Bewildered, Raven headed out of his homeroom and down the hall. It’s too soon in the semester for me to be failing. Besides which, I’ve made an effort to turn in all my homework and to be prepared for my classes. Did Tori make a complaint to Mr. Ashton about me? When he entered the Head of School’s office, he was shocked to find the person he least expected waiting for him in the reception area.
“Lord Birmingham!” Raven forced a welcoming smile to his face and extended his hand for a handshake. “Dad told me you might be coming to town, but not until next month.”
The corners of Birmingham’s mouth turned up. “Hello, lad. Actually, your big move to Los Angeles put a bee in my bonnet. I’m hoping you can do us a huge favor.”
“Us?”
The door to the inner office opened and Mr. Ashton escorted two young people out. Raven’s mouth opened in shock. Blazes! What are Fletcher and Felicia doing here?
“Hello, Raven,” Felicia cooed.
“All right there, Raven?” Fletcher gave him a broad grin.
Mr. Ashton beamed at Raven’s dumbfounded expression, apparently mistaking it for pleasure. “Has Lord Birmingham told you the good news? His grandchildren are enrolling in our school for the rest of the semester!”
Somebody pinch me. I’m having a nightmare.
Birmingham put a hand on Raven’s shoulder. “Mr. Ashton has put Fletcher and Felicia in as many of your classes as possible. Anything you can do to ease their transition would be greatly appreciated.”
“Why, of course,” Raven managed. “I think they’ll fit in perfectly here.” True. The blond twins had always been perfectly groomed and hopelessly chic. No doubt everyone would be impressed with their royal pedigree, too. Whether or not Felicia and Fletcher had an enjoyable matriculation at Performing Arts Prep didn’t concern him, however. The twins were there to discover the Leap Day child, and would shadow him until he inadvertently revealed Tori. This is the worst of all possible developments!
Felicia gave Raven’s arm a squeeze. “I just love it! The three of us are back together again.”
“Inseparable,” Fletcher said.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Birmingham said. “I’m off to visit your father, Raven. Why don’t you text him and let him know I’m on my way?”
What a cool customer. “Yes, sir, I certainly will.”
After shaking hands with Mr. Ashley, Birmingham left. The secretary called Felicia and her brother over to her desk to give them their class schedules and a map of the campus. Fletcher lingered to speak with Raven a moment.
“You ought to give your father a ring right away, old chap. He won’t want to have any family secrets lying about when my grandfather arrives.”
“We haven’t any family secrets, but I’m sure my father would appreciate a little notice. Nobody likes uninvited guests. Speaking of which, I suppose your grandfather had to make a huge donation to get you and Felicia into the school at the last moment.”
“Certainly. Of course, your father had to do the same in order to get you enrolled midyear, especially with your poor school marks.”
Raven laughed. “Same old Fletcher. You might get over that inferiority complex someday. Perhaps you should ask the secretary for a map to your behind. I don’t think you could find it with both hands.”
It was Fletcher’s turn to chuckle. “Oh, I don’t need a map to find that. In fact, I don’t need a map to find a great many things.”
He winked, turned on his heel, and joined his sister at the secretary’s desk. Raven whipped out his cell phone and texted his father:
Lord Birmingham on his way to the house right now. Grandkids here at school with me for remainder of term.
After he sent the text, he hesitated only a moment before devising a text message to Tori—cryptic, in case the Fletcher or Felicia pinched his cell:
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. I have every confidence in your acting ability, Tori. Be careful.
After the text was sent, he stashed his phone into a pocket and assumed a new, precarious role of a lifetime—that of a daredevil tightrope walker. If he slipped up, however, it would be Tori’s life at stake.
