The Girl and The Raven (19 page)

“No,” he mumbles, looking away. “There’s another one. The two of them keep repeating. I hate going to sleep.”

“What’s the other one about?” I grab his hand. “Is it worse than the last one?”

“Promise not to hate me, Lucy. Please.”

I gulp. “Did you try to kill me, too?”

“No, it was a sex dream…and it was bad. There were three of us…you, me and Rachel, this girl I’m seeing.” He looks away from me. Blackness spreads through my insides like smoke, churning. “It was weird. It started out as a crazy dare and then we decided to follow through with it. What started out as fun…”

“Turned evil. We killed her.” The bitter taste of bile rises up my throat. “You and I killed Rachel.”

“Jesus Lucy…how did—?”

We stare at each other, the parking garage lights casting eerie shadows. I shudder, suddenly afraid. “We had the same dream,” I whisper.

“How is that possible?”

It’s too cold all of a sudden. I rub my hands along my arms, trying to warm them. Fragments of the dream flash through my mind.

“Lucy.” Dylan reaches for me. I shrink back to my corner of the car. He sighs, balling his fists in his lap. “I’m sorry for laying all this on you, but… I’m pretty sure I’m being followed.”

“What?” My voice sounds hollow to my own ears. I immediately think of the gray-haired demon. Seamus McAllister.

“Several times over the past few weeks, I could swear someone was watching me.” His eyes dart to the front seat of the car, to me, and then out the side window. I’m guessing Arnold is due back any minute. “At first, I thought it was just paranoia, but then I’ve actually seen a guy—the same guy—watching me. Twice.”

“What did he look like?” A chill crawls across my skin. I try to remain calm, waiting for him to mention the shoulder-length gray hair. The red mark on Seamus’ arm.

“Black hair, dark eyes, and absolutely no expression whatsoever. I can’t explain it, but he’s so freaking creepy.”

“What?” I gasp.

“Every time I see him, he’s staring right at me,” Dylan continues. “He doesn’t look away or try to hide the fact that he’s watching me.”

My mouth goes dry and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

“How tall is he?” I choke, already knowing the answer.

“Under six feet, maybe five-ten.” Dylan frowns, concentrating. “And his hair…it’s slicked back. Why?”

I struggle to keep my voice steady. “I know him.”

“What?” It’s Dylan turn to look confused. “Who the hell is he?”

“You…you’re not going to like this…” I stammer.

He drives his fists into the seat. “I don’t know what to do. I told my dad about him and suggested we call the police, but he said no. I thought he was going to rip my head off.”

That doesn’t make sense. I remember the fear in Mr. Douglas’ voice when he spoke to the doctor about Dylan. “But…why?”

“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat appear on his lip and forehead. “Lucy, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him scared. And you know what? I’m scared too.”

I clutch my stomach as the most awful feeling spreads through me.

“Tell me!” His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Who is this guy, Lucy?”

I can’t look at him. I just can’t. “His name is Jude Morgan and he…he’s my father.”

Suddenly a vision comes to me. Dylan is lying in a hospital bed with tubes running from his arms. Machines beeping.

And I know right then Dylan is going to die.

Monday morning is wickedly painful. Instead of sleeping, I spent another night haunted by the vision of Dylan in a hospital bed. Maybe it
is
my fault that Jude is doing this to him. But that doesn’t make sense—why would Jude care that I had ice cream with Dylan? And why would Mr. Douglas blow up at Dylan and refuse to call the police? If someone was following me, my uncles would get the cops involved immediately.

Jude has no reason to kill Dylan, I tell myself. Persephone doesn’t believe he killed Gram. Maybe he’s not a murderer at all.
Lola.
But he could be, if I don’t find a way to rescue her.

My thoughts return to Dylan. He came to see Ethan and Brandi twice last week. He looked tired during his first visit. By Friday, his cheeks were sunken and his hair was unstyled and messy. The kids begged him to play and when he couldn’t, they caught on that something was wrong. He didn’t stay long, but pulled me aside before leaving, assuring me that everything would be fine.

