“But not the humans whose souls you take?”

“Are you so sure about that?”

Scout growled, and I could see we were getting nowhere fast. It was time to talk about concrete options or they were going to start slap fighting right here on the bridge.

“Fine,” I said. “You two can agree to disagree.” I looked at Sebastian. “Does Jeremiah know about Fayden?”

“Not yet. She’s my cousin,” he said, pity in his voice. “He’ll go postal. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Where can we find her?” Scout asked.

“I don’t know. Her apartment is in Hyde Park near U of C. She wasn’t there. I’ve called her a few times, but no answer. I haven’t talked to her mom yet. I didn’t want to scare her if I wasn’t sure what was going on.”

“She hasn’t been in Chicago very long,” I said. “How many hiding places could she even know about? Wait.” I pointed at Sebastian. “You played tour guide. Where did you take her? I mean, did she seem really interested in anywhere in particular? Was there anything unusual she really wanted to see?”

He frowned and looked down at the ground as he considered. “Not that I can think of. I showed her all the tourist spots. Field Museum. Navy Pier. Wrigley Field. The planetarium. She hadn’t been to Chicago in years. She wanted to see pretty much everything.”

I nibbled on the edge of my thumb as I racked my brain, trying to figure out our next move. This was when the crew from Scooby Doo or Buffy or Star Trek or one of those other shows where people solved a mystery at the end would have been really handy.

“If I tell Jeremiah,” he finally said, “he’ll rush in and try to take whatever is there for his own use.”

“He’s your boss.”

“But that doesn’t mean I do everything he tells me. And that definitely doesn’t mean I want him using Fayden. If this is really her doing, I’m not a fan of it. But I wouldn’t be a fan of Jeremiah doing it, either, and I don’t think he could stop himself. Not when there’s that much power up for grabs.”

Scout and Sebastian looked at each other for a minute, like they were taking each other’s measure.

“Perhaps an agreement could be worked out,” he carefully said.

“I’m listening,” Scout said.

“You need Jeremiah off your back. I need you to take care of Fayden because you’ll be nicer to her than he would.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Scout asked.

“You can’t. That’s the nature of trust—it’s always a risk. And I’m not crazy about trusting someone I know hates me. But what better options do we have?”

Hands on her hips, Scout looked at him for a minute. Finally, she held out a hand. “Deal under those terms. The détente is extended between your crew and mine until Fayden is neutralized.”

He held out his hand, and they shook on it. “Deal.” He gave me a nod, then turned and headed back down the bridge again. He met Alex and the tall girl and must have given them a little bit of a summary because they both gave us dirty looks. Maybe they weren’t thrilled about the plan . . . or maybe he’d told them what Scout had said about Reapers.

When I turned around again, Scout was leaning over the railing, her fingers linked together over the water. I joined her.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh.

“What about the confidentiality stuff? Do you think they’re really helping people?”

She sighed, and it sounded tired. “A few years ago, there was a big Dark Elite PR campaign about Reapers being secret government weapons—helping solve crimes and fix problems and stuff. But no one believed it. It was made up.”

That was the part that bothered me—how could she know it was made up any more than she could know it was true?

“So what do we do now?”

“We tell Daniel,” she said. “And we hope he likes the deal we just worked out.”

My fingers were crossed.

16

After the excitement of our morning meeting, classes passed by in a blur. The teachers still technically did the teaching, but everybody was focused on parents’ night. Dinner was actually awesome—the girls attending parents’ night got a full-on catered meal, so the kitchen staff didn’t have time to cook a separate round of slurry for us. Instead, they ordered pizzas. A lot of pizzas. The bites I choked down were delicious, but I was nervous enough about our lingering problems that I didn’t have much of an appetite.

Study hall was also canceled, which made our evening plans a lot simpler. As soon as we made it back to the room after dinner, Scout dialed up Gaslight Goods, switched it to speakerphone, and put the phone down on the table.

“Gaslight Goods. Let us be your light in the midst of life’s darkness, the sunlight in your foggy day, the candle in your wind. This is Kite. How can I help you today?”

I grimaced. That was their opener?

“Kite, it’s Scout.”

“Hi, Scout. What can I do you for?”

“Information,” she said. “We need to know what Fayden Campbell bought from your store. Do you by chance remember what that was?”

“I’m sorry, Scout, I don’t. I didn’t process her order.”

“Kite,” Scout said, her tone serious. “We have a really strong suspicion that she’s behind the blackout. If you tell me what she bought, that might help us stop her. But if we can’t stop her, and no one has magic, pretty soon she will be your only real customer. I will not be dropping my parents’ hard-earned dough on the newest-fangled salt because I will have no magic. And nobody else will, either. Is that what you want?”