Charmfall (The Dark Elite 3)

Suddenly sick to my stomach, I shut the computer again. Had I done something awful? Had I trusted Sebastian too much?

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the kind of thing I could stash away and refuse to think about again. I had to tell someone. I had to tell Scout. And eventually, probably, I’d have to tell Jason and Daniel and the rest of Enclave. There was no avoiding it.

I flopped back on the bed. How did I get into messes like this? How did I end up in this bedroom in Chicago afraid to tell my new best friend that I might have accidentally given away details about our magical investigation to a guy who may or may not be totally evil . . . or who may or may not have told his cousin, the bad girl, that we were on her case.

I put my laptop back on the shelf in case I needed to run back into my room and flop on my bed in tears—or to hide from whatever Scout might throw at me.

I blew out a breath, and headed across the room.

Scout was organizing her new Gaslight Goods stuff when I opened the door. But when she looked back at me and saw the expression on my face, hers drooped.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I screwed up.”

She put her hands on her hips. “How did you do that?”

I closed her door behind me. “I called Sebastian to ask about the fairy tale. He hung up almost immediately—like the question freaked him out.”

“Or like he knew something about it?”

I nodded and took a seat on her bed. “Yeah. And I looked around on the Internet and maybe figured out why.”

Scout’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because his cousin—the one we saw outside—is Fayden Campbell.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s convenient.”

“That’s what I thought. I mean, he said she wasn’t a Reaper, but what are the odds? And here’s the thing—when he hung up, what if he went and called Fayden and warned her?”

“Warned her what? That you figured out her last name was Campbell? I mean, that’s really the only thing you’ve proved.”

I deflated a little. I mean, I didn’t want to put Adepts in danger, but I also kind of thought I’d been onto something. “I only told him that we’d heard about the fairy tale.”

“That’s my point—you didn’t tell him anything he couldn’t have found out from Kite. What you did find out is that he knows something. If that fairy tale didn’t mean something important to him, he wouldn’t have hung up. We just need to find out what that is.”

She patted me on the back. “You actually did good. This is nothing to freak out about. Now, the fact that you called Sebastian—that’s going to raise a few eyebrows.”

“Can’t the Enclave just think of me as a spy or a double agent or something? Making Sebastian think I’m a friend while actually using him for information?”

“Is that really what you’re doing?” Scout asked.

I didn’t have a good answer for that.

“I didn’t tell them about the time you met him in that Taco Terry’s,” she pointed out. I’d met Sebastian in the Mexican fast-food chain near St. Sophia’s over one lunch hour.

“But now you’re actually going to him for information. These people are putting their lives on the line just like you are, and I think it’s only fair that you tell them you have a source.” She shrugged. “It’s possible they won’t be really mad.”

“They?” I wondered. “Or Jason?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. You might want to think about a bribe.”

I made a face. “I got helpful information from Sebastian. I’m not going to feel bad about talking to him.”

She patted me on the shoulder. “Just keep telling yourself that, kid.”

When did things become so complicated?

Scout texted Daniel to arrange an Enclave meeting. I prepared myself mentally to make my confession about Sebastian, and then tried to put it out of my mind. I knew—or at least I thought I knew—I was doing the right thing by communicating with him. But I also knew there was a pretty good chance the others wouldn’t see it that way—some Adepts would be upset. There was no point in worrying about something that was guaranteed to happen.

In the meantime, I needed to get Veronica and Nicu together, as unfortunate as that assignment was.

Scout used Nicu’s business card to get his number, then called him to arrange a meeting. The rest was my responsibility—I had to get Veronica to Nicu. I figured the easiest way to do that was to simply invite her.

I found some off-white drawing paper among my art supplies and a really old calligraphy pen. We decided study hall was the best time to get Veronica to the meeting place without making the other brat packers completely suspicious. Amie wasn’t the type of girl to leave in the middle of a cram session, and Veronica probably wouldn’t even tell M.K.—not if she thought she was meeting a secret boy.

The trickier part was getting Scout and me out of study hall to follow her, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

“What, exactly, should I say on this note?” I asked, nibbling on the end of my pen. “How do you entice a brat packer to go to a secret meeting?”

“Promise them free makeup and Neiman Marcus gift cards?”

“I was hoping for something more poetic.”

“Ah,” Scout said, then cleared her throat and broke out the worst European guy accent I’d ever heard.

“Mizz Veeee-ronica,” she said. “I have dee love of you, greatly. You will meet me in dee night, and we will make dee beyoooteeful music.”

I just stared at her. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really into the whole romantic thing. Just keep it vague.”

That probably was for the best. I went with something simple.

Veronica—

I’m the one you’ve been waiting for. It’s time we meet. 8:15 tonight. Thorn Garden.

Yours Truly

Pretty romantic if you asked me, but not so romantic that it sounded, you know, stalkery.

I folded it up and wrote Veronica’s name on the outside. Then Scout and I waited until dinner started and slipped the note under the door to Veronica’s suite.

And then we waited.

* * *

The great hall was quiet and chilly, and most of the girls in St. Sophia’s wore sweaters or sweatshirts over their uniforms. With an elbow on the table, I sat with my chin in one hand, flicking my pencil against the table with the other.