“The neurologist is going to run more tests. He’ll figure out what’s wrong with me. I’ll be fixed in no time.”

I try to cling to Dylan’s optimism.

* * * *

Katie and I arrive at school after taking the train and a bus. I really need to get a car soon.

“You’re so lucky you made it into driver’s ed.” Katie pouts. “Why didn’t I?”

“You’ll be riding with me when I get a car, so stop stressing about it.”

I knew from the pictures on the website that St. Aquinas Academy is huge and really old. But the two-inch pictures didn’t give me a true feel for the three massive interconnected brick buildings. It screams rich. Exclusive. I check out the throngs of students and wonder if my jeans and navy top measure up. Will my classmates make fun of my accent? Will they mock me, treat me like I’m inferior? I see future frat boys lounging on the manicured lawn under the shade of perfectly shaped trees. It looks like a Ralph Lauren advertisement come to life. My chest swells with panic. I wonder how Sheldon and Bernard would feel if I ask to transfer to another school ASAP.

Katie misinterprets the look on my face for excitement instead of horror. “If you think this is cool, wait until you see the inside.”

Our lockers are across the hall from each other. Mine is decorated with crepe paper and a sign that says,
Welcome to St. Aquinas Academy!
A tradition, apparently, for all freshmen and transfer students. Katie and I get our combinations to work and I put up a locker mirror and a few photos to make mine look less depressing.

Katie gives me the grand tour pointing out all my classes. The school is like a maze. There’s no way I’ll remember my way around this place. I swallow my panic and try to look like this isn’t anything new to me.

“You’re gonna love this,” Katie says, as we enter what looks like a sitting room taken from an English castle and dropped into the school. The President’s office is off to the left, along with some other administrator’s. Tall walls are loaded with framed art of various sizes. The lighting is cast from lamps, warm and dim. There are old-fashioned chairs covered with faded tapestries set around low tables. All very posh. I imagine Dylan’s grandparent’s—if they’re still alive—probably have a living room just like it.

“I don’t know the formal name, but we all call this the parlor.” It comes out sounding like
pahlah
.

I follow Katie into the next room.

“This is the old library. I’ll show you the new one, too, which is where you’ll wind up spending a lot of your time. This is where you have to come tomorrow for your school photo.”

There are curved staircases to my left and right, which lead upstairs. It’s not a second floor, exactly, but a slim catwalk that runs the length of all four walls. I crane my neck to take in all the bookshelves. The first floor also has loaded bookcases pressed against the walls. To the left is an area set-up with commercial lights and a chair.

Katie glances at her watch and gasps. “We have to go, like, now!”

I pull my phone from my pocket. It’s ten minutes before first period starts. Butterflies fill my stomach and Sheldon’s famous pancakes threaten to make a return appearance.

I barely make it to English when the bell rings. My heart sinks when I see Ella. She waves me over, a big smile on her face. I stifle a groan. Happy-Ella is almost as threatening as angry-Ella. She wastes no time in grilling me about Marcus.

“So you and Marcus. Impressive, Lucy. You two are officially dating, right?” she announces. I grimace and look around to see if anyone heard her. Nobody seems to be paying attention, but I catch a couple of girls looking away.

“Not really.” What does official mean anyway? We went on one date. We get together and hang out on the roof. It’s not like he’s asked me to be his girlfriend.

“You’re so lucky. He’s hot. Not many guys are that steamy…well, except for Caroline’s brother. And Dylan.” She draws out his name as her eyes narrow. My stomach immediately tenses. I knew this was coming. “Speaking of Dylan, I heard you worked for his dad all summer, watching his brother and sister. I can’t believe you never told us. Why the secrecy?”

“The thing is…” I recognize the glint in her eye. Momma had that look once right before she got crazy mad and pitched a beer at my head. “Dylan and I don’t get along all that well.”

