“Right? I look hella badass, huh?” I say, flexing my fake biceps. “Toss a coin to your Witcher, peon!”

“Oh god, please stop, your Geralt voice is horrendous. You sound like you have strep throat or something. Don’t insult Henry Cavill like that. Speaking of hottie hot men with silver hair, how’s our Spencer doing?”

I roll my eyes at the insult and shrug one shoulder, glancing over to find Church sprawled on his bed, dressed as Fred Jones from Scooby-Doo. I won’t lie, he looks pretty damn hot with his hair coifed back like that, wearing blue jeans and a white shirt with an orange ascot tie. The guys have a theme going on here, dressing up like the full cast of mystery solving teens: Ranger is going as Daphne (I cannot wait to see this in person), Spencer as Velma (okay, also really excited to see this transformation), with the twins going as Shaggy and Scooby. I’m the only outlier, as per usual.

“We’ll get to see him in knee socks and an orange turtleneck if that helps?” I start, just before the door opens and I turn, bringing the phone with me to show off ‘those meddling kids’. A snort escapes before I can stop it, and I clamp a hand over my mouth.

“Not a word,” Ranger growls, dressed in heels, pink tights, and an orange wig. His makeup, however, is pretty damn flawless. Lots of sparkle around the lids. Spencer doesn’t look any happier, wearing glasses with no lenses, a short brown wig, and a pleated red miniskirt. Tobias is outfitted with a faux goatee and brown bell bottoms while Micah is swimming in a big, furry Scooby-Doo costume.

My composure only lasts a moment before I’m howling with laughter.

“Give me that,” Spencer growls, snatching the phone away from me. “It’s not fair: I should’ve been Daphne.”

“You can’t walk in heels for shit,” Ranger snarls, scowling and looking my costume over with a raised brow. “Still think you should’ve gone as Scrappy.” I stick my tongue out at him because, come on, nobody likes Scrappy-Doo anyway.

“We miss you, bro,” Spencer says as the twins crowd up behind him, waving enthusiastically.

“How’s that online stalker internet dick?” they ask, and this time, it’s Ross’ turn to roll his eyes. We were all fairly certain he was going to get murdered and turned into a lampshade by his online crush, but thankfully, it looks like they’ve actually got a strong romance going on over there.

I watch Ross’ face to see if he has any reaction to seeing Spencer Hargrove, his former crush, on the screen, but instead, his new boyfriend Andrew steps up behind him. As soon as Andrew enters the picture, the rest of us might as well be invisible.

“It’s fantastic,” he says, looking back at us briefly as his boyfriend sheepishly waves back at the twins. “So fantastic, in fact, that I’m going to go and do a little pre-party partying. You guys have fun and be safe out there while you’re sleuthing. If any one of you dies—even the ugly little mop-headed one”—he points distinctly in my direction—“it’ll totally ruin my winter travel plans. Snow in Connecticut is only fun when it’s blood free. Byyyeeeee.”

“Byyyeeeee,” we all call back, waving as the video chat cuts off and Spencer hands my phone back to me. I can’t help it—I reach over and cup his ass under that short skirt.

“Damn,” I murmur, and he flashes a grin, reaching up to tug at a strand of my long, gray wig hair.

“Still think I would’ve made a hotter Daphne,” he says, rolling his eyes and then snapping his fingers. “Oh! Before I forget, Jack texted and said he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“Excellent,” Church says, standing up and sliding his palms down his white shirt. “Perhaps he can give us some extra insight into Jenica’s notes.”

“Or explain why he wasn’t there to pick up my sister like he said he would,” Ranger snaps, and Spencer bristles. The twins exchange a look, like they’re afraid Spencer’s loyalty to his brother and Ranger’s loyalty to his sister might cause the two to clash. For whatever reason, I have a little more faith in the boys than that.

“Maybe he can tell us who, exactly, is after Charlotte?” Tobias muses, scratching at his glued-on goatee. “Because as soon as we know, it’s no-holds barred. I will kick the shit out of some cultists.”

“That’s a good question,” Spencer says, frowning hard, the expression almost comical with the big black-framed glasses sliding down his nose. “What happens when we do find out who these creeps are? Do we fight them? Turn them into the FBI? Kill them?”

“Kill them?!” I choke, making a face very similar to the one on my emoji umbrella. “We’re not killing anybody.”

“If we have to kill to keep you safe …” Spencer starts, shrugging one shoulder. But there’s a look in his turquoise eyes that says he’s not fully comfortable with the idea. Church, on the other hand, doesn’t look like he has any reservations at all.

I almost believe he would kill to keep me safe.

“Let’s hit this party,” Micah says, breaking the tension by flipping the head up on his Scooby-Doo costume. “After all, Charlotte hasn’t seen the church before.”

The church, apparently, is an old relic that used to be connected to the school via those crazy underground tunnels. It’s much smaller than the church that used to be housed in the Adamson Academy main building, but still impressive. Or, I feel like it might’ve been if it was anything more than a pile of rubble.

There aren’t any full walls standing, just these piles of old stone covered in teenagers wearing costumes. A DJ blasts music from a stage nearby, and the alcohol is flowing like water.

“If this party wasn't so amazing, we'd go to New York instead,” Micah says, pausing on the edge of the clearing, just under the canopy of trees. The limo took us to the southernmost part of Nutmeg and dropped us off at a busy trail, already covered in partygoers wearing Halloween costumes. Apparently, this old church isn’t much of a secret to the locals.

“This is where you all were last year?” I ask, and he nods, grabbing my hand in one of his furry paws and dragging me into the fray. I’m nervous—I won’t lie about that—but I keep telling myself it’s impossible for these Fellowship freaks to get me in such a big crowd.

Although … that doesn’t mean they’re not watching.

The first thing I notice is that Mark is here with Selena, chugging beer from a keg as she cheers him on. I’m not exactly sure who they’re supposed to be. I think Mark is meant to be some famous rapper while Selena’s a popstar of some kind.

The music is made up of modern hits, the same sort of stuff I’d be listening to if I were partying at Monica’s house with all our old friends. But there’s definitely an edge of money and privilege here that I recognize from that party in the New York penthouse that the boys took me to. As much as I like my new life with the guys in Connecticut, this is one thing that I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to.

There’s food—obviously catered—plenty of drinks, drugs, and a sound system worth more than my dad’s car. As soon as the crowd recognizes that it’s Spencer in the wig and glasses, they cheer, and he grins, unloading the bag he brought with him onto one of the tables. There’s enough weed there to get him thrown in federal prison.