Page 51 of Sweet Nightmare

I jump to my feet, start to race across the room toward her. But she disappears before I’ve taken more than a couple of steps, and I realize she wasn’t real about the same time I realize everyone is staring at me.

Luis reaches out and grabs my hand before gently tugging me back into my seat. But not before my mother’s annoyed gaze slams into me.

I have no doubt I’m going to pay for my little outburst later.

“Are you okay?” Luis asks, concerned. “Are you sick or something?”

“It’s fine. I just saw a—” I break off as I realize the woman I saw had brown hair. And she was wearing a pink nightgown. Which means she couldn’t have been a ghost—they’re always gray. But how did she disappear like that, then? And who is she? It’s not like strangers randomly wander on to our little island at the best of times, let alone during a hurricane.

Before I can figure out what’s going on, my mother’s confident voice fills the room. “We’ve found a warehouse to rent in Huntsville, Texas. We’ve already contacted a local coven who has begun setting it up for us.” She pauses and once again attempts to look as many of us in the eye as she can. “Of course, things will be a little different there, but that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it. The important thing to remember is that your safety and security are of the utmost importance to us. I assure you every precaution is being taken to make sure things go exactly as planned.”

I’ve had seventeen years to grow fluent in mom speak, and I know what she’s actually saying is, We don’t trust any of you, even in the middle of a massive storm, and we’re going to lock your asses up nice and tight to make sure no one escapes or does anything else that we deem unacceptable.

The feeling of trepidation inside me grows, even as I continue to stare out the window, trying to catch another glimpse of the pink-nightgowned woman.

My worry must show, though, because Luis’s eyebrows shoot up when I glance at him. “Why do you look so freaked out? I thought you’d be jumping for joy.”

Me too. I’ve been waiting my entire life for an opportunity like this. A chance to see someplace, anyplace, else. More, a chance to never, ever come back. So why am I so inexplicably nervous?

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “But something feels…off.”

“It’s Calder Academy.” He rolls his eyes. “Something always feels off.”

“Because something always is off,” I shoot back. “And I’m pretty sure this is no exception.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Before I can figure out an answer, my mother continues, “I need the cooperation of each and every one of you for the next few hours.”

She pauses, holding up a hand to stave off the expected objections—but for once, none are forthcoming. Instead, every student in the place just stares at her, waiting for whatever comes next. Which is more than a little terrifying in its own way, considering cooperation isn’t exactly our strong suit.

My mom looks as surprised as I feel, but she recovers quickly. “After things are set up in the warehouse, the coven there is going to join with our security team here and create a portal that we can evacuate through at six a.m. tomorrow morning. We should all be safely at the warehouse by seven a.m. at the latest.”

“Why are we waiting so long?” someone calls from my left. A quick glance identifies her as Jude’s friend, Mozart. The dragon shifter shoves a hand through her silky dark hair as she continues, “If the hurricane is as bad as you say it is, shouldn’t we get out of here now?”

My mother’s blue eyes flash dangerously at her words, but I know it’s not the actual question that pissed her off. It’s the fact that Mozart—that anyone—has the audacity to inquire about her plan.

“As I said,” she starts, her voice as dry as ice, “the storm has stalled out, and that buys us several hours. The best projections say that the storm won’t reach us for another eighteen to thirty hours, so that gets us out of here in plenty of time. But we need to make sure the warehouse is ready so you are safe there as well. It’s no use taking you from one dangerous situation to another.”

Mozart raises a dark brow. “You could just give us our powers back and let us find our own ways out of here.”

One of the new wolf shifters—a blond guy that I haven’t met yet—shoots her a fuck-you look. “We can’t all fly, jackass.”

Mozart returns the look with interest. “I’m not exactly sure that’s a downside to my plan.”

“No one is flying out of here. Or swimming. Or doing anything besides following the plan.” My mother’s annoyed voice booms through the microphone. “The portal will be ready by six tomorrow morning. Until then, we have some tasks we need each of you to accomplish.”

She hands the microphone to my aunt Carmen, who takes over with a huge smile that doesn’t quite meet her blue eyes. I’m not sure if it’s because she disagreed with my mother’s plan and lost like she usually does or if she’s more worried than she wants to let on. But something’s not right.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” she tells us in her low, soothing voice. “But everything is going to be okay. We’ll evacuate, let the storm pass, and be back here in just a few days.”

“If there’s anything left standing.” Jean-Jacques snickers from his spot right in front of her. “Maybe the storm will blow this whole damn place apart.”

“It won’t,” she assures him before turning to look at the rest of us. “And to that end, the tasks we have for you will ensure that remains the case. We’d like all of you to pitch in to help get the school ready to withstand the hurricane. We need sandbags filled and lined up to create a barrier against storm surge, windows covered with plywood, trees and bushes trimmed so they won’t go through any roofs or windows, as well as a few other tasks.”

Groans fill the room at her words, but they’re half-hearted at best, and steely looks from my mom and Uncle Christopher shut them down quickly.

“There are tables on each floor of the dorm, manned by faculty members, who will help you with the next steps,” my aunt Carmen continues. “Seniors, stay where you are for a few more minutes. Underclassmen, head up to your rooms and pack a small bag for the evacuation. Then report to the table on your floor to receive your group assignment. When complete, report back here and check in to receive a box dinner that the kitchen witches have prepared.” She scans the room. “Any questions?”

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