Chapter Ten
Slings and Arrows
TORI THOROUGHLY ENJOYED the sensation her new hairstyle created at school. It was almost as if she’d become an entirely different person just by altering her look. Although it was a little odd to see heads turn as she walked past, she had to admit the attention was thrilling. Perhaps some good had come from Xavier Saltare’s cruel rejection; the pain had forced her to step out of the rigid box she’d fashioned for herself over the years. Certainly much of the credit went to Misty for suggesting the change, but if Tori had been happy with herself she wouldn’t have agreed to it. Her free flowing hair seemed to be a metaphor for her state of mind. She felt unbound—and somewhat daringly sexy. Jenny and Deborah were impressed.
“I wouldn’t have told you to cut your hair for a million bucks,” Jenny said. “Now that you have, I can’t believe what a difference it’s made.”
“You were gorgeous before, but now you look like a star,” Deborah said.
The effusive praise made Tori’s face flush. “I don’t know about any of that, but I do feel different. I’m glad you like it.”
A strange text from Raven arrived on Tori’s phone during homeroom. She was present when the teacher sent him to the school office, and so presumed he was texting her from there. After she read the message, she wondered if it was a joke. But he’s not the type to joke around. Still, she was bewildered at his reference to her acting ability. Auditions for the showcase were weeks away, so he could scarcely be referring to that. The words “be careful” stuck out in her mind as some sort of warning—but about what? Something has happened, but why can’t he be more specific?
Although Raven was almost always in the theater when she arrived, today his usual seat was empty. George did a double take when he saw her. “Tori, you look sensational!” Several people crowded around to admire her hair, and again she felt a tug of pleasure at being the center of attention. Despite the fact she had bigger concerns to worry about, she couldn’t help but wonder what Raven’s reaction would be. When he appeared, however, his gaze passed over her as if she weren’t there. He was flanked by two teens—a handsome fair-haired boy with a square jaw and cocky attitude, and a beautiful sleek blonde.
George peered at the girl, whistling softly in admiration. “I’m not worthy.”
A flash of annoyance. Men are so fickle.
Raven escorted the newcomers over to the drama teacher. “Mr. Strunk, allow me to introduce two new students, Fletcher and Felicia Harrington. Their grandfather, Lord Birmingham, used to work with my father in London.”
George leaned closer to whisper, “What is this, a British invasion?”
Tori made no reply. Lord Birmingham? That’s what Raven was trying to warn me about. His grandchildren are here, looking for me. Panic took over, and her palms became clammy. She forced herself to remain calm and consider her present predicament like a strategic game of chess. If these Nephilim siblings are clever, they’ll be watching Raven, assuming the Leap Day child will be among his friends. If I go out of my way to ignore them, they might wonder why. If I can’t avoid them, I should get them to like me. Even if I’m found out eventually, only the coldest sort of person could kill a friend.
Before he was seated, Fletcher scanned his new classmates. When his eyes settled on Tori, she gave him a flirtatious smile. Your move. Too far away to speak, he returned the smile with a saucy wink. Countermove.
Fletcher elbowed Raven. “Who’s that girl?”
I should play dumb. “Which one?”
“The one in back who looks like a supermodel.”
Trust Fletcher to pick her out the best looking girl right away. “Oh…you must mean Tori.”
Felicia overheard and craned her neck to catch a glimpse for herself. “Fletcher, she’s not your type.”<
br />
“What type is she?”
“Wholesome.”
A laugh. “I can adjust.”
“Oh dear,” Felicia pouted. “I’ll have to warn her off. You simply can’t waltz into the Colonies and despoil the rebels.”
“Who said anything about despoilment? Maybe I’d like to date a nice girl for once.”
“What do you think, Raven? Does Fletcher have a chance with her?”
“I’m not a matchmaker. Let him get his own girls.”
“I’m amazed you haven’t planted your flag,” she said.
Raven said nothing. Evidently intrigued with his lack of response, Felicia continued to press. “Perhaps you tried, and she shot you down?”
To Raven’s relief, the class began, saving him from answering. Mr. Strunk tapped Felicia to do a cold reading from Romeo and Juliet, partnering her with Raven. As Raven followed her on stage, he felt an overwhelming urge to do well—if only to annoy Fletcher. From the start of the balcony scene, he poured everything he had into it. He was young Romeo, caught up in the throes of sweet young love, willing to risk everything for the daughter of his sworn enemy. He wooed Juliet, with his intensity, wit, and style. As for Felicia, her take on Juliet was vibrant and vivid, with a passionate undercurrent. She matched him, beat for beat, and when the scene ended, applause and whistles ensued.
