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there be a connection between all of this and the fact that Devon had broken whatever spell had kept Crazy Lady imprisoned? Had Devon disturbed some kind of force by doing so?
    The second bell rang. “Look,” Devon said to his friends. “We need an emergency meeting after school. I don’t care what plans you have. We need to meet.”
    “Demons?” Marcus asked.
    “Possibly. Or something.” Devon turned to Natalie. “Tell Cecily and D.J., too. Whatever attitude Cecily is throwing my way will have to be put aside for now. It’s Marcus’s safety we’re talking about.”
    His friend grabbed his shoulder. “Then you saw it again on my face. The pentagram.”
    “Yeah,” Devon told him. “I did.”
    “What pentagram?” Natalie asked. “What are you talking about?”
    “I’ll tell you everything after school. We’ll meet at Gio’s for pizza. Tell D.J. and Cecily, too.”
    They hurried off to their various classes. Devon’s first was geometry—neither his favorite nor his best—and he struggled to pay attention as Mrs. Bouchier droned on about acute versus obtuse angles and intersecting perpendicular lines. Devon prayed she wouldn’t call on him because when he looked up at the chalkboard all he saw was one big floating pentagram—a geometric shape itself, but not one being discussed at the moment. At least not by Mrs. Bouchier.
    What did it mean? For months he’d seen the pentagram occasionally on Marcus’s face. Yet despite his and Rolfe Montaigne’s best efforts, they had discovered nothing about what it meant, or what it might portend. The best they’d learned was that the pentagram was usually seen as a sign of protection, that wearing the pentagram or staying within its boundaries kept one safe from supernatural harm. Maybe Devon needed to find a pentagram for Marcus to wear.
    But what was it that threatened him? Were the dreams Marcus had significant? Why had that ghost appeared to Devon—and who was he? And was there some connection between all of this and the woman who was now running madly between the walls of Ravenscliff?
    He had to talk to Crazy Lady again. He had to ask her about—
    “Mr. March?”
    Devon blinked. The teacher. Damn. She’d called on him.
    “Um, I’m sorry,” he said, “would you repeat the question?”
    Mrs. Bouchier folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve already asked you twice. I think instead you ought to come see me after the last bell.”
    “Oh, but I can’t then. See, I have to—”
    “See me after the last bell, Mr. March,” she insisted, returning to the lesson.
    Great. Just great. Now he was going to have to be late to Gio’s. He had to get a message to his friends. If he wasn’t at D.J.’s car at the end of the day, he could just see Cecily stalking off, still filled with spite. She could be very impulsive like that.
    He knew he couldn’t pull out his phone without Mrs. Bouchier noticing. She detested cell phone usage in her class. But he needed to send a text.
    Well, he thought, a small smile slipping across his face. I don’t need my thumbs for that.
    He visualized his phone in his jacket pocket. He concentrated on Natalie’s name in his contact list. And he texted her with his mind.
    wait for me. i’ve got to deal with bouchier but i’ll be there asap.
    Then he hit send with a simple thought.
    In his mind he could see the text coming through on Natalie’s phone. She was in her English literature class down the hall. He could see her surreptitiously turning over her phone and reading Devon’s text. He smiled to himself. Yes, he was definitely getting better and better at this sorcery stuff.

    After school, he endured a lecture from Bourchier, agreeing to do an extra-credit homework assignment to show he wasn’t entirely clueless about all that geometry stuff. Then he tore out of the room and ran down the hallway toward the parking lot—he couldn’t pull his disappearing-reappearing act in front of so many kids. He skidded the last