Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,181

lights to the east. Suddenly, I’m thinking the bonfire was necessary. With nothing to light the way, she’ll need the point of reference to steer.

As I’m mulling it over, I see it. There’s a boat about a hundred yards to our left, rushing toward the shore. It’s a small boat, engine running, too far away to make out any details.

But not too far away to see that there’s nobody on it.

Over by the fire, someone laughs. Ansel strums out a chord and Emory releases an obnoxious burp. Someone jangles keys, opens a can of soda, sneezes, yelps against the cold of someone’s nose on their neck.

“Shut up,” I say, too quiet as I scan the distance. When Xavier barks out a laugh, I whirl around, roaring, “Everyone, shut the fuck up!” Mostly, they fall silent, even if they are all glaring at me. I turn back to the lake and strain my ears, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

“What is it?” Micha asks, standing to approach.

I shush him, but I can’t hear anything. The wind is too loud. The traffic, just across the trees, muddles everything up. I watch as the abandoned boat clumsily collides with the shore and sputters there, motionless.

“She’s in the water,” I realize.

“Who?” Micha asks, and then, louder, “Georgia’s in the water?!”

Hearing it said like that kicks me into motion.

I toe off my shoes and reach for my scarf, ripping it from my neck. Everyone’s standing up to come over and see what the fuss is about, but I’m already pounding down the dock, shedding my jacket and shirt as I go. I drop them at my feet, uncaring of where they land.

“Hey!” An arm grabs me, spinning me around, and I find myself face to face with my brother. “What do you mean she’s in the water?” Despite the bitten-off, hostile way he asks, his own eyes start scanning distance. I can see the moment he recognizes the empty boat, a football field’s length away, because his face pales. “What the fuck?”

I wrench my arm from his grasp, reaching for the button on my pants. “Go get the boat. Meet me out there.”

He looks lost for a moment in his shock and panic, but at my words, his face firms up into a fierce scowl. “Fuck that!” He rips the zipper of his jacket down and shakes it from his arms. “You go get the boat.”

The dock vibrates with the thunderous pound of everyone running toward us, faces tight with varying degrees of shock and worry.

“Get the boat!” I repeat, shoving my pants down my hips. When he opens his mouth to argue, already half-slipped out of his shirt, I snap, “Goddamn it, Sebastian! Do you really think you’re going to swim faster than me?!”

Something in Sebastian’s face cracks and he freezes, chest expanded on an aborted exhale. “Fuck,” he grinds out, elbowing back into his shirt. “Find her!” He’s already running back when he says it, turning on his heel to race back to shore.

By then, I’m out of my pants and springing to the end of the dock, leaping into the water with a quick, expert dive.

29

Georgia

Turns out, a piddly little johnboat is nothing like a yacht. This is made obvious when I have to circle around the effigy three times, struggling to find out how to cut the motor. When I do, I come up short, having to rock the boat to inch it close enough to reach the pole Emory and Hamilton had set up. The head is light but awkward and unwieldy. Straining up to reach high enough to place it, I curse myself for not claiming the bottom piece.

Once it’s secured, I breathe a sigh of relief. There’s a total clusterfuck waiting for me back on the shore, but out here, everything seems quiet and simple, all the pieces having clicked together for once. I take a moment to gaze up at the Viking, knowing that the memory card with mine and Caroline’s confessions is trapped within that helmet. That’s why we had to be the ones to do this—place it and set it alight.

I’m done trusting videos in the hands of anyone else.

Without the enormous head, the balance of the boat is different and takes some adjusting to. Since I’ll need to speed off as soon as the fire catches, I reach for the cord to start the motor and pull. But it’s harder than it seemed before. Out on the dock, my