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I got up when she went back to reading her book and Sophie scurried out of the room. At
the door, I turned back one last time.  Where will I find someone to mix it and, you know? I
made a jabbing motion.
 You need a Magick Engineer, at least a level four. Try Ms. Weatherbee at the college.
 But Ms. Weatherbee is my guidance counselor.
She looked up from her book in disgust.  Really, Colby, are you so self-involved you don t
see the things around you? Ms. Weatherbee is an accomplished Magick Engineer whose skill
is greatly respected in the Undead community. She can help you mix it correctly but the  she
made the same jabbing motion back at me  is up to you.
I muttered a thanks and slunk out of the room, properly chastised. Ileana did notice
everything around her. She noticed whenever someone was wearing something new or had a
different hairstyle. She even figured out that Lucy was a vampire spy and not an innocent
half-blood, way before I pieced it together.
I looked at the time and wondered if Magick Engineers kept vampire hours. Probably not. I
would have to wait until the sun came up and try to find Ms. Weatherbee at school. I might
even catch a class or two. What a novel concept. This Prophesy was playing havoc with my
schoolwork.
I thought about Piper and her claims but decided to dwell on it later. I couldn t get into that
now. Should I call Thomas back? He d been so sweet before he fell asleep, just like the man I
fell in love with & and then that stupid demon had to ruin our time together. How long did I
have until Barnaby made his move to full-time occupancy? A day? A week? Longer? I
couldn t be sure. It seemed like it would be sooner rather than later if I could trust my gut.
I went downstairs in time to join a House meeting in full progress. Aunt Chloe went on
about the new weekly lists. We praised Sage for losing two pounds and talked about the suc-
cess of the blood drive. Apparently, we were actually able to give almost half of the blood to
the bank. Yay us. It still felt creepy, but maybe it wasn t so bad. At least, I kept telling myself
that.
Sophie caught me right as the meeting was ending and gave me a small brown bag. I
thanked her and took a quick sniff of the contents. Blech.
I had just enough time for a quick snack before heading off to school. I passed Mrs.
Murphy s house and when one of her cats spotted me, it let out a long, miserable yowl. Like it
was trying to wake the dead or something.
I ve got news for you kitty, I m already up, I thought.
It began to follow me. Surely I was mistaken. It looked like the same calico I made Sage
take back after Sophie  adopted it. The last thing I needed was a pathetic hanger-on cat who
wanted to be fed. I had to eat myself. I turned back to it.
 Shoo, cat. Beat it. I ve got stuff to do today.
It stood still and stared at me with yellow eyes. I turned to walk and sure enough, the cat
continued to follow me. Stupid cat. Fine, follow me all the way to school. You re not my re-
sponsibility.
I felt like a jerk walking ten paces in front of a cat who was walking in step with me. I de-
cided to lose it at the Starbucks. I went in one side and tried to mix in with the throng of
people waiting for their caffeine hit, then snuck out the side. I weaved around the back of sev-
eral businesses and back out to a side street. I looked back. No cat. I d lost it.
I was such a freak, taking the time and trouble to lose a cat that was probably just follow-
ing the smell of coffee and cream to get food. Still, I did give it the slip so part of me was
pleased with my ability to lose a tail. No pun intended.
I arrived on campus and made a beeline straight to Ms. Weatherbee s office. It was seven
in the morning but I was hoping she taught an early class and would stop by her office first.
Luck was on my side because I only had to wait ten minutes before she arrived.
She was of average height and size, dark hair pulled back with a barrette, juggling a
briefcase, her coffee mug and a purse, while trying to find her keys. She looked like any pro-
fessor on campus, probably in her thirties.
I jumped up to help her by taking the keys out of her hand and opening her door.
 Thank you, Colby. What a nice surprise, she said as she dumped her things on her chair
and desk.  Do you need any scheduling help? Are you thinking about next semester so
soon?
She sat down in her ergonomic chair and took a sip of her latte.
 No, Ms. Weatherbee, I m actually here to ask a favor, I replied.
She seemed surprised.  Really? Well, I ll certainly help if I can.
I handed her the list of ingredients and said,  I need help mixing these.
She tried to mask her surprise by making a great show of putting on reading glasses,
which I suspected she didn t really need. They looked more for show than actual purpose.
After reviewing the list, she looked at me with a new type of respect. Or a new type of disbe-
lief, I couldn t be certain.
 Are you aware of what this is?
 Yes, ma am.
 Then you know how to administer it?
 Sadly, I m aware.
She nodded.  Who s going to do it?
I took a deep breath.  Me, myself and I.
 It s best that way. Keeps the potion strong without diluting its purpose with another per-
son s energy. She took stock of me for a moment then asked,  Colby, do you want some ad-
vice?
I nodded.  Desperately.
She shot backward in her chair and turned at the last minute to fling open a filing cabinet.
She removed a vial that glistened and moved like mercury.
 I suggest adding this to your mix.
 What is it?
 Liquid silver. Aesthetically, it adds a nice shimmering quality to the potion; fundamentally,
it will boost the potency, helping create a more solid symbol.
I nodded and she added it to my bag.
 So you know what I m doing? I blurted out.
 I have a sneaking suspicion. Do you know what you re doing?
 Vaguely, I assured her with a half smile.
 Then what can possibly go wrong?
We shared a nervous laugh together. She took my bag and placed each one of the in-
gredients on her desk. Among the things I could identify were small bags of herbs, a sort of
paste, two rocks and a vial of dried black paint.
 Uh-oh, she said, opening the paint and sniffing it.  This won t work. It s dried. She
looked at the receipt and shook her head in dismay.  This is a very reputable distributor. I d
bet they gave you their last vial. Without this, your potion will be useless. I m so sorry, Colby.
She seemed genuinely distressed to share the news with me.
 Can t I use a substitute or find it online?
She shook her head at me.  How would you know it was pure if you bought it from some
unknown source on the Internet? This is too important to risk that. No, you re going to have to
come up with a Plan B. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]