CHAPTER EIGHT

“HE SAID WHAT? And you did what?” Aveda turned from the mirror she’d been using to scrutinize her dorm party outfit and goggled at me.

“He knew it was me,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Maybe it was because the glamour started to fade, or maybe it was the way I argued with him that pinged something. I don’t know.”

“I can at least help you with the glamour part.” Scott gave me his easy, lopsided grin—he’d made the trip over to the East Bay for emergency glamour assistance and was now taking in our cramped little dorm room.

By the time I’d gotten back to our room, my Eliza Takahashi façade had unraveled entirely. My hair was curly, my freckles had resurrected themselves, and my nails were back to their raggedy state. This was decidedly not great if Aveda and I wanted to maintain our cover, especially considering that Richard had recognized me as soon as the glamour started to unravel.

“I’m still confused about how he recognized you,” Aveda said. “I know the glamour was unraveling, but it wasn’t totally gone. And you always said you didn’t argue with him that much when you two were together—you were Mouse Evie.”

“I referenced certain things when I was fighting with him,” I mused. “Things that someone he’d just met wouldn’t necessarily know. The kinds of books he likes, the tropes he favors, the stuff he deems good writing or whatever. Maybe it was just enough to remind him of me—maybe what I said seemed weirdly intimate.” I couldn’t help but feel the same little flutter of satisfaction I’d gotten when I’d been arguing with him. In hindsight, it probably hadn’t been the smartest move, but I just couldn’t help it. When he’d shut down, interrupted, and dismissed Pippa over and over, when I’d seen her deflate, the rage had just poured out of me and I hadn’t been able to stop it.

“And how did you get away from him?” Aveda asked.

“I kept denying it, telling him he’d confused me with someone else. Predictably, he wouldn’t let it go—”

“Ah, the kind of white man who’s convinced he’s right about everything, including other people’s lived experiences,” Aveda sniffed.

“—until I gently reminded him that not all Asian people look alike,” I said, a smug grin playing across my lips.

“Oh my god.” Aveda’s eyes widened. “Let me guess, he immediately pivoted to telling you how he’s not a racist, and is in fact quite woke, and then—”

“He told me about that one time he visited Kyoto and tried to speak to me in Japanese,” I said.

“I knew it!” Aveda shrieked—and we both dissolved into giggles.

“Back to the glamour,” Scott said, giving us an amused look. “I’m so sorry, Evie, these are powered by a somewhat gentler magic than my usual tokens.” He scrutinized the glamour token in his hand, a round bit of wood about the size of a nickel. “Something about how that magic interacts with your body chemistry threw it off.”

“Are you saying this is all because of my weirdo pregnant body?” I groaned. “Haven’t you ever glamoured a pregnant person before?”

“Yeah,” Aveda said, looking indignant. “Next you’ll be telling me shit won’t work because I’m on my period or something.”

“Not what I’m saying, Annie, my love,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender and chuckling a bit. “I have made glamour tokens for pregnant people before—I believe the issue here is that Evie isn’t just a pregnant person, she’s a pregnant superheroine. And her baby isn’t just part superheroine, it’s part demon. There’s a lot going on here that there’s absolutely no precedent for. Figuring out the magic component is going to require some experimentation.”

“Well, great,” Aveda huffed. “Just make sure it works, please. Maintaining our cover is very important, here.”

“Of course,” he said, giving her another disarming grin. And because Aveda could never stay irritated with him for long, she melted instantly, giving him a soft half-smile in return.

“This one should be more stable,” Scott said, passing me a new glamour token. “The magic is stronger, and I tried to focus it on keeping up the illusion. But you might have to concentrate harder to maintain it—you’ll need to be more aware of the glamour. Call me immediately if you have any more problems.”

“Will do,” I said, taking it from him and manufacturing one of my pasted-on smiles—even though all I could think was this was yet another thing for me to worry about.

“And now I should probably go,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you two are going to a dorm party. Should I tell Nate?” He’d meant for that to be teasing, but I stiffened, my smile becoming more fake.

