Page 12 of Hextreme Measures

“You don’t want to stay until the end?” Genuine surprise registered on Jack’s distinguished features.

“I don’t want to hear an earful from my mother about how her party was ruined.” The lie rolled off Ofelia’s tongue easily. “We were just figuring out how we were going to make our escape when it happened. I’m officially done with my mother tonight.”

“I don’t blame you.” Jack blew out a sigh. “I’ll cover for you, but only because I feel guilty that your engagement party ended like this.”

“Yes, well, it wouldn’t be a party without a little mayhem.”

“Isn’t that the truth?”

OFELIA PRETENDED TO WHISPER WITH Angelique as Jack and the others wandered off. Nobody questioned them. The moment she felt it was safe; she grabbed Angelique’s hand and pulled her out of the park.

“What are we going to do?” Angelique demanded when they were out of earshot. “Shouldn’t we turn around and own up to what happened to me?”

Ofelia wasn’t much of a liar. She did it when necessary, but it was never her natural instinct. Somehow, this time, she knew lying was the way to go. “We’re going to handle it ourselves. You’re not going in a cage.”

Angelique followed Ofelia to the sidewalk. “How are we going to handle it ourselves? Do you know how to handle it?”

“Well, first off, we don’t know that you’re infected. There might be nothing to handle but antiseptic and antibiotics.”

“We don’t know that I’m not.”

“Don’t be a pessimist,” Ofelia chided. “You’re not the type who will turn into a banshee.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, for starters, you’re not an angry person.” The second the sentence was out of her mouth, Ofelia had to reconsider it.

Angelique was nothing if not self-aware. “I’m not exactly Bruce Banner, but I tend to be angry at least once a day.”

“Only at stupid people.”

“Yes, because that will feel like a notable distinction as my fingernails are growing into claws,” Angelique replied dryly. She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to look at her arm again. The wound was red and angry. “What if I turn into a banshee?”

Ofelia wasn’t certain she’d meant to ask the question out loud, but the witch answered it anyway. “We’ll deal with it.”

“You’re going to just be besties with a banshee?” Angelique was understandably dubious.

“If it comes to it, we’ll make that work. It’s not going to come to that, though.”

“How can you be sure?”

Ofelia didn’t blame Angelique for being worried. If their roles were reversed, she would be terrified. That’s what allowed her to remain calm despite her friend’s emotional spiral. “Because I won’t lose you.” It was the simplest statement she could muster.

Angelique fell silent for several seconds, then nodded. “Okay. I believe you. We have to come up with a plan, though.” She swallowed hard. “Just in case.”

Ofelia had already been working that out in her head. “You can’t go home. We’re going to have to put you in a place where you can be alone, isolated, and comfortable. I’m thinking we can use one of the rooms in my building.”

Angelique’s eyebrows went up. “The building that is under construction?”

“They’re going from top to bottom,” Ofelia replied. “They’ve already got three floors finished. I figured we would put you in a room on the middle floor of those three. They won’t be on that floor for any reason. I’ll ward a room for you, and we’ll wait it out.”

“You mean you’ll wait to see if I turn into a banshee and then kill me.”

Ofelia reared back as if she’d been smacked. “I will never kill you.”

Angelique rounded on her quickly and grabbed the front of Ofelia’s dress. The look in her eyes told Ofelia she was deadly serious. “You have to,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “You don’t have a choice. If I turn and I’m a danger to the people I care about, to Ben, you have to kill me.

“I don’t want it to be you, but you’re the only one I trust,” she continued. “I know you won’t let anything bad happen to Ben.”