popular. It’s about giving Vandy something to hold onto next year.” He looks over to where she’s kicked back in the passenger seat, sliding my sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “She should have stuff like this. And I know it’s better to do it while I’m still here, where I can watch over her, be a part of it.” He finally meets my gaze, finishing, “I might need someone to keep reminding me of that.”
Vandy calls out, “Guys!” She’s poking her head out of the window, hand raised in the air. “Not to interrupt this touching bro-ment you’ve got going on, but I have to be home in ten minutes.”
I bury a playful punch into Emory’s shoulder. “Will do,” I promise, jogging back to the driver’s seat.
I give Vandy a wicked smile when I get behind the wheel, wishing she wasn’t wearing those sunglasses so I could see the way her eyes glaze over when I do. For the first time, I begin feeling a little hope. It’ll take time, but maybe Emory won’t be so hard to convince, after all.
29
Vandy
“Afton and Aubrey, you’re in charge of supplies. No one will think twice about the two of you carrying around a lot of red and black on Homecoming Week.” Emory turns. “Elana, you’re on logo design. Caroline, we need your tech savvy. Sebastian…”
My brother continues giving out orders, and it’s weird seeing him like this. Commanding, organized, assured. He’s captain of the football team, so most of these guys are probably used to it, but me? I’m used to sitting at the dinner table next to the guy who uses his bread as a napkin and then eats it. But here, he effortlessly orchestrates where and when we’re pulling off this epic prank for the fundraiser.
I look down at the black card that had appeared in our lockers four hours ago.
A Devil should know how to make an entrance. You will gather at the ninth hour to announce your presence. Consider this your homecoming.
“All men speak in bitter disapproval of the Devil, but they do it reverently, not flippantly.”
Elvatio Infernum
I’ve barely heard a word of what Emory’s saying, however. I’m sitting in the middle of the couch, Sebastian on one side, Reyn on the other. His knee, thigh, or arm occasionally touches mine, and it’s perfectly benign. Innocent. But every single nerve in my body feels each touch like it’s the Fourth of July.
Between school, Devil meetings, and my evening driving lessons—five so far, and I even got to practice on the neighborhood roads last time—it seems like Reyn and I spend more time in the company of Emory than alone with each other. Every now and then, he comes through my window, sometimes to sleep over, but it’s frustratingly void of anything but light kissing and sleep. Ever since Emory tried to barge in that one time, we’re too skittish to push it.
My gaze keeps wandering to Reyn’s forearm. He’s got his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and sometimes he’ll shift or reach forward and I can watch the corded muscles there flex and tighten.
I tear my eyes away and try to focus, not just for my role in the prank, but also because it’s the ultimate rite. This will be, as the card says, our homecoming. Our public announcement that the Devils are not dead, but alive and active.
Emory suddenly turns to me. “V, you’ll be in charge of alibis.”
“Uh,” I stutter, brain rushing to catch up. Damn Reyn and his distracting forearms. “Wait. How exactly am I supposed to alibi twelve people?”
“With your position on the newspaper. You’re going to provide documentation that we’re all at the dance while the prank goes down.” He mimes pressing a shutter on a camera. “Snap, snap.”
Well, that sounds easier said than done.
Emory’s already onto the next thing. “Reyn, you’ll be the one who gets us