“Ethan Slade,” he said, though she recalled his name from the embarrassing introduction ceremony that had happened earlier this morning. She remembered Ethan Slade because he was just so damned hot. With near-black hair and a quick grin, he was friendly enough, though he probably wouldn’t give up many secrets about the place. His skin appeared permanently bronzed, as if he had some Hispanic blood in him, and Shay was drawn to the whole dark-side vibe to the guy. Add to that the interlocking tattoos on his left arm. Very cool.
A few of the students turned to look at her. Most seemed curious, but two of the girls pissed her off. Tiny Maeve with her perpetual pout, and her BFF Nell, the athletic one. Those two threw her glares that could cut through steel, as if she’d dissed them.
Get a life,
she thought before turning away from their harsh gazes and completely ignoring them.
Which was likely to piss them off even more.
Exactly the point.
Shay wasn’t looking for a new set of friends anyway. If these girls in her pod didn’t like her, fine. They’d made that perfectly clear the moment Reverend Lynch had introduced Shay to the campus.
Directly after the first prayer in the predawn hours at the chapel, Lynch had announced, “Everyone, we have a new student with us. Shaylee, come on up here.” To her utter mortification, she’d been escorted by Dr. Williams to a spot in front of the podium, where she’d faced the congregation of staff members and students. “This is Shaylee Stillman, from Seattle. I expect you all to introduce yourselves at breakfast and do everything you can to make her feel at home.” Reverend Lynch had placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder, then led them in a final prayer that included thanking God for sending Shaylee to Blue Rock Academy. As the group had whispered “Amen” in unison, Reverend Lynch had squeezed her shoulder a bit, and she’d looked at him sharply, only to see him smile benevolently at her.
Now, though, it was Ethan who had his hand on her shoulder. A nice feeling.
“I’m Shaylee,” she said to Ethan, and was a little mesmerized by the gleam of his white teeth.
He was muscular and compact, like a wrestler. “I guess I should say ‘welcome.’”
“Don’t. I’ve heard it enough.”
“I bet.” He stifled a grin, and his dark gaze glinted, as if he understood. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad around here after all.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Maeve, Nell, and Nona whispering and sending her dark looks.
Shay was used to it.
She’d been the “new girl” before. She knew the drill. They’d eventually warm up, or not. But if she was buddied up with Ethan, she’d become public enemy number one, the new bitch in town. That might not be so smart.
“Okay, grab your equipment inside the door, and let’s make this stable shine,” Mr. Trent said. “Last week, Dr. Burdette’s team got special mention for how clean it was after her team cleaned it. I think we should show them up.”
Shay stepped closer to Ethan, murmuring, “Oh, don’t tell me they give out gold stars for shoveling horse poop.”
Ethan didn’t bother hiding his smile, that heart-stopping flash of white against his dark skin. “Better than that. Credits. Toward using the Internet or phones.”
“They allow you to communicate with the outside world? Wow.” She widened her eyes as if awestruck. “Finally. A reason to live.”
Is that how Nona had her cell phone? If so, then why was she hiding it?
“Sure,” he said as they walked inside the building that smelled of horses, dung, and oiled leather. He grabbed a pitchfork from the wall and tossed it to her, tines pointed upward. She caught the fork on the fly.
He added, “You just have to play by the rules.”
“I have a little trouble with that.”
“You won’t,” he predicted, and there was an edge to his voice that she hadn’t noticed before. And the glint in his eyes hardened a bit.
Yeah, sure. The guy talks nice for a second and you think he’s into you?
Stabbing the pitchfork into a clump of hay, Shay wondered if there was a reason their team leader had picked Ethan to show her around. Maybe it was Ethan’s job to watch her a little more closely. He would probably report back to the pod leader or maybe Reverend Lynch.
He was probably a spy, faking that he liked her.
Shaylee shivered inside and didn’t let it show. But she suddenly felt more alone than she ever had in her life.
From the reading loft in the education hall, the Leader watched Trent’s group head to the stables.
Shaylee Stillman brought up the rear, and he couldn’t help but notice how she walked, the way her hips moved slightly. Her forced bravado—but he believed that her mask was slipping. All that sassy, dark attitude would give way.
