Jagger: That isn’t vague at all, Matty-kins.
I scowled at that. The Thatcher genes were apparently strong. Jagger was just as obnoxious as his brother…although much scarier. So, I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Jagger: I know their dean’s a prick. His name’s Alfred Harrington. Old money, thinks his shit doesn’t stink.
I hesitated, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Everyone in our group knew Jagger was a Sphinx, and whatever power the society had, he’d kept his hooks in it. If anyone would know the truth, it’d be him.
Me: Is he part of the Sphinx, by chance?
The bubbles popped up, then disappeared. Then popped up again.
Jagger: Why would I tell you that?
I stared at the screen, waiting, pulse ticking faster.
Finally, another text came through.
Jagger: Yeah. He is.
Jagger: Any other questions, or can I get back to it?
I briefly wondered whatback to itmeant. Sometimes Jagger would answer Jace’s calls in the middle of sex when he was bored. Butback to itcould also mean he was…killing someone.
I’d better not ask. Some things were above my pay grade, and body bags were one of them.
I typed out a hastythanks, I’m good, and threw my phone down.
Tapping my fingers on my desk for a second, I frowned. If I was going to pull this off, I couldn’t do it alone. It was time to cash in a few of theunlimitedfavors Jace and Parker owed me.
Not only did Darla now possess exclusive photos of me in my cowboy era, and Emma, Riley’s old roommate, was possibly going to kill me and cover herself in my skin suit because of the dinner date Jace had forced on me…but Parker’s Sphinx trial had ended with me getting chased through a damn cemetery at midnight after we dug up some dead lady’s grave for a ring.A ring. I could still hear the shovel hitting the coffin as I felt my soul leave my body. Ghosts were basically my number one fear, and I’d risked eternal haunting for that idiot.
A full-body shiver ran through me just thinking about it. Yeah. Those two literally owed me everything.
I picked up my phone and texted Jace first. And then texted him again. And again, each new text containing escalating levels of menace.
Me: Romeo. Drop everything now and get home.
Me: I’m serious. I don’t care if Riley’s mid-forkful of pasta. This is life-and-death.
Me: Secret-society type of death just in case you were wondering.
Me: Stop making out and check your damn phone.
Me: If you don’t, I’m giving Darla your phone number. Who knows what she will do with it.
Me: Probably hack into it somehow and see all the dick pics on there, I’m sure.
Me: Pick. Up. I WILL DO IT, JACE THATCHER.
A few seconds later, the bubbles appeared, then vanished, then came back.
Jace: I’m on a date, you psychopath.
Jace: This seems very drama llama of you, and not in a good way.
Jace: Also, how dare you threaten me with nudes. Do you want her to stalk me forever? What else would she do after seeing lil Jace?
Me: Weren’t you just complaining about not having stalkers? On second thought, I would actually be doing yet another favor for you, so maybe I need to think of something else.
