Undead Girl Gang(60)
“I’m outside,” I say thickly. “On the drop-off side. Can you come out?”
“Of course. I’m on my way.”
I don’t bother trying to look less fucked up in the moments between the end of the call and when the door creaks open. Xander appears, dark eyebrows drawn together in concern. Riley used to pluck his eyebrows once a month to keep them from meeting the middle. He would take one of her shifts in the showroom in exchange.
He’s wearing a bulky gray sweatshirt and black pajama pants. It’s late, I suddenly realize. He might have been asleep.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he steps down onto the driveway. “I know it’s late. I didn’t know where else to go and—”
“Hey.” He swoops forward, too fast for me to stop him. He pushes the tears off my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Are you okay? Did you walk here through the woods?”
I bite the tip of my tongue until my spit thins, making the lie more palatable. “Sort of. I had some witch stuff that went kind of . . . sideways.” I scrape the tears away from my eyes with the tips of my fingers. “Really sideways. I think I fucked everything up.”
He wraps his arms around me, holding me against his chest. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we can fix it, okay? Can it wait until tomorrow, or should I go put on shoes?”
I think of the girls finding shelter for the night. Dayton made me promise that I’d take care of myself, and it’s too dark to go looking for them anyway. I’d be putting myself and Xander at risk if I went back to Yarrow right now. I don’t want Toby’s coven to think he has anything to do with the resurrection spell.
“It can wait,” I finally say, but I’m so quiet I don’t even know if he can hear me. I tip my head up and say it again with more confidence than I feel.
“Good. Come on in.” He steps aside, ushering me through the doors. “My parents are already asleep, but you can get cleaned up, if you want. Do you want to grab a shower and some water? You have mud . . . everywhere.”
I look down at myself, knowing he’s right. I’m caked in patches of dirt from my boots upward. If I tried to walk into my house right now, my mom would bolt out of bed on instinct and spray me down with the hose before I was allowed to set foot on the carpet.
“My mom’s already taken her Ambien,” Xander says, guiding me with a delicate hand on the small of my back through the showroom and up the stairs toward the apartment. “So you know nothing could wake her up. I can throw your clothes in the washer, and you can borrow a pair of pajamas from me.”
I glance back at him as I climb the stairs. The adrenaline is starting to evaporate out of my bloodstream, leaving me too weak and tired to be embarrassed. “That’s really nice, but there’s no way your pajamas are going to fit me.”
“Oh, right,” he says, unconcerned with his miscalculation of the size of my waist. “Go ahead and start your shower. I’ll put a robe on the doorknob for you.”
I nod my agreement. He reaches down and squeezes my hand before dashing off toward the laundry closet.
I could find my way to the hall bathroom with my eyes closed, which is good because there aren’t many lights on. Just a pinpoint in the kitchen and the glow of a computer in Xander’s room. Otherwise, the apartment is quiet and still. All the flowers that were here last week are gone, not a single empty vase or spare white petal remaining.
Riley’s bedroom door is closed, and I imagine her safely behind it, flexing her left wrist as it heals itself at my presence. The image is so clear in my mind that I can’t stop myself from peeking inside. It’s empty, of course.
I wish she were here. I wish I knew she was safe.
In the bathroom, I strip and set my jacket with my clothes outside the door for Xander to put in the wash for me. I rinse my boots in the tub, watching clumps of mud swirl down the drain before I step in myself. I turn the water up to scalding and set my face directly into the stream. The shampoo on the rack is Riley’s. The idea of using it skeeves me out, so I opt for a dandruff two-in-one that must be Xander’s, scratching it deep into my scalp.
Does Caleb really think that the girls faked their deaths? I should have been quicker with the truth spell. I should have made sure that he was innocent before I left the basement. I should have protected the house better. I shouldn’t have let Dayton convince me to leave the woods. How am I going to sleep, not knowing if any of them are safe?
The echo of the shotgun blast is stuck in my ears. I scrub at the skin under the rose quartz necklace as though I can smooth out the fear flooding my heart.
When the steam is blindingly thick and my skin is close to boiling, I turn the water off and pat myself down with a towel, feeling around the outside of the door for the robe I was promised. It’s dark gray and warm from the dryer, and it settles over my body like the skins of a thousand stuffed animals. It is the height of decadence. Thank the Goddess for Mrs. Greenway’s expensive taste.
Trailing water droplets from the boots I’m carrying, I pad down the hallway to Xander’s room. My jacket is neatly folded next to his closet door. He lies on his stomach on his bed but leaps to his feet when he sees me in the doorway. Nervous energy crackles between us, although I don’t know which of us is more uncertain right now.
“Thanks for the robe,” I say. I feel exposed—makeup-less and damp and obviously upset. Without my usual armor, I feel dangerously close to helpless. “I might have to steal it from you.”