I guessed her endgame. “You booby-trapped it, didn’t you?”
“Little bit,” she said, then stopped short. She glanced back at me and put a finger to her lips as we neared the final corridor. “I’ll go first,” she whispered. “You follow and firespell me if my hex didn’t work.”
I nodded. “Good luck.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, and we moved.
The door was nearly twice as tall as I was. The entire thing was edged in rivets, and a huge flywheel took up most of the middle of the door, as did a giant steel bar.
But the bar and the flywheel and the fact that the door itself weighed a ton hadn’t stopped the two girls who lay on the floor in front of it, arms and legs pinned to their sides, rolling around on the floor.
I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open. “What the—”
“Oh, nice,” Scout smugly said. She walked into the corridor, hands on her hips, and surveyed the damage. One of the girls wore a green-and-gold cheerleading uniform, her wavy, dark blond hair spilling out on the floor as she rolled around, trying to unglue her arms and legs. The second girl was curvier and wore an oversized dark T-shirt and jeans over big, clunky shoes. She was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
Realizing they weren’t alone, the Reapers took the opportunity to blister our ears with insults. Scout rolled her eyes. “Hey, this is a convent, Reapers. Watch your language.”
“Unmake this spell, Millicent Green,” spat out the cheerleader, half sitting up to get a look at us. “Right now.”
“You couldn’t pay me enough to unmake it, Lauren Fleming.” There was equal venom in Scout’s voice. Obviously, she and Lauren were acquainted. “What are you doing in our territory?”
The second girl lifted her head from the floor. “What do you think we’re doing here, genius?”
“Being completely and totally hexbound would be my first guess. Lily?”
Technically, I had no idea what “hexbound” was, but Scout had said she’d done a hex, and these two girls seemed like they were tied up with some kind of invisible magic, so I made an educated guess. “Certainly looks that way. How do you two know each other?”
“Millicent remembers the agony of defeat,” the second girl put in.
Scout’s lip curled. “There was no defeat. I forfeited the game because Lauren locked me in the green room.”
“Like that mattered. You would have lost anyway. I’d been training for six weeks straight.”
“Because your mom was your coach.”
“At least my mom was in the state at the time.”
The room went silent, and my gaze darted back and forth between the two of them. I was waiting for Scout to growl or hiss or reach out to rake her nails across Lauren’s face.
“So, what game?” I asked. “Basketball or softball or . . . ?”
“Quiz Club,” they simultaneously said.
I had to bite back a snicker, and got a nasty look from Scout.
She walked closer and prodded Lauren’s cheer shoe with a toe. “How did you get through the door?”
“How do you think? Your wards are crap.”
“It was locked the old-fashioned way.”
“Hello?” said the second girl. “I’m a gatekeeper? I pick locks?”
Lauren made a sound of irritation. I got the sense she wasn’t friends with her uncheerleadery teammate. On the other hand, Reapers probably didn’t care much about friendship when teaming up for infiltrations. They were evil, after all. Being BFFs probably didn’t figure into it.
“Frick,” Scout muttered. “I didn’t know they had a gatekeeper.”
“Clearly,” snarked out the apparent gatekeeper.
Scout rolled her eyes. “Let’s recall who’s spindled on the floor and who’s standing victoriously over you, shall we? Geez. There’s a hierarchy, ladies.”
“Whatever,” Lauren said petulantly.
“Yeah, well, you can ‘whatever’ this, cheer-reaper.” Scout began to clap her hands and stomp her feet in rhythm, her own little cheer. “Hey,” she said, “it’s getting cold in here. There must be some Reapers in the at-mo-sphere.”
Lauren made some really offensive suggestions about Scout’s mom. Did she cheer with that mouth?
“I’m going to ignore those very classless suggestions about my parentals,” she said. “Why don’t we go back to my first question? Why were you trying to break into St. Sophia’s?”
“We didn’t just try,” said the gatekeeper. “We accomplished .”
“Two feet inside the door hardly qualifies as accomplished, mi amiga. Unless you’d like your mouths hexbound as well, I suggest you talk.” Scout held up her hands and closed her eyes and began to recite some magical words. But since those words were “abracadabra” and “mumbo jumbo” and “hocus pocus,” I guessed she was playing chicken.
“You know why we’re here,” the gatekeeper quickly answered, her voice squeaking in her effort to get out the words.
“Me and my Grimoire?”
“Like you’re so freakin’ special,” Lauren muttered.
Scout squared her shoulders. “Special enough. My Grimoire is out of reach, and even if you got me, I’m sure as hell not going to go willingly. Did you two think you could just walk in here and carry me out?”