“Very, very nice,” Mr. Strunk said. “Tell us about your acting training, Felicia.”
Always effervescent and confident, Felicia was more forthcoming about her background than Raven had been with his. She ran through the schools she’d attended as well as professional credits, including the Shakespeare festival she’d appeared in last summer—not Raven’s favorite memory.
“Raven and I were both part of the troupe.” Felicia flashed him her most dazzling smile. “It was quite an intimate partnership.” Wink.
Titters from his classmates followed her remark. Blazes! Why did Felicia have to insinuate we’d been lovers, right in front of Tori? Embarrassed, he left the stage and took a seat. To his dismay, Felicia insisted on sitting next to him.
“That was uncalled for,” he said under his breath.
“Don’t be so buttoned up,” she whispered. “Most men would be flattered.”
“Most men don’t know you like I do.”
“Let’s hear the same scene from Fletcher and…” Mr. Strunk surveyed his students. “Tori.”
Ian’s consternation at Raven’s text message had not worn off by the time a limousine arrived at Blackfriars West. Lord Birmingham emerged first, followed by a middle-aged man and woman who were infinitely more welcome.
“Mrs. Turnbull and Quigley!” Ian exclaimed. “How marvelous!”
Quigley looked down at himself, clearly abashed at his rumpled suit. “Forgive our disarray, sir, but we’ve been traveling.”
“Yes, we arrived at the airport late last night,” Mrs. Turnbull said. “Lord Birmingham sent a car to pick us up.”
Bewildered, Ian gaped. “But your papers…”
Birmingham beamed. “I have a contact in the State Department who managed to get things expedited.”
Ian shook Birmingham’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Although genuinely grateful for Birmingham’s intervention, Ian wasn’t foolish enough to believe the gesture came with no strings attached. After he showed Mrs. Turnbull and Quigley to their new quarters, he joined Birmingham in the living room. The Institute director was wandering around, examining the gothic architecture.
“This house must have historic significance?”
“It’s a former monastery,” Ian replied. “Fifty monks lived here at one time.”
“Ha! Well that explains the spiritual vibration.”
“I’m a bit surprised to see you, sir. I didn’t expect you until next month.”
“That’s exactly what your son told me this morning.”
“Yes. Raven’s text message said you’ve enrolled Fletcher and Felicia in his school?”
“Indeed, I did.” He paused. “Ian, I have a proposition for you, if you’ll hear me out.”
Instantly on guard, Ian peered at him. Here come the strings.
Tori’s grudging admiration for Felicia’s accomplished performance turned into active antipathy when she announced her formerly intimate relationship with Raven to the entire class. Furthermore, Felicia had a disconcerting manner toward Raven—as if she owned him. Even if she weren’t hunting me, I wouldn’t like her…and she’s all wrong for Juliet anyway. So when Mr. Strunk called Tori’s name to read with Felicia’s brother, she was pleased for the chance to show what she could do. Perhaps her training wasn’t as extensive as Felicia’s, but Raven’s coaching had boosted her confidence.
As she joined Fletcher on stage, she tried to remember everything Raven told her about keeping her eyes off the page as much as possible, and speaking her lines from the diaphragm. Fletcher’s admiring gaze flickered up and down her frame.
“You must be an angel because my prayers were just answered,” he murmured.
What a corny line! “Let’s hope my halo never slips.”
His dimples deepened with boyish appreciation at her rejoinder. “I’ll be happy to catch it, if it does.”
Despite Fletcher’s silly flirtatious manner, or perhaps because of it, she liked him—certainly far more than she did his sister. He was like a splendid, shining otter, gamboling in pleasure and delighted with himself. Her feelings spilled over into the scene, which she enjoyed immensely. Performing with Fletcher was fun, pure and simple, and he seemed to appreciate her portrayal of Juliet as an innocent young girl on the brink of womanhood.
