He cleared his throat. “How’s Lincoln?”
My shoulders slumped. “Still in a coma. I don’t know how long they plan to keep him like that.”
Logan idled a little. “Well, if you need me I’m in 408.”
“I am not going to 408.” I looked up at him from the envelope. “Not one of your groupies, remember?”
“How can I forget?” He sort of smiled.
“How come everyone calls you Fitz?” I asked.
“That’s my name.” He tilted his head slightly. “Logan Fitzgerald.”
“Logan Moriarty Fitzgerald.” I raised an eyebrow. “I did my research.”
“You did, huh? What else did you find out?”
“A lot of random facts, like your weight and height.” And things about his brother that I didn’t want to bring up right now. I licked my lips. “You tell everyone to call you Fitz.”
“You tell everyone to call you Mae.”
“You can call me Mae if you want to.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I don’t like to follow the herd.”
“Hm.” I put the key in the hole and turned it, unlocking it before facing him once more. It was so stupid, but I couldn’t let this go. “But I introduce myself to everyone as Amelia and give them the option. You introduce yourself as Fitz—period.”
“Everyone except for you.” His eyes danced as he said that. He knew where I was going with this. It wasn’t like I wasn’t being obvious.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He looked at me for what felt like an eternity. I was sure he was going to lean in and kiss me. His large hand reached out. I held my breath as it neared my face, but instead of touching me, he tugged on a strand of hair that had loosened from the ponytail I’d tied up during our walk home.
“Good night, Amelia.” He dropped his hand and walked away, leaving my heart in my throat as I watched his broad shoulders retreat to the other end of the hall.
When he got to his door, he unlocked it and glanced over his shoulder. I swear he smiled at me before he went inside and I felt a wave of disappointment at the fact that he hadn’t run back over here. At the fact that he hadn’t kissed me. I shook all of my crazy emotions away and opened the envelope as I walked inside and shut the door. I peeked inside to see a thick, black card inside. Plucking it out, I saw that one side was plain black and said YOU’VE BEEN SUMMONED. The other had a gold octopus with an address, 900 Stewart Avenue. 12am.
I looked at the time. It was well past twelve-am. Something told me this was extremely secretive. Could it be one of the societies? Which one? The one that kidnapped girls and potentially sacrificed them? A shiver rolled through me at the thought. I set the card down on the counter, showered and changed into my pajamas and went back to the guest room to open the other box.
Once I took the tape off, I frowned at the sight of a pink blanket, Gucci slides that were probably my size, definitely not Lincoln’s. I kept taking things out until I reached the bottom, where there were credit cards. No, a license and school ID. I pulled them both out of the box and sat there, stunned, as I held Lana’s identification in my hands. Why the hell did Lincoln have any of this stuff? And how’d it get here?
Chapter 9
I tossed and turned all night before giving up, pushing my sheets off, and rushing downstairs. If nothing else, I needed to know who brought those boxes. There were cameras everywhere in this building and I knew my father saved footage. Well, at least according to the conversation I overheard him having with Lana’s parents that night. He could’ve been lying. Dad wasn’t beyond that. When I reached the lobby, Gary’s head snapped up from behind the desk.
“You’re up early.”
“Or late.”
“Miss Bastón, you need your rest,” he said, frowning. “Your father—”
“Yes, I know, wouldn’t approve. I need something important. Do you have footage of last week?”
“Um . . . “
“I just want to see something. Please, Gary. It’s important. I only need to see footage of my floor, nothing else.”
“I can do that.” He stood up and disappeared into the office behind him. I walked around the desk and sat down in one of the chairs. He set a USB drive on the table when he came back. “This is last week. I’ve been dividing them by week and saving them individually as per Mr. Bastón’s orders. After the whole thing happened with Ms. Ly, we figured it was best to have it all on file.”
“Lana didn’t live here,” I said, frowning up at him.
“She might as well have, with how often she was here.”
“Doing what?”
“Visiting someone would be my guess. A lot of students live here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I thought of Logan down the hall from me. I hadn’t even seen him or known he lived here until last night. Maybe I should be paying closer attention to people. I inserted the USB into the drive and set it on speed. If I saw something I needed, I’d pause and rewind. I yawned on day two of footage. Rubbed my eyes on day three. Day four and five were nonconsequential. Then, I saw Logan walking out of the elevator. I stopped it there and played it on regular speed. He was with a girl. I rolled my eyes. What else was new? I hadn’t seen her before. She had short curly hair and fair skin and they looked like they were arguing. I waited on bated breath, fully expecting this to turn into yet another make-out session. Instead, she walked back into the elevator and he stomped toward his apartment. Odd.
I kept fast-forwarding. Shortly after, the door to the emergency exit by my apartment opened and two people wearing black cloaks walked out. I gasped, holding my hand over my rapidly beating heart. They were both carrying one box each. Boxes that clearly said Lincoln on them. Boxes that I was positive they were about to drop off by the door. One of them took a key out and unlocked my door. They both walked back out not even five seconds later, still cloaked, but with no boxes.
“Can I get footage for this same day and time in the lobby?” I asked Gary.
“Sure, let me check.”
He disappeared and reappeared again quickly, with another USB drive. He set that one beside me. I fast forwarded through the entire thing until I got to that date and time and waited. People were in and out, in and out, none wearing cloaks. What the hell? I searched for someone I would recognize, but that didn’t work either. I saw the girl with the short curly hair that had been arguing with Logan upstairs, but she was dressed normally, in jeans and a sweater. No cloak. I sighed, leaning back in the seat and rubbing my face.
“I need a locksmith to come and change the locks to my apartment,” I told Gary.
“Of course. I’m on it,” he said. “Anything else?”
“No.”
“Will you be up there? You need to get some rest, Miss. Bastón. You have bags under your eyes.”
“I know. I know.” I shut my eyes.
I was so incredibly tired. I thought of Logan, who had offered if I needed anything and said I could go to his apartment. Would it be weird if I went there and just slept? Maybe. I was doing it anyway. I stood, thanked Gary, and headed back up. When I got to my floor, I knocked on Logan’s door, softly at first, and then louder. He opened, shirtless, with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He frowned.