Page 25 of The Executioners Three
Except that was when Freddie reached the source of the music… and saw who was in the room next door.
Theo Porter.
Dancing.
And not just any dance, either, but theactualchoreography from theactualBackstreet Boys’ music video.
A laugh burst from Freddie’s lungs. She had to clap a hand to her mouth to hold it in. Xena dropped an inch inside her jacket.Oh my god, oh my god.This couldn’t be happening. Mr. Perfectly Polished was a BSB fan—and not just a low-grade one, either.
She crept as close to the window as she could get without stepping right into the light pouring from his room. She craned onto her toes, peered cautiously within… But Theo’s eyes were closed, and he was totally lost in the song.
You are, my fire! My one, desire!
Loath as Freddie was to admit it, Theo wasn’t half bad. Possibly swoony, in fact, with his uniform tie gone and the jacket flung on the bed. (If you could look past the devil horns and forked tongue.)
Prank log,she reminded herself.Find the prank log.It took every ounce of self-control that she possessed to tear her eyes away from Theo Porter and not yank out Xena for some blackmail-worthy photos. She searched what little she could glimpse of his room.
Fortunately, he was tidy. Almost too tidy. There were no knickknacks on his desk. No photos or posters on the wall. Just a lofted bed and a desk with a computer and a stack of textbooks…
And at the bottom of the books was a familiar blue canvas spine.
“Bingo,” Freddie murmured, a grin splitting her face. She had no idea how she’d get in there, but now she at least knew where the sacred logbook was.
Freddie was all set to turn and bolt for the gate, when the music cut off. Theo paused mid-croon. His eyes opened. He looked at the window.
He looked at Freddie.
For a split second, she simply stood there, gawping uselessly while hegawped uselessly at her. Then he was moving while she was still trapped in place. It was a real slow-motion, life-flashing-before-her-eyes kind of moment.
Even when Theo shoved open the pane, Freddie simply stared.
He squinted down at her.
“Gellar?” he sputtered. Fury hardened the lines of his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
At the sound of Theo’s voice, Freddie finally snapped out of her Shutdown Mode. “Mr. Porter,” she cried, opening her arms. “Fancy meeting you here!”
“What’s going on?” Theo’s gaze darted up, down, sideways—clearly estimating if he needed to climb out of the window.
“Do you really want to know why I’m here?” Freddie smiled her boldest smile, and with all the melodrama she could squeeze into her body, she mimicked Theo’s dance moves.“You are, my fire! My one, desire!”Freddie flung her arms to the sky.“I want it tha-at way!”
He looked like he was going to murder her. He lifted a foot onto the windowsill.
But she was already spinning.
Theo’s shouts chased after her. Something about “This isn’t over!” and yada yada yada. Empty threats, really, since the Prank Squad had already worked their magic.
By the time Freddie reached her friends at the gate (how cool that she could actually call them herfriends,plural), she was gasping, sweating, and pretty sure Xena’s bouncing had left a bruise on her boobs. “I saw the logbook!” she squealed. “I know where it is!”
“Yesssss!” Laina thrust a fist into the air and whisper-shouted, “Lumberjacks,ho!” just like the ThunderCats.
The boys chest-bumped, Cat did an impromptu handspring, and Freddie and Divya danced the Macarena. Then, because there was still that pesky risk of getting caught, they pushed through the gate and hurried into the woods.
Where the excitement died.
It was worse than when they’d been doused with cold water at the Quick-Bis. One moment, everyone was as rowdy as a pack of five-year-oldstrick-or-treating. The next moment, they were silent and stiff, glancing over their shoulders every few steps.
Laina still took the lead, marching at a speed that left everyone half-jogging to keep up. Not that Freddie minded. Her gut was waking up, and she wantedout of here. It felt like cold fingers tickling inside her belly. Like the fog was back and stroking against her neck.
