Page 101 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
I open my mouth to try and explain then close it when I realize she doesn’t know what I told the guys.
Am I willing to trust another person with the truth?
“Was it Draco? That shithead’s been eyeing you like a piece of cake.”
“No, it wasn’t Draco.” At least not the real Draco. I don’t know why this phantom came to me as him. Maybe to get me to let my guard down.
The real question is which phantom was it? The one that tried to drag me into the other world or a different one? And why do I keep getting attacked?
“Raven?” Morg shakes my shoulders, worry lining her forehead. “What the hell is going on?”
With a heavy sigh, I drop my hand from my neck and pat the bed. “I need to tell you something.” Taking a deep breath, I ready myself and start to reveal everything I’ve kept hidden from most everyone in my life. Here’s hoping she’ll still want to be my friend.
“Holy donkey balls. This is insane.” Morg digs her fingers into her curls and shakes her head. “This is fucking nuts.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Uh, yeah. It’s a little messed up.”
“So they can hurt you? The phantoms?”
“I guess so.” I get off the bed and grab a drink of water from the bathroom sink.
Class at its finest.
“Should we call a priest?” she asks as I’m taking another drink from the tap.
I choke on my water and hit my chest a few times to stop coughing. “What?” I croak.
“You know”—she makes a cross with her fingers and starts muttering in Latin, or a bastardized mash-up of Latin and Spanish—“be gone demons.”
“Demons and spirits are different.” I flop onto the bed. “Besides, even if a priest could help, do you really think they’d let one come to Bad Moon Academy?”
She drops her hands. “Gah. You’re right. So, we light as a feather, stiff as a board this shit. Let me in, coach, I’m ready to take out some phantoms.”
It’s impossible not to laugh because she’s ridiculous.
“I can do it,” she says with an indignant huff.
“Morg.” I grab her hands. “You can’t. They’re only focused on me now, but if you start meddling, they might come for you. I’m not willing to risk it, especially since you won’t even notice them.”
She frowns. “They’re cold and assholes. Trust me, I’m great at finding people like that.”
“Some bad boyfriends?” I ask with a sympathetic smile.
“Maybe, but whatever.” She pulls her hands from mine and waves them around to clear the air then groans. “There has to be a way to make it stop.”
There is, but she won’t be able to help with that.
* * *
The restof Thursday morning passes without incident. After I told Morg everything, we had a late breakfast, and I came back to my room, not feeling up to socializing with bruises covering my neck. A few people gave me concerned looks. I’d rather not deal with their pity or fuel any rumors.
I considered asking her about what Carter told me, but I’m not sure if she knows about the not being able to leave, and I don’t want to be responsible for mass panic. Once I formulate a plan, I’ll talk to Morg. Maybe she can come with me.
Before leaving the cafeteria, I nabbed a few snacks and decided to spend the rest of the day here in my room. I’m in the middle of reading through the notes Morg had copied for me when someone knocks. The clock reads five-thirty, and I sigh at my dwindling stack of granola bars. Shoving the beef jerky wrappers, apple cores, and orange peels into the small trash by my bedside table, I straighten my shirt and head to the door.
Carter’s wearing a lazy smile, and his button up shirt is undone, revealing a wrinkled undershirt. His hair is messy and dark circles bruise the skin under his eyes.
“Wow, what happened to you?”
