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her throbbing finger wasn’t numb from cold. She had discovered two sets of wounds on it. Odd . Iffie the puppy hadn’t bitten her twice.
    She’d just come from trying to visit the library, where she’d hoped to speak to the librarian about her aunt’s death. But the force field thing had stopped her. It was like hitting a wall. How could it only be her mind, as Christian said?
    “What are you going to do about what?” she asked. The ring of students opened to her, and as she walked up to the prefect, she noticed they stood on the edges of the dark circle set into the marble floor.
    At seventeen years old, William had a few inches on her. She got the feeling he’d have a few more before he finished growing.
    “Miss Strange.” William exuded authority, barely raising an eyebrow while everyone else panicked. A Rudyard Kipling poem ran through her mind. If you can keep your head when all about you/Are losing theirs...You’ll be a Man, my son.
    Fine. She could be a Man, too.
    “What’s the trouble?” Around Sadie and the prefect, a lot of shuffling of feet and looking at the ceiling happened.
    “No trouble,” he said with confidence.
    She would have believed him. Except for the accompanying crash that came from beneath their feet.
    He crossed his arms and set his square jaw.
    She closed her eyes. Focus, girl. Getting mad will make you look hysterical.
    She turned her voice sweet, almost lyrical. “William Springwater, you are supposed to report any trouble to one of the residence advisors. I may be new here, but I am an R.A.”
    William’s jaw flexed. “We’ll wait for Lorde Gray.”
    She clenched her teeth to keep them from grinding. Gray. Gray. Gray. Where could she get away from him? And why did people use his whole name all the time?
    Doubt crept into her mind. Everyone trusted him but her. What if he deserved all this hero worship? What if her attraction to him didn’t mean he was bad?
    Boom ! The noise came from below her feet. A small hand grabbed hers. She looked down at a boy whose hair grew wild over his eyes. He whimpered and shoved his face into her skirt.
    Her heart missed a thump. His fear had to stop. Now . She wasn’t waiting for Gray.
    “Right,” she said. “So if I were a basement door in a private school dormitory, where would I hide?”
    A girl with sun-kissed brown skin and a long braid pointed.
    “Of course,” she said. “Under the stairs. Thank you...”
    “Tituba,” the girl supplied.
    Why did that name seem familiar? As she handed the boy to Tituba, she made a mental note to Google the name later.
    “You shouldn’t go down there,” William advised.
    She squinted into the midnight-black basement beneath the rickety steps and agreed with him completely. For an instant, she was tempted to leave this problem to Gray.
    No, dammit. The safety of these kids was her problem.
    She put a tentative heel on the stairs and tested her weight on it. It held, with only a little creak. Her other foot joined it. Whew, that was over. Now all she had to do was repeat it about a dozen more times. Then find a light switch. Then figure out where the noise came from. Then go deal with it.
    Simple.
    She was down about five more steps when she leaped at the sound of the door slamming behind her. Her foot twisted and she pitched forward. She grabbed the railing and clung to it as her shoe clattered down the dark steps.
    She froze, sucking in breath, giving her eyes time to adjust to the low light. Maybe a minute went by while she clung to the splinter-covered railing, listening to the blood pounding in her ears and breathing in the smell of dust. When the black resolved itself into lighter and darker black, she lowered her bum onto the gritty steps and stared into the shadows.
    This was it, she realized. This was the moment. If she went up those stairs, she wouldn’t stop there. She’d just continue out the front door of Strange Hall, into her car, past the Strange Academy sign, and just keep