“Little bit,” she said, then stopped short. She glanced back at me and put a finger to her lips as we neared the final corridor. “I’ll go first,” she whispered. “You follow and firespell me if my hex didn’t work.”
I nodded. “Good luck.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, and we moved.
The door was nearly twice as tall as I was. The entire thing was edged in rivets, and a huge flywheel took up most of the middle of the door, as did a giant steel bar.
But the bar and the flywheel and the fact that the door itself weighed a ton hadn’t stopped the two girls who lay on the floor in front of it, arms and legs pinned to their sides, rolling around on the floor.
I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open. “What the—”
“Oh, nice,” Scout smugly said. She walked into the corridor, hands on her hips, and surveyed the damage. One of the girls wore a green-and-gold cheerleading uniform, her wavy, dark blond hair spilling out on the floor as she rolled around, trying to unglue her arms and legs. The second girl was curvier and wore an oversized dark T-shirt and jeans over big, clunky shoes. She was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
Realizing they weren’t alone, the Reapers took the opportunity to blister our ears with insults. Scout rolled her eyes. “Hey, this is a convent, Reapers. Watch your language.”
“Unmake this spell, Millicent Green,” spat out the cheerleader, half sitting up to get a look at us. “Right now.”
“You couldn’t pay me enough to unmake it, Lauren Fleming.” There was equal venom in Scout’s voice. Obviously, she and Lauren were acquainted. “What are you doing in our territory?”
The second girl lifted her head from the floor. “What do you think we’re doing here, genius?”
“Being completely and totally hexbound would be my first guess. Lily?”
Technically, I had no idea what “hexbound” was, but Scout had said she’d done a hex, and these two girls seemed like they were tied up with some kind of invisible magic, so I made an educated guess. “Certainly looks that way. How do you two know each other?”
“Millicent remembers the agony of defeat,” the second girl put in.
Scout’s lip curled. “There was no defeat. I forfeited the game because Lauren locked me in the green room.”
“Like that mattered. You would have lost anyway. I’d been training for six weeks straight.”
“Because your mom was your coach.”
“At least my mom was in the state at the time.”
The room went silent, and my gaze darted back and forth between the two of them. I was waiting for Scout to growl or hiss or reach out to rake her nails across Lauren’s face.
“So, what game?” I asked. “Basketball or softball or . . . ?”
“Quiz Club,” they simultaneously said.
I had to bite back a snicker, and got a nasty look from Scout.
She walked closer and prodded Lauren’s cheer shoe with a toe. “How did you get through the door?”
“How do you think? Your wards are crap.”
“It was locked the old-fashioned way.”
“Hello?” said the second girl. “I’m a gatekeeper? I pick locks?”
Lauren made a sound of irritation. I got the sense she wasn’t friends with her uncheerleadery teammate. On the other hand, Reapers probably didn’t care much about friendship when teaming up for infiltrations. They were evil, after all. Being BFFs probably didn’t figure into it.
“Frick,” Scout muttered. “I didn’t know they had a gatekeeper.”
“Clearly,” snarked out the apparent gatekeeper.
Scout rolled her eyes. “Let’s recall who’s spindled on the floor and who’s standing victoriously over you, shall we? Geez. There’s a hierarchy, ladies.”
“Whatever,” Lauren said petulantly.
“Yeah, well, you can ‘whatever’ this, cheer-reaper.” Scout began to clap her hands and stomp her feet in rhythm, her own little cheer. “Hey,” she said, “it’s getting cold in here. There must be some Reapers in the at-mo-sphere.”
Lauren made some really offensive suggestions about Scout’s mom. Did she cheer with that mouth?
“I’m going to ignore those very classless suggestions about my parentals,” she said. “Why don’t we go back to my first question? Why were you trying to break into St. Sophia’s?”
“We didn’t just try,” said the gatekeeper. “We accomplished .”
“Two feet inside the door hardly qualifies as accomplished, mi amiga. Unless you’d like your mouths hexbound as well, I suggest you talk.” Scout held up her hands and closed her eyes and began to recite some magical words. But since those words were “abracadabra” and “mumbo jumbo” and “hocus pocus,” I guessed she was playing chicken.
“You know why we’re here,” the gatekeeper quickly answered, her voice squeaking in her effort to get out the words.
“Me and my Grimoire?”
“Like you’re so freakin’ special,” Lauren muttered.
Scout squared her shoulders. “Special enough. My Grimoire is out of reach, and even if you got me, I’m sure as hell not going to go willingly. Did you two think you could just walk in here and carry me out?”
