Chapter Thirty-Eight

My mother had escaped, but the good news was that nobody else had died. She probably would have killed me, except she knew I had the Blood of Life but didn’t know where I’d hidden it. We’d destroyed the last crying violet so no one would be able to cast that terrible spell ever again.

When we got to Vaughn’s house, there was no sign of Mr. Sheridan. I wasn’t sure how we were going to break the news to him that his girlfriend was a killer.

Vaughn shouted into the silence. We walked through the house, but it was empty.

“She has my dad,” Vaughn said, waving his phone at me. His dad had sent him a text. “They’re eloping. Damn it, they’ve gone to Vegas to get married.”

A piece of paper was pinned to the fridge with a magnet. It was a wedding announcement for Vanessa Mariotti and Adam Sheridan. Underneath, written in pen were the words, Trade you. Bring the ruby.

He stomped to his room, and I followed him.

He started shoving clothes into a duffel bag. “What are you doing?”

“Call the pack,” he said. “We’re going after them.”

I wouldn’t bet on our chances of making it back home unscathed, but I couldn’t let my mother marry Vaughn’s dad, especially not now that I knew how many werewolves she’d killed to seem human.

My best friend was barely talking to me, though, and I couldn’t really blame her. She loved Connor, and my inability to see my mother for who she really was had almost gotten him killed.

“I’m coming, too,” I said.

Vaughn and I agreed we’d pack a bag and meet at my house.

He texted me that he was at the bungalow, and I stepped outside, carrying my duffel, snacks for the road, and my trusty drumstick. The Blood of Life ruby was in the duffel, still concealed in the hollowed-out book. I could feel the cloud of menace that hung over it. I didn’t want the gem anywhere near me, but I didn’t have a choice. 

I wasn’t expecting to see all our friends waiting for me.

Skyler and Connor were on the porch, talking to Vaughn. She had an overnight bag at her feet.

“You’re coming with us?” I asked. I didn’t want to smile at her, but I couldn’t help it. No matter how mad she was at me, there was no way my best friend would let me go to Vegas without her.

“I have to make sure your mother doesn’t try to kill my boyfriend again,” she said coldly, but there was a hint of a smile in her eyes.

For the first time, I noticed the large passenger van parked in my driveway. It was purple and black with some sort of mural painted on it.

“What is that monstrosity?” I asked. “It looks like Prince puked up on the Magical Mystery Machine.”

“It’s mine,” Beckett said from the driver’s seat. “Now get your cute butt in the van. We need to get on the road. We’re going to Vegas, baby!”

I was going back on the road, this time with a pack of werewolves. What’s the worst that could happen?

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