“Vivi?” Daphne said sharply. “Are you all right?”
Vivi turned away from the mirror and took a deep breath.
“Vivi?” Daphne said again, more urgently this time. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You were right, I’m not safe here.” When Vivi finally found her voice, it was trembling. “Please, please, Mom, I need to get out of here. Tell me where you are.”
This time her mother didn’t hesitate. “I’m on Jekyll Island, south of Savannah. Thirty-eight Wisteria Lane. You’ll be safe here, I promise.”
“See you soon,” Vivi said faintly. She ended the call and turned around to see Dahlia smiling at her.
“Great job,” she said.
“Was all that really necessary?” Vivi gestured toward the mirror, where, mercifully, her reflection had returned to normal. Despite taking a few deep breaths, she was shaking, and her heart was still racing from the image of her dead body.
Dahlia shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? Now, ready for a little road trip?”
Chapter Thirty
Scarlett
“We’re trying to stop Gwen, not make tea,” Scarlett muttered as she stormed out the front door, startling Mei, who was scattering juniper, patchouli, and chamomile on the front steps, a protective measure against wicked magic. As the scents hit her, all Scarlett could think of was Gwen snapping the rat’s neck in the shed. A few herbs were not enough to protect them.
“Where are you going? We’re supposed to stay together,” Mei called after her. Scarlett said nothing as she strode down the brick path. For the first time since arriving at Westerly, she felt like the outside world was safer and more welcoming than Kappa House.
As she marched down Greek Row, she passed PiKa House with its stately columns. Her heart wrenched and her mind helpfully provided plenty of mental images of what her ex—the guy who, until two days ago, Scarlett thought was the love of her life—could have done with her Little.
For the past two years, Scarlett had had a vision of her future. It had been laid before her so intricately and clearly in her mind, it was almost as if it were real, like that part of her life was already established and just waiting for her and Mason to step into it. With Tiffany gone, Scarlett hadn’t had a chance to grieve for the future she’d lost with Mason—at the moment, her future felt like a giant question mark—but now, as she hurried down the sidewalk, stepping over the gnarled tree roots sticking up through the cracked pavement, grief and anger washed over her in equal measure.
How could their meet-cute at the Pikiki be just an anecdote from a failed relationship? How could everything they’d built over the past two years, every inside joke, every conversation, every “I love you,” just vanish, crumbling to the earth like it was no more meaningful than dust? How, when she saw him across the quad, was she supposed to walk by him like they were nothing more than strangers? How had they shared their last kiss without her even knowing it was the last?
And, she thought as she angrily brushed away a tear, how could he already have fallen for someone else? How could he do this to her—and with her Little? How could Vivi do this to her?
And Vivi wasn’t the only Raven who’d betrayed her. Instead of chastising Vivi, Dahlia had practically laughed about it. That wasn’t like her. Dahlia knew what Mason meant to Scarlett. Knew how long they’d been together. How devastating it was when one sister betrayed another.
There wasn’t much Scarlett was sure of anymore, but she knew these two things were true: she was going to rescue Tiffany and she would do it without her so-called sisters.
Scarlett pulled out the slip of paper she’d folded up in her pocket. The one Jackson had given her. She dialed his number and held her breath.
It rang only once before he answered. “Scarlett?”
She raised her eyebrows. “How’d you know it was me?” she asked. She hadn’t given Jackson her number.
“Just a lucky guess.” He paused, then sighed. “That, and I was hoping you’d call. I haven’t been sure what to do. It’s pretty hard to just calmly head out to a party or something right after you find out witches are real and there’s an evil one on the loose.”
Just a few hours ago, his words would’ve released a wave of guilt and fear in Scarlett. For centuries, nothing posed a greater danger to witches than the threat of discovery. In the name of mortal fear, witches had been burned and drowned and institutionalized and incarcerated. The stories were true, and her mother and Minnie had made sure that Scarlett knew her witch history by heart.
But now, it was almost comforting to know that there was someone else to share her burden, someone she might actually be able to trust. Even if he was human. “In that case, how would you feel about helping me track down said witch?”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Extremely.”
“What do your sisters think about it?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlett said, glancing over her shoulder despite the fact that Kappa House was already out of sight, concealed by the veil of moss that draped from live oaks that lined their street. Deep down, she knew Dahlia had a point. Leaders didn’t do stuff like run off on a rogue mission. But then again, Ravens were supposed to put Kappa first. Tiffany was her best friend, a fellow sister in grave danger. Screw behaving like a well-groomed presidential candidate. First and foremost, Scarlett was a friend. She needed to act like one now. “There’s one sister who can’t afford to wait.”
The line went quiet for a moment. Scarlett didn’t blame Jackson for hesitating. In fact, she respected him for how quickly he was able to grasp the seriousness of the situation. “Can you come pick me up?” he said finally. “We can see if she went back to her apartment or if she’s still at that freaky cabin.”
“You sure you aren’t a witch?” Scarlett asked as she fished her car keys out of her purse. “Because you just read my mind.”
* * *
When she got to Jackson’s place, she was surprised by the lack of furniture and the presence of a murder board. Also by the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Just a sec,” he called over his shoulder as he reached for a T-shirt and pulled it down over an impressively muscled and lean chest. He disappeared into a small bedroom in the back.
“Suspect number one, huh?” she said as she looked at her picture. It was pinned on a map of Savannah along with photos of her fellow Ravens, all of them connected by a tangled series of strings. Over Psi Delt House was a picture of Harper. Scarlett’s breath caught in her chest at the sight of her wide smile. She looked so . . . alive. Next to that photo was Scarlett’s own face, circled in red Sharpie.
“Sorry, I obviously need to update that,” Jackson said, coming back into the room with a sweatshirt on.
“No problem,” she said, but guilt flooded in once more. The map, the near-empty apartment. This was the chaos she and Tiffany had left in their wake.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“I think you’ve more than earned the right,” she said, expecting more questions about being a witch. But Jackson’s question surprised her.