CHAPTER 47

JARETT'S POV

The text was gone, deleted like if I made it disappear, the midnight deadline would too but It didn’t.

My phone felt heavier in my bag and it felt like I was counting down.

"I need you to come at midnight to the old bridge. Come alone, your debt is due from Maren."

I looked up and Helena was still laughing with Dell. Her hair was damp from the celebration spray. The bruise was gone. The cut was gone. She looked like herself. Because of me. Because of what I owed now.

“Jarett?”

The coach threw a Gatorade bottle at me. I caught it on instinct.

“Stop lurking and celebrate, kid. We just beat the number 2 team in the conference.”

“Yeah,” I said. My voice sounded normal. “Yeah, we did.”

The locker room smelled like sweat and victory and cheap champagne someone snuck in. Guys were yelling, music was too loud, Mason was trying to put Helena on his shoulders. She swatted him down, but she was smiling. Really smiling.

The kind of smile I hadn’t seen in four days. This was why I did it.

The black veins under my sleeve itched. I scratched once and Helena’s eyes flicked to my wrist.

“You okay?” she mouthed over the noise.

I nodded and gave her a thumbs up. Liar.

It was already 4:45 PM.

We did interviews. Helena handled most of them. “Team effort. We adjusted in the second.” She never mentioned the hospital. Never mentioned the potion.

I stood behind the cameras. Every time my phone buzzed in my bag my stomach dropped. Nothing. Just group chat spam.

But midnight was still coming.

Now it was 6:30 PM.

Team dinner at Rico’s. Helena sat at the head of the table like she always did. She cut Mason’s steak for him because “you’ll choke if I don’t.” She made Dell drink water between sodas.

She reached across the table at one point and squeezed my knee under the table.

“Proud of you,” she whispered. “You played hurt.”

I wasn’t hurt. I was cursed.

I nodded and shoved pasta in my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer.

The black lines had crept up past my elbow now. I could feel them when I moved. Like something cold was swimming under my skin.

Back at the apartments. I told Helena I was beat and needed sleep.

“You sure?” She was standing in my doorway in sweats and a team hoodie. No makeup. Still the most awake person in the room. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“Just tired,” I said. “Big win.”

She studied me. Her eyes went to my sleeve, then back to my face.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Text me if you need anything.”

She left. I closed the door and slid down it.

Six hours was now left with three hours.

I pulled up my sleeve. The veins were black and branching now, like a tree under my skin. They pulsed once when I thought about the bridge.

She could feel me thinking about her.

That was the rule of a blood oath. You don’t get to forget.

I couldn’t sit still anymore.

I grabbed my keys, my wallet, nothing else. No phone. I left it on the counter face down. If Helena called, I didn’t want to see it.

The old bridge was 20 minutes out of town. Over the river with no lights. Cops never went there because the railing was half gone.

It was the perfect place for a witch to collect.

The drive was quiet, I wasn't playing music, it was just my breathing and the itch in my arm.

When I pulled up, she was already there.

She was leaning against the broken railing like she’d been waiting all day, she was wearing a long black coat with no umbrella even though it was starting to mist. Her hair was down and her eyes were gold in the dark.

“You came,” she said. Like she was surprised.

“You gave me six hours notice,” I said. “What did you expect?”

She smiled. “I expected you to run.”

I stopped three feet from her, close enough to talk. Far enough that I could run if I had to.

“What do you need,” I said. No greeting.

Maren tilted her head. “So businesslike. After you drank my shield potion. After you traded a year for your little coach.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Helena,” Maren said, tasting the name. “She looks better. Thanks to you.”

My jaw hurt from clenching it. “What’s the job.”

“Job,” she laughed. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

She pushed off the railing and walked a slow circle around me. I didn’t move.

“I need you to get something for me,” she said finally. “From the arena. Tonight.”

“The arena is locked.”

“It won’t be. Not for you.” She stopped in front of me. Held out her hand. An old iron key appeared in it. “In locker 17. There’s a box. Bring it to me.”

“What’s in it?”

“That’s not part of the deal, Jarett.” Her voice went cold. “The deal is: I call, you go. You don't ask questions, you just do it.”

The veins in my arm flared hot. I hissed and grabbed my wrist.

Maren’s eyes dropped to it. “That’s new. The oath is settling in.”

“Is this going to kill me?”

“Probably not.” She shrugged. “Probably.”

I looked past her. The river below was black and fast. If I jumped, would the oath follow me?

Probably.

“Midnight,” she said. “I want the box by 12:30. Bring it here.”

“And then what? I'm going home?”

“Then you go home,” she said. “Until I call again.”

I took the key. It was freezing.

“One more thing,” Maren said as I turned to leave.

I stopped.

“If you tell Helena, the veins go to your heart. If you don’t bring me the box, the veins go to your heart. If you run, the veins go to your heart.”

She smiled. “So don’t.”

I didn’t answer. I just walked back to my car, started the car and started driving back to the arena.

The key in my pocket felt like it weighed 50 pounds.

I could call Helena. I could tell her everything and let the veins take me.

Or I could go get the box, lie and come back to pretend for a year.

It was two minutes left until midnight.