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“Two days.” Hi was staring out the window. “That’s not much time.”

No. It’s not.

CHAPTER 39

T
he next day, Bolton’s halls buzzed with talk of Hurricane Katelyn.

“The projections have all jogged to the northeast.” Hi was reading weather.com on his iPhone. “Winds are down to Cat Three, with possible landfalls now including most of North Carolina.”

“So long as it’s
North
Cack.” Shelton shut his locker. “Don’t forget where we live, bro. A good storm surge could put Morris Island completely underwater.”

“The good news is—” Hi placed a faux-comforting hand on my shoulder, “—the hurricane won’t strike until the weekend, at the earliest. The deb ball is safe.”

“Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d hate to have my execution stayed.”

I was twirling my combination lock when Ben appeared.

“Anything new?” He stepped close to avoid being overheard. “About The Game, I mean. The deadline’s tomorrow night.”

“The castle connection is all I’ve got,” I said. “But it feels right. It can’t be coincidence that zero hour falls at the exact time of the ball.”

“Why not?” Shelton argued. “If we’ve just randomly fallen into some wackjob’s trap, the timing might have nothing to do with our social calendar.”

“Even if we weren’t targeted originally,” I countered, “the Gamemaster certainly knows about us now. The photos, remember? It’s not a stretch to think he learned our schedules.”

“The very first cache sent us to Pinckney,” Hi pointed out. “So the Gamemaster picked that destination
before
we started playing. That means one of three things.” He raised a finger for each possibility. “We were selected from the beginning. The bomb location changed to The Citadel
after
he started following us. Or Tory’s castle theory simply doesn’t fly.”

I paused to assess Hi’s reasoning. “Or the debutante ball was always the final objective, and our attendance is a fluke.”

“So now coincidence is back in play?” Ben derided. “Make up your mind.”

Ben’s jaw was tense. It seemed like the pressure was getting to him.

He wasn’t the only one. Every minute that slipped by amped my anxiety level. What if we weren’t up to the Gamemaster’s challenge? If we failed, it could cost the lives of people walking this very hallway. The stakes were staggering.

Shelton spoke softly. “There’s nothing solid pointing to The Citadel.”

He was right. But every fiber of my being was screaming that my hunch was correct. Which meant, logically, that we were
chosen
to play The Game.

The notion filled me with dread.

“Let’s talk at lunch.” I started down the hall. “We’ll figure it out, once and for all.”

The morning came and went. Most Bolton students were attending the ball in some capacity, and gossip was everywhere. I overheard dozens of whispered conversations about escort selections and rumored dress prices. When lunch finally arrived, I headed outside to meet the other Virals.

As if to deny the possibility of an onrushing tempest, the weather was a crisp, cloudless sixty-five. I circled to the rear of the grounds, expecting the area near the pond to be empty.

I was wrong.

Madison and Chance were seated on a bench with their backs to the building. She was speaking animatedly, hands fluttering to emphasize her points. Chance contributed the occasional nod.

I would’ve given my life savings to eavesdrop.

Then do it. You know you can.

My pulse quickened. Should I? A quick three-sixty confirmed that no one else was close by. What’s the point of superpowers if you never use them?

I slipped behind a tree.

SNAP.

The flare came easily, boosting my senses into hyperspace.

A thousand scents flooded my nostrils. Sticky, pitchy pine. Algae-coated pond water. A slight hint of peanut butter. My eyes tracked fruit flies swarming in the branches overhead, dancing among bright arrows of sunlight. I tasted a tang on the breeze, loamy dust mixed with sweet hydrangea. Felt the wind caress individual hairs on my arms.

Most importantly, I heard two voices arguing quietly.

Peering around the tree, I studied my quarry. Madison’s shoulders were tense and her back was rigid. A ring-decked hand kept worrying her hair.

Nice rocks. Keep talking.

“You’re not taking me seriously!” Frustration sharpened Madison’s words.

“Of course I am.” Chance said calmly, eyes never leaving the pond. “I don’t share everything with you, but I haven’t been idle.”

“Do you really think—” Madison’s voice dropped to a shrill whisper.

I inched forward, straining to overhear.

“Don’t you think there’s something
freaky
about her? Like,
for real
? That she’s not normal?” Madison’s delicate features contorted into a grimace. “Other than being a total loser, I mean.”

Chance took a long time to answer. “Enough with the petty insults. You saw what you saw. I have my own suspicions. But neither of us has any proof.”

“Tory’s
possessed.
” Madison shook with the vehemence of her words. “Or, like, a witch or something. I saw evil in her eyes. It wasn’t natural, I just know it!”

A tremor ran through me.

My worst fears, confirmed.

Madison had seen the flare in my eyes. Chance had witnessed much more than that. And here they were, together, discussing me. Making plans.

Nightmare.

What did Chance mean, that he hadn’t been idle? I
had
to know more.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Hi and Shelton stroll from the building. They angled for a bench beyond the trees screening me from Chance and Madison. A moment later Ben joined them. Facing the opposite direction, the trio pulled sandwiches from their lunch bags.

Neither group was looking my way.

