my best. It’s not exactly easy when everything hurts when I run.
Or worse, everything hurts when I breathe.
Maybe that’s why I don’t remember until I’m halfway down the ramp. “Hold on a minute,” I tell Hudson as I careen to a stop.
“There’s no time to wait, Grace!” He shoots me an impatient look. “You’ve got to get on the field.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think I can afford to get on the field without doing this, so they’re all just going to have to wait a little bit longer, whether they want to or not.”
I unzip the front pocket of my backpack and take out the small pouch I have hidden in the secret compartment at the back of it. I know it was a risk to bring these things with me to the cave of the Unkillable Beast, but I was afraid I might get injured while I was there—or worse. And if that happened, I wanted the others to have a way to get Hudson out of my head.
I didn’t want him to have to die with me.
Turns out, I wasn’t the one who died in that cave. And I will remember Xavier and regret his loss for the rest of my life—however long or short that might be. But I’m not about to go into another dangerous situation, one that can turn deadly at any moment, and not take care of everything—everyone—I can. Which means there is no other time. I have to do this now.
I open the pouch and slowly, carefully take out each of the four items inside it, one by one.
Hudson’s eyes go huge as he realizes what I’m doing. “You can’t do this right now,” he tells me, backing away from me in such a hurry that he nearly trips over his own feet—and probably would have if he was actually in his own body. “There are other, more important things for you to—”
“I might die.” Three little words, but they shut him right up, his mouth slamming closed fast and tight, even as his eyes implore me to stop talking. To not say what we both know I’m going to say.
But I can’t give him that, not now when there’s so very much on the line.
“Jokes about shoving the ball down Cole’s snout notwithstanding,” I continue, “we both know things could go really wrong in there today. Which means there might not be another time to do this. Ever. I know what I’m supposed to do—the Bloodletter told me—but can you help me? Make sure I don’t mess it up?”
“This isn’t what you need to be worrying about right now, Grace. You need to focus. Plus, if I’m still in your head, maybe I can help you. Maybe I can—”
“Die with me,” I finish the sentence with a firm shake of my head. “I know you like to do things your way, but you don’t get a vote on this. One way or the other, I’m getting you out of my head, so you can either help me or you can risk ending up haunting the hallways as Katmere Academy’s very first ghost.”
I throw my hands up in the air in a “what you going to do?” kind of shrug. “It’s your choice.”
“One, I wouldn’t be the first ghost at Katmere Academy. And second, the ghost thing doesn’t really work like that anyway.”
“And you know this because?” I ask, brows arched.
“I was dead…?” He pauses. “Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?” That’s news to me. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll tell you once you go in there and kick Cole’s whiny little ass,” he answers with his trademark smirk. “So don’t screw it up.”
“Not planning on it,” I say, “but you know. Shit happens.”
“It does,” he agrees, face pensive and eyes sad.
I’m pretty sure this is Hudson’s version of a sad puppy dog face—or as close as he gets to it—and I am not going to fall victim to it. There’s too much on the line.
So instead of looking at him, I crouch down and place the four items the way the Bloodletter told me to: bloodstone in the north position, dragon bone in the south, werewolf eyetooth in the west, and witch athame in the east, all arranged in a circle large enough for two people to stand in.
Once he realizes I’m not going to change my mind, I can feel Hudson watching me with a somber face. But every time I glance up at him, the expression in his eyes is completely