Finale

it will be dark. The blackmailer won’t be able to tell it’s you in the mausoleum, not Pepper, until it’s too late.”
    Scott tugged the black hoodie he’d been carrying all night over his head, leaving the hood partly up to cover his face. “I’m a lot taller than Pepper,” he said
doubtfully.
    “Walk hunched over. Your sweatshirt is baggy enough that they won’t be able to tell the difference from a distance.” I faced Pepper. “Give me your phone number. Keep the
line open. I’ll call you the minute we have your blackmailer.”
    “I have a bad feeling,” Pepper said, wiping his palms on his trousers.
    Scott lifted the hem of his hoodie, revealing to Pepper his unusual belt, which was glowing an unearthly blue. “We aren’t going unprepared.”
    Pepper’s lips pinched together, but not before a wail of disapproval escaped. “Devilcraft. The archangels can never know I was involved in this.”
    “Once Scott immobilizes your blackmailer, Patch and I will rush in. This is about as simple as it gets,” I explained to Pepper.
    “How do you know they won’t have their own backup?” he challenged.
    An image of Dabria flashed across my mind. She had only one friend, and even that was putting it kindly. Too bad that one friend would be instrumental in bringing her down tonight. I
couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when Patch jabbed a sharp, and hopefully rusty, object in her wing scars.
    “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta roll,” Scott told me, glancing at his watch. “T-minus fifteen minutes.”
    I grabbed Pepper’s sleeve before he could run off. “Don’t forget your end of the bargain, Pepper. Once we have your blackmailer, you and Patch are done.”
    He nodded earnestly. “I’ll leave Patch alone. You have my word.” I didn’t like the spark of mischief that seemed to flare momentarily at the backs of his eyes. “But
I can’t help it if he comes looking for me,” he added cryptically.

C HAPTER

28
    S COTT DROVE HIS BARRACUDA ACROSS TOWN, AND I rode shotgun. He had the stereo turned low, playing Radiohead. His hard,
set features flashed in and out of sight as we passed under cones of streetlight. He drove with both hands on the steering wheel, at ten and two precisely.
    “Nervous?” I asked.
    “Don’t insult me, Grey.” He smiled, but it wasn’t relaxed.
    “So. What’s up with you and Vee?” I asked, trying to keep our minds off what lay ahead. No need to overthink things, or start imagining worst-case scenarios. It was Patch,
Scott, and me against Dabria. The take-down wouldn’t last more than a couple of seconds.
    “Don’t get all girlie on me.”
    “It’s a valid question.”
    Scott bumped the stereo up a few notches. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
    “So you
have
kissed!” I waggled my eyebrows. “Anything else I should know?”
    He almost smiled. “Absolutely not.” The cemetery came into view around the next bend, and he tipped his head toward it. “Where do you want me to park?”
    “Here. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
    Scott nodded. “Lots of trees. Easy to hide. You’ll be in the upper parking lot?”
    “Bird’s-eye view. Patch will be stationed by the south gate. We won’t let you out of our sight.”
    “
You
won’t.”
    I didn’t comment on the ongoing rivalry between Patch and Scott. Patch might hold Scott in the same regard as a snake underfoot, but if he said he’d be there, he would.
    We swung out of the Barracuda. Scott tugged his hoodie down to hide his face, and slumped his shoulders. “How do I look?”
    “Like Pepper’s long-lost twin. Remember, the minute the blackmailer enters the mausoleum, handcuff them with the whip. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
    Scott gave me a fist bump—good luck, I supposed—then took off at a steady jog toward the cemetery gates. I watched him swing over them with ease and disappear into the darkness.
    I called Patch. After several rings, it went to voice mail. Impatiently I told the recording, “Scott’s gone in. I’m heading to my post. Call me the minute you get this. I need
to know you’re in position.”
    I hung up, shivering against the gusts of icy wind. It rattled branches that autumn had stripped bare with a hollow, clanging sound. I stuffed my hands under my arms to warm them. Something
didn’t feel right. It wasn’t like Patch to ignore a call, especially one from me, during an urgent situation. I wanted to discuss this inopportune turn of events with