All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(87)

“You’re bluffing,” I said, gathering my strength to shatter the dream. “You’re trying to confuse me.”

“It’s a simple question, Vie: if things really are the same, why haven’t you seen River’s ghost?”

And then, before I could break his hold, Mr. Big Empty released me, and I slipped into a true, dreamless sleep.





In the morning, I sneaked out of Becca’s house wearing the fresh change of clothes. It was barely six o’clock, but I knew I had to be out of there before her parents woke, and so I couldn’t risk sleeping any later or—unfortunately—taking a shower. I made the walk to the Big Swirl, where I huddled at a table, enjoying the relative quiet and warmth of the donut shop, until the looks from the employees grew too pointed. At that point, I either had to buy something or leave. Since I had no money, I left.

By then, though, the high school was open, and I found a quiet place to sit in one of the back hallways. The questions from the night before troubled me. Who had been screaming during that phone call from River? And why had he called Becca? What had happened later that night, when DeHaven followed an unsuspecting River and Hailey into the darkness? And, most pressing of all, where was River Lang’s ghost? When I had been investigating Samantha’s death, her spirit had been eager—maybe too eager, at times—to help me. But towards the end of that investigation, after an encounter with Emmett and my own struggles to develop my abilities, I had found that my powers were changing. Was Mr. Big Empty right? Had I somehow changed myself too much? Or did I need to learn how to find River’s ghost? Had I been doing something by instinct that, now, I needed to learn to do consciously? I didn’t know. I didn’t even know who I could ask. But I did know two things: I was going to talk to DeHaven Knight, and I was going to whip the truth out of Emmett Bradley.

As the time grew closer and closer for school to start, I drifted towards the front of the building, but I kept myself out of sight as best I could. I did this by stationing myself in the freshman hallway. No one I knew came here, at least, not unless they had a class. I was as safe as I could be until the bell rang. Or so I thought.

The click-click-click of the shoes didn’t sound like heels, and it didn’t sound fast, but it sure as hell sounded angry. Angry enough to rip through the linoleum. Hell, maybe angry enough to chip the cement underneath. It came from behind me, and as I turned, I found myself face to face with a girl with tilted, catlike eyes.

“You bastard,” she said.

“Hi, Temple Mae. I guess you heard about Jake.”

“Heard about? Heard about?”

“Could you keep your voice down?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the front doors. This, I thought in a moment of pained remembrance, was where she had stared at me and Austin as we kissed. That had been the last minute everything had been OK. That seemed like a particularly shitty thing of the universe, the fact that I could pinpoint the exact moment my life had gone to crap.

“You—”

“God, seriously, Temple Mae. Keep your voice down.”

She grabbed my arm, digging in her nails, and I yelped. “Is this quiet enough?” she hissed.

“He hit me first. I’m not going to apologize.” That last part was a lie, of course. I was going to apologize my ass off to Austin and his parents. To Jake, too, if I had to, but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. What I wasn’t going to do, though, was apologize to Temple Mae, Jake’s freshman girlfriend.

“I’m not talking about Jake. Jake’s an asshole. I’m talking about how you treated Austin.”

“Look, I know—”

“No. You don’t. You don’t know shit. I know you think you do, and I know you think you’re supportive and helpful and a good boyfriend all of that, but you don’t know shit. You missed his birthday.”

“I apologized for that.”

She continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “You drag him to a party he doesn’t want to go to, and then you abandon him there so you can go screw around with Emmett Bradley.”

“Wait a minute. I wasn’t—”

“And then, when he finally drags you over to his house for dinner—which he’s been talking about for weeks, you braindead sack of crap—you manage to get in a fistfight with his brother. Yeah, Jake’s an asshole sometimes. Everybody knows that. But you’re the one who ruined it.”

“I ruined it? I ruined it, after the things Jake said, after him coming after me? Who the hell are you, you stuck up bitch?” Wrenching my arm free, I opened my mouth to say more. At that moment, Emmett sauntered into the school. Nobody sauntered, not naturally, but Emmett did: he walked like a big cat, like a leopard maybe, all lean muscle and coiled aggression. “Stay out of this,” I told Temple Mae. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Great,” she called after me. “It’s him again. You’re going with him again.”

I tried to ignore her, and for the most part I was successful until an enormous crash rang through the hallway. In spite of my determination, I glanced back. The locker next to Temple Mae had a massive dent in it.

“God Almighty,” Emmett said, peering over my shoulder as I reached him. “That girl must have a hell of a right hook.” Then his eyes moved to me. “Hey, beautiful, what do you say—”