“Um. Maybe best not to,” I muttered.

Scott’s easy grin dissolved. “Are you guys okay? He was in kind of a mood when he got back to HQ yesterday. Although sometimes with him, it’s hard to tell if that mood is actually a bad thing or just an extension of his usual self.”

“We’re fine,” I said, mustering a fake smile that made my face hurt.

“Anyway, back to the mission,” Aveda said, studying me intently. I’d passed out last night before I could fully fill her in on my fight with Nate—all she really knew was that our visit hadn’t ended super well. “I’d invite you to the party, Scott, but I need to be on tonight.” Her brows drew together, her expression morphing into one of intense determination. “And you’re much too distracting to me.”

“I can stay for a little longer,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Distract you before your mission?”

“Ahem,” I said, making a big show of clearing my throat as they leaned in for a kiss. “Can you guys distract each other outside, please? This dorm room is very small and I love that y’all are so in love, but I don’t need to be part of your love. In that way.”

“We’ll go out to the car,” Aveda said, sticking her tongue out at me. “I know you’re probably due for your seventh mid-day nap anyway. Or I guess this would be the early evening nap?”

“True, true,” I said, trying and failing to suppress a mighty yawn.

“Then I’ll leave you to that,” Aveda said. “But you know, Evie, as college roomies, we really need to think of some kind of signal for when one of us is using this room for sex purposes. I’m thinking the classic scrunchie on the door—”

“Whoa, whoa,” I said, laughing through my next yawn. “I’m not sure that’s what the kids are doing these days, but where did you learn about the classic scrunchie on the door?”

“I overheard some of my fellow students talking about it!” she said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “And I want to fit in with them—for undercover purposes.”

“Riiiiiight,” I said, still laughing. “All right, scrunchie on the door, you got it. Bye, Scott.”

He waved to me as Aveda dragged him out of the room. I shook my head, letting my head flop back onto the pillow. I was suddenly so tired. But as I drifted off, Scott’s words floated through my head:

She’s a pregnant superheroine.

Her baby is part demon.

There’s a lot going on here that there’s absolutely no precedent for.

I was glad Nate hadn’t been here to hear that—it would have made him worry even more. I checked my phone, half hoping to see a text from him. But there was nothing. And before I knew what was happening, I was asleep.

---

I was awakened by Aveda gently shaking my shoulder.

“Mmm,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Only about an hour since I left you here. We have plenty of time to get ready,” she said, grinning at me. Her cheeks were flushed, her potential dorm party outfit looked rumpled, and her previously pristine ponytail was askew.

“Did you just have sex in Scott’s car?” I yawned, sitting up and running a hand through my tangled hair.

“I sure did!” she sang out, dancing across the threadbare carpet and over to the mirror. “We almost got caught twice by people wandering by—totally hot.”

“You are truly embracing this wild college lifestyle,” I said, laughing a little.

“Did you ever do that when you were here?” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Was Richard a fan of semi-public copulation?”

“Most definitely not,” I snorted. “He was so paranoid about keeping his professor gig. It’s always been extremely important to him—getting caught having car sex would have been a blemish on his reputation—”

“Getting caught having car sex with a student,” Aveda interjected. “That would have been more than a mere ‘blemish,’ I think.”

“I guess now I can see why it was important to him—lording his terrible opinions over his students is the one thing that makes him feel superior and manly-like,” I mused. “Any affection had to be confined to where people wouldn’t see us—which is one reason coming across him in the library like that was such a surprise.”

“Hmm.” Aveda made a big show of adjusting her ponytail in the mirror. “Isn’t it funny, Evelyn, that you claimed I’d be the one to lose it on Richard? But it was you.”

“I know, I know,” I groaned, covering my face. “I had more pent-up rage than I realized. But yeah, I’m super embarrassed that I couldn’t get through a whole class without nearly blowing our cover. That doesn’t bode well for us accomplishing our mission.”

