The Devouring Gray(50)

But as the bottom of the hill came into view, Harper froze. Parked in the center of the driveway were two police cars, their sirens casting red-and-blue shadows across the manor’s front porch.

Standing next to the second car, her badge gleaming in the light that spilled through the windows, was Augusta Hawthorne.

The person Harper had sworn to take down at all costs.

The person who, if Justin was to be believed, had taken Harper’s best friend away from her.

The person who Harper was more afraid of than the Gray. Than the Beast.

Her legs were heavy as stone, anchoring her to the forest floor. All her bravery had crumbled the moment she saw that shock of blond hair.

But if she bolted, she’d be disappointing everyone.

Worst of all, she’d be proving the Beast right the day it told her she was unworthy of her family birthright.

Harper patted the edge of the dagger she’d tucked into her pocket, then stepped carefully through the woods, circling the Saunders manor. If she could get in through the back door, there was still a chance she could talk to Violet.

But she’d barely gone a few feet when a series of rustles and curses came from the trees to her left.

Harper flattened her spine against the nearest tree trunk, struggling to calm her breathing. Someone was in the forest with her. Someone who, she realized as the stream of curses continued, was either very drunk, or very, very foolish.

“Are you fucking serious?” sighed the voice, apparently to itself. “I am the branch guy! It’s, like, my whole thing! Don’t you wanna be helpful, trees, instead of getting in my way?”

Harper groaned silently as the sea of branches parted to her left, revealing a disheveled, visibly intoxicated Justin Hawthorne.

Very drunk and very foolish, then.

His gaze found her before she had time to duck behind the nearest tree.

“You!” Justin raised a finger and jabbed it in her direction. The gesture felt like an accusation. “Why in the founders’ names are you here?”

Harper wondered if he would believe her if she told him she was a drunk hallucination.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, instead.

The question seemed to confuse him. “Violet asked for help,” he said. “And Isaac was too drunk, so May had to take him home, so I came here.”

Harper pushed down a surge of annoyance that Violet had reached out to the Hawthornes, too. At least Justin was in no condition to win back Violet’s allegiance. If he was the soberest one in their little trio, Isaac had to be absolutely wasted.

“You should’ve gone home with May and Isaac,” she said. “You’re way too drunk to help her.”

“I am not!”

A new chorus of voices rose behind them before Harper could respond.

“We’ve gotta check the forest,” called one of the officers to another.

“She doesn’t think it’s the Beast?”

“You know what those bodies look like. Nah, this is a different kind of killer.”

Harper’s heart jolted in her chest.

Killer. That meant someone was dead.

And, more importantly, it meant that Harper could not be found nearby.

Yes, Violet needed her. But she would have to wait.

Harper was already halfway out of the clearing when she realized Justin hadn’t moved. He was just standing in the middle of the trees, swaying back and forth, bewilderment spreading across his handsome face.

It would be so easy for Harper to leave him there. He’d get in a heap of trouble and distract the police for long enough to guarantee her escape.

But as the officers’ footsteps crushed across the underbrush, Harper remembered what he’d said back at her house. The earnestness in his eyes as he’d talked about defying his mother, once and for all.

And, against every self-preservation instinct she possessed, she rushed back into the clearing.

“Come on, branch guy,” Harper hissed, grabbing Justin’s arm and yanking him after her into the woods. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at running?”

“I am,” said Justin indignantly, stumbling behind her as they wove through the trees. “I am the fastest.” He knocked into her shoulder, nearly toppling her over, then overcorrected and slammed into a tree.

“You’re a child.” Harper ducked beneath a branch. The footsteps behind them were fainter now, but they weren’t gone. She had no idea how the deputies hadn’t noticed Justin’s general idiocy. “And you’re going to land us both in your mother’s office if you don’t shut up and sober up, right now.”

Justin chuckled. “Well, shit. I forgot how formal you get when you’re angry.”

“And I’m learning just how annoying you are when you drink.”

But Justin must’ve finally processed her words, because he went silent for a moment and all Harper could hear was the sound of their footsteps in the underbrush. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly less slurred. “Doesn’t make any sense for us to run. The officers’ll just hear us. We should hide until they leave.”

Harper was annoyed by how much she agreed with him. There was just one problem. “Hide? Where?”

“I know where,” said Justin, with a confidence that Harper mightily hoped came from something other than whatever he’d had to drink. “Follow me.”