She swings her hair back and forth”—Scout gave me a demonstration, her short hair hardly moving as she shook her head—“and all the guys stare. I feel like Daniel could pull that off.”
“He could pull off staring?”
“No—the time-slowing-down part. I mean, just watch him.”
We were probably a pretty entertaining sight—four high school juniors, two of us in smokin’-hot plaid uniforms, staring down a college sophomore. But she really did have a point. Daniel walked across the room to talk to Smith, and there was something about the way he moved—like he wasn’t just walking, but making a statement.
Daniel also had swagger.
“Okay, he’s impressive,” Jamie said.
“I so told you.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Michael’s head popped between us, gaze shifting left and right as he waited for details.
“None of your beeswax, Garcia.”
I could see the sting of defeat in his eyes, but he kept a smile on his face. “You know what you need?”
Ever so slowly, Scout turned her head to look at him, one eyebrow arched. Her expression was fierce. “What?”
“You need a man who respects you. Who treats you like his equal.”
Not bad, I thought. But Scout wasn’t buying. Sure, there was a little surprise in her eyes, but that was all she gave back to him.
She put a hand on his arm. “The problem, Garcia, is that no one’s my equal. I’m the most ass-kickingest spellbinder in Chicago.”
I rolled my eyes, but really didn’t have much reason to disagree.
Before Michael could retort, Daniel clapped his hands together. “All right, kids.
Let’s get this show on the road.”
We all clustered together, the Junior Varsity members of Enclave Three. Katie and Smith—still Adepts but not quite like us—stood a little farther away. They both looked miffed to have been replaced. Katie’s arms were crossed over her chest as she glared daggers at Daniel, while Smith whipped his head to the side to throw his bangs out of his eyes. Given how many times I’d seen him do that in the last couple of weeks or so, I almost volunteered to grab scissors from my room.
“First matter of business,” Daniel said. “Tell me what you saw last night.”
Scout popped a hand into the air. “Things. Big, nasty, naked, crawly things. They had pointy teeth, and they moved weird.”
“Like a school of fish,” I put in.
“Like barracudas,” Jason put in. “We found this slime in one of the corridors near St. Sophia’s, and next thing you know they were coming at us. It took a dose of firespell, a protection circle, and”—he glanced at Scout—“what did you call it?”
“A flutterby spell,” Scout offered.
“A flutterby spell to take them out.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “It was probably just Reapers.”
“No,” Scout said, her fierce expression not allowing argument. “First, they were naked. Second, they weren’t Reapers or trolls or anything else we’ve seen before.
They were something new. Something outside my Grimoire —I spent study hall today looking it up.”
I held up my right hand. “She did. I totally saw her reading.”
“They looked like something that walked straight off Dr. Moreau’s island,” Jason added.
Paul crossed his arms over his head. “And you’re sure they weren’t sewer rats?
Those things can go nuclear after a while.”
“Only if rats grow to five feet tall and began to walk upright. Well, mostly upright.”
She bumped Michael with an elbow. “Show ’em what you got.”
Michael pulled the cell phone from his pocket, tapped around for a few seconds,
and handed it to Daniel.
Smith peeked over Daniel’s shoulder to look. It was very satisfying to watch that smug expression fall right off his face. “What is that?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Daniel said, frowning down at the phone, then rotating it to get a different perspective. “Where were you exactly?”
“One of the utility tunnels,” Jason said. “Maybe ten or twelve corridors from St.
Sophia’s?” He looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.
“And the slime?” Daniel asked.
“Mostly floor,” Michael said, “but it wasn’t contained there.”
“There was a lot of it,” Scout confirmed.
Frowning, Daniel ran his hands through his hair. Beside me, Scout actually sighed.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve seen the slime,” Daniel said.
The room went silent.
“Excuse me?” Scout said. “This isn’t the first time? There’ve been others, and no one bothered to tell us?”
Even Katie and Smith looked surprised. All eyes turned to Daniel.
“It was only slime,” he said, “and it was just last week. We had no idea what it was or where it came from. There were no signs of any new creatures—just the stuff. And we’ve seen slime before.”
There were reluctant nods of agreement.
“Ectoplasmic slime,” Michael began to rattle off, “auric slime, that half-fish thingy that slimed the tourist boat at Navy Pier, that time the Reaper used the allergy spell and Adepts were all dripping snot like water all over the city—”
“Point made,” Daniel said, holding up a hand. “And now that we know what it is—
and where it’s coming from—it’s time do something a little different.”
Just like he’d scripted it, a knock sounded at the Enclave door.
Katie hustled over, turning the handle and using her small cheerleadery stature to pull open the door.
Two girls stood in the doorway. One was tall with whiskey brown eyes and cocoa-
kissed skin, a cloud of dark hair exploding from a slick ponytail. There was something ethereal about her, and something slightly vacant in her expression.
The second girl was shorter, a petite blonde with a shaggy crop of pale,
shoulder-length hair. She wore an outfit appropriate for a punk stuck in Victorian England: short poofy black skirt; knee-high black boots; a locket necklace; and a thin, ribbed gray T-shirt beneath a complicated black leather jacket that bore panels of thick black fur. In her black-gloved hands was an old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag.
“Yowsers,” Michael muttered, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Scout.
Daniel waved them in, and the girls stepped inside. Katie closed the door behind them.
“Enclave Three,” Daniel said. “Meet Naya Fletcher—” The taller girl offered a wave.
“—and Bailey Walker.”
“I go by Detroit,” the blonde corrected, offering a crisp salute.
“Oh, I’m going to like this one,” Scout murmured with a grin. “She’s got sass. Kind of like you, Parker.”
“I am quite sassy,” I agreed.
“Detroit,” Daniel corrected, then gestured toward Naya. “Naya is a caller. For the newbies among us, that means she speaks to the recently deceased.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Ghosts?”
Naya lifted a shoulder. “That’s how they’re generally known by the public, but they prefer ‘recently deceased.’ Calling them ‘ghosts’ makes it sound like they’re a different species. Like vamps or werewolves or the fey. They’re still human.
They’re just . . . well . . . less breathy than we are.”
“And Detroit is a machinist.”
There were mumbled sounds of awe around the room. Being a “machinist” didn’t mean anything to me, but it clearly meant something to the rest of the Adepts.
“That means she gadgets,” Scout whispered.
“Detroit and Naya have seen the slime in other tunnels,” Daniel explained. “As you know, Enclave Two is an enclave of information, of technology. They aren’t used to battling it out with Reapers.”