Hexbound (The Dark Elite 2)

Lesley shrugged. “I’m done.”

“Already? We don’t have class again until next week.”

“I’m not running secret missions at night. I had time.” She turned on her heel and headed back into her room. “And now it’s time for practice,” she said and shut the door behind her.

You had to admire that kind of focus.

Since Amie’s room was empty and Lesley’s cello-playing made a pretty good soundtrack to creativity, I grabbed my sketchbook and started drawing. Sebastian might have interrupted my afternoon plans, but he wasn’t going to take over my evening.

13

Scout’s room was empty when I woke up the next morning. I showered and pulled on my plaid, grabbed my bag, and headed to the cafeteria. I found her at the end of a long table, surrounded by empty chairs. There was a tray in front of her, and a half-eaten muffin on the tray. A couple of notebooks were open beside it.

I plucked a box of chocolate milk and a carrot-raisin muffin from the buffet, then took the seat across from her. “You got an early start.”

She glanced up from the notebook. “Yeah. Sorry—was I supposed to wait for you?”

I pulled out a raisin from the muffin and dropped it on the tray. I liked carrots, but raisins were just weird. Like little wrinkly fruit pebbles. No, thank you.

“Well, we didn’t have a contract or blood oath or anything, but you usually wait for me. Should I ask what you’re working on, or is it secret, too?”

She blew out a breath. “Not secret. Just a spell.”

Three more raisins hit the deck. “I see,” I said, although I really didn’t. “How’s it coming along?”

“I’m not really sure.”

Since she wasn’t playing chatty, I finished cleaning out my muffin and downed the bit that remained. When the bell rang, we grabbed our books, dumped our trash, and headed out to pretend to be normal high school juniors.

I thought about Sebastian pretty much all morning long. I didn’t mean to; he just kept popping into my head. I felt pretty weird about that. I was talking to Jason, after all. And when I got a text message from Jason with the deets about our first official date, I felt that much worse.

“FOR OUR DATE SATURDAY—HOW ABOUT LUNCH?” he asked.

“LUNCH WORKS,” I texted back.

“ANY PREFS?” he asked.

I thought about it for a second, but decided I wasn’t picky. As long as we got out of St. Sophia’s, I’d be happy. “UR PICK,” I told him.

“IF I COULD, I’D PICK YOU,” he said. I swooned a little.

And speaking of secrets, since I’d been interrupted yesterday, I still had art studio homework and Sterling Research Foundation business. Mom and Dad business.

After morning classes, I invited Scout to head outside with me. She said no again, and since she was pretty well focused on whatever spell she was working on, she didn’t seem that worried about the fact that I was leaving her alone at lunch again. And this time, I really did plan to be alone. I put a couple of sketch pads and my watercolor kit into my bag, firmed up my courage, and headed out.

The sky outside was overcast, like a gray blanket had been tossed over the city. And because of the clouds, there weren’t any shadows. It made everything seem a little weird—a little flatter than before. The St. Sophia’s flag hung limply above the school, no wind to stir it up.

I started down the street, walking past the bank and slowing when I reached the STERLING RESEARCH FOUNDATION Sign. For a couple of minutes, I stood outside and made myself focus on the architecture. The shape of the windows. The lines of the building. The little details that the original architect had put into it. Because I really did have an assignment to do, I made myself think about shapes and shades, and not about the stuff that might lurk inside it.

The information.

But I was here, and I had a chance. I made a split-second decision, then brushed my fingers against the SRF sign, like that little touch could give me luck. And then I walked inside.

A bell rang when I pulled open the front door. The receptionist, who sat behind a long wooden desk, glanced up. She looked pretty young, with short, curly blond hair and blue eyes. The nameplate on her desk read LISA. She took in my plaid skirt and St. Sophia’s hoodie, then smiled kindly.

“Hi there. You must be from the school down the street?”

I nodded, walking slowly toward the desk so that I could get a sense of the reception area. Although the building was squat and old-school on the outside, the interior was bright and modern, with lots of sharp lines and edgy furniture. There was a closed door behind the reception area, and another one on the left side of the room behind an L-shaped sofa.

I reached the desk, then tugged on my satchel. “Yeah, I am. I’m Lily. I’m in an art studio, and we’re supposed to study a building in the neighborhood. Would it be okay if I draw yours?”

“Oh, sure, that’s fine.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I was snooping around or anything.” Although I totally am, I silently added.

“It’s no problem. I’m Lisa, so if anyone gives you any trouble, just find me, okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Thanks a lot.” I felt a prickle of guilt that she was being so nice. It’s not like I had bad intentions, but I wasn’t being exactly truthful, either.

After we exchanged a smile, I began walking to the front door. But then I stopped, and I didn’t know what I was going to say until the words were out of my mouth. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what kind of things do you research here?”

“Oh, we don’t actually do research. We’re a foundation—we sponsor other people’s research.”

Nerves lit through my stomach. I was getting closer, and I knew it. “Oh, yeah? That sounds cool.”

“It’s very interesting,” she agreed. “We fund scientific research projects all over the world.”

Of course they do, I thought, then smiled again. “Thanks again for your time.”

“Anytime,” she said, then looked over at her computer monitor again.

That was when Lisa’s phone rang. “Wow,” she said after she’d picked it up. “You finished faster than I thought you would. I’ll be right up to get it.” The handset went down, and she slid out of her chair and from behind her desk, then trotted to the stairs, where she disappeared through a second-floor door.

I glanced back at her desk.