I thrust my shoulders back and took a deep breath. “So,” I said, holding the page I’d torn out of the book, “we all have items of David’s, right?”

Ryan lifted the journal he’d taken from David’s desk, while Bee waggled the pen. I took the jump drive out of my pocket, and we each threw our item onto the ground in front of us. In the distance I could hear a car go by, and overhead the moon was bright.

“All right, now we all need to picture David in our minds, as clearly as we can.”

Sighing, Ryan closed his eyes and shifted his weight. “I’m all for finding the guy,” he said, lifting one foot to scratch the opposite ankle with his toe, “if that’s what you really want, Harper, but I have to admit, standing in a field on a moonlit night picturing his face feels kinda weird.”

Bee gave a little snort of laughter that she tried to cover with her hand, and I frowned at both of them. “Y’all. Focus.”

When the three of us linked hands, I could feel the vague thrum of magic surging through us. It wasn’t strong, the way it was when we did it with David, but it was still there, and I took some comfort in that. So my powers were fading, or kind of on the fritz. At least they weren’t gone.

But if your powers are fading, some evil voice in the back of my mind whispered, why are Bee’s and Ryan’s just as strong as ever?

That wasn’t something I wanted to think about too hard, so I lowered my head, trying to ignore the dull ache still at the base of my scalp from where that girl had pulled my hair.

David. I was focusing on David. I called him up in my mind as best as I could, trying not to remember how he’d looked those last few days—his skin grayish, his cheekbones too prominent, his eyes haunted—but how he used to look, back when we first fell into this thing.

That David grinned at me in my mind’s eye, his blond hair sticking up in weird little tufts, his eyes blue behind his glasses. I thought of the freckles across the bridge of his nose, and the way he would lift just one corner of his mouth in a smile. I thought of the way he called me Pres, and how his hands would flex on my waist when we kissed.

I thought of the night we’d gone out to the golf course to try to help David have a vision.

Or, more accurately, I thought of what had happened after, when we’d gone back to David’s house.

Thank goodness it was dark because I’m pretty sure my face flamed red at that memory. And thank goodness Bee and Ryan couldn’t read my mind during this little hand-holding sesh because, man, would that have been awkward.

Well, more awkward than it already was, doing a spell to literally force him to come back to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting to happen. For the three of us to suddenly get some picture of where David was? Like a hologram in those stupid sci-fi movies he liked? Or that we’d just suddenly know where he was, the way I knew how to get to Ryan’s house or how to maneuver my way to Bee’s locker?

But in the end, we just stood in that hot field, grass tickling our calves, our palms sweaty against one another’s, and there was no sign of David, no sudden realization of where he’d been hiding or what he was doing.

Why he was making Paladins.

Frustrated, I dropped Bee’s and Ryan’s hands, wiping my palms on the back of my shorts. “Anything?” I asked, wondering if they’d felt something different. Maybe it was just me who couldn’t find David. But they both shook their heads, too, Ryan toeing at the dirt, Bee worrying the end of her braid in her fingertips.

“We could try something else?” I wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea of staying in this field. I was pretty sure I’d heard something scuttle through the tall grass on the side of the bare spot where we stood, but I wasn’t ready to give up. “That was just one ritual; maybe there are other things?”

I really wanted there to be, trust, but it had taken us over an hour just to find this one, and having dragged them out to the middle of a field for no apparent reason, I felt more than a little silly. Plus all the adrenaline was finally wearing off, and I was suddenly really exhausted. All I wanted was to go home, get a shower, and collapse into bed, maybe try to forget this entire night had ever happened.

But I didn’t have that luxury. I might not be nearly as connected to David as I had been, but that didn’t mean I could just leave him. And not only for him, but for everyone else

Sighing, I turned to head back to the car, wondering why I’d ever thought this was going to work. There had been a time when I’d prided myself on being the most competent girl in the room, the one who always knew what to do. But the deeper I got into all this Paladin stuff, the more I seemed to be screwing it up. Maybe whoever that crazy new Paladin girl had been, she was . . . better than me.

It was an unsettling thought, as was the idea that that girl was still out there.

My head full and my heart heavy, I trudged through the tall grass, Bee and Ryan following behind. We were nearly to the edge of the field when Ryan made a weird noise, almost like something had surprised him.

I whirled around. He was standing still, one hand pressed to his chest, the heel of his palm rubbing over his heart.

“What?” I asked. “Did you see something or feel something or—”

He held up his free hand, still frowning. “No. Or . . . kind of. I don’t know. It was like something just . . . thumped me, but inside.” He tapped his chest again.

We all stood still in the field, chins slightly lifted like we’d be able to sniff something on the wind. Which was stupid, of course, but there did seem to be a feeling in the air, a vague electric sizzle that had the hairs on my arms lifting.

Or maybe I was just hoping too hard that this had worked.

After a moment, Ryan rubbed his chest again and shook his head, his hair falling nearly over his eyes. “It’s gone now. Whatever it was.”

I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. “That’s that, then,” I said, but even as I turned to go, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

But what I did believe is that if we couldn’t summon David to us, we were going to have to find him.

I just had no idea how.

Chapter 8

THE COUNTRY CLUB was crowded that Sunday, which was always the case on afternoons after church. It seemed like the whole town would come out, which wasn’t exactly a surprise since the Sunday buffet was pretty legendary. After last night’s trauma, I could have used at least an entire plate of mac and cheese (considered a “vegetable” here in Alabama, of course, kind of the way little pear halves filled with mayo were occasionally referred to as a “salad”), and I moved through the line, happily filling my plate. I’d need another hour of training to work it off, but some things are worth the effort.

Next to me, Bee reached for the big spoon dipped into a tray of steaming green beans. “I had some seriously weird dreams last night,” she confessed, ducking her head low enough so that I was the only one who could hear her.

I glanced behind us. My parents were sitting at a big round table with my aunts, and Bee’s family was sitting at the next table over. Ryan sat with them, which was a little weird—there had been so many Sundays when Ryan sat at our table—but no one was really looking over at me and Bee.

Moving down the line, I picked up some tongs, poking around in the giant bread basket for a cornbread muffin. “You and me both,” I admitted.