Page 35 of All Hallows Game

Mostly, I was angry at him for leaving me.

I wanted to see him, to hug him, to punch his stupid, lovable face and yell at him for shutting us out when he needed us the most.

It occurred to me that I could do that. If Darya was walking around as a ghost, then maybe… maybe I could find Byron. Maybe he was in Death’s domain.

I showered and got dressed quickly, folding Miz’s shirt and placing it lovingly in my wardrobe. I wasn’t too proud to admit I’d probably sleep in it tonight, too.

By the time I reached the ground floor, it was nine a.m. and the dining hall was in full swing. A loud hum of voices came from the room, so I kept walking. I wasn’t in the right mood to be around people, and they’d only ask why I was crying or if I was okay anyway.

My best friend is dead, and no I’m not okay.

I regretted not seeing Honey, though. I wanted to check on her after last night. Was her head pounding as furiously as mine? She drank two thirds of the bottle and followed it down with shots of a red alcohol I couldn’t even identify. I’d taken one sniff, seared my nose hairs off, and passed.

I hesitated with my finger over the call button on my phone. I hated the poison that slid through my mind but I couldn’t help it.

Anyone can take one look at you two and see you’re bringing her down. Honey’s beautiful and smart and free, and you’re like a black hole sucking all her happiness away.

I didn’t want to admit that he was right. Honey was sunshine and I was the moon—light and dark at turns but always cold. I took my finger away from the call button, and decided I’d let her sleep longer. If she was hungover, she’d need her sleep anyway. I debated calling Phil and Wilfred, who’d been nothing but kind to me and bombarded our group chat with messages checking on me at least once a day, but they’d be in classes soon.

It was surreal to me that school continued, that my whole world had ground to a halt but everyone else’s kept revolving, lectures continued even though Dean Fairchild and Professor Lancashire had been murdered and everyone knew it had to be by one of us. The world went back to normal even though half the student body had been cursed. Even though we’d been forced to commit murder by an unhinged, power-hungry goddess.

I thought of Duncan sitting in the snow, barely holding himself together, his guilt over killing the dean eating him alive. I thought of his failed escape attempt and wondered how he and everyone else pretended things were normal.

I supposed without classes and structure and routine, we’d all be sitting in the snow ripping our hair out. Maybe… I should at least try to pretend everything was normal, even if the idea made me want to scream. Professor Poppy would understand if I had to run out ten minutes into her class; she was one of the few professors who I trusted. I could try attending her lecture.

“Maybe,” I murmured as I crested the grassy hill and saw the garage, not fully committed to the idea yet. Besides, today would push me enough without adding classes to the mix.

I hadn’t been in my car since it died on the moor road and Nightmare came for me, pushing me into the arms of Death, Miz, and Tor. She herded us like cattle and, oblivious, we fell into line.

I blew out a rough breath when I reached the garage, my shoulders stiffening when I spotted two people talking beside a purple chrome Audi. I quietened my footsteps and prayed they didn’t notice me until I was safely inside my car. People had a habit of wanting to talk when I wanted to blend into the scenery, and I didn’t have the energy to paste a smile on my face when I was going to Death’s domain to find the ghost of my best friend.

It wasn’t just my anxiety, which cinched my chest until my breathing thinned. Nightmare’s curse had ended, and werewolves might have stopped shifting, vampires might have stopped biting people, and the guy who dressed up as Where’s Wally? might have finally reappeared after months missing, but that didn’t erase the fact someone had summoned her.

Most of the robes were ghosts, she said that night on the moor, but one was alive—the ritual needed a living person. Someone at Ford, someone living in Lawrence House, attending lessons every day, acting friendly and normal and trustworthy, had brought her here and unleashed hell on Earth. Someone did this on purpose, knowing Nightmare would inflict literal nightmares on us, and it could have been anyone.

The only faces I remembered seeing uncloaked were Honey’s, Duncan’s, Alastor’s, and two people whose names I still didn’t know—the priest, and the clown. And Darya, but Darya was dead. Everyone else—anyone else—could have summoned Nightmare. I couldn’t trust anyone.

I ducked my head and slipped into the garage, winding through the bays until I reached my lime-green Lamborghini Urus. I paused before unlocking it when the voices rose and I recognised the female one—Honey.

My shoulders rounded, my back straightened, and I went from escape all social situations mode to attack mode. Which stupid little scrotum thought it was okay to fuck with my bestie?

I crept around the cars, keeping my ears pricked for the other voice. Whoever it was had just earned my wrath for making Honey raise her voice. She never shouted. Never.

I kept my eyes on them as I wove through the garage. I couldn’t pick up words but their body language spoke volumes. When the guy she was arguing with turned, I recognised Justin Merchant and frowned. Why was Justin hassling Honey?

Oh god, what if he told her about the photo I wanted him to track? What if Nightmare found out? She had eyes and ears everywhere, and I’d risked everything just asking Justin for help, but if he was telling people now… I didn’t want to think about what Nightmare would do if she found out.

My stomach twisted, but I kept moving, my eyes narrowed on Justin. What would Honey do if she found out I’d been tracking a photo? Tracking Nightmare? No, I knew what she’d do. She’d say I was being so damn stupid, risking myself this way after Nightmare killed Byron. She’d be angry, afraid, and I didn’t want to do that to her.

Justin shrugged, his hands slung in his pockets as he said something I didn’t quite catch. Punish? Publish?

That’s enough of whatever the hell this is. Honey’s shoulders slumped, her fingers knotted in front of her, and I’d had about enough of this jerk intimidating my friend.

“Hey,” I called, quickening my step. “You okay, Honey?”

Her head snapped up, strands of sunshine-blonde hair tumbling into her face, and she pasted on a smile neither of us believed. “Yeah, fine. Just—talking about an assignment for Breathing and Circulation.”

But Justin was in my lectures for that class, not Honey’s. I didn’t point that out, but I did close the distance between us and sling my arm around Honey to present a united front. My stomach twisted into a vicious knot as I met Justin’s eyes.

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