“Check in on the chat,” said Turner. “And don’t go out if you don’t have to.”
Tripp nodded and offered up his knuckles for a fist bump. Even Turner obliged.
On the way down the stairs, Turner said, “I’m going to Black Elm when we’re done. I want to know Darlington is still corralled in his pen.”
Alex nearly stumbled. “Why?”
“Don’t act the fool with me. You saw Marjorie Stephen. She had the life drained right out of her. Nothing natural about it.”
“That doesn’t mean Darlington had something to do with it.”
“No, but he might know if one of his kind did. If there’s something running around out there wearing Marjorie Stephen’s face.”
“He’s not a demon,” Alex said angrily. “Not like they are.”
“Then call it a wellness check. I just want to know he’s contained.”
They rode back to campus in silence, and Alex and Mercy said their goodbyes to the detective on York Street.
“You sure you don’t want help with the salt and all that?” he asked.
“No,” said Alex. “Our room is warded. We’ll do our entryway too, but I’m leaving the courtyard open. I need access to Grays. You know the knot pattern?”
“Yeah.” Turner had said he could handle warding his place himself. Alex had the feeling he didn’t want her at his house or apartment or wherever he lived. He didn’t want Lethe and the uncanny bleeding into his real life. As if he could close the cover on this particular book when this ugly chapter was finished.
“If Carmichael shows up, don’t listen to him. Don’t let him get in your head.”
“Don’t coach me, Stern.”
“Don’t get that fancy suit rumpled, Turner.”
He gunned his engine. “See you tomorrow night.”
They didn’t wait to watch his taillights disappear. They didn’t want to be outside longer than they had to be.
The dorm felt strangely normal, every bedroom lit gold, music and talk filtering down to the courtyard.
“How is life still just rolling along?” Mercy asked as they passed people bundled up in their scarves, cups of hot tea or coffee in their gloved hands.
The trees seemed to have lost their summer green overnight, the yellow leaves curling like bright scraps of rind from a peeled moon.
Usually Alex liked the feeling of the normal world, the sense that there was something to return to, that there was more than Lethe and magic and ghosts, that she might have a life waiting for her when this strange work was done. But tonight all she could think was that these people were easy prey.
There was danger everywhere and they couldn’t see it. They didn’t have any idea what might be stalking them as they laughed, and argued, and made plans for a world they barely understood.
Lauren was in the common room, tucked into the recliner with a problem set, Joy Division on the record player.
“Where the fuck have you guys been?” she asked. “And why do you smell like a forest fire?”
Alex’s tired brain searched for a lie, but it was Mercy who answered. “We had to help finish up the candy exchange and some house caught fire on Orange.”
“The church again? Are you guys going all Jesusy on me?”
“I do like the free wine,” said Alex. “Are we out of Pop-Tarts?”
“There’s Tastykakes on top of the fridge. My mom sent them. You guys really scared me, okay? You need to tell me if you’re just going to disappear.
There was a murder on campus, and you’re just walking around in the middle of the night like nothing happened.”
“Sorry,” said Mercy. “We lost track of time and we were together so we didn’t think about it.”
Lauren sipped from the big bottle of water she took everywhere. “We should start thinking about where we want to live next year.”
“Now?” asked Alex, stuffing a Krimpet into her mouth. She wasn’t ready to stare down the barrel of her lack of a future just yet. Even so, she didn’t have many friends, and knowing Lauren actually wanted to spend another year with her felt good, like maybe she didn’t have to wear her damage like a warning sign.
“Do we want to live on campus or off campus?” Lauren asked. “We can butter up some seniors, find out which apartments look good.” “I might do a semester abroad,” said Mercy.
Since when? Alex wondered. Or was Mercy just looking for an excuse to get away from her and Lethe?
“Where?” Lauren demanded.
“France?” Mercy said unconvincingly.
“Oh my God, fuck France. Everyone there has an STD.”
“No, they do not, Lauren.”
Alex took another Krimpet and sat next to Mercy on the couch. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t choose Paris over New Haven?”
