An expression of relief washed over Patrick’s face. ‘Of course you are. Have you spoken to anyone today?’
‘I had an email from Isabella last night. And one from, um, Ranjit.’
‘Who’s Ranjit?’
‘Just a boy in one of my classes,’ replied Cassie, flustered. ‘Why?’
Patrick’s grin grew wider and his blue eyes glittered. ‘Because you blushed when you said his name.’
‘Oh, give over!’ Cassie gave him a playful shove.
‘He’s not your boyfriend, then?’
‘Not, he’s not,’ she said hurriedly.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘No. Really.’ Cassie twisted her fingers into the cashmere sweater that her friend Isabella had sent her for Christmas. ‘It’s … complicated.’
Ha! That was the understatement of the century. Her few snatched moments with Ranjit at the end of term had hardly given them time to define their relationship. All she knew was that her stomach twisted with longing every time he came into her mind, but that he was back home in India. Thousands of miles away. She’d just have to put up with missing him – missing him like she could die of it.
Absorbed in her memories, she jumped at the sound of her ringtone. Pulling her phone from her jeans pocket, Cassie almost dropped it when she saw the name on the display. She felt the blood rushing to her face again.
‘Speak of the devil,’ chuckled Patrick as he went back into the dining room.
Cassie winced inwardly at his choice of words. She still didn’t understand what the Few truly were. Gods and monsters, Ranjit had once joked bitterly. So which was he? Cassie didn’t know. She wasn’t sure that he knew himself.
Pushing her worries out of her mind, she clasped the phone to her ear like a lifeline. ‘Ranjit!’
He must be able to hear the stupid grin she was wearing, even half a world away.
‘Cassandra.’ The soft warmth of his voice made her forget the freezing sleet and even, for a moment, the raging hunger. ‘Happy Christmas.’
‘Same to you.’ Breathless, she sat down on the stairs. It was criminal how much she missed him. Criminal, and deeply inconvenient. ‘Oh, it’s good to hear from you.’
‘Are you OK?’ He sounded concerned.
‘I’m fine. Fine. Just a bit …’
‘The hunger is growing, isn’t it?’
Cassie was quiet for a moment. It was a relief to speak to someone who knew what she was going through. Ranjit had been there before.
‘Yes,’ she said at last, and laughed shakily. ‘You got it.’
‘It won’t be long, Cassandra. A week and a half. Will you be all right?’
‘I’m fine. Honestly. I just …’ She hesitated, then thought, Take a leap of faith, girl. ‘I miss you. A lot.’
‘Oh God, me too.’ The vehemence in his voice was shocking, coming from the normally cool and collected Ranjit Singh. He almost sounded relieved. ‘I miss you and I’m worried about you. Have you, ah, heard from Estelle?’
She swallowed. ‘Once or twice. But the old bat’s been quiet lately. I hope she’s curled up and died of hunger.’
‘It isn’t going to hapen, Cassie.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Take care of yourself. Please?’
She smiled, couldn’t help it ‘Course I will. And I’ll see you soon.’
‘Can’t be soon enough.’ He gave a low laugh. ‘Listen, I have to go. I’ll talk to you again when I can.’
Tears stung her eyes as her stomach twisted again. ‘Bye, Ranjit. Happy Christmas.’
‘And you, again. I miss you, remember.’
Cassie snapped the phone shut before she started to blub. She buried her face in her hands, shocked by the strength of longing. Oh, this was ridiculous. She was supposed to be tough. She’d get through this. The hunger to feed, the hunger for Ranjit …
Stop. Stop.
The trouble was, she was hungry. Overcome with a desperate, intangible hunger for something beyond mere food. But there was nothing she could do except wait it out. If you stayed off chocolate long enough, you lost the taste for it. If you lasted a few weeks without cigarettes, you wouldn’t want them any more.
Yes, and if you give up breathing for a while, you’ll lose the taste for oxygen!
Cassie stiffened.
Well, really, my dear. You do amuse me!
Ignore her, Cassie told herself. Don’t pay any attention.
Easier said than done. Just the sound of Estelle’s voice in her head was enough to send the hunger sweeping through her with renewed force, so that she almost lost her balance, tipping forward.
She heard a door open and close. Footsteps. A voice …
‘Cassie? Are you OK?’ Patrick’s tone was concerned.
She leaped to her feet, fists clenched. OK? What did that mean? Of course she was OK! She’d never be less than OK, never less than powerful and beautiful and confident. The stupidity of the man!
No! He’d done so much for her. She didn’t know what she’d have done without him.
Estelle’s whisper was like the caress of a serpent. And he could do so much more, my dear.
Patrick looked nervous under her steady, feverish stare. Yes. Estelle was right. A good friend like Patrick would always give of himself. She could rely on Patrick. He was strong, young, confident. Perfect.
‘Cassie?’
Ah, she was just so damn hungry. She stretched her lips into a rictus smile. ‘I’m fine.’
Don’t talk. Let him come closer. I can smell him …
Patrick took a pace back, and she thought she saw him shiver. ‘Stop fooling around, Cassie. Your dinner’s getting cold.’
You seem warm enough to me.
‘OK, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.’ He was turning away. ‘Come back when you’re ready.’
‘STOP!’
She launched herself from the step, almost flew after him. Seizing his collar, she yanked him back, spinning him around. Her fingers found his jaw, gripping him, tugging him towards her. He tried to pull away, but he didn’t stand a chance. Not a chance. She laughed out loud.
His eyes were full of terror, and his panicked breath was in her face. She could smell him again: oh, the life of him! Her lips were pulled back when she caught sight of a figure beyond the glass panel of the front door. For an instant her heart seemed to stop, and she stiffened and growled. A face snarled back at her, feral and mad, like a rabid animal. And then, with a sickening jolt to her gut, she knew. It wasn’t some monster trying to break into the house. It was her own reflection.
‘Oh, my God!’ She let go of Patrick so fast he crumpled to the floor. She stumbled back and away from him.
His terrified eyes were locked on her, the bright blue dilated almost to black. She expected that. But she didn’t expect the words that fell from his mouth.
‘Oh God, Cassie. Not you. Not you!’
What?
For half a second she stood, hands over her mouth, staring at Patrick. Then she turned on her heel and fled. She didn’t slow down as she took the stairs two at a time, crashed into her room, furiously grabbed a chair and jammed it under the handle. There. That was as safe as it got. As he got.
Cassie slumped to the floor, exhausted. It could have been worse, she told herself, as her heartbeat slowed. So much worse.
Ah, who was she trying to kid? She’d lost control. She could have hurt Patrick. Killed him even. Jamming her fists into her mouth, Cassie bit down until she drew blood. A few more days, that was all. A few days and she’d be back at the Academy. Back with its mysterious principal Sir Alric Darke. He must be able to help her fight this. She’d see no one until then.
But Cassandra, my sweet, I’m HUNGRY!
The plaintive, angry voice echoed and bounced around her skull, it felt so light and empty. She was dizzy with hunger. But she’d control it. It was just a few days. Only a matter of time …
That’s right! In the echo-chamber of her head, Estelle sounded vindictive a
nd ravenous, but triumphant. Oh yes, Cassandra, my dearest girl! Only a matter of time …
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
The Darke Academy series:
Copyright
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
Preview
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