As for the club’s evil supernatural roots, for the most part the other girls had managed to convince themselves and everyone around them that the whole thing was just a mild case of mass hysteria. The longer they told themselves that, the more they believed it. And why not? Let’s be realistic—the alternative was crazy.

A few of us didn’t make it out unscathed—me, Zoe, Megan, Lydia. And poor Emily Rosen was being home-schooled and treated for PTSD. But for the lucky ones, that magic too-good-to-be-true popularity pill wasn’t actually too good to be true. It was just…true.

Of course, all that could change. Their perfect lives could end in death and destruction if I didn’t find a way to stop Lydia.

I kicked off my ballet flats and pressed my bare foot against the brake pedal, relishing the feel of its hard rubber ridges beneath my toes.

“Oh, snap. Did I wreck your party?” Lydia materialized in the passenger seat. “Is Alexis scared? Is she running home with her tail between her legs?”

“Shut up,” I said, on edge but relieved that she’d followed me instead of staying inside.

She made a pouty face. “Waaaaah. Lexi wants to be alone. Lexi hates herself. Well, join the club. I hate you, too.”

I turned the key and buckled my seat belt.

Lydia made an irritated noise and faded out of sight.

Until she’d attacked me—and then Kendra—I’d thought she wasn’t a very powerful ghost. But now I had to be constantly on guard. Because apparently it’s not hard for a weak ghost to get strong—

And dangerous.

I DROVE AWAY FROM THE LAIRDS’ upscale neighborhood toward the empty highways that led out of town, stretching the speed limit in my rush to get away from civilization.

On the seat next to me, my phone lit up with a text message. The word mom flashed onscreen. I figured I’d better reply before I ended up grounded, so I pulled onto the shoulder.

K SAID YOU LEFT PARTY ARE YOU COMING HOME?

NOT YET, I texted. GETTING COFFEE.

A second later, her reply came through.

:-/

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asked, fading in. “Tired? Dejected? Suicidal? Don’t let me stop you if you had any, you know, plans.”

I took a deep breath, shut off the engine, and stared out the window. I was surrounded by farmland, no cars or houses in sight.

What Lydia had done to Kendra erased any doubt in my mind that she needed to be eliminated. But even a week after Kendra had been found, something still kept me from going to Lydia’s house and facing her parents. I kept coming up with excuses—places to go, rooms of the house that needed scrubbing, distant school projects that needed urgent attention.

The girls from the Sunshine Club were in danger, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. But the only reason Lydia had any power over me was that I gave it to her. All wrapped up with a pretty bow.

“Lydia.” I steeled myself and tried to sound assertive. “I’m only going to have this conversation with you once. This has to stop.”

“Or what?” she sneered.

“Well, let’s see. I got rid of the hundred-year-old evil ghost that possessed my sister and tried to kill our dad. I got rid of Aralt in a room full of twenty-two people who wanted to kill me. So, no offense—but I think I could take you.”

She tossed her hair. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, leave me—and all the other girls—alone, and I’ll leave your power center alone.”

Her mocking smile disappeared.

To a ghost, a power center isn’t something you joke about. They’re automatically driven to protect it, to prolong their existence—whether they have something worth existing for or not.

Kind of like the rest of us, I guess.

Lydia glared at me, arms crossed. “You wouldn’t dare. Don’t forget, you’re already responsible for my death. That would be like killing me twice.”

Her words sent a spike of dread up my spine, but I was determined not to let her sense it. “Please believe me,” I said, “when I say it would be my absolute pleasure.”

She pouted. “Lighten up! I was just having fun.”

I wondered what part of putting Kendra into a coma or almost steering me into a murky canal seemed fun to her. I reached for my key. “Forget it,” I said. “I’ll just go to your house and do it right now.”

“No!”

“Then leave,” I said. “You have five seconds. Leave all of us alone. Forever.”

She gave me a disgusted look. “You are extremely oversensitive, Alexis.”

“One,” I said. “Two—”

She disappeared.

A magnificent silence filled the car.

I closed my eyes and soaked it in for a minute before I reached down to start the ignition. The engine made a sound like it was going to turn over—but then it whined and died out.

“No,” I said. “Come on. Not tonight.”

I tried again. Nothing.

The first drop of rain thumped like a drumbeat on the roof of the car. Then another, and another. Soon it was pouring.

I couldn’t call my parents. I didn’t have a boyfriend. My best friend seemed reluctant to even acknowledge my existence. I was stranded.

Then I remembered that there was one person who might care—who might come if I called him.

I stood out in the sheeting rain and flagged Jared down—which may not have been necessary, considering the only thing besides me and my car was miles of farmland, furrowed in deep rows, with a low, dense winter carpet of clover. He parked his Jeep nose-to-nose with my car and got out, wearing a yellow poncho. He hurried over and offered me an umbrella.

“What’s the use?” I yelled over the storm. “I’m already soaked!”

We opened our hoods and he hooked up a pair of jumper cables between the cars. When he turned his car on, I tried mine again. This time the engine rumbled and came to life.

Jared disconnected everything, neatly rolling the cables and stowing them in his trunk. Then he came back over and watched me close my hood.

“Thanks a lot,” I yelled. “I didn’t know who else to call. ”

“Anytime,” he yelled back.

There was a pause.

“What are you doing so far out of town, anyway?” he yelled.

I shrugged and yelled, “Nothing, really. So…I’ll call you this week or something?”

He hesitated, then pulled me into a loose, tentative hug and backed away, giving me a little wave as he walked to his car.

I sat in my driver’s seat, soaking my upholstery but absolutely powerless to do anything about it. According to the clock, it was nine fifteen. The cold began to seep through my clothes and chill my skin.

My cell phone rang. Jared. With shivering fingers, I flipped it open.

“Hi,” I said. “Thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said. The rain still roared in the background, but at least we didn’t have to shout to hear each other. “So…I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and have some hot chocolate or something. Dad’s out of town, and I just didn’t feel like going to any parties tonight.”

I knew he didn’t mean Dad’s out of town, wink wink. Mr. Elkins was hardly ever home even when he was in town. That didn’t automatically equal debauchery.

“Well…thanks.” For a moment, I was tempted. I really did like spending time with Jared. But then my loner instincts kicked in, and before I could stop myself, I was saying, “But I think I’ll just go home.”

“All right,” he said. “Make sure you get into some dry clothes.”

I said I would, and we hung up. Then I wrapped my hands around my steering wheel and stared out at the road, determined not to think about the note of hurt I’d heard in his voice.

I tried to cheer myself up by remembering that I didn’t have to go straight home—I could go get coffee, like I’d told Mom.

But the rain came down in torrents, and suddenly I realized that I wasn’t remotely interested in sitting in a coffee shop, having everyone stare at me in my soaking-wet clothes, wondering why I was alone on a major party holiday. Only slightly less awful was the prospect of facing my parents and having to explain why I’d left the party early.