Second Thoughts

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by Cara Bertrand




  Graduation is coming…

  Secrets, lies, and looming deaths—all things Lainey Young deals with in a typical day of high school. In her senior year at Northbrook Academy, she has even more to worry about. Things like classes, college, and her boyfriend, Carter Penrose. Oh, and her impending death. Hanging over everything is the brief vision she glimpsed at the end of last year—the one she must find a way to change before it’s too late.

  To her surprise, she finds one worry she can cross off her list—namely Senator Daniel Astor. After a shocking discovery when they finally meet, Lainey realizes maybe she was wrong to distrust Carter’s “uncle” and the leader of the Sententia. She relaxes even further when he seems to accept her refusal to work for the Perceptum after graduation. But with her secrets mounting and time to solve them running out, there’s a final secret Lainey hasn’t learned: Daniel Astor doesn’t take no for an answer. Ever.

  What will Lainey give up to save herself, if she can at all?

  Copyright © 2014 Cara Bertrand

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  www.carabertrand.com

  www.thesententia.com

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-935462-07-1

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-935462-12-5

  Cover Design by Brit Godish

  Images courtesy PhotoXpress.com

  LUMINIS BOOKS

  Meaningful Books That Entertain

  This one is for Kristine, who’s always an inspiration.

  Praise for Lost In Thought Amazon/Penguin Breakthrough Novel Award Finalist

  “…my pick for the winner, a fantastic novel trying to break free…The boarding school setting is a lot of fun, and the chemistry with Carter snaps…Lainey and Carter begin exploring the provenance of Lainey’s Legacy, the true extent of her powers, and just how those powers might be manipulated, the book starts to pick up momentum, leading to an action-packed ending with a twist that will leave readers clamoring for the next installment.” – Gayle Forman, New York Times Bestselling Author of If I Stay

  “…the novel is full of characters teen readers will enjoy spending time with, especially Lainey’s vivacious roommate, Amy, and Carter, the mysterious and swoon-worthy love interest…a nice dose of romance, mystery, and supernatural thrills keeps the pages turning.” – Jennifer Besser, Vice President and Publisher of G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers

  “The tale of Lainey Young’s journey from being a seemingly normal girl with a secret to an extraordinary girl with many secrets will draw readers in and leave them wanting more! Cara Bertrand’s sharp writing makes the unbelievable utterly believable, and the well-drawn characters likeable and equally despicable and, in Carter’s case, irresistible. Tinged with mystery from page one, Lost in Thought keeps readers guessing from beginning to end, and will appeal to paranormal romance fans of all ages.” – Amy Ackley, author of Sign Language

  “Compelling and solid, this paranormal thriller has it all: love, murder, intrigue, mind games, and a bit of mystery.” – Publishers Weekly

  “X-Men meets teen romance…Fans of paranormal romance will find a lot to like in Lost in Thought, this vividly written tale sets the stage for an exciting series to come.” —Jill Baguchinsky, author of Spookygirl

  “…a quietly compelling supernatural romance. A promising start to a series that will find a fan base.” – Danielle Serra, School Library Journal

  “Vampire Academy meets Spellbound… Simply put, Lost in Thought is an absolute must. You’ll fall in love with the shocking story and amazing ending.” – Samantha Pomier, Girls’ Life Magazine

  “Fans of paranormal romance, as well as readers who enjoy stories that delve into ‘what-if,’ will certainly enjoy this first installment from Bertrand.” – Beth Green, VOYA

  “I very much enjoyed this book. I love weird goings-on at boarding schools, but this book is not as Lois Duncan as I was expecting…even though it’s definitely paranormal, it feels very contemporary, too. Recommended. – kellyvision

  “Cara Bertrand has created a world I intend to visit again…with the next book.” – booksandwhatnot.com

  Prologue

  My boyfriend is going to kill me.

  It was the same thought I woke to every single morning, bolting upright in bed before reminding myself sternly that he only might kill me. The future was never definite.

  I would change this.

  If I could.

  Chapter One

  Legs a little wider, Lainey,” Carter’s voice sounded in my ear. “Good.” He reached around me and pushed my arms up a little higher. “Perfect.”

  “I’m really getting better at this, aren’t I?” Probably I shouted, but I couldn’t help it.

  “You’re a natural,” he replied. It sounded like a whisper. He caressed my arm once more. “Okay, shoot.”

  I sighted the target down the barrel of my Smith and Wesson and fired.

  After ten rounds, I clicked the safety into position and lowered my gun, pulling off my earmuffs and safety glasses as the target came whirring up the motorized track.

  “Very nice, Lainey,” Jeff Revell, Carter’s uncle, said from a short distance away. “All ten hits. I’m impressed.”

  I smiled over my shoulder at him. “Thanks! It might be my best round yet.”

  Carter stepped up behind me again, pulling the target out of the clip while scanning it over. “Definitely. I’m impressed too.” He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the cheek, his lips lingering close to my ear, where he really did whisper this time, “And I didn’t even help.”

