He barely got the last word out before I was pulling his mouth back down to mine. Any idea I’d had that maybe it had been the shock, or the fact that it was my first kiss with someone who wasn’t Ryan since ninth grade, flew right out the window.
This time, I nearly shoved him away when the kiss ended. “This,” I panted, pressing a hand to my abdomen, “is really inconvenient right now. We— No!”
David had been moving closer to me, but froze as I held up my other hand. “Okay, so now we know. And we will deal with that later. Provided we don’t die.”
He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “Now that I know, I really, really don’t want to die.”
The smile that broke out over my face had to be the goofiest, giddiest thing ever, and I quickly tried to suppress it. Tonight was about being a stoic superhero type, not a flustered teenage girl. I cleared my throat. “Me neither. So let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, okay?”
He took another step closer, but I was already moving toward the door. “Wait here until it’s time to go to the stairs. Keep an eye out for Blythe, and . . . stay.”
And then I made myself walk out of the room. Shutting the door firmly behind me, I leaned back against it and blew out a long breath. This was absolutely the last thing I needed. I had been single for all of fifteen minutes, I had an insane tiny witch person trying to kill me, and she was going to attempt a spell that might take David away from me for good. Now was not the time to feel all swoony and weak of knee.
Still, I couldn’t stop smiling as I walked onto the landing, peering down at the room below. It was nearly full now, and I noticed nearly everyone had a cup of Aunt Jewel’s punch. It was the weirdest thing to me how everyone openly acknowledged that it was terrible, but kept drinking it anyway. Manners in action, I guess.
Scanning the crowd, I looked for anyone who seemed out of place, but these were almost all faces I recognized. There was no sign of Blythe, no sign of anything out of the ordinary.
“Harper?”
Miss Annemarie stood at the top of the stairs, an empty punch cup in her hands, a faint pinkish mustache on her upper lip.
“Miss Annemarie,” I said, straightening up. “What are you doing up here?”
She placed her cup on the little marble-topped table on the landing. Downstairs, I could hear the string quartet playing something stately and elegant. “Looking for the little girls’ room. The one downstairs has a line you wouldn’t believe.”
There was a small powder room off the main landing, and I walked toward it. “It’s right here,” I told her, opening the door.
“Oh, goody,” Miss Annemarie said. And then with a shove way harder than any octogenarian should be able to give, she pushed me inside.
Chapter 39
I STUMBLED over the hem of my dress, and tripped, smacking my head painfully against the low sink. Stars exploded in my vision, and I heard the door slam behind me. Other than a thin crack of light around the doorframe, it was totally black, and only Miss Annemarie’s heavy breathing told me she was right behind me. I heard the whisper of something swinging at me and flopped onto my back, kicking out blindly.
There was a clink of metal and a soft grunt of pain, and then the bathroom light blazed on. Miss Annemarie stood over me, searching the floor for the knife she’d dropped. “Dear me,” she said softly in the same tone of voice she used when she spilled tea.
“Miss Annemarie!” I gasped. “You? You’re the assassin?”
She glanced over at me, her eyes cloudy. “Have to kill Harper Price,” she said, almost conversationally. And then, spotting the knife wedged behind the toilet, “Ah!”
Her girth made it hard for her to bend down, and I crouched there against the far wall, watching her struggle. All my Paladin instincts were urging me to rush forward, pin her to the floor, and snap her neck. But . . . this was Miss Annemarie. She wasn’t a Paladin, she was just an old lady. An old lady who wanted to kill me, but still.
I got up slowly, sliding up along the wall, but as soon as I was on my feet, she reared back up, one meaty fist swinging for my head. I dodged it easily, grasping her hand in mine. “Miss Annemarie!” I said again, and it was like she couldn’t even hear me. The look on her face was dazed, dreamy. She looked like . . . she looked like Mom had this evening.
Mind control. A shudder ran through me. So that’s how Blythe was going to get rid of me. By sending the last person I’d expect to—
And then I looked closer at the pink stain over her upper lip. Punch. She’d been drinking Aunt Jewel’s punch.
As had nearly everyone downstairs.
Oh my God.
Blythe had gotten her job at the university by making a mass mind-control potion, slipped into their potluck lunch. She’d done the same thing here, only with my Aunt Jewel’s punch, and suddenly that part of David’s vision made perfect sense.
It also meant I was perfectly effed.
Armies of cater waiter assassins I’d been prepared for. Some hired thugs, sure. But people I knew and loved, all turned against me? I couldn’t kill those people. I couldn’t even hurt those people.
Miss Annemarie jerked her head toward mine, trying to head-butt me, but I’d perfected that move. I ducked, and then reaching out with my right hand, tried the thing Saylor had taught me. I pressed right above Miss Annemarie’s carotid artery, and she dropped like a stone.
I did my best to haul her inert body out of the way, and flung the door open. There was no murmur of voices downstairs now, no violins. Everything seemed deathly quiet, and when I eased out of the bathroom and peeked over the landing, I saw everyone just . . . standing there. Arms at their sides, abandoned punch cups on the floor. What I didn’t see were any white dresses.
I checked my watch. Of course! While I was fighting Miss Annemarie in the bathroom, the other girls had probably gone upstairs. And they wouldn’t have had any of the punch since red juice plus white dress equals disaster.
Moving as silently as I could, I crept down the hall to the bedroom where we’d been told to assemble. The door was closed, but when I opened it, I was greeted by a sea of white dresses. “Harper!” Amanda and Abigail cried, and I waved my hand.
“Shhh!” The girls all stared at me, but everyone went quiet. “Look, there’s been a little delay,” I said, trying to keep my voice low. “First of all, has anyone in here had the punch?”
“Do we look stupid?” Mary Beth asked, narrowing her eyes. Her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair. “You and Miss Saylor both practically threatened to kill us if we touched the stuff.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I pointed at them. “Wait here.”
Dashing down the hall, I ran to the bedroom where I’d left David. He was putting on his jacket when I opened the door. “Am I late?” he asked when he saw me standing there.
Without answering, I grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room.
When I got back to the girls’ room, I practically threw him inside. “All of you stay in here until I come back,” I instructed. “Don’t let anyone in, and don’t let anyone out.”
“Harper,” Bee said, moving forward, but I stopped her with a hand.
“Not now, Bee.”
“But—”
“Seriously!” I snapped. “I’ll be . . . I’ll be right back.”
Something flickered across her face, but I shut the door before I could put a name to it. I had way more important problems now. Namely that I didn’t know what to do next. I had to keep Blythe from David, but that meant I had to find Blythe. She was obviously here, but where? Should I just stand guard over this door, or should I make my way downstairs, fight it out?