It all happened so fast. There had been so much magic. So much terror. And then . . .
All she remembered was Harper’s face. Her terrible scream. The fear in her eyes as the balcony plunged to the earth.
A minute later, she was dead.
And it was all Scarlett and Tiffany’s fault.
“It was an accident, Scarlett,” Tiffany whispered. “Nothing would’ve brought Harper back. And we made sure Gwen could never hurt anyone again.”
And that she could never tell what we did.
Scarlett sighed. “I just . . . sometimes I can’t help wondering—” When you touch death, it touches back. “Maybe we should have kept her here,” she finished.
Tiffany gave her an incredulous look. “Where? Locked up in the basement? You really are wicked, sister.”
“No, I mean we could have cast another spell, banished her from campus. Or—”
“If we’d heaped any more magic on her, I don’t think she could have survived it,” Tiffany cut in.
“But what if what we created is worse than what she was before?” Scarlett asked, giving voice to her fear.
“Not possible,” Tiffany said firmly. “You worry too much, Scar. Maybe you’re the one we should cast a spell on.”
“What?” Scarlett looked up sharply.
“You’re having nightmares,” Tiffany said in a gentler tone. “Maybe a little forgetting spell would take the edge off.”
Scarlett shook her head. As much as she wanted to forget, she didn’t want to be caught unaware. If Gwen showed up again, Scarlett needed to see her coming.
“All done,” Vivi announced loudly from the top of the staircase.
Scarlett startled—she’d forgotten all about her Little—and rose to her feet. “Let’s see it.”
She flashed a backwards glance at Tiffany, who was already getting to her feet. Most likely to wash some magical blood off her Little.
“Hey, Scarlett. Just try and chill, okay? Nothing’s going to touch us.”
Scarlett gave Tiffany a small nod before heading upstairs to join Vivi. To her surprise, her Little wasn’t kidding. The whole bathroom was spotless from top to bottom. The clawfoot tub sparkled, its brass fixtures shiny as gold. The sink was missing its usual collection of smudged beauty products around the circumference, and even the mirror had been polished so brightly that Scarlett’s reflection in it seemed to glow.
“Well?” Vivi bounced nervously at her elbow, clearly looking for a pat on the head and a reward.
She wasn’t going to get one from Scarlett. “You missed a spot,” Scarlett said.
“Where—” Vivi started.
But Scarlett was already concentrating her strength, tapping into her sisters’ Pentacles magic. With a whisper, she brushed her hand along the tiled wall next to the bathtub, and mossy green mold sprang up beneath her palm. It followed the trail of her hand all the way along the wall to the doorway.
“When you’re finished, get ready for the PiKa mixer tonight,” Scarlett called over her shoulder. “And do me a favor: do not show up looking like JoJo Siwa. There’s a point where someone is so adorable, you just want to kill them, you know? Think magical glow-up, okay?”
Technically it was Scarlett’s job to make over Vivi for the mixer, which was James Bond–themed, which meant tuxes for the boys and glam for the girls. Some Bigs dressed their Littles up like they were their own personal Barbies, and Scarlett knew it was her responsibility to make sure that Vivi looked a lot less, well, like Vivi for the party. But truthfully, all she wanted to do was make Vivi disappear. A voice in the back of her head—Minnie’s voice—knew it wasn’t right. Knew that it wasn’t how Scarlett herself had been treated back when she was a pledge. Knew it wasn’t what a real leader did.
When Scarlett was a freshman, Dahlia had taken her upstairs to her room to make her over for her first mixer. Dahlia had raised her hand, then lowered it at once. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Winters are as advertised. Perfection.” After a beat, she added, “Time will tell if you are as powerful as you are pretty.”
If only she really knew. Scarlett left Vivi in the bathroom, went to her bedroom, and crossed to the small altar she had set up beneath her window box. Whatever Tiffany might say, there was something more to Gwen’s return. She must have tried to come back to Kappa House for a reason. And Scarlett couldn’t stop thinking about the horrible choking sounds Gwen made.
What was she trying to say? Was she trying to . . . tell?
She plucked the pure black onyx scrying bowl from her altar. Next to it, she kept a jug of water collected from the stream that ran behind the house and charged under the full moon. She filled the bowl and sat cross-legged before her altar, eyes closed, breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth, as she visualized golden light cleansing the space.
After a few more deep breaths, she opened her eyes and gazed into the bowl that she cradled between her palms. The onyx bowl slowly warmed beneath her touch, and the surface of the water rippled from her breath.
“I call to the Queen of Swords and to the Star,” she whispered to the magic in her veins, the crackle in the air. “Reveal my enemy’s thoughts from afar.”
For a breath, nothing happened.
And then, all at once, the lights in the room were extinguished. There was just enough light seeping in through the windows for Scarlett to see, all too terribly, what was happening.
Something crept up her hands where she gripped the bowl.
With a shout, she dropped it, and oozing liquid splashed from it, staining her carpet. It looked dark and bloody, like viscera. As she watched, it spread, leeching into the carpet, staining the walls, her hands, her arms.
With it came a horrible, icy feeling. It gripped her wrists, burrowed deep in her veins. As much as it scared her, Scarlett recognized this feeling. She’d brushed up against it before, though never this fiercely. It went deeper than anger, deeper than hatred.
This was loathing. Pure and simple.
“What is that?” Vivi asked, her voice a mixture of wonder and fear.
Scarlett gasped and pushed back against the magic, breaking its hold. The illusion shattered. At once, the lights flickered on overhead. The cold sensation melted away, and Scarlett trembled in its wake. The bloody stains on her carpet and hands vanished too, leaving only clear spring water soaking her floor. And there was Vivi in the doorway, apparently having seen it all.
“Are you all right?” Vivi took a step closer, brow furrowing with concern. “Do you need me to get help?”
“I’m fine,” Scarlett rasped, her voice low in her throat, almost a growl. She coughed, shook her head as if to clear it. She shouldn’t have been so impatient. She should have waited for Vivi to be out of the house before she tried the spell. This was the second time Vivi had seen something she shouldn’t have. And this time it could have been avoided. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She turned away. “Go. Get ready,” Scarlett commanded.
“Scarlett—”
When she turned around, she found Vivi still lingering, a worried look on her face. For some reason, that infuriated Scarlett more than anything else. Maybe because Vivi’s expression edged just a little too close to pity. “I said go!”