Ella looks elated at this news and I’m sure she’s considering who to blab to first. I lean back in my seat and glance around the room. I recognize a couple of students I passed in the halls. Other than that, everyone is a stranger. According to its website, St. Aquinas Academy has a student body of thirteen hundred, four times the size of Lexington High where everybody knew everything. Hopefully this school is so big, I can get lost. Be anonymous.

Ella leans closer. “Has he asked about me? Dylan, I mean.” Of course, when we’re talking about her love life she whispers.

Her expression is so hopeful, I’m not sure I have the heart to be honest. Yet, there’s a part of me that would love to crush her. But another part of me knows what it’s like to have your hopes crushed. The bells rings and the teacher strides in effectively saving me from having to answer.

By the time I meet up with Katie in the cafeteria for lunch, no one’s made fun of me for being the new kid or whispered about me behind my back. So far, so good. I can’t wait to report back to Marcus that he’s wrong about St. Aquinas.

“Ella’s in my first period English class,” I tell Katie as we move through the lunch line. I’m relieved to see a salad bar. If today’s menu is any indication, hot lunch entrees rarely include a vegetarian option.

“Yeah, she texted me.” She orders a burger and fries. “Hey, I passed Dylan in the hall earlier. He looks terrible. He said he’s been having some pretty bad headaches and he’s going to see a doctor tomorrow.”

“He told me the same thing,” I say casually and snag a bottle of water and a chocolate chip cookie to add to the salad on my tray.

I pay the cashier hoping it doesn’t look like I’ve never done this before, which I haven’t.

“Whatever you do, never sit at those tables,” Katie says, nodding toward the back of the cafeteria. “The seniors have dibs on them.”

I nod and follow Katie to our table. The other girls are already there. We all match in our black pants and white tops. When I went shopping over the summer, I didn’t anticipate I’d never be able to wear my new clothes to school. On the bright side, it’s hard to feel out of place or inferior when we all look similar.

Suzy grins and waves. “How’s your first day?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I hope I didn’t just jinx myself. “I only got lost three times.”

“Lucy says she and Marcus aren’t really an item,” Ella announces to no one in particular.

“Leave her alone.” Cloe frowns at Ella.

“We thought things were all hot and heavy with you two,” Caroline says with a mischievous grin. “Is there another guy who’s taken his place?”

Ella answers for me, adding an eye roll for effect. “As we left English this morning, Lucy dropped her books and Shawn Watkins made this big show of picking them up, dusting them off and gallantly handing them back to her.”

“Shawn’s a good guy,” Suzy protests. “You’re just mad he’s one of the few guys who won’t give
you
the time of day.”

“Shawn’s a total geek.” Ella shoots Suzy a nasty look, then sends another one my way. “I think Lucy’s lying. She just doesn’t want to tell us anything.”

“Whatever’s going on, she’s gotten closer to Marcus than any other girl we know.” Cloe grins.

Ella purses her lips while Cloe winks at me. I’m grateful she got Ella to shut up. If it weren’t for Ella and Caroline, I’d probably tell the girls all about Marcus. 

“Hold the phone, everyone,” Caroline whispers. “Who—or what—are
they
?”

We follow her gaze to the door and see three guys standing just inside the cafeteria doors, scanning the crowd. They’re dressed in black t-shirts, black jeans and heavy boots. They’re twice the size of anyone else here and they scream trouble.

“They were terrorizing Mark Newbury earlier today, right after second period,” Katie says sourly.

“They’ve gotta be seniors, right? Why don’t I remember them from last year?” Caroline’s eyes grow wide. “Holy crap! They’re headed this way.”

A moment later they’re standing at our table, menacing smiles on their faces. The one with short-cropped brown hair steps forward. A sneer creeps across his face.

“Hi girls.” His two friends stand behind him as he nods in my direction. “Who’s your friend?”