The Black Coats(50)

“No.” Mirabelle stood, her eyes filled with defiance. “If it’s not your choice, then I will choose to do it now. I’m not meaning to be disrespectful, but this is something I’ve been waiting ten years for. I will not wait a minute longer than I have to.”

Nixon shook her head. “I believe that’s a mistake, but it’s still your mistake to make. Just make sure you take the entire team.” Her eyes met Thea’s as she turned around with a sigh. “Now go mingle. I’ll not have my team out here looking like the reject table at a high school.”

Casey waved her arms around. “Um, hello—we are the reject team and this is our table.” Thea thought she saw a ghost of a smile on Nixon’s face, but then she turned to go, with an order. “I’ll not ask again. Mingle or leave.”

The team looked at one another, no need to even speak.

Casey tossed her car keys in the air. “Let’s go hang at Mirabelle’s and get slushies.”

“Beatrice?” The sharp voice caught them by surprise. The team turned. Julie Westing stood before them, statuesque, her eyes on Bea. She didn’t seem to even notice the other team members. “Hello, Beatrice, I’m Julie. I’m one of the luminaries—” She stopped midsentence, blinking. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not right. I’m the luminary.” For a moment, Thea thought she saw a sliver of humanity in this woman, but then it was gone, just like Nixon’s smile. “I would be delighted if you would come have a drink with me.”

Bea fidgeted nervously. “Well, actually, we were just about to leave.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind.” Julie’s eyes met Thea’s. “If your team leader says it’s okay.”

Thea knew better than to object. “Of course that’s fine.” She turned to face Julie. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Westing.” Sorry, Bea.

Julie raised her chin, and her eyes went cold. “Thank you for your condolences, Miss Soloman.” She put a hand on Bea’s back. “Now, if you come with me, I’ll show you the best seat in the Haunt. It’s my favorite place to sit and think.” Bea gave the girls a desperate look before disappearing back into the thick crowd of Black Coats now filtering out into the yard.

Mirabelle watched her go. “What’s so great about Bea?”

Casey shot her an annoyed look. “Do you really have to ask?”

Thea was standing still, watching Julie turn Bea around like a prized pony in front of some Black Coats alumni. “She is very important to them.”

“But us, too,” piped up Louise. “She’s a part of Team Banner.”

Probably not for long, Thea noted silently. That was the last thing her team needed to hear right now. The sun was high in the sky, another scorching day on its way, and Thea felt a bead of sweat drop down her neck. “Let’s head out.”

Something about this funeral was making her very uncomfortable. Where would Robin’s body go? Why was Nixon so stressed? They piled into Mirabelle’s car. Bea’s empty seat stared up at Thea as Casey turned the car out onto the gravel roads surrounding Mademoiselle Corday.

“Who wants to go really, really fast?” she whispered.

“Me,” said Thea, leaning against the seat. “Let’s fly.”

The car shot forward with a roar. Thea looked out the window just in time to see a flash of black dart through the woods—a blur, something moving between the trees, something dangerously swift. She leaned her damp forehead against the window to see more clearly. It was Sahil, running through the woods. He was racing as though he could outrun his sadness, as if grief wasn’t chasing him like a hungry animal. She pressed her hand up against the window, feeling empathy wash over her. She knew that feeling all too well, and sadly she knew the truth: grief would run him down every time.





Nineteen


Wednesday came too quickly, and Thea found herself walking as slowly as possible to her locker after her late-morning chemistry class. Normally, she anticipated the rush of administering justice, but something about Mirabelle’s Balancing was making her uncomfortable. She was quietly switching her books in the locker when she felt arms wrap around her waist. “You better be my boyfriend, otherwise . . .”

She heard Drew chuckle behind her. “And what if it wasn’t?”

Thea spun around, her lips against his ear. “I would slam my head backward into your nose, stunning you. Then I would spin around, knee you in the junk, slam your head against my knee, and throw you on the ground. Then I would put my foot on your neck to keep you down.”

“Uhhh.” Drew stepped backward, his hands in the air. “That’s more than a little terrifying. Are you a serial killer in your free time?”

Thea shrugged, though she was smiling. “I don’t know, I always thought Dexter was on the right side of things.”

Drew shook his head with a laugh. “Yeah, vigilante justice isn’t justice, though.” He said it so easily that she felt his words bruise her like a plum.

This conversation was on the verge of getting messy quickly, so Thea leaned forward. “It’s a good thing I like your arms around me, that’s all I’m saying.” That wasn’t a lie.

“No kidding, psycho. Hey, I have something for you.”