Page 41 of Veil of Night & Flames

“The sooner the better,” I say, then slide off the bed. “Let’s go.”

Chapter

Thirteen

The campus is alive with students now, all walking fast to their first class or the nearest coffee stand. Tia and I zig and zag between them as we hurry toward Mr. Griffin’s place and whatever new info Riley has to share.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” I ask.

Tia shrugs. “I would, but you’d ask questions, and I don’t know how to answer them. Trust me. Riley can explain it much better.”

“Fine. But I’m going to assume the worst.”

She grimaces, and my stomach twists.

“Well, hell,” I say. “Does that mean I really do need to assume the worst?”

“Yes. No.” She shoots me a scathing glare. “I don’t know. And stop asking me questions. I’ll just make stuff up and then you’ll be really confused.”

“Just a hint?” I plead, then say a silent cheer when I see the resigned expression on her face that means I’ve won.

“It’s just that Riley’s found some weird stuff.”

“Well, duh. I figured that out on my own. Define weird stuff.”

She stops walking long enough to stare me down. “That’s my point. Riley can tell you. All I can say is there’s bad shit happening at the Widow Maker.”

I pause, remembering how the cat freaked out, and almost get run over by a guy on a scooter.

“What kind of bad shit?”

But she just puts her fingers in her ears and says, “La la la,” as she continues walking.

I hurry into step beside her. “You know I hate you right now.”

She stops la-ing long enough to look at me. “No, you don’t.” And, dammit, of course she’s right.

I glance back toward the massive tree, but what I can see of it seems perfectly normal. Still, I remember overhearing Tia and Riley when Adric brought me here. Something about readings being off.

I start to ask Tia about that particular conversation but decide now isn’t the time to reopen the whole I spied on you when I was here with my pretty much godlike fiancé thing.

So, no, I don’t bring it up. But I do veer off our trajectory and cross to the tree.

I hear Tia sigh, but she doesn’t protest. Instead, she follows me.

I stand under its canopy and look up. It’s the oldest oak in St. Augustine, and it’s huge. It’s also infused with magic. That’s what legend says. And Tia agrees.

As for me, I think it’s both awesome and creepy. After all, students have reported seeing the shadows of hanged men swinging from those limbs. So maybe not the place for a midnight picnic after all.

I frown as I look, noticing things I hadn’t seen when I’d been watching the cat. For one thing, the moss is the wrong color. Like a washed-out gray. And the grass at the base is dead, forming what seems to be a perfect circle around the massive trunk. Some sort of gardening equipment that distributes fertilizer in a circle, maybe? But instead, it spread poison? Like maybe some horrible Frat initiation that no one will ever cop to?

Possible, but my gut knows that’s not right.

I take a step closer and feel a weird buzzy sensation. Like I walked too close to high voltage. When I step back, the buzziness lessens.

I turn back to Tia. “Something really is wrong here.”

She nods. “And listen. No birds.”