Our conversation seemed to dead-end there, and we both contemplated our slim list of options in silence.
“What happened to the other dress?” Patch asked at last. I followed his gaze to the Jessica Rabbit gown.
I heaved a sigh. “Marcie thought I’d look better in red.”
“What do you think?”
“I think Marcie and Dabria would be instant friends.”
Patch laughed low, the sound of it tingling my skin as seductively as if he’d kissed it. “Do you want my opinion?”
“Might as well, since everyone else seems to have weighed in.”
He sat on my bed, leaning back nonchalantly on his elbows. “Try it on.”
“It’s probably a little snug,” I said, suddenly feeling conspicuous. “Marcie tends to buy down when it comes to sizing.”
He merely smiled.
“It has a slit up the thigh.”
His smile deepened.
Locking myself in my closet, I tugged on the dress. It moved like liquid over every curve. The slit fell open halfway up my thigh, exposing my leg. Stepping out into the low light, I swept my hair off my neck. “Zip it up?”
Patch’s eyes made a slow assessment of me, sharpening to vivid black. “I’m going to have a hard time sending you off with Scott in that dress. Just a heads-up: If you come home and the dress looks even slightly tampered with, I will track Scott down, and when I find him, it won’t be pretty.”
“I’ll relay the message.”
“If you tell me where he’s hiding, I’ll relay it myself.”
I had to work not to smile. “Something tells me your message would be a lot more direct.”
“Let’s just say he’d get the point.”
Patch took my wrist and reeled me in for a kiss, but something wasn’t right. His face grew hazy at the edges, dissolving into the background. When his lips met mine, I hardly felt it. Worse, I felt myself pulling away from him like a piece of tape peeling back from glass.
Patch noticed it too and swore under his breath.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“It’s the half-breed,” he growled.
“Scott?”
“He’s knocking at your bedroom window. Any second now, you’re going to wake up. Is this the first time he’s come prowling around at night?”
I thought it might be safer not to answer. Patch was in my dream and couldn’t do anything rash, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea to stir up the competition between them any further.
“We’ll finish this tomorrow!” was all I had time to say before the dream, and Patch, swirled into the recesses of my mind.
The dream snapped apart, and sure enough, Scott stood in my bedroom, closing the window behind him.
“Rise and shine,” he said.
I groaned. “Scott, you have to stop this. I have school first thing tomorrow. Plus, I was in the middle of a really good dream,” I grumbled as an afterthought.
“About me?” he said, flashing a cocky smile.
I simply said, “This better be good.”
“Better than good. I got a gig playing bass for a band called Serpentine. We’re opening at the Devil’s Handbag next weekend. Band members get two free tickets, and you’re one of the lucky recipients.” With a flourish, he threw down two tickets on my bed.
I was growing more awake by the second. “Are you crazy? You can’t be in a band! You’re supposed to be hiding from Hank. Going to the dance with me is one thing, but this is taking things too far.”
His smile died, his expression souring. “I thought you’d be happy for me, Grey. I’ve spent the past couple months hiding. Now I’m living in a cave and scavenging for food, which is getting harder and harder to find with winter coming. I have to force myself into the ocean three times a week for a bath, and I spend the rest of the day shivering by the fire. I have no TV, no cell. I’m completely cut off. You want the truth? I’m sick of hiding. Living on the run isn’t living. I might as well be dead.” He stroked the Black Hand’s ring, still snug around his finger. “I’m glad you talked me into wearing this again. I haven’t felt this alive in months. If Hank tries anything, he’s going to be in for a big surprise. My powers have intensified.”
I kicked out of my blankets and stood up to him. “Scott, Hank knows you’re in town. He’s got his men searching for you. You have to stay hidden until — Cheshvan at least,” I threw out, believing Hank’s interest in Scott would wane once his full plans, whatever they were, unfolded.
“I keep telling myself that, but what if he’s not?” he remarked blandly. “What if he’s forgotten about me and all this is for nothing?”
“I know he’s looking for you.”
“Did you hear him say it?” he asked, calling my bluff.
“Something like that.” Given his current state, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him where the information had come from. Scott wouldn’t take Patch’s advice seriously. And then I’d have to explain why I was mixed up with Patch in the first place. “A reliable source told me.”
He wagged his head back and forth. “You’re trying to scare me. I appreciate the gesture,” he said cynically, “but I’ve made up my mind. I’ve thought this over, and whatever happens, I can face it. A few months of freedom is better than a lifetime in prison.”
“You can’t let Hank find you,” I insisted. “If he does, he’ll put you in one of his reinforced prisons. He’ll torture you. You have to ride this out a little longer. Please,” I begged. “Just a few more weeks?”
“Screw it. I’m out of here. I’m playing at the Devil’s Handbag whether you come or not.”
I didn’t understand Scott’s sudden blasé attitude. Up until now, he’d been meticulous about staying away from Hank. Now he was putting his neck on the line for something as trivial as a high-school dance … and now a gig?
A horrible thought struck me. “Scott, you said the Black Hand’s ring connects you to him. Is there any way it’s drawing you closer to him? Maybe the ring does more than give you heightened powers. Maybe it’s some kind of — beacon.”
Scott snorted. “The Black Hand isn’t going to catch me.”
“You’re wrong. And if you keep up that attitude, he’s going to catch you sooner than you think,” I said gently but firmly.
I reached for his arm, but he drew away.
He ducked out the window, slamming it shut behind him.
CHAPTER 25
IT WAS FRIDAY, AND VOTING FOR HOMECOMING ROYALTY was scheduled to take place during lunch. At the moment, I was sitting in health, watching the clock inch toward the dismissal bell. Instead of worrying that hundreds of people I had to spend the next two years of my life with might burst into hysterics upon seeing my name on the ballot, and in less than ten minutes’ time, I concentrated on Scott.
I needed to find a way to talk him back inside the cave through Cheshvan, and as a precaution, I needed a way to get him to take off the Black Hand’s ring. If that didn’t work, I needed a way to contain him. I vaguely wondered if I could recruit Patch’s help. Surely he knew of several good places to detain a Nephil, but would he trouble himself over Scott? And even if I managed to talk Patch into cooperating, how would I ever earn back Scott’s trust? He’d view it as the ultimate betrayal. I couldn’t even reason with him that it was for his own safety — he’d made it clear last night that he no longer valued his life. I’m sick of hiding. I might as well be dead.