It always did.
Except for Lauren, right? She’d managed to keep her sarcastic tongue and glint of daring in her eyes, no matter how she was put to the test.
A classic mistake.
And stupid.
A student of history, he’d known better than to trust any female completely. Cleopatra, Mata Hari, Wallis Simpson. Prime examples of seductresses who changed the course of the world. And yet, he had let down his guard.
Not that she’d been any woman, Lauren Conway. Oh, no.
And he’d fallen for her allure.
Completely.
Madly.
Stupidly.
He’d allowed her into his inner circle.
For all the wrong reasons.
Mainly because of his ego.
And his dick. His damned dick.
Just like all those screw-ups in history who’d lost wars, given up thrones, changed the course of civilization: all for a woman.
She was Eve with the apple.
Delilah with her shears.
Jezebel with her idolatry and witchcraft!
He’d been forced to deal with her, and it had been painful, a reminder from God that despite his intelligence and his honed body, he was, in fact, only human.
And he couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Not with Shaylee Stillman.
Not with any woman.
CHAPTER 8
Everything was distorted.
Colors off. Light shifting. A headache thundering behind her eyes.
Jules blinked. She was home … right?
In the house she shared with her parents and sister?
Or was she?
Things were a little off, the rooms so dark.
In the den, the French doors were ajar. Wind whispered through the crack, causing the gauzy curtain to flutter. It moved like a dancer, gracefully gliding over the wood floor, its hem stained a vibrant ragged scarlet as the sheer fabric swept over a dark, congealing pool of blood.
Jules’s heart pounded in fear.
She felt the knife in her hand, saw drops of blood sliding down the blade to fall and splatter around his body….
Brrriiinggg!
Jules awoke with a start. Her cell phone was jangling, her computer screen dark, as it had gone into hibernation mode. She must’ve dozed off searching for hits on the academy, Lauren Conway, and Maris Howell. Snagging the
phone before it rang again, she said, “Hello?” and tried not to sound too groggy.
“Hey, it’s me.” Erin Crosby had been Jules’s friend since college. Although they had been education majors together, Erin had found that being a teacher wasn’t her thing. These days, she sold cell phones and service plans. Erin had also made the fateful mistake of introducing Jules to Cooper Trent. Somehow Jules had forgiven her for that one.
“Thought you might want to go out for drinks tonight. Or sushi,” Erin suggested. “You’re not working, are you?”
“Got the night off, so just let me check my social calendar,” Jules said dryly. Her lack of social life since her divorce was well known, and Erin had been privy to the entire Peri/Sebastian debacle. Once upon a time, they’d all been friends.
“How about six-thirty at Oki’s?”
Jules glanced at the digital clock on the monitor of her computer. Four twenty-seven. Just enough time for a run, a shower, and, if the gods of Seattle traffic were on her side, the trip into downtown during rush hour. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. Gerri’s already on board. Gotta run. I’m getting the evil eye from my manager.” She hung up.
Jules wasted no time. She stripped off her jeans and sweatshirt, threw on her running gear, and was on the jogging path just as the streetlamps began to glow. Dusk came early this time of year, and with the oppressive cloud cover, gloom had settled deep into the city. A heavy mist seeped through her clothes. Though the temperature was somewhere near fifty degrees, Jules broke a sweat within five minutes. Cars and trucks sped past, tires humming through puddles, engines rumbling, windows fogging. Jules slogged through the puddles and around pedestrians and dogs, tackling the hill that marked the midpoint of her circuit. She was breathing hard, and her waterproof running shoes were
leaking.
Just another couple of miles,
she told herself as she angled toward the university, through the skeletal trees shivering as the rain thickened.
She thought of her father and the night he died, how she’d found him in the den, the weapon that had taken his life lying in a thick red puddle beside him. Or had it been still in his body? Her dreams were confusing and sometimes her memory jumbled. Some people had speculated that Edie had killed him, the man she’d married twice. Others suspected that nineteen-year-old Jules, who had picked up the knife when she found him, had used it to stab him viciously. Even Shay had been a suspect, but the footprints outside the house and the open door that appeared forced had convinced the police that the intruder who had stolen Rip Delaney’s wallet had also taken his life.
