Page 109 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
As I walked down the twelve floors, I took notes in my phone about every camera placement, and a couple of landings that looked like they had magically pressurized floors intended to blast unwelcome individuals with air. If we had to make our escape in an unexpected manner, the stairs were doable, not ideal.
When I reached the first floor, I called Gray to see if one of his guys could pick me up. “Sure,” he said. “Everything go okay?”
“Perfect I told him. Tell Z and Andros that their target keeps her wand strapped to her left shoulder.”
Gray’s driver, Jim, picked me up. But he didn’t get to take me back to the guys, because my mom called.
“You got sick? And then just left Claude?” She was in a tizzy.
“Mom—”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to the ball if you’re sick—”
“Mom, it was nerves.”
“Then why did you leave Claude? Why didn’t you let him take care of you?”
She was so clueless it was infuriating. But ignorance was her shield. I wasn’t gonna be the one who cracked it. So far as I knew, Claude only attacked me. He’d never hurt mom. Whether it was because he actually cared or the fact that they didn’t have any kind of prenup to protect his money, I wasn’t sure. “He’s working. I’m fine. I got a ride.”
Mom was silent on the phone for a minute as she fumed and debated whether it was worth arguing with me any further. She must have decided it wasn’t because she said, “Fine. I’m sorry about your interview, honey. Next time. I’m sure you’re not the only kiddo who had an issue with nerves.”
“Thanks.”
She sighed. “I have us booked for a hair appointment at three. Are you still up for that?”
“Sure,” I responded. If tonight went south, the hair appointment might well be the last quality time I’d ever get with her.
At first, I made an effort to chat and giggle with mom, but when one of the workers took her to the back for a youthful face-lifting spell, I shut down.
I sat like a zombie, face stone as I ran through spell possibilities in my head, mentally walking through our new route again and again. At one point, the hairdresser even leaned down and whispered, “Honey, whoever your date is, he can’t be that bad. Take some Bubble in your pocket and float away after a few dances.” She patted my shoulder. “Chin up.”
When she noticed the new cut on my neck, she looked at me with pity, taking a new perspective on what she thought my ‘date’ had done. “Maybe we should leave your hair down. Beautiful mermaid locks, yeah?”
I’d just nodded and white knuckled through the session, knee jangling, hoping Malcolm had come up with some kind of resolution to the stink bombs he’d lost, hoping Z and Andros were as good as they said they were, hoping Gray’s arrogance about a power up didn’t lead to our downfall, hoping Claude and Ginny didn’t have a nice long chat this afternoon about me and realize anything was off.
There were so many what ifs. So many places this heist could go wrong. The hairdresser finished my curls and spun me around to look at the mirror.I might end up in jail tonight,the thought ran through my head as I fingered the curls, which looked like something out of a magazine.But I’ll have the finest damn booking photo if I do.
* * *
I leftthe salon and declined Mom’s invite to go to an early dinner before we finished getting dressed for the big event. I drove over to the cruddy apartment that was our new headquarters.
Malcolm and his delivery truck were gone by the time I pulled in. I pouted over the fact that I didn’t get to kiss him goodbye. Technically, I’d given him all kinds of good luck kisses last night. I still wanted another though. I’d become greedy like that, obsessed with what kind of new naughty game he’d have in store for me when he shut his bedroom door.
But Malcolm needed all afternoon to set up. He’d left with new collection of soda cans and over a hundred pounds of specially prepared, magically spelled stink-ice.
I sighed as I walked past a norm and knocked on the apartment door. I glanced at the sky, hoping the weatherman was correct and the weather would stay chilly. We didn’t need the ice melting early.
One of Malcolm’s nerdy lackeys, Ben, let me in and I immediately gave him the new timeline. He rushed off to change our timetable and swore he’d let everyone know.
Then I walked into the living room. Catcalls and whistles from Gray’s biker friends immediately rose up. The bulky foursome, our driving team, had bowed down the couch under their weight as they studied maps so they could help us make a quick getaway. Each one of them was in charge of a separate car—one outside on every street surrounding the Pinnacle. All the cars would serve as a diversion if we were made, otherwise, they’d be available so that we could bust out and fly toward whatever road happened to be nearest.
“Hey there, cutie! How about a little kiss for luck?” Jim, the guy who’d picked me up earlier, asked.
His friend, an older guy with a grizzled beard, smacked him on the side of the head. “Don’t talk to Gray’s old lady like that.”
“Thanks, Bear,” I nodded toward the bear shifter who went by his animal name. He gave me a wink as I walked toward one of the back bedrooms. Hearing him call me Gray’s lady made me teeter on the brink of elated and a little intimidated. I shoved that feeling aside. I needed to check in with everyone still here and stay focused. Sorting out what Gray and I were or weren’t could come later.
I checked in with Z, who was stuffed into one of the tiny spare bedrooms—sharing with Evan, who wasn’t there. Z was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt but was just sitting to put on shoes.
