“You want to dance?” Micah asks, giving me this lascivious look from under the hood of his costume that makes me grin.

“With a furry?” I retort, looking him up and down. “I don’t know, man. You’re pressing your luck.”

“How about I promise not to proposition you for sex while I’m wearing this thing, and we’ll settle on some grinding instead?”

“Deal.” I take Micah’s hand and let him pull me into the sweaty, gyrating group of dancers on the old, bowed, and grayed wood floors of the church. There are a few pews, pushed to either side of the space and filled with people talking, laughing, and snapping selfies. The majority of the rubble—including a broken stained-glass window—is gathered in the corners of the crumbling structure.

After a few songs, Tobias cuts in and takes Micah’s place, smiling at me from above that scraggly goatee. I give it a little tug, laughing as he spins me around, our only source of light the full moon above the trees, and the colored spotlights sweeping across the crowd. It’s interesting, to look up into eyes that are the same shape and color as Micah’s, but at the same time, so different. The thought makes me smile, knowing that there’s so much more to a person than what you see on the outside.

“College applications are due in November,” Tobias whispers, leaning in close so that his mouth is near enough to my ear that I can hear him over the music. “I filled mine out for Bornstead U, and guess what?”

“What?” I whisper back, shivering as he nibbles my earlobe playfully.

“Spencer filled his out, too. Even though he said he wasn’t interested in college. I think you’re having a positive influence on us, Chuck.” I smile, curving my arms around his neck as the music shifts into a slower, softer song. Half the crowd groans, sweating and booing, while the rest of us relax into the melody, swaying together. “We should hear back in December. Then we can decide.”

“Decide what?” I ask, looking up, my heart pounding like crazy. College seems so far away, but in reality, I’ll know whether I was accepted within a month, I’ll be turning eighteen around the same time. And we’re already almost two months into the schoolyear. It’s a little scary, thinking about the future and all of its unknowns.

“If we’re all going. You know we’ve always sort of planned to stick together, right?”

“I didn’t, actually,” I say, looking up into Tobias’ eyes. There’s a calmness there in his gaze that I grab hold of and cling to. I like the way he looks down at me, like he’s more than happy to take care of me and Micah both. He’s got a giving sort of heart.

“We never really decided if we wanted to travel or go to school first, but I like the idea of us all going to Colorado together, don’t you?”

“I’m pretty sure that’d be a dream come true.” I wrinkle my brows and then move my left hand between us, so I can stare at the pink Asscher cut diamond that Church gave me. “But how would it all work? I’m … just assuming that at some point, you’re going to want me to choose?”

“Choose, what?” Tobias asks, but before I get the chance to answer, I see Spencer waving us over. Tobias and I exchange a look and then weave our way off the dance floor, over to where Spencer’s frilly little red miniskirt is swishing away through the trees.

We follow him to a small clearing, occupied by a few hot and heavy couples that make my cheeks flush if I look at them too closely. Okay. Yep. Not my business. I refocus my attention on the brown-haired boy leaning against a tree, dressed similarly to how he was the last time we saw him: baggy t-shirt, loose fitting jeans, sneakers.

“Hey, Jack,” Spencer says, slapping palms with his brother. “You didn’t dress up?”

“Nah, I’m not staying,” Jack says, looking past Spencer and over at the rest of us. Me, in particular. He flicks his blue eyes back to Spence’s. “I was sort of hoping we might be able to talk in private?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Ranger says, just as intimidating as always, even in a wig and lavender heels. He crosses muscular arms over his chest and waits, rather impatiently I might add, for Jack to continue. “Well? We know all about the Fellowship of the Divine now, so what can you tell us that we don’t know?”

“Jesus Christ, man, keep your voice down,” Jack hisses, looking around like he expects a monster to leap out at him at any moment. If one did, I mean, we’re appropriately dressed. I’ve got on the Witcher costume, and the boys are prepped to tear off a mask so the villain can shout stuff about meddling kids. “Who told you that shit? And do they, by chance, have a freaking death wish?”

“Lionel Murphy,” Church supplies easily, watching Jack carefully. It’s the little tells, right?

“We saw the missing pages from Jenica’s journal,” Spencer says, and Jack just lifts an eyebrow. I’m guessing he’s never seen or heard about this mysterious journal. “And man, I hate to say it, but it really makes you look guilty.”

“Me?” Jack chokes, looking around again. I don’t see anybody but the happy couples, sexing it up around the clearing. God, teenagers are sort of gross, huh? All hormone-y and shit. Damn, Spencer’s legs look fine in those knee socks. I facepalm but nobody’s paying any attention to me. “Jenica and I were friends.”

“Yeah? So you sell your friends prescription drugs and cocaine, and you don’t give a fuck what it does to their lives?” Ranger asks, stepping forward. Spencer stops him by putting an arm out, and the two exchange a long, studying look before Ranger finally steps back with a growl.

“I didn’t kill her though, if that’s what you’re implying.” Jack looks imploringly at his younger brother. “You know me. I wouldn’t do that; I couldn’t hurt her.”

“Where were you when you were supposed to give her a ride that night, the night she died?” Spencer asks carefully, keeping his gaze trained on his brother’s face. The twins move around our little group in slow circles, pushing away drunken revelers and leaving us with enough space to talk in private.

“When she didn’t show and didn’t answer her phone, I went looking for her,” Jack says, and the way his breath catches, the way sweat beads on his forehead, that tells me right away that I’m not going to like this part of the story. “She was always meeting with Lionel at the clearing with the old angel statues. I went there, and … I saw things I didn’t want to see, okay?”

“Like what?” Spencer asks, voice hardening. He’s pretty intimidating, too, I have to admit—even in his, um, glorious Velma costume. “You can’t possibly look anymore guilty than you do now, so spill it. That’s what you wanted to talk to me about, isn’t it?”

“I came to warn you, you idiot,” Jack says, leaning in toward his brother’s face. “Why the hell do you think I came all the way up here to get you that day? Did you ever wonder who locked you in that cabin and why?”

“The Fellowship,” Church supplies, but Jack ignores him. Spencer’s right: he doesn’t seem like the villainous type, but he’s most definitely selfish and most definitely a coward. The only person Jack cares about is himself, almost the polar opposite of his brother. Spencer was willing to rewrite his whole world view to make sure I fit into it, and Jack wasn’t even willing to rearrange his schedule to meet with Spencer sooner.