Page 273 of Satan's Spawn
A sense of impending disaster strikes like an iron fist. It gets even worse when they help Alexis to her feet and guide her toward the back of the room, doing their best not to draw attention.
It doesn’t work because almost everybody is watching quietly as they pass, confused looks on the faces of kids whose suspicions are similar to mine. Then, when the three of them disappear into the kitchen, students go back to minding their business, and loud chatter erupts once again.
I can’t shake the eerie feeling, though, knowing there’s only one reason for a mob princess to be escorted out of a room like it’s swarming with paparazzi.
Dragging in a long breath, I feel Saint piercing the side of my head like a knife, his spidey senses telling me what I already know.
We’ve got incoming.
And since Alexis is who she is, it leaves little to the imagination. Her return, Felix’s death. Both very fucking convenient.
“That was weirdly ominous,” Rebecca states, going back to tracing shapes along my oxford.
Ringing from the phone in her gigantic Barnie bag has her halting the scribbling. She reaches for it on the chair next to us, but the phone seems to be hidden somewhere between the thousands of books she carries.
Rebecca fishes through the contents, removing books one by one while mumbling to herself where the hell it can be.
The ringing stops, but her attempts do not.
My phone goes off next, so I reach into my pocket to confirm who it is. My dad.
Things like this can be a coincidence to anyone else, but nothing in my life ever is. Which is why I don’t bother picking up the call—because if something bad is about to happen in this room I need to figure out a way to get Rebecca out of it.
I’m stuffing the phone back in my pocket at the same time Rebecca’s starts up again, but she’s still busy searching for the damn thing, so she misses another call.
Then it’s my phone’s turn for an encore.
I look to find once again it’s my father.
“Can one of you imbeciles please answer your goddamn phone,” Hendrix bites out, typing something into hers.
I end the call, my stare ricocheting between Saint, Riggs, and Levi, telling them what needs to be done without speaking a single word.
Saint is at his feet, typing something into his phone before making way for Hendrix, and the other two head straight toward the doors for recon.
“Found it!” Rebecca announces with her face buried in the bag, oblivious to the fact almost half our table is no longer sitting. “It was Archer,” she chirps, holding the phone out like a prize, but frowns when she realizes nobody is paying attention.
Saint squeezes a hand around Hendrix’s arm, forcing her to her feet with a harsh tug.
Hendrix curses him out in response.
“What the hell are you doing? Let her go!” Rebecca stands, ready to come to her friend’s defense, but I snatch her waist, spinning her around to look at me as Saint drags Hendrix away kicking and screaming.
“Rebecca…” I stand slowly, and the nerves in my tone must be obvious because her anger dissipates.
“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
I shake my head.
“No, Little Ghost, but something’s about to.”
I place a long kiss on her forehead, savoring the lavender scent of her neon hair.
“Crayton, you’re scaring me.” She blinks up at me with watery eyes.
“It’ll be alright as long as you do exactly what I say.”
“If it involves leaving you here, then nope.”
