Kevin didn’t look up from the first-aid kit he’d pulled from the trunk. “Not yet,” he replied. “I think he did this just to let us know he can.”

Ben glanced down at the plastic bag in his hand. The inside was smeared with blood. His fingers tightened around it. “I’ll keep the razor.”

Kevin’s head snapped up as he closed the trunk. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m the only one Bent hasn’t come after. I can hide this—at least until we get Lark and Mace back and figure out what to do.”

“Gage needs help!” Roxi reminded them, sharply. “Now!”

Roxi climbed in with Gage, cradling his head. Kevin gave her a bottle of saline solution. “Pour this on his arms.”

I slipped into the front seat. I’d go see Lark after. Roxi didn’t question Kevin. She simply opened the bottle and squeezed the liquid onto Gage’s bare skin. I watched as the infection sizzled and blood ran pink. Salt had purification properties, and while I didn’t like the idea that there might be something impure about me, I respected the mineral’s power. I moved back to avoid being splattered.

Kevin drove fast to the hospital. It was the same one Mace had brought Lark to that day, her blood soaking into his clothes. I relived some of that fear as we pulled up in front of the emergency doors.

As we entered the hospital, Kevin glanced in my direction. “Wren, how bad is it?”

I wished I could lie to him and tell him I’d seen worse, but I hadn’t. “Bad,” I said. “Really bad.”

LARK

“You two can just wait in here,” Olgilvie said—rather gleefully, I thought—as he closed the door of the tiny room. Mace and I were sitting at a battered table on chairs with uneven legs. I waited until the door had shut before I raised my middle finger at it.

“There’s a camera,” Mace told me.

“I know,” I replied, slowly lowering my finger. I turned to him. “What happens now?

He shrugged. “My father will show up eventually, and either decide to make examples of us or let us go.”

“What are the chances of just letting us go?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t been too impressed with me lately.”

“And then there’s the fact that you’re with that crazy girl who tried to kill herself and dragged you into it.”

“There’s that.” He slumped in his chair, stretching his long legs out beneath the table. “What did you do to me back there?”

I pushed my chair back, put my feet up on the table. “I’m not sure. It worked on Sarah earlier, so I figured it was worth a shot. How do you feel?”

“Better, so it must be good, right?”

“Unless my touch triggered something ghostly, and made it worse, yeah. I guess.” God, what if I’d made it easier somehow for Bent to do his thing? “Still new to this stuff, remember? Figuring it out as I go.” Now I sounded guilty.

He held up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t say anything. Thanks, though. I thought it was going to kill me.”

“I think that was the intention.” God, I was so tired I could go to sleep right there in that really uncomfortable chair. After Haven Crest, being arrested wasn’t really all that scary. Though I wasn’t looking forward to seeing the disappointment on my grandmother’s face. Maybe she’d understand after I explained.

“So, I guess we’re even now. You and me.”

I stifled a yawn. “I guess so.”

Silence. Was this the same guy I had blathered away to on the lake? Who had blathered away to me like we were actually friends?

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few seconds had passed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did it hurt you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Wren’s going to be pissed at me for whacking her with that iron bar, though.” Olgilvie had taken that from me, along with my bag.

“Yeah, why’d you do that to her?”

“Bent was coming for her—calling for her. I had to get her out of there.”

He looked at me for a moment, a slight twist to his lips. “You’ve got a real hero complex, you know that?”

I made a face. “That’s hysterical coming from you.” Then I saw a flicker out of the corner of my eye. “Oh, crap.”

“What?”

I jerked my head to my right. I knew he couldn’t see what was there, but maybe he’d figure it out.

Ghost? he mouthed. I nodded. This was not a good time.

“I know you can see me,” the ghost said. He was a younger guy—maybe in his twenties—with long hair and a leather jacket. He looked like he should have been on tour with Bon Jovi in the ’80s.

I rolled my eyes. “I know that you know. So what?”

“Hey, we’ve met before, yeah? Like, last night. Wait, that wasn’t you, was it? I mean, it was you, but someone else was drivin’.”

“Hardly makes us BFFs, does it?”

He held up his hands, palms out. “Touchy. Just relax, JB. I won’t bite.”

I raised a brow. “JB?”

He grinned—he had good teeth. He would have been kind of hot if not for all that hair. “Jail Bait.”

And his personality. That definitely ruined his hotness more than the hair.

“You call me JB, so how about I call you DD?”

“Damn Dangerous?”

I smiled sweetly. “Dead Douche.”