The intruder had never been found, and though the cloud of suspicion over the family had slowly lifted, life had never been the same.
No amount of counseling sessions or antianxiety pills had stopped the horror of the recurring dream that robbed Jules of sleep, creating debilitating migraines that had often forced her to spend days in bed.
Even after five damned years.
So she ran.
Every day.
Rain or shine.
Taking a respite only if the snow was ankle-deep or the sleet so severe that ice froze solid on the streets.
It kept the demons at bay and helped with her sleep.
She rounded a final corner and sprinted downhill. From this vantage point, she usually caught glimpses of the lake, but not today. It was too foggy, too dark.
By the time she reached her doorstep, she was breathing hard and covered in sweat. She leaned down to stroke Diablo,
then flew through the shower, washed her hair, and twisted it into a topknot. Slapping on some lipstick, she called it good.
On her way out the door, she grabbed her cell phone and tucked it into her pocket. Through some searching on the Internet, she’d found Lauren Conway’s parents’ number in Phoenix. She’d phoned twice, left a short message each time, but so far her calls hadn’t been returned. She figured if anyone had the dirt on Blue Rock, it would be the Conways. Either they’d want to discuss their missing daughter, or they’d shut Jules down, but she had to give it a try. She hadn’t been so lucky at tracking down Maris Howell.
Yet.
She locked the door behind her, then headed for the Volvo. The car’s windows began to fog as she wended her way toward the restaurant near Pike Place Market. When she turned onto Pine Street, she lucked out and spotted an older Cadillac vacating a spot. She nosed into a parking space, glad that she’d have to pay for just a few hours’ street parking. That would save her some money. Flipping up the hood of her jacket, she jogged the four blocks to the restaurant.
The sushi bar was all metal and glass, dim lights, and aquariums filled with strange-looking fish that Jules hoped weren’t on the menu. Most of the small tables were occupied, and muted conversation hummed. Erin was waiting, waving frantically from a booth in the back. Gerri sat across from her.
“We’ve already ordered,” Erin announced as Jules slid into the booth beside her. “Edamame appetizer, California rolls, shrimp tempura.”
“And dragon rolls,” Gerri added.
“Sounds good.”
“We just didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”
“With this?” she asked. “Saki. No question.” She scoffed
at Erin’s glass of white wine and Gerri’s martini. They’d known each other since their freshman year in college, all ending up in the same dorm, none pledging a sorority, all education majors. Gerri was from Washington, D.C., while Erin had grown up around Spokane. It was Erin who had first met Cooper Trent through her older brother, who trained horses.
They drank, ate, and laughed. Erin’s sarcastic sense of humor helped chase away the sense of foreboding that had been with Jules ever since she’d first found out that Edie and a judge were sending Shay to Blue Rock. Eventually the conversation wound its way to the academy.
“What’s going on with you? You look depressed,” Erin said, dipping a slice of rainbow roll into mustard sauce. “Don’t tell me it’s Sebastian.”
Jules frowned at the mention of her ex. “No.”
“Of course not,” Gerri said skeptically.
“I believe you.” Erin eyed her friend as she bit into the slices of tuna and salmon. To Gerri she added, “You know Sebastian was just a rebound thing.”
Gerri lifted a shoulder. “Rebound thing that turned into marriage.”
Jules saw no reason to hide what was going on with her family, and she had drunk just enough saki to let down her defenses. “It’s my sister,” she said with a sigh. Then, while finishing the remainder of her meal, she launched into the story.
Gerri and Erin only broke in to ask a question or two, but for the most part, they were rapt, spellbound by Shay’s problems, not particularly sure Jules was looking at the situation the way she should.
“So … I can’t shake this really bad feeling about the whole thing. I think it’s a big mistake,” Jules admitted. “I hate the fact that there’s no communication between the students and their families.”
“All those rehab places are like that,” Erin offered. “They have to cut off negative influences.”
“But that’s not me,” Jules defended. “I support my sister.”