Page 92 of The Debutantes
I swallow. I’m not sure where’s safe anymore, but I know I can’t be here. “Home, I guess.”
I give him the address, and he nods, pulling back into the street. “You said someone was following you?”
I hesitate. Coach isn’t in Deus. I can trust him. He could help. Still, the words won’t come out.
“Is this about the email?” he asks gently.
Oh god. In the panic of running from Marty, I almost forgot about it, but of course he’s seen it. Everyone will, if they haven’t already. My parents, Lily’s. Sav.
Coach works his jaw. “Listen, Atkins, I don’t know what went on, and I don’t need to, but don’t you let anybody make you feel like this is your fault, or like you’re a bad person. People screw up. And if you’re as good a friend as you are a teammate, which I’ll bet, then Lily’s lucky to have you.”
It’s like stepping into a hot shower after a game when it’s cold out: the sudden stinging shock to your system before the relief so sweet you could cry. I don’t even know if I believe him, but I needed to hear it so badly that now I can’t stop myself from telling him everything.
“Detective Rutherford is following me,” I tell him. “He’s the one working on Lily’s case, but he’s part of this secret Mardi Gras Krewe called the Pierrot, and I think they’re the reason Lily went missing. Do you know anything about it? Does your girlfriend, or—?”
“Whoa, slow down.” Coach glances between me and the road. “You said a secret Mardi Gras Krewe? Is it a Deus thing?”
“I think so. It’s a bunch of Deus members, at least. They did something to Margot Landry, and… I think they know where Lily is, too.”
Coach nods slowly, taking it all in, and for a second, I’m scared he’s about to tell me I sound insane. And maybe I do. Hell, he just picked me up barefoot in the French Quarter wearing adirty ball gown. I look it, too. But instead, he says, “Listen, Atkins, I don’t think this is something you should be taking on by yourself. Have you gone to the police or anything yet?”
“We can’t. Marty’s running the whole show.”
Coach chews his lip, thinking. I remember the dead phone in my hand.
“Do you have a charger in here?” I ask. “I should call April and Piper to check in.”
“Yeah, sure. In the glove compartment. I can—”
“Thanks.” As I open it, I feel Coach shift. Something tingles at the back of my neck, like I’m being watched by someone I can’t see. But I’m just being paranoid, I tell myself.
I plug my phone into the charger, and then take another long pull from the water bottle. As soon as I do, Coach reaches over to close the glove compartment, and it’s that exact moment that I catch sight of something poking out, plastic and shiny.
I block the door with my hand before he can shut it.
“Vivian,” Coach says. “Don’t—”
He tries to stop me again, but I’m quick, grabbing the thing and holding it up to the light. As soon as it’s in my hand, time slows down, everything moving with a blurry lag.
A wolf mask.
The Rougarou.
I look at Coach, confusion and rage and fear mixing all together, locking my voice in my throat. His head blurs into two, both with the same sad, pitying look, and distantly, I understand. The water bottle.
“I’m sorry, Atkins,” he says. “I didn’t want this to happen.”
The world starts to fuzz around the edges, and Coach flicks on the turn signal. It ticks away like the countdown of a bomb.
34PIPER
JANUARY 2, 11:15P.M.
For a moment, I’m stunned, like maybe I heard wrong, but no. I can read it all over her face, hear it clearly in her tone.Some questions, you’re better off not asking.
Mom knows what happened to Margot. Or at least she has suspicions she’s choosing to ignore.
And I know, suddenly, what I have to do.
