Хлоя Нейл - Hexbound

And on the other side of the table, something much more pleasant—a contingent from Montclare. Michael, Jason, and John Creed—of the dark brows and moody dark eyes—sat in a line, all spiffy and perfect in their sweaters and button-up shirts.

All three boys smiled when they saw me, but Michael’s smile flattened pretty fast,

probably when he realized Scout wasn’t following me into the room.

“She’s not much of a party planner,” I quietly explained.

“Party pooper,” he muttered.

I smiled at him, and then at Jason, my cheeks warming a little at the secret smile on his face and the glow in his sky blue eyes. I felt like a nervous little kid, my stomach full of butterflies. Here I was—only a few weeks out of Sagamore, and I was talking to a boy who turned into a wolf at will. A boy who’d jumped in front of me to keep me safe. Was it crazy cool? Yes. And unexpected and strange, and still a little bit nerve-racking. We hadn’t really gotten to that point of comfort yet, where you just sink into the relationship, where you’re actually just dating , instead of thinking about the possibility and constantly analyzing it.

Veronica cleared her throat, then gazed at us expectantly.

“Now that we’re all here,” she said, “let’s get down to business. Our theme for this year’s Halloween Sneak, already decided, is Graveyard Glam.”

John gave three loud claps. “I like it already. Meeting dismissed.”

Veronica gave him a half smile. “Keep your pants on, Mr. Creed. The theme is only the first item on the checklist.”

Did Adepts even get Halloween off? It seemed like that would be a busy night for us.

“Last year’s Sneak was held at Navy Pier.”

There were oooh’s and aaah’s from the other girls. I knew what Navy Pier was—

an amusement park-type complex deal a few blocks away—but I hadn’t yet been there.

“This year, we want to do something a little more mysterious.”

Dakota/Taylor popped up a hand. “How about the Art Institute? Plenty of secret corners in there.”

“Already done,” Veronica said. “Two years ago.”

“Pritzker Pavilion?” Taylor asked. “We could have it outside?”

M.K. huffed. “Have you been outside in Chicago in October? Nobody’s gonna want to wear a Marchesa mini in the 312 when it’s rainy and fifty degrees.”

“It was just an idea.”

“And we’ve ixnayed it,” Veronica matter-of-factly said. “Next?”

Creed raised a hand.

Veronica gave him a catty look. “Do you have something substantive to add?”

“Only that my father has a yacht.”

Figured.

Veronica crossed her arms. “I’ve seen your father’s yacht, John Creed. It’s not enough boat for all of us.”

“Are you insulting the size of my father’s boat?”

“Only in reference to Sneak. Other ideas?” Veronica scanned the room, and her gaze stopped on me. “Parker?” she asked, with a challenging bob of her shoulders.

“Um, I really haven’t been in Chicago very long.” And more important, you don’t want any part of the things I’ve seen.

“Great. You’re all clearly going to be a huge asset to getting this thing off the—”

“Field Museum.”

Veronica stopped midinsult, then tilted her head at Jason. “What do you mean,

Field Museum?”

“The Chicago Field Museum.” He leaned forward and linked his hands on the table. “I went to a bar mitzvah there once. You can rent out the main hall. I’m sure it’s not cheap”—he shrugged—“but we can party with Sue. That might be sweet,

especially for Halloween.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be jealous or not. “Who’s Sue?”

“Sue,” Jason said, “is Chicago’s favorite Tyrannosaurus rex.” He mimicked claws and bared his teeth. “Very scary.”

“I’m not afraid of dinosaurs,” I assured him. “Trust me, I’ve seen worse.”

Personally, I thought that was true, but I crossed my fingers just in case I was jinxing myself.

“Grizzly bears?” Jason asked.

“What about grizzly bears?”

“Have you seen worse things than, let’s say, grizzly bears?”

I smiled slyly. “Yeppers.”

“What about wolves?”

“Those aren’t even a little scary.”

“Hmm,” he said, smiling slyly back. “Good to know.”

Veronica tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “Excuse me? Can we ixnay the bizarre wild kingdom flirting—assuming that’s what this is—and get back on topic?”

“Seriously,” M.K. said, putting a hand to her stomach. “It’s making me nauseous.”

I bit back a smile. Sure, Jason and I weren’t exactly being subtle, but this time I’d been the one to create drama for the brat pack, instead of the other way around.

That made a nice change.

“I like the Field Museum idea,” Veronica said. “I have to check with the boosters about the price, but it shouldn’t be a problem. One or two of them might even be on the board of directors.”

The “boosters,” I assumed, were the St. Sophia’s alumni who’d be donating a pretty penny so the juniors and seniors could have a luxe fall formal.

“Make the call,” John said. “And let us know.”

“Rest assured that I will,” Veronica said, then glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “That didn’t take nearly as long as it should have. Anything else we should discuss right now, unless any of you are dorky enough to want to go back to history class?”

I guess I wasn’t supposed to be flattered that M.K. turned and looked at me.

“Drinks. Food. Transportation. Dress code,” Amie recited.

Veronica rattled off responses: “Drinks and food will depend on the location. The Field Museum probably has some kind of contract with a caterer. Limos for the transpo, and the dress code will be formal.”

“Looks like you have things well in hand,” John said.

“I always do. If there aren’t any more questions, let’s break into subcommittees and get into the details.”

We all just looked at each other. Even M.K. looked confused. “V, you haven’t assigned any subcommittees.”

“They’re DIY subcommittees,” she said. “And if you don’t DIY, we have to go back to class.”

She stood there for a few seconds to let the implication sink in.

“Subcommittees it is,” John said, pushing back his chair and standing up. “My subcommittee’s meeting over here.”

“And what’s your subcommittee?” Amie asked, pen in hand.

“That would be the subcommittee on rocking. Rocking hard.”

I bit back a snort.

The girls divvied up their committees—decorations, food, etc.—and then everyone began milling around. I walked over to the Montclare side of the table.

After all, how often did we get a daytime visit from the boys in blue?

John Creed smiled in his way: a lazy half smile. “Hello, Sagamore.”

“Hello, Chicago.”

“You and Jason became fast friends.” He slid a glance to Jason, who was talking to one of the other girls. Since I’d been in Adept-denial at the time, I’d pretended not to know Jason the day I met John Creed. (I know, I know. I’d apologized later.)

“We’ve gotten to know each other,” I said vaguely. “I’m surprised you’re into party planning.”

“I’m into skipping class and spending time with private school girls.”

Mm-hmm. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Are you two going to Sneak together?”

I tried for a casual tone. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

His thick eyebrows lifted. “Really? Weird.”

“Have you invited someone?”

He scanned the girls in the room. “I’m keeping my options open. One never knows when opportunity is going to come knocking.” When his gaze landed on M.K., I tried not to grimace. I also bet money that Veronica was not going to be happy with that.