the most part, but normally they wouldn’t be okay with full-on genocide unless it actually served them.”
“Damn, Macy, tell us how you really feel!” Hudson exclaims. Then adds to me, “What she said.”
I laugh a little bit at that, which leads to a questioning look from Macy. “Hudson approves of your summation,” I tell her.
“That’s because my summation is right-on. And his father is an asshole.” She gives me a look that speaks volumes. “Like father, like son, apparently.”
Hudson rolls his eyes but surprisingly has nothing to say in response. Which might actually be a first, now that I think about it. He does, however, sit up and lean against the side of my bed, then runs a hand through his short, tousled hair. I know he’s not really real—so why is he sleeping in just a pair of flannel pajama pants and no shirt? Did he take off his shirt, or am I just—inexplicably—choosing to imagine him without one?
And of course, he hears that stray thought and winks at me over one bare shoulder. “I’ll let you decide.”
I ignore the heat stinging my cheeks and focus on Macy.
“So why exactly does the fact that the Circle decided to pay us a not-so-auspicious visit mean that I have to get up at”—I glance at my phone—“dear God, five fifteen in the morning?”
“Because, apparently, they’ve called a before-school assembly. And that means we all have to be in the auditorium at six thirty in full dress uniform.”
“Full dress uniform? You mean the skirt, tie, and blazer?” I think I’ve worn the whole uniform only once the entire time I’ve been here.
“Not the blazer,” Macy says with an exaggerated sigh. “The robes.”
“Robes?” I look toward my empty closet. “There’s no robe in there.”
“No, but I have an extra—from when I was shorter, thankfully. Otherwise, you’d fall on your face.”
“So skirt, tie, robe?” I ask, making sure I’ve got it.
“Yeah.”
“Like graduation robe?” I ask, just to be clear. Because right now I’m kind of picturing a room full of students in fuzzy black bathrobes. Not that that would be a bad thing…
“More like ceremonial robes.” Macy sighs.
Which puts all my senses on red alert. “Not like human-sacrifice robes, right?”
Macy narrows her eyes at me. “No one’s going to sacrifice you, Grace.”
Easy for her to say. I tamp down the little spurt of annoyance and lead with humor instead. “Says the spider to the fly…”
Macy laughs, just as I intended her to. Which eggs me on. “I’m just saying, no one gets to criticize me for being skittish until they’ve had to fight off a homicidal bitch with talons through their arms, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and gaping wounds on their wrists and ankles from clawing their way out of shackles. On an altar. Surrounded by blood. In the dark. While drugged.”
Macy looks at me, completely deadpan, and says, “Well, who hasn’t? I mean, really.”
I burst out laughing, like full-on belly laughter, because the delivery was just too perfect. “Is that your way of telling me I’m being too much of a drama queen about the whole near-death-experience thing?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s my way of telling you that I would like nothing more than a chance to dropkick that bitch straight to hell a second time.” She crosses to her closet and pulls out two dark-purple robes. One she tosses on her bed and one she hands to me.
“It’s purple,” I tell her.
“Yeah,” she says.
“The robe is purple.”
She nods. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“I’m going to look like Barney if I put that on.”
She grins. “Welcome to Katmere Academy.” And then, while I’m still eyeing the giant purple monstrosity that is supposed to be my ceremonial robe, she steals the freaking bathroom right out from under me.
70
When the Devil
Comes Up
to Denali
I’ve been in auditoriums before. I mean, I am an American high school student. But nothing could prepare me for what the Katmere Academy auditorium looks like.
Huge, with ceilings that are probably close to thirty or forty feet high and creepy-looking carved spires everywhere, it looks more like a Gothic church than it does a meeting room for students.
Stained-glass windows depicting various paranormal scenes, check.
Carved black lancet arches hovering over every walkway, double check.
Elaborate and semi-creepy engravings on pretty much every available surface, triple check.
Seriously, I’m pretty sure the only thing missing is an altar.
In its place is a round stage in the center of the room, surrounded by hundreds of chairs in the same deep purple as our robes. So as the