Free Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) by Rachel A. Marks Page B

right, this is a little sketchy. And once I take Ava, we’ll have to hide—her foster parents will call the police when they realize she’s disappeared, and it’s not like we can get in touch with them and explain what’s going on. Ava’s never had to hide, not like me. She’s always had a bed, food, and running water. She’s never had to depend on me like she’s about to.
    Kara waits in silence, maybe sensing my nerves.
    “She’s got music classes. Over there.” I point across the parking lot to a building on the west side of campus. “I don’t think her foster parents send the car until three thirty because she stays for extra practice hours. So we’ll have a good hour to cover our tracks.”
    “And how are we supposed to do that?”
    I chew on my lip, trying to decide if I should tell Kara what I’m about to do. She’s going to figure out about Ava eventually. But I really don’t want that guy Sid to know anything, or he’ll be looking at Ava the way he looked at me: like merchandise. “Just trust me. And don’t ask questions.”
    I bend down, pretending to tie my shoe to buy me a second. I focus my thoughts on Ava, pushing an image of myself out there, into the air, hoping she hears me: I’m coming . Then I stand and start toward the west buildings. Kara follows. We move through a line of BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes, and I ignore the stuff around me as much as I can. There’s a sleek wraith of a demon to my left following a young girl in a blue blazer who’s getting into the back of a black Lincoln; there’s a wash of envy and desperation coming from a tall brunette, about sixteen, who’s waiting for her ride as she stares down a bouncy blond walking by hand in hand with a guy with floppy hair.
    I try to focus on Ava, on where she might be. I can’t let her music tutor see me pick her up, so I need her to meet us halfway, maybe near the bathrooms. I picture the hall and the door to the bathrooms as I remember them, and then I push the image out to her as hard as I can.
    “You all right?” Kara says.
    “Fine.” I unclench my fists and try to relax, hoping my messages were received.
    “You look like you’re about to flip out. I’m not really in the mood to get arrested, so just be aware that I’ll deny knowing you if this goes bad.”
    “Calm down,” I mumble, trying to convince myself I’m not freaking out, that the ghost of a young girl in the window to my right isn’t making my flesh crawl. That I’m not worried I’ll screw this up and the system will swallow both of us again.
    Kara looks at me sideways. “Wise words.”
    We cross a grassy area and walk through an arched walkway with climbing roses. The mood in the air changes with the shift in our surroundings, and the lacy sunlight softens the jagged edges of my nerves.
    I glance at Kara; her eyes are half closed, like she can feel the calming energy from this place, too. “Thanks for the ride,” I say.
    She gives me a questioning look.
    “I mean I’m just glad I’m not doing this alone.”
    She considers me for a second and then says, “It’s gonna be fine, kid. Really.”
    I wish she hadn’t said that. Statements like that perk the ears of mischief-makers.
    We leave the peaceful archway and go through the double doors, into the wide hall.
    Where I collide with a gaggle of chattering girls.
    Books fall, squeals erupt, and I lurch away, trying to avoid stepping on any toes, only to lose my balance and land firmly on my ass. Of course .
    Kara’s quickly distanced herself—she’s already down the hall, by the lockers. No one would guess she was with the klutz that just barreled in. The guy trying not to be noticed.
    “Ohmygod, you okay?” one of the girls asks.
    “You almost broke my phone, you freak!” another one screeches as she tightens her shiny lips and messes with her iPhone.
    The third one in the group starts picking up some books. She reaches down with ink-stained fingers to grab the one by my hand—the one