  I elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re right,” I agreed. “You didn’t help. Sometimes I think you try to mess me up.” He just laughed and squeezed my arm before putting on his own ear protection and glasses and stepping up to his booth. I knew what he’d really meant though. With his Thought Mover abilities, Carter could “help” with my shooting in a way no one else could. I considered it cheating and had expressly forbidden him from doing it.

  We were in the private range at the local rifle club, a place I never thought I’d visit let alone become a member. But it was a popular destination around Northbrook Academy, in the northwest corner of Massachusetts, and over the summer, it had become one of my favorites. When Carter first told me about his surprising hobby, I’d freaked out and refused to ride in his car if there was a gun in it. Of course, he’d laughed and explained he never carried a gun. He kept them at the range, and now I did too.

  Shooting with the two of them came with definite benefits. First, they were both crack shots and excellent instructors. Second, because of Jeff’s retired military status and their long-time membership, they got all sorts of privileges, including regular use of the private range. The general club range was larger, louder, and constantly bustling with distractions. I always shot better in the private room, where there were only three stalls, soundproofed walls, and never any outside observers. A private gallery kept anyone watching hidden and silent behind a dark pane of mirrored, one-way glass.

  “Another round?” Carter asked, after he and Jeff looked over their nearly perfect targets. They’d stay all afternoon given the chance.

  But after getting up early for a final shift at one of my summer jobs—as the counter waitress at Dad’s Diner, where Carter and I had gone on our first “date”—I was exhaus
ted. “Can’t,” I told him. “My arms are shaking, and I need a nap all the way until tomorrow.”

  “Back to reality,” Carter said as he walked me to the parking lot. He grinned, but it was forced, more a sigh than a smile. Neither of us reached for our keys as we stood together. When we left, it would mean the end of our weeks of summer fun, filled with trips to the beach, trips to the shooting range, and zero hours of homework.

  “Back to work,” I said, leaning on my car and pulling Carter closer.

  “Back to studying.”

  “Back to you distracting me from studying.”

  He rested his hands on my hips with a real smile this time and kissed the end of my nose. “I am an excellent study partner.”

  “If I don’t want to study.” I pushed on his chest with my palm but it didn’t move him. I left my hand there, where I could feel his heartbeat, and he leaned in to kiss me again.

  “How about, back to friends and fires in the fireplace? It’s not all bad.”

  “Back to sweaters and boots and no-more-tan,” I countered. “Goodbye, beach weather.”

  “Hello good running weather.”

  “You’ll miss the beach, too.”

  He shook his head, leaning in even further. “No, I’ll miss you on the beach. I like fall.”

  “Well, I like summer, and you, so I’ll miss the beach and all the extra time with you.”

  “Then I’ll have to make the most of the time we’ve got.”

  He kissed me goodbye with an enthusiasm that made his words into a promise and I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t ever want to let go. If I could have folded myself into Carter’s kisses and lived in them, I would have. Finally, I pulled back, leaning my head against his broad chest and closing my eyes.

  If only I knew how much time we had, I thought to myself, before lightly tracing my fingers up Carter’s arm. He hugged me tighter then, and I melted into his embrace, wishing it was the whole reason for my touch.

  But it wasn’t.

  As soon as I brushed his bare skin, I opened my Grim Diviner senses—the ones that told me how people died or were going to die—to try again to see my future more clearly. A few months ago, when I foresaw that I was going to die, and that somehow Carter would be the cause, there were no details to tell me how or when.

  But despite checking once, twice, twelve times a day since, there was still nothing new.

  I’D MEANT WHAT I told Carter before we left the range—I couldn’t wait to get back to my room and sleep all the way until the students arrived tomorrow.

  When I finally walked up to Marquise House, my dorm, I discovered a pale blue chair outside the building. I stared at it, admiring how the soft fabric matched the sky. It looked comfortable, like I could curl up in it and read a book or fall asleep right there on the front porch. I contemplated doing either of those things, but I already knew exactly how comfortable the chair would be. When I’d left that morning, it had been located in my room.

  I looked around and considered the possibilities. One, I’d been robbed. If that was the case, they weren’t very good at it and had left behind a huge and expensive piece of evidence. Or two, Amy Moretti, my roommate and absolutely best friend in the world, had come back to campus a day early. I hurried up the stairs to find out why our furniture was leaving the building.

  The second I opened the door to my room, I slammed it shut in front of me. Maybe I had been robbed. Either that, or I was at the wrong room—the place was a mess, furniture pushed around haphazardly and half-covered in sheets, and the wrong color. It used to be blue, like the chair. The walls behind this door bore a mix of soft and darker, gem-toned green.

  A glance down the familiar hall confirmed I was in the right place. When I reopened the door, sure enough, there was my roommate, smiling at me from beneath a liberal spattering of green paint. She looked like she had the measles and I laughed as she engulfed me in a hug.

  “Lainey!” she shrieked. “Oops! Sorry. I hope I didn’t get paint on you, but where the hell have you been?! I’ve been here since, like, sunrise! We’re almost done, and you didn’t even get to help.”

