Page 35 of Hex You

“Yeah, you’re right, Tiff.” Yuzu Kylie looked down at the rectangle again and lifted her hand to tap on it.

“Miss York, you know my rule about phones at practice. Put it away—now!”

Yuzu Kylie flushed as red as her shorts and hastily put the phone in her pocket. Nure-Onna bared her fangs silently at the intruding adult, who continued to give the girls orders.

“Look, I know school is almost over for the year, but we have two more pep rallies—not to mention tryouts for next year’s squad in six weeks. So you girls need to look sharp. I want you to practice the dance for the routine you’re doing to the Taylor Swift medley, and I mean full-out. Perform like you’re in the gym with everyone watching. Then I want to see some tumbling passes.” The adult looked around the grassy area. “I thought the mats were already out here, but I see I’m mistaken. Okay, well, while you’re practicing the dance I’ll grab one of them and drag it over here so I can spot you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the girls shouted together.

“Good. Now I’ll go get that mat while you get that dance practiced.”

As soon as the adult left, the dark-skinned girl touched yuzu Kylie’s arm. “Go over there by the field and call him. We can start the dance without you.”

“Thanks, Heather.” Yuzu Kylie hurried to the edge of the field.

Nure-Onna gnashed her fangs. Had she practiced her usual patience she would now be within striking distance. She could coil around yuzu Kylie, inhale her delicious citrus scent—and then drink all of her blood. Why had she moved? She knew better! Slowly, silently, the enormous serpent slithered backward. If she could just reach that edge of the field yuzu Kylie would be hers!

“Where’s Jax?” Yuzu Kylie’s voice had gone flat and lost its sweetness.

The group of girls yuzu Kylie had walked away from laughed as one of them did what Nure-Onna considered a rather awkward dance move and music blared from yet another small rectangular box. Yuzu Kylie frowned, covered one ear, and stepped even closer to the field.

“The locker room bathroom?” asked yuzu Kylie, clearly angry.

Nure-Onna had finally made it to the field. As she glided silently toward the sweet scent of yuzu, Kylie’s voice got harder, more clipped, more filled with anger.

“It’s fine, H. I get it. I have to go. Tell him I’ll call him after cheer practice.”

Yuzu Kylie tapped the rectangle again just as the adult woman tossed a thick mat down near her and said, “That’s it, Miss York. I’ll take that phone.”

Yuzu Kylie whirled around and stared at the adult, her freckled face pink with anger. “Actually, Coach Livingston, I have a family emergency and I need to go. My mom will write you a note or whatever.” And she stormed past the gaping adult.

Nure-Onna had been seconds from striking and feeding, and as yuzu Kylie strode from the field she was filled with gnawing anger that was almost as dark and urgent as her desire to possess the blood of the sweet young girl. She considered attacking the adult—of making her pay for the loss of her delectable yuzu fruit—but Nure-Onna was not a fool. The other girls would see her strike the adult. They were mere children—they had no katana with which to strike herhead from her shoulders. They could not harm her. They could not even subdue her. But they could warn others—and byothersNure-Onna meant her yuzu Kylie. That would make the goddess angry. An angry goddess would not reward her servant, and shemustbe rewarded—shemusthave her child returned to her from the depths of the lake into which they had both disappeared, mother and son, so very long ago.

A wave of longing washed through Nure-Onna, making her scaled body tremble with need.

She would kill yuzu Kylie—for the goddess and for her own insatiable need to be reunited with her precious child. Nure-Onna only had to be just a little patient—and she was exceptionally good at exercising patience.

FIFTEEN

Emily parked the T-bird on Main Street directly in front of Foxfire Woodstove Pizzeria.

“My parking karma is golden,” Em said.

“I don’t know how you do it,” said Mercy as she folded down the front seat so Khenti could climb out of the car. “And Main Street’s hopping tonight.” She looked up and down the unusually busy street that bisected the heart of the town and grimaced as she wiped salty sweat from her face. “Ugh, it’s barely spring andalreadyso humid it’s like I could squeeze water from the air. Everyone should be inside in the air-conditioning.”

“Maybe the stores are running some kind of special,” said Em as they made their way to the pizzeria.

“Is it Mustang Days already?” Mercy frowned as she watched a man she thought might be the potbellied guy in charge of the IGA’s deli park his vintage Camaro just a couple spots down from them, slam its door, and practically charge out into traffic to yell“You need to learn how to fucking drive”at Mrs. Ritter—who looked super shocked as she sped around him.

“He is very angry.” Khenti watched the deli manager get back into his car and fishtail away, tires smoking.

“Yeah, that’s super strange,” said Mercy. “He was yelling at Mrs. Ritter. Did you see her face? She was totally not expecting that.”

“Adults are weird. Road rage is a real thing with them,” said Em.

“Yeah, I guess so. They’re—” Mercy began, but as they reached the door of the pizzeria she stopped. “Wait, guys, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Em asked, pausing behind her.