I felt a tingle in my brainpan. My pack was close, though not complete.

No. Crazy.

The idea scared me, but I acted before reconsidering.

Closing my eyes, I sought the empty space in my mind. Visualized the flaming cords connecting me to the other Virals. And there they were. Fiery lines, faint, weakened by distance and the fact that the boys were not flaring. Coop was no more than a blur in the ether.

You’re not at full strength. This might be a bad idea.

Ignoring my own good advice, I tried something I’d never done.

I opened my eyes. Narrowed my focus to the couple on the bench by the pond.

Chance and Madison. Madison and Chance.

Projecting my consciousness in their direction, I searched for
their
minds.

Heat surged through me. Shards of glass pierced my skull and raked across my cerebral cortex. Ignoring the pain, I forced my thoughts forward,
outward,
untethered from my body.

The world grew hazy. Grainy. My head swam. I shut my eyes again.

Two bubbles appeared in the subliminal void.

I forced my mind toward them. Contacted one.

A deafening buzz. Then Madison’s voice exploded inside my head. Thunderous. Words too garbled to understand.

It’s working! I can hear her thoughts!

Someone shrieked.

SNAP.

My eyes flew open.

I wasn’t sure if the scream came from outside or within.

Madison slapped at herself as if covered in spiders. Her head whipped wildly, like a hunted animal.

I clung to the tree, shaking, thankful it hid me from the duo by the pond. Glancing over one shoulder, I saw the other Virals staring at me in shock.

My consciousness recoiled like a broken rubber band.

I tumbled into darkness.

CHAPTER 40

V
oices intruded from far away.

“Oh man, she really did it this time!”

“Should we call the nurse?” Panicky. “An ambulance?”

“And say what, exactly?” hissed a third. “That our friend passed out after some bad telepathy?”

The words were distant. Thin. Like radio transmissions from an old submarine. I tried to block them, to stay wrapped in murky oblivion.

The voices wouldn’t let me.

“What was she thinking?” Angry. Disturbing my blissful drift.

Ben. Why’s he so upset?

“She went too far!” Fretful.
Shelton?
“What if she couldn’t get back?”

Against my will, one eye cracked open. Three silhouettes hovered over me, backlit by brilliant white light. For a crazy moment I thought of heaven.

That notion jarred me awake.

I moaned weakly.

“She’s coming around!” The roundest shape coalesced into Hi. “Tor? You okay? If you’ve gone vegetable, blink at me.”

“Real nice,” I wheezed. The effort nearly put me back under.

“Help her sit.” Shelton still sounded anxious. “Ben, get some water.”

As Ben ran off, Hi and Shelton pulled me to a seated position. My head pounded. I was very close to puking in my own lap.

Gingerly, I surveyed my surroundings. Bolton Prep. Outside. East lawn, just off the main entrance.

I licked my lips. “Time?”

“Lunch is almost over.” Hi was scanning for observers. “You’ve been out two full minutes.”

Unsure how to help, Shelton nervously patted my arm. “What happened?”

“Flared. Tried to read minds.” I was too shell-shocked to lie.

“Chance and Madison?” Shelton grabbed both earlobes. “Are you crazy!?”

“Maybe.” I leaned to the side, hawked, spat. “Didn’t work.”

“So
that’s
why Madison wigged out.” Shelton began pacing. “She jetted inside a second after you dropped.”

Hi was rubbing his forehead. “Tell me they didn’t catch you.”

“Not sure.” I staggered upright. Wiped spittle from my cheek. “Don’t think so.”

I replayed the moment my consciousness touched the bubble. I’d known it was Madison, not Chance. Was certain. For a nanosecond I’d recognized her thoughts, though I hadn’t understood them.

Had Madison felt something on her end? Did she sense it was
me
poking around?

How could I be so stupid?

“How could you be so stupid?”

Ben unsealed a bottled water and held it to my lips. I gulped, swished a mouthful, then spat on the grass.

I agreed with Ben, but would never admit it now.

“They were saying things. About me.” My brain was still slightly derailed. “They suspect. I was trying to find out what they know.”

“Not cool.” Surprisingly, it was Hi who said it. “Breaking into their minds? That’s going way too far.”

“Didn’t work.” Though my pride wouldn’t let me simply agree, I was ashamed of my impulsive decision. The intensity of the last few days was warping my judgment.

The bell rang. The trio examined me, appraising my condition.

“I’m fine.” No way they’d decide what was best for me. “Just help me to class.”

My eyes wouldn’t focus. Golf balls rattled inside my skull. My stomach writhed like a shaken Coke. But I was determined to avoid more attention.

You did this to yourself. Take your punishment.

Wobbly, I allowed the boys to shepherd me through the front doors.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

Trudging up my front steps, I thanked every deity I could name. I’d survived. My bed was mere seconds away.

I hadn’t fully processed the incident with Madison. Keeping upright in class had required all my energy. But standing outside my home, fumbling for keys, I finally reflected on what happened.

Why had my telepathy failed? Because I’d reached outside the pack? Because the boys hadn’t been flaring? Because Coop wasn’t there?

My splitting headache proved the experiment had been dangerous.

