The Things We Do (Under Editing)

Puppets Beware your Strings

"I can't believe you actually got a higher score than Jared! The look on his face when he realized was priceless!"

Elliot was lying flat on his back in the middle of my living room laughing harder than I suspected he had in a long time. His usual composure had gone out the window almost as soon as our professor had announced the highest grades on the most recent test. In fact, I was pretty sure I'd heard him fight to hide a snort of laughter immediately after.

"Jared? I thought his name was Jake." I could still barely believe I'd gotten a top score, but I would absolutely be taking this opportunity to celebrate by allowing Kacie to buy me food without feeling bad.

Elliot shifted so he could look at me where I was sprawled across the couch. "Wait, are we sure it's not Jamie?"

I made a very unlady-like snort. "Nah, it's just like Jay or something."

"Nah," he scoffed. "He's not cool enough to have a name like that."

"Oh, yeah, because you know so much about being cool."

I'd never seen Elliot as relaxed as he was then. Whatever had happened to make him stop caring about being stiff and perfect, it suited him. "And you do?" See? He didn't even care that he'd started a sentence with "and".

"Nope."

I hadn't been this relaxed in a long time. Having high grades because I actually understood the subject was a great feeling. Sure, it was exhausting, but so was burning down a city. I preferred this.

Elliot laughed again, sitting up. His notebook sat unopened next to him. He hadn't even touched it since he got here. "Yeah, I think the only even remotely cool person around here is Kacie. Of course, by that I mean she's incredibly cool, otherwise she might hurt me for insulting her coolness."

I threw a pillow, which nailed him in the face and dropped into is lap. He hadn't even dodged. Instead, his smile just got bigger.

"I'm offended by your statement on behalf of Mel."

Raising his hands in surrender, Elliot corrected himself. "You're right. Mel is cool as well. I'll respect the functioning adult that managed to keep you and Kacie alive." He lowered his hands. "Actually, seeing as she hasn't killed either of your herself, someone should probably give her a medal... or a sainthood."

I rolled my eyes. "We're not that bad."

"We're not that bad." Elliot repeated back to me in a poor impression of my voice before picking up his own voice again. "How many times have you almost died this semester alone? How many times have you almost picked a fight with a random stranger?"

"I'm not answering that." Really I didn't know the answer because of my exploits as Phantom Banshee, but I wouldn't be sharing that.

"My point exactly," came the self-satisfied reply.

I threw another pillow at him, which he dodged.

The sound of my phone going off killed my laughter in an instant. Not this. Not again.

I ignored the way Elliot's laugh also faded out when he realized I'd gone pale. He'd probably ask questions if I gave him a chance, and I wouldn't be able to answer.

When I'd gotten a hold of my phone, I didn't have to check who had texted me. When I started working for Wraith, I'd given him a personal text tone so that I always knew when it was him. I'd been lucky enough to not hear it for a few months, but I should have known it wouldn't last.

He'd sent one text, consisting entirely of a link to a news article. Bile rose in my throat as I opened it.

The Hangman Hanged

One of the city's worst criminals,
 Hangman, found dead in her cell...

My blood turned cold.

Prisonguards approached the cell
 of themasked terrorist Andria Cordell,
 a third year graduate student at
Hawthorne University known widely as
"Hangman", earlier this morning only to
find the young adult hanging from the
ceiling by a wire noose. How the murder
was committed is still under investigation,
but it is suspected that the crime lord
"Puppet Master" most likely had a
hand in it.

The article was accompanied by a picture of their cell. The body and noose had been removed before any journalists had been allowed access for obvious reasons, but otherwise it had been left how it had been found. There had been no struggle, but across the wall, in what could only be blood, the culprit had left a message.

""Puppets should take care not to get tangled in their strings."

My phone went off again, as if Wraith could tell that I was staring at the picture. I didn't want to open his message. It was everything I could do to not throw up just thinking about it, and if I failed any worse at showing my reactions, I wouldn't be able to brush off Elliot. He already had concern etched across his face.

However, if my time working for Wraith had taught me anything, it was that ignoring his messages would have a higher cost. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to read his four words.

"Don't think you're free."

I bolted for the bathroom.