  I pulled away, a huge smile testing the limits of my face even though my shirt looked like it had caught her illness. “I’m sorry. If I’d known you were coming, I would have made sure to be here…not that it looks like you needed my help. I didn’t realize we were making changes.” Amy and her mother, who’d waved at me from where she was hidden behind about twenty bags full of new pillows, towels, and other decorations, really must have been there all day working on redecorating.

  “Well, I wanted to surprise you!” Amy tugged me further into the mess. “You’re going to need a new comforter and sheets, by the way; I’ll help you order them later. The old look was nice and all, but it was just so—calm. We’re seniors now! I thought we should have something a little spicier.”

  Our room was definitely spicier, I’d give her that. The colors were rich, but not garish, and made me think of one of the beautiful royal bedrooms at the Palace of Versailles, a place I’d visited back when I was still a world traveler. Only Amy could have orchestrated this transformation, and only at Northbrook would it even be allowed. “I love it,” I told her truthfully. “And you know I default to you on all questions of style and decorating.”

  She giggled and hugged me again. “Of course you love it, silly. I have excellent taste, and I have a surprise for you. Mr. Valser and my dad are getting ready to bring it up!”

  The surprise was actually accompanied not only by Mr. Valser, the grounds manager, and Dr. Moretti, but also Caleb Sullivan, Amy’s boyfriend, and his father too. I heard them struggling down the hall before Caleb kicked open the door with a grunt.

  “Shit, Ame,” he said, then swallowed and glanced apologetically at Amy’s father. “I mean, shoot, sorry Dr. Moretti, but this thing weighs a ton. We barely got it up here!”

  This thing was possibly the most amazing antique divan I’d ever seen. My mouth dropped open as I took in the pristine chartreuse silk, gilt woodwork, and thick rolled arms on each end. It looked like a piece that could have come from a palace bedroom. I didn’t care how much it weighed, or how big of a pain it would be to get out of the room at the end of the year, because antique furniture was my first true love and this baby was going to live with me.

  “Hello, beautiful,” I breathed, trying hard not to drool. Amy glowed with self-satisfaction.

  “Suck it up, Caleb,” she said with a mock scowl. “You need to get back in shape for swimming anyway. You’re getting paunchy.” Which was hardly true. Caleb was about five feet ten inches of solid muscle. Amy poked his not-paunchy stomach before turning her beaming smile back on me. “I knew you’d love it! We found it over the summer and I designed the whole room around it. You’ll never believe how cheap it was, either. A total steal, you’d be proud of me. Daddy even said you could keep it at the end of the year, right Daddy?” Her father was out of breath as they struggled to maneuver the couch into place but he managed to nod and smile at me.

  “Well that’s great news,” Caleb huffed, “because that means your boyfriend can carry it back down the stairs.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” I joked, forgetting momentarily that it might. That I might not be here when it was time to move out.

  HOURS LATER, AFTER our room was rearranged and redecorated, our stomachs were fed, and Amy’s parents were long gone, the two of us lounged in our own beds, exhausted. We left the windows open to dispel the lingering scent of paint, making the room cool and filling it with the complex symphony of the woods at night, chirps and howls and wind through leaves. I snuggled under my soon-to-be-replaced comforter. I was surprised my eyes were still open, but after nearly three months of essentially living by myself, I was excited to have my roommate back.

  “Have you thought any more—” I started to say, but Amy cut me off completely.

  “No, so stop asking.” She fluffed her brown curls out around her, and I kn
ew her peevishness wasn’t entirely an act. We were both stressed about the big college decisions we were facing, sooner rather than later. “I have months to declare a major, right?”

  “Sorry. I’m just curious what you’re going to choose.”

  “Me too,” she said lightly, but then frowned. “Daddy still wants me to go pre-med.”

  “But that’s not what you want to do.”

  “Yeah. It’s not. I don’t want to be a surgeon, Lainey. I don’t want to cut people open.” She grimaced. I didn’t blame her for that one. She turned onto her side and propped her head on her hand. “It must be nice to know exactly what you want to do, huh?”

  I laughed. “I suppose. It must be nice to know exactly where you want to go.” Despite that we hadn’t quite started our senior year, Amy, teen genius, had already applied and been accepted early decision to MIT. And while I knew I would go to business school, since I’d dreamed of running my own antiques business since I was about thirteen, which one was weighing heavily on my mind.

  “You know you love Boston…” She’d been encouraging me for months to come to the city with her, even if I was at a different school.

  “I do,” I told her. “And it’s a top contender, I promise. But…I don’t want to disappoint Aunt Tessa either.” My “Aunt” Tessa had actually been my mother for as long as I could remember. She wasn’t technically my aunt, but really my Godmother. She also, I knew, hoped I’d choose her alma mater in Baltimore, where she’d met my parents and I’d been born.

  “Lane, seriously, you could run away to join the circus and not disappoint your aunt. She’ll be happy with you no matter what.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true, but it was funny. “I’d make a great trapeze artist, don’t you think? Maybe I should consider it. Where’s a good circus school?”

  Amy giggled too, but I could tell she was fading fast. Not before she had one more question though. “And Carter…?”

  “Tiger trainer?”

 

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