They All Fall Down - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,51

We all follow suit, even though Dena and I share a look that tells me she thinks this is as dumb as I do.

“Sisters of the List,” Kylie says breathlessly. “We have to appease … the keeper of the curse.”

No one says anything for a moment; then Shannon inches in closer, frowning. “What does appease mean?” she whispers.

I shoot her a look, my patience waning. “It means this is sheer idiocy,” I say, jerking out of the huddle. “You can’t mess around with BS like this when people are dead.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kylie hisses.

“Who the hell is the keeper of the list?” Dena wants to know.

Another shared look, but Kylie shakes her head. “She didn’t tell us.”

Amanda agrees. “No one knows who … or what … it is. Just that it has to be appeased.”

More questions and comments, but Shannon stomps her foot. “Will someone please tell me what that effing word means?”

“Appease means …” Kylie hesitates. “ ‘To pay off.’ ”

“Not exactly,” I correct. “It means ‘to make peace.’ Pais is peace in Latin.”

“So is there, like, a war?” Shannon asks. “Like vampires versus zombies?”

I puff out an impatient breath.

“It’s more like blackmail, Shannon,” Kylie says. “We have to pay so we don’t die.”

“How much?”

“Pay in some way,” Amanda explains.

All around, eyes widen and cheeks pale. Except mine, because this ranks with the stupidest, most preposterous conversations I’ve ever had. “Or we could go upstairs and talk to the cops about the weird things that have happened to us.” I look at Dena. “Have any close calls lately? Any almost accidents?”

She frowns, then her eyes pop wide. “My cat chewed my charger wire and I got shocked.”

“Really?” Bree steps closer. “That’s weird, because a power line fell on our roof the other night and my dad said if any of us had been touching anything electric, we’d have died.”

Kylie lets out a soft groan and looks around. “Anyone else?”

Candace pales and looks at Ashleigh. “Tell them.”

“We were stuck on the railroad tracks in my car yesterday. The car stalled and …” She closes her eyes. “We just got off, like, five seconds before a train came.”

“Holy shit,” Bree murmurs.

“I told you guys,” Kylie says.

Amanda looks around and sighs. “We may have to make an offering.”

“Like at church?” Shannon asks in a shaky whisper.

“Like a sacrifice,” Kylie adds, looking at Amanda. It’s clear these two know a lot more than they’re telling us. Not that anything they know makes a damn bit of sense, but everyone in the room is riveted.

“What kind of sacrifice?” someone asks.

Kylie closes her eyes. “A blood sacrifice.”

Chaos erupts around me, but I don’t move. Once again, Kylie calms the others down.

“Oh, brother.” Dena pulls away, disgust on her face. “This is totally bogus. I have class and I’m out of—”

“You can’t leave!” Amanda shouts. “We have to have a plan and a vow of silence and a chain to stay in constant contact. Mostly we need more information. Unfortunately, the only person we can think to ask is Chloe’s mom, but how can we?”

“We have to!” Shannon insists, her voice rising.

“No!” I bark the order, imagining Mrs. Batista. I don’t know her; I’ve never met her. But I know what a mother is like after she’s lost a child. “We can’t ask her anything right now. But I know someone we can talk to.”

“No,” Kylie says. “We can’t tell anyone. If you tell anyone, you’re next.”

“Not even the police?” I ask.

Amanda and Kylie suck in simultaneous gasps. “You might as well write your will tonight, Kenzie,” Kylie says.

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. What if she’s right? We need help. I glance down at my hand and have my answer. Someone who told me I might need “protection.” Will Nurse Fedder be normal or believe us? But I’m not willing to get into a fight over who I can talk to right now, so I stay quiet.

“Listen, I’ll call the next meeting,” Kylie says.

“Well, what do we do until then?” Shannon asks, a distinct note of panic in her voice.

Kylie gives her a mirthless smile. “Be really careful.”

CHAPTER XVIII

I have a moment of panic when I learn Nurse Fedder isn’t in her office, but then I see her behind a glass-walled conference room, huddled around a table with a few other adults and two girls I don’t recognize.

But I know grief counseling when I see it. The parent volunteer at the desk gives me a pitying look when I ask for

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