Had I learned my lesson? Probably not.

If anything, I was even more curious about what my powers could do.

Flashbulb images strobed in my head. Darkness on the golf course. A thin, gleaming wire. Myself, seen through Coop’s eyes.

Was that what I’d been hoping for? To sneak inside my enemies’ minds?

A sour feeling clenched my gut. So blatantly wrong.

But I
had
touched Madison’s thoughts, if only for a moment. It
was
possible.

Then some force had repelled my probing, KO’ing me in the process. Since I didn’t understand how I’d made contact, how could I guess why things went sideways?

Problems for another time.

Right then, a nap topped my agenda.

Which made Whitney’s presence so incredibly cruel.

“There you are, sugar!” Practically dancing across the carpet in her lavender ballet flats. “You’ll never guess what I have!”

“What?” Choking back tears. It was sleepy time. I glared at Cooper snoozing in his doggie bed.
Thanks for the warning, mutt.

Whitney swept a hand toward a long white box on the dining room table.

“Your gown is
finally
ready.” As if its status was of national importance. “At long last. I can’t wait to see it on!”

Blargh.

I’d forgotten about the damn dress.

Whitney had nattered on about it for weeks, casually reminding Kit and me that it was expensive, trendy, and very hard to find. Her boutique BFF had resisted the idea of alterations—the dress being a loaner—but Whitney had insisted. The woman is a world-class insister.

So there it was.

And I couldn’t have cared less.

“Let’s try it on later.” I opted for manipulation over defiance. “I’m exhausted from school, and won’t do the dress justice. After dinner we can make a show of it.”

Whitney’s smile nearly dislocated her jaw. “What a fabulous idea!”

Banging. Loud.

“Tory!” Kit yelled through my door. “It’s past seven. Time to eat.”

“Wha happa cha?” My thoughts were scrambled by dark dreams of snapping jaws and watching eyes.

“Dinner. Whitney says you two have a surprise planned?”

The lingering nightmare was replaced by a waking one.

I had zero interest in parading for my father’s girlfriend.

FML.
“Coming.”

I trudged to the bathroom, scrubbed my teeth, then plodded downstairs. Whitney and Kit were at the table, spooning salad into bowls.

“There’s our princess!” Whitney virtually bounced in her chair. “Are you excited? Think you’ll sleep tonight? I didn’t get a
wink
for two days before my debut!”

“Hope so.” Diplomatic. I might not sleep later, but not because of any stupid ball. “Where’s Coop?”

“Enjoying a rawhide thingy in the guest room,” Whitney said. “He’ll be fine there until after the fashion show.”

Kit aimed his fork at me. “Hudson stopped by my office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Something about you and Ben, sneaking around in Building Six?”

Whitney adopted a posture of extreme disapproval.

“There was nothing funny going on—” I shot a look at Whitney, who dropped her eyes, “—so don’t even ask. We were using a computer terminal when that creep Iglehart busted through the door and started chewing us out.”

“So I heard.” Was Kit suppressing a smile? No. Of course not. “Why didn’t you sign in with security like you’re supposed to? Or ask
me
for network access? And, while we’re at it, why’d you need a LIRI workstation in the first place?”

“Same project.” I was mildly disturbed at how easily the lies came. “We needed to search a few online journals, and you know LIRI has free access to a kajillion of them. Check the logs if you don’t believe me.”

Please don’t. Please please don’t.

“Fine, fine.” Kit began spooning green beans onto his plate. “But you have to sign the log, if only to spare me from more meetings with Hudson.”

“Will do. Sorry.” I was relieved Kit hadn’t probed further, or thought to ask
how
we gained access to the system. “Hudson’s the main reason we don’t bother.”

“A young lady shouldn’t place herself alone with a boy.” Whitney put a hand to her breast. “Innocent though it may be, such behavior can lead to unseemly rumors.”

Having dodged a sticky issue, I chose not to engage.

I felt guilty about lying. After all, LIRI was Kit’s domain. He might even know who’d registered the snare guns. But I couldn’t see a way to bring it up without revealing our struggle against the Gamemaster.

Too much was at stake. There might be people at LIRI we couldn’t trust. For all I knew, the Gamemaster worked there. Until we knew more, it was best to play it safe.

Plus, being honest, Kit isn’t great with secrets. He’s the trusting sort, while I’m far from it. Bottom line: I trust
my
instincts over his.

“Time for the main course.” Whitney doled out thick slices of lasagna to herself and Kit. My portion was noticeably smaller. “Can’t have you overfilling your gown.” She actually winked.

I considered running away. Joining a traveling circus. I had a savings account, and a tiny trust fund courtesy of Aunt Tempe. I could probably get as far as Singapore before anyone noticed. I’m very resourceful.

But then the Gamemaster would win, and the price of failure might be too terrible to contemplate. My own family had been threatened.

I had no choice but to keep playing. Hope my instincts were correct.

Hope I could locate the threat in time.

Hope I didn’t humiliate myself in the process. Or murder Whitney.

Suppressing a sigh, I shoved my plate aside. “All right. Let’s try this thing on.”

Whitney’s squeal grated like a skinned knee.