“Nonsense,” Aveda said, crossing the room and flopping next to me on the bed. “I’m proud of you. You took down that pompous asshole, showed all those students they don’t need to listen to him, and you managed to get us a solid lead with the dorm party, where you can finally talk to Shelby Tran. That’s some top-notch superheroine detective work, Evie. You’re like—who are those British murder show ladies Lucy loves so much? Smart and Ailey?”

“Scott and Bailey,” I said, giggling again.

Aveda grinned at me, pulling herself into a sitting position. “This is nice.”

“What, us hanging out together?” I teased. “Don’t we do that all the time? Isn’t that basically our life at this point?”

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes at me. “But I meant, it’s fun to hang out like this. Like we’re just two carefree college girls, getting ready for a party. I don’t think either of us ever got to be that, you know? I became Aveda Jupiter as soon as we got our powers, dedicated my entire life to that. And you . . .” Her gaze softened, and she reached over to brush my unkempt tangle of curls off my face. “You had so many responsibilities after your dad left. More than you should have.”

“Yeah, but presumably I could have gone to more dorm parties when I was an undergrad,” I said, propping my head up on my elbow and studying Aveda’s Heroic Trio poster. “It just never really seemed like my thing. And then Mom got sick and I moved home and . . . well. Anyway.” My gaze wandered over Michelle Yeoh’s fabulous mane of hair, blowing in the wind. “I did actually go to one dorm party when I was here at Morgan. Richard and I stayed late grading papers and Bea had gotten in trouble at school that week, and I was just so stressed and exhausted . . .”

I paused and shook my head, remembering that bone-deep feeling of tiredness, the way every inch of my brain had screamed at me for a break—just one fucking break. “I heard it happening as I was walking across campus to my car. Passed by the dorm and there was all this laughing and music blasting and people having fun. I poked my head in. Accepted one drink. Ended up getting drunk off my ass.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Aveda murmured.

“It was, in the moment. I also remember stumbling across campus after, knocking on Richard’s door, and trying to seduce him.”

“What!” Aveda shrieked, punching me in the arm.

“Ow!” I yelped, batting her hand. “Can you not? I haven’t developed those biceps of steel yet.”

“Nor will you ever, given your current nonexistent workout routine,” Aveda sniffed. “I just didn’t realize Mouse Evie was so hornt up.”

“She kind of wasn’t,” I said. “But I think she kept hoping that sex with Richard would somehow magically get better the more we did it. Or maybe she just didn’t realize it was bad—remember, my only other sexual experience at that point was with Scott during prom, and it was not good. I don’t think I quite realized that I was supposed to enjoy myself, you know? Anyway, he just wrinkled his nose and told me to come back when I wasn’t so sloppy.”

“Ugh,” Aveda said. “He just keeps getting worse and worse with every story you tell.”

“I called a cab I couldn’t afford,” I remembered. “All the way back to the city. I felt so humiliated. And when I got home . . .” I hesitated, and was surprised to feel my throat tighten. I forged on, focusing on Michelle and her amazing hair for strength. “Bea was curled up in the tiniest little ball in my bed. She had a hundred and two degree fever.”

It was shocking how quickly the feelings I’d had in that moment came flooding back: the sickly heat of Bea’s skin when I’d pressed a hand to her forehead, the sudden sensation of the walls closing in, the toxic bubble of guilt that threatened to overwhelm me. I’d managed to get my baby sister to the hospital, where she’d stayed for three days with a severe case of that year’s flu. I’d fallen way behind on my schoolwork, but I didn’t care—I just wanted her to be okay.

“Evie.” Aveda touched my hand. “I remember this a little—Bea being in the hospital and such. When I asked if you needed anything, if you wanted me to come be with you . . . you said no. That everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine, was it?”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” I said, my gaze drifting away from Michelle. “But at that point in my life, I was so focused on keeping anything I was feeling on total lockdown, and on just getting through the day without letting on how hard it was. I don’t think I even admitted to myself how hard it was.” I turned and smiled at her. “And anyway, you and I weren’t quite in the place of trust that we are now.”