Their performance was as well-received as Raven and Felicia’s had been, although Tori knew most of its success was due to Fletcher’s expertise.
“I must say, Tori, you’ve vastly improved since the first time I saw you read,” Mr. Strunk said. “I encourage you to audition for the showcase.”
“Thank you.”
Tori returned to her seat while Strunk quizzed Fletcher about his training. Like his sister, Fletcher took pride in his extensive stage background. Sitting to Tori’s right, George sighed. “No lack of self-esteem in that family.”
His assessment of the Harringtons was accurate, as far as it went. Tori suspected the twins were used to getting what they wanted, whether it be killing demons or in their personal lives. Like them or hate them, I really wish they were on my side.
Thankfully, Raven had used a generous application of antiperspirant and deodorant that morning. Otherwise, the pressure of dealing with Fletcher and Felicia would have had him sopping wet and reeking of panic. Fortunately, his second period was math class. For fifty minutes, he lost himself in calculations, eager to focus on logic and reason instead of the horror show his day had become. Furthermore, it was grating to watch Tori flirting with Fletcher during drama class. How could he dissuade her from the terribly risky game she was playing? If she’d failed to understand from his oblique text message the danger posed by the Harringtons, he’d have to spell it out. But how can I get her alone?
When the lunch bell rang, the twins joined him as he walked toward the cafeteria across the quad.
“I can hardly wait to eat American food,” Felicia said.
“I don’t suppose they serve fish and chips?” Fletcher asked.
Fuming, Raven stopped in his tracks. “All right, what are you two doing here?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Felicia’s blue eyes were all innocence.
“For the same reason you’re here, I imagine,” Fletcher said.
Although he knew full well why they had come, Raven pretended otherwise. “To break into Hollywood? Considering the fact you’ve both been accepted to The Royal Drama Academy of London next fall, that’s absurd.”
“We mightn’t attend.” Felicia shrugged. “The whole point of matriculating at RDAL is to get cast in films.”
“That’s right. We decided to cut to the chase, as they sa
y.” Fletcher grinned.
“Bollocks. And there’s no reason to hover over me like stink on fish. We’re not friends.”
Felicia pouted. “Come now, Raven. I behaved badly toward you, I’ll admit it. Can’t we start over?”
“Yes, let’s start over,” Fletcher said. “Don’t forget, I saved your life, Raven. That means we’re sort of brothers, in a spiritual sense.”
“What a ghastly notion.” Raven gestured toward the cafeteria. “Food is that way. I’m off to work out.”
He turned on his heel and left the twins standing on the grass. The punching bag in the weight room definitely had the Harringtons’ name on it.
Tori, Deborah, and Jenny brought their lunch trays to a table underneath a window.
“Have you met the new students?” Deborah asked.
“I saw them in the hall. They reminded me of London Barbie and Ken,” Jenny said.
“Fletcher and Felicia are in my drama class. They’re very accomplished actors,” Tori said. And probably accomplished demon hunters, too. “Raven introduced them to Mr. Strunk as friends of his.”
Kirstin plopped her tray down on the table. “You talking about the newbies? The guy is hot.” She peered at Tori. “Your hair is amazing. Where’d you get it done?”
Tori couldn’t believe Kirstin was talking to her in a civil fashion…about hair no less. Had getting rid of that imp turned her into a human being at last?
“A salon in Beverly Hills,” Tori replied.
“I think I’ll get mine cut. It’s so boring and takes forever to dry.”
Jenny and Deborah echoed frustration with their hair too, and for the next few minutes the discussion revolved around hair dryers and styling techniques. A distinctive male English accent broke into their conversation.
“Ladies, do you mind if we join you?”
Fletcher and Felicia sat down—without Raven. Although Tori wanted to ask about him, she didn’t dare. Instead, she introduced the twins to Jenny, Deborah, and Kirstin.
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