Lady Renegades (Rebel Belle #3)(14)

But I didn’t have that luxury. I might not be nearly as connected to David as I had been, but that didn’t mean I could just leave him. And not only for him, but for everyone else

Sighing, I turned to head back to the car, wondering why I’d ever thought this was going to work. There had been a time when I’d prided myself on being the most competent girl in the room, the one who always knew what to do. But the deeper I got into all this Paladin stuff, the more I seemed to be screwing it up. Maybe whoever that crazy new Paladin girl had been, she was . . . better than me.

It was an unsettling thought, as was the idea that that girl was still out there.

My head full and my heart heavy, I trudged through the tall grass, Bee and Ryan following behind. We were nearly to the edge of the field when Ryan made a weird noise, almost like something had surprised him.

I whirled around. He was standing still, one hand pressed to his chest, the heel of his palm rubbing over his heart.

“What?” I asked. “Did you see something or feel something or—”

He held up his free hand, still frowning. “No. Or . . . kind of. I don’t know. It was like something just . . . thumped me, but inside.” He tapped his chest again.

We all stood still in the field, chins slightly lifted like we’d be able to sniff something on the wind. Which was stupid, of course, but there did seem to be a feeling in the air, a vague electric sizzle that had the hairs on my arms lifting.

Or maybe I was just hoping too hard that this had worked.

After a moment, Ryan rubbed his chest again and shook his head, his hair falling nearly over his eyes. “It’s gone now. Whatever it was.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. “That’s that, then,” I said, but even as I turned to go, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

But what I did believe is that if we couldn’t summon David to us, we were going to have to find him.

I just had no idea how.





Chapter 8


THE COUNTRY CLUB was crowded that Sunday, which was always the case on afternoons after church. It seemed like the whole town would come out, which wasn’t exactly a surprise since the Sunday buffet was pretty legendary. After last night’s trauma, I could have used at least an entire plate of mac and cheese (considered a “vegetable” here in Alabama, of course, kind of the way little pear halves filled with mayo were occasionally referred to as a “salad”), and I moved through the line, happily filling my plate. I’d need another hour of training to work it off, but some things are worth the effort.

Next to me, Bee reached for the big spoon dipped into a tray of steaming green beans. “I had some seriously weird dreams last night,” she confessed, ducking her head low enough so that I was the only one who could hear her.

I glanced behind us. My parents were sitting at a big round table with my aunts, and Bee’s family was sitting at the next table over. Ryan sat with them, which was a little weird—there had been so many Sundays when Ryan sat at our table—but no one was really looking over at me and Bee.

Moving down the line, I picked up some tongs, poking around in the giant bread basket for a cornbread muffin. “You and me both,” I admitted.

In fact, I felt like I’d hardly slept, and when I’d come down for church this morning, Mom had looked at my face with a concerned frown that told me all the concealer I’d applied hadn’t totally erased the effect of the night before.

I hadn’t seen David in any of my dreams, but I’d definitely felt like he was close by in them. It had been the weirdest feeling, and even now, remembering, I shivered a little.

Bee looked down at me, holding her plate with both hands. “This is going to sound nuts, but I felt like . . . like maybe I was dreaming the same things he was?”

It didn’t sound nuts at all. In fact, that’s exactly what I’d been wondering every time I’d woken up from another dream full of smoke and blood and a feeling of panic lodged sharp as a thorn in my chest. But if they were David’s dreams, did that mean they were really visions? And if they were visions, what of?

Of course, seeing how scary those visions were, I wasn’t sure that was a question I wanted answered.

“I get that,” I said, looking up at Bee. “So maybe the spell worked a little? It didn’t help us find him, but it”—I opened and closed my free hand, trying to think of the word I wanted to use—“connected us to him or something.”

“I thought you already were connected to him,” Bee said, and I gave an uneasy shrug.

“I am, but maybe this strengthened the bond. Or maybe we just had David on the brain, and it’s manifesting itself in our dreams.”

Now it was Bee’s turn to shrug, and she turned away from the buffet. “Maybe,” she said. “But in any case, they’re not dreams I want to have.”

“Me, neither,” I said, trailing behind her as we made our way to our tables. Our friends Abi and Amanda were sitting near the window with their parents, both of them in mint-green sundresses, Amanda’s hair in a low ponytail, Abi’s loose around her face, which was the only way I could tell them apart from this far away. I would’ve thought they’d have outgrown dressing the same around, oh, second grade or so, but I think their parents liked the matchy-matchy thing. I wiggled my fingers from under my plate at them, and they waved back.