Dark Heart of Magic (Black Blade #2)(59)

“Because you never leave anyone behind, right? Not even guys like Vance,” I said, teasing him and trying to lighten the mood and the tension between us.

“Right,” Devon said, but the corner of his mouth lifted up into a small smile. “Not even guys like Vance.”

Felix texted his dad again, telling Angelo what we were doing. Then Devon snapped on his flashlight, and we started our search.

We checked around the other bonfires first, but Vance wasn’t at any of them, and no one could remember when they’d last seen him.

“What’s the matter?” Blake sniped when we approached the Draconis. “Did you misplace one of your loser lackeys, Sinclair? Here’s a tip. Why don’t the three of you get lost, just like Vance did, and stay that way—permanently.”

Blake laughed, and so did all the Draconi guards standing with him. Deah was the only one who didn’t join in with their chuckles. I frowned, wondering at Blake’s harsh words and whether he knew more about Vance than he was saying. Had he done something to Vance?

“Always a pleasure to talk to you too, Blake,” Devon muttered.

Blake scoffed. “Whatever. We’re outta here. Let’s go, folks.”

He pushed past Devon, strode up the beach, and started across the lawns. The other Draconis sneered at us a final time, then followed him.

Deah paused a moment. “I hope you find Vance,” she said in a low voice, then headed after her brother.

We kept searching, but we came up empty and eventually wound up back at the Sinclair bonfire, which was nothing more than wet ash now. Devon handed Felix another flashlight from his duffel bag, and the two of them headed up to check the picnic shelters, thinking Vance might be talking to someone up there.

But I stayed by the bonfire, squatting down a few feet away from the wet remains and staring at all the prints in the sand. There were hundreds of them, circling around and around the bonfire before branching off in all directions. But I kept scanning the shore, searching for one very particular pattern. And, after about two minutes, I finally found it.

A boot print.

Vance had been the only person still wearing boots at the after-party, since everyone else had changed back into their regular clothes. So I stepped over to that first boot print and searched the sand for a second one. I spotted it and then several more beyond it, all heading toward the trees on the west side of the beach, the same trees I’d been hiding in earlier, when I’d run away from Devon.

“Hey, guys!” I called out. “Over here!”

Devon and Felix jogged back over to me, and I showed them the prints.

“See? I told you,” Devon said. “Everyone goes into the woods to make out. There’s an old boathouse a couple of miles down the shore that people sometimes use, if they can wait that long.”

He looked at Felix, who blushed, and I remembered what Katia had said earlier about their special spot.

Felix cleared his throat. “Anyway, Vance is probably in the woods with someone right now. Let’s go find him and drag him home.”

Since I had the best vision, I took the lead, still following the boot prints, which led straight into the woods, just as Devon and Felix had guessed. We stopped at the edge of the trees, and Devon shined his light into the shadows.

“Vance! Come on, dude! Time to wrap it up and go home!” he called out.

No response.

Devon looked at Felix and me, shrugged, and stepped into the woods. We followed him.

I took the lead again, weaving in and out of the trees. Vance hadn’t been trying to hide his tracks, so his trail wasn’t hard to follow. A broken branch here, some loose rocks there, more boot prints stamped into the ground. But he’d gone much farther into the woods than I had, so far that all the lights and noise from the beach faded away, replaced by the eerie whisper of the wind in the trees.

“Vance!” Devon called out again, annoyance creeping into his voice. “C’mon, man! You can see her tomorrow!”

No response.

Felix flashed his light around. “Um, does anyone else feel like this is turning into a really bad horror movie? You know, three kids go into the woods late at night, none of them come back . . .”

“Well, you can stay here . . . by yourself,” I said in a sweet voice. “Because nothing bad ever happens to the person who stays behind while the heroes go investigate the creepy woods.”

He swallowed and looked around again. “I’m just trying to avoid becoming a really bad cliché.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “This is much worse than a horror movie. We have real monsters around these parts, remember?”

“Way to reassure me,” Felix sniped.

But I drew my sword, just in case he was right. So did Devon.

We kept going, deeper and deeper into the woods. We didn’t speak, and the only sound was the rustle-rustle of our passage through the underbrush, along with the steady breeze.

The wind was probably the only reason I spotted it.

Something fluttered at the edge of my vision, something that wasn’t a shadow, a pile of leaves, or a branch dancing in the breeze.

“Hold up a second,” I called out.

Devon and Felix stopped, shining their lights in my direction. I went over, crouched down, and picked up something smooth and silky from the forest floor. Despite the darkness, I could tell exactly what it was—a white feather from a Sinclair cavalier hat.