“True,” Aveda said, studying my face. “But this is convincing me even more that you should take this opportunity to do all the stuff you never got to do. Like enjoy yourself at a freaking dorm party.”

“You mean we should rage all night and spend the next day skipping class and going all in on the big, greasy breakfast hangover cure?” I rested a hand on my stomach. “I don’t think I can do that right now.”

“Okay, maybe not exactly that.” Aveda squeezed my hand. “But we can at least have fun, no?” She grinned at me, a mischievous smile playing over her lips. “You should call Nate. I know he made it through med school, but I don’t think he had the most fun college experience either, being on the run from his evil demon mom and all. Maybe the two of you could have fun together.”

I shook my head. “I don’t—”

“I mean sex,” Aveda said.

“I got that. I just meant . . .” I frowned, staring into space. “We’re not communicating very well at the moment.”

“You mentioned that you had a fight last night,” Aveda said. “But maybe that would be a good way to make up? What were you fighting about, anyway?”

“I . . .” I trailed off, trying not to let the frustration I’d felt the night before overwhelm me. “He wanted me to come back to HQ with him, give up on the mission and let you do it yourself. He’s worried about me—my health. But also . . .” I curled my raggedy nails against my palms. “He thinks Shasta might be back.”

“What?!” Aveda shook her head at me. “Why?”

“A combination of underground chatter and some dreams he’s been having,” I said. “I don’t know. I . . . I hate seeing him like this. I hate that he’s worried. But I feel like he’s smothering me right now, and I don’t know how to convince him that I’m really, really fine. Anyway. I think it’s better for us to make this a girls’ night.”

“In the midst of our Slot and Kayley superheroine detective work,” Aveda said, studying me. I could tell there was something she wasn’t quite saying—but she was trying to let it go.

“Scott and Bailey,” I corrected, happy to change the subject. “But speaking of detective work, what’s our plan for tonight? I’m going to try to casually talk to Shelby, building on our obvious mutual disdain for Richard and all the meaningful eye contact we made during class.”

“Perfect,” Aveda said, nodding. “Meanwhile, I’ll be trying to speak to one Tess Gonzalez, the Bio student I was trying to track down today—they weren’t in class, but they do live in Mara Dash, so I’m hoping they’ll be there tonight.”

“You’ll have to drink enough for both of us,” I said, pushing off from the bed and getting to my feet. “Since I can’t partake right now.” I stood in front of the mirror, considering my reflection. Aveda joined me, resting her arm on my shoulder and leaning against me.

After chatting with a few of our dorm neighbors, we’d concluded that tonight’s dorm party dress code was casual and comfy, but a step up from wearing actual pajamas. Aveda had taken it upon herself to customize a pair of oversized Morgan College t-shirts for us, chopping off the sleeves and cutting out the necklines so they fell a bit off our shoulders, Flashdance style. We’d paired the shirts with black leggings and sneakers. I was wearing my usual beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors. Aveda, who didn’t really do sneakers unless she was exercising, had purchased a brand-new pair. They were white, pristine, and looked like she’d worn them right out of the store.

“I appreciate your dedication to our undercover disguises,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at her reflection in the mirror. “But you might want to dirty those shoes up before the party—you know, to look like you’ve actually worn sneakers before. Ever. In your life.”

“Hmm . . .” Aveda’s brow crinkled as she looked down at her feet. “You’re probably right. I think I saw a big ol’ patch of mud outside, next to the top of the hill. Maybe I’ll pay that a little visit before the party.”

I couldn’t help but grin, picturing Aveda Jupiter stomping through the mud, face screwed into a look of grim determination.

“Our jobs are pretty ridiculous sometimes,” Aveda said.

She linked her arm through mine, resting her head on my shoulder. For a moment, we did look like carefree college girls, getting ready for a party. About to have the time of our lives, nothing else to worry about.

A surprising swell of warmth rose in my chest.

“Our jobs are ridiculous,” I said. “But there’s no one I’d rather do this with.”