Page 75 of The Executioners Three
Uh-oh, the crickets. New shame swooped through Freddie. The insects were screeching in full force now, and honestly, it was a wonder she hadn’t noticed just how loud they were before.
She and Theo were too good at this whole distraction thing.
Of course, now that Freddie was paying attention, she also realized the car alarm had turned off. Oh, crap, crap,crap. How long had she and Theo been making out?
Freddie slipped Sabrina from her back pocket. Seven missed calls. Oh boy, she was in trouble. “I should probably go,” Freddie murmured, more to Theo than to Dr. Born. “Thanks for your help.”
“Wait.” Theo glanced briefly at Dr. Born before turning the full wattage of his blue eyes onto Freddie. “When can I see you again?”
Yargh.Freddie’s brain inverted, and she desperately wished he hadn’t asked that question—and also that the question wasn’t making her chest swell like a happy balloon. Not only had she broken her vow to Divya,but now she was going to make plans to do so again. She was aterriblebest friend.
Despite her utter self-hatred, though, Freddie still couldn’t keep her mouth from saying, “Will you be at your aunt’s for dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” She smiled shyly. “I could meet you after.”
“Okay” was Theo’s reply, and he offered a tiny smile of his own. Then, before Freddie could turn to go, he added, “Enemies?”
And Freddie couldn’t keep from grinning wide. “In fair Verona.” She yanked her cap off the floor, and after scooping up the duffle bag—which instantly silenced the crickets—she scurried past the Unwelcome Counselor Who Had the Worst Timing Ever.
“Bye, Dr. Born,” she muttered, firmly avoiding eye contact and hoping he wouldn’t say anything.
Butof coursehe did. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you at school yesterday,” he called after her. “We still have one more session, you know.”
“I know,” she trilled, kicking into a jog. “And there isnothingI look forward to more!”
Freddie floated euphorically on a euphoric cloud of euphoria.
She was a Criminal Mastermind, dumping crickets into empty bathrooms and making out with Romeos in dark corners. And though she wasn’thappythat there was a murderer on the loose who had systematically stolen papers from every local archive, itwasundeniably exhilarating for an inquiring mind like hers.
She felt like she was flying as she ran to meet Kyle and Cat. She reached the mausoleum—now lit by the warmth of full sunrise. She caught sight of the sign where Theo had tapped his glorious fingers. The lamppost he’d leaned against like a teen heartthrob.
So lost was Freddie on her cloud nine that she totally forgot about Theo’s earlier warning about a loose brick. Her toes hit it. The paver jiggled. And the next thing she knew, she was flying face-first toward the ground.
Her hands thrust out to catch her, her palms connected with rough stone—and her knees cracked a split second later.“Owwwwwwww,”she howled, flopping sideways onto the freezing ground. Her wrists hadsnapped too hard; the left one in particular was displeased. Also, there was now blood on her palms.
“Awesome, awesome,” she gritted out. “Way to stick that landing, Gellar.” With her right hand, she pushed to sitting. The stolen uniform was streaked in dirt, and the cap had flown right over the fence and landed on the steps to the mausoleum. But at least the heavy-duty safety pin had done its job. No single-boob art would be on display today.
“Sorry,” she offered the nearest bust of Allard Fortin. “I swear it was an accident.”
His glare, unchanged from an hour ago, continued steadily on.
Freddie heaved herself to standing. The duffle bag, now empty, had landed by the sign. She snagged that first, then hopped the low fence and scurried toward the mausoleum. The cap was like a bright red police light.Criminal!it cried.Hoodlum!
As she tipped down to grab it, her eyes caught on the edge of the step before the mausoleum’s door. It was tucked in a shadow, and given that the crypt faced north, that meant it wasalwaystucked in shadow. Which was, no doubt, why Freddie hadn’t spotted this sooner…
There were candles before the door. Three of them. Just squat things made from white wax. Two on the left were melted. One almost all the way to the stone; the other halfway down; meanwhile, the third candle hadn’t been lit at all.
Freddie’s right fingers eased around the red cap. Her left wrist throbbed. Both of her palms too. But that was a distant, meaningless signal from a body she was no longer quite attached to. Her attention had firmly target-locked onto those candles. Anyone could have put them there. Maybe someone at Fortin Prep was just a little too obsessed withThe Craft.Or maybe it was part of a Halloween display Freddie didn’t know about…
But she also couldn’t help but think of Edgar Fabre and the unhinged ramblings of his probably-lead-poisoned, certainly-unpaid blacksmith ancestor. Original Fabre had mentioned candles—and how the original settlers of Berme always knew when the Executioners were hunting because three candles would burn near the tolling bell in the Village Square.
Freddie inched forward, her gaze running along the rest of the shadowy door. But there were no other candles, no signs of wax or flame or any marks at all to disrupt the plain stone.
Freddie wet her lips. She really,reallywished she had Xena here right now, because what if someone hadn’t thought Original Fabre was insane? What if someone wasn’t just inspired by and copying the alleged methods of execution… but was actually convinced it might be real?
Or,pinged another idea in Freddie’s brain.What if someone wants to make it look like it’s real? The hunting spirits and blood oath?It was a very Scooby-Doo theory but still a thousand times more likely than an actual supernatural ritual happening.
