I shook my head, uncomprehending. “Blind Tiger?”
“As in, an underground bar?” Robyn frowned. “From the prohibition era?”
Spencer frowned at her. “How the hell do you know things like that?”
“History major. House arrest. Documentaries. We’ve been over this.” She gave us both a cryptic smile. “You donotwant to play Trivial Pursuit with me.”
“I don’t want to play Trivial Pursuit withanyone,” Spencer said. “Anyway, Blind Tiger week is a series of underground parties, presumably serving alcohol to underage students. Each night is hosted by a different club, fraternity, or sorority trying to outdo all the others.” He turned to me and held my gaze. “Both Corey Morris and this new stray, Elliott Belcher, were infected during or after attending Blind Tiger parties.”
I closed my eyes, letting that sink in. A festival of unauthorized parties. Presumably hundreds of drunk, underage college students. And four new strays—two survivors—in the span of a week.
“Justus was infected a week before this Blind Tiger thing, right?” Robyn said.
“Yeah.” Spencer cracked open his bottle of water. “But—”
“But if Justus ran across all four of his victims at Blind Tiger parties, chances are good that he’ll be at the next party too,” I finished for him.
“It’s just a theory, but tonight’s the last night.” Spencer drained a third of his water in one gulp.
Robyn sank onto the couch, rubbing her wrist, where the cuff had chafed it. I wanted to kiss her wrist in apology, but I was pretty sure she’d punch me if I tried. “Please tell me you know where that party is, Spence,” she said.
“I don’t. But I know of two newly infected strays who might.”
“Corey Morris and Elliott Belcher.” I pulled my phone from my pocket.
“Let me do it,” Robyn said. “They’re more likely to talk to me than to you right now. Especially if Elliott Belcher has shifted and smells like you.”
“Fine.”
To my surprise, she selected Brandt from her contacts list, rather than one of the actual enforcers. “I think we have a connection,” she explained as she pressed SEND to make the call.
Brandt answered before I even heard the phone ring. “Hello? Is this Robyn?”
“Yes.” She smiled at me with the phone held to her ear. “How did you know?”
“Drew gave us your number and told us to answer if you called.” He hesitated. “In case you need anything.”
Translation:In case Titus turns out to be the monster we all now suspect he is.
“Well, that was nice of him. And Idoneed something.”
“Happy to help.” Brandt sounded as eager as a puppy with a bone. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to put me on the phone with one of the new strays,” Robyn said. “Preferably Corey Morris.” With whom she’d already bonded.
“Oh…” Brandt hedged. “I don’t think that’s what Drew had in mind.”
“I didn’t call Drew. I calledyou, because I knew I could count on you. I’m trying to help Corey and Elliott. You and I have both been where they are, so I know you can sympathize. I need to talk to Corey for one minute. Do you think you can get into the basement without bothering Drew?”
“Yeah. He’s out running an errand. Just a second.”
Robyn made a scrawling gesture with her right hand, and Spencer dug a pen and a notepad from a kitchen drawer, while we listened to the familiar echo of Brandt’s footsteps clomping down the basement steps.
“Corey?” he said, and the minor reverberation of his voice confirmed that he was in the basement. “You have a phone call. It’s Robyn.” In the pause, I heard the familiar squeal of mattress springs, as Corey sat up on his basement bed. “You wanna talk to her?”
There was no reply, but a second later Corey Morris was on the line. “Robyn?”
“Yes, it’s me.” She gave Spencer and me a silent “shh” gesture. “I have a couple of questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
