“He killed my mother,” Cami whispers. Cradled into my arms, she’s shaking. “I saw it at my Claiming. A man in a hat and a blue trench coat. He’s the one that organized the ambush on Mom and forced her to choose between a horrible prison of pain and killing herself. He may not have slit her throat, but he’s the reason she’s dead. And he wanted her to give me up to him.”
My chest swells with rage and squeezes in pain with every heartbeat. “He’s Bryar’s father.” I feel more than see Cami’s gaze on me while she connects the dots. “She has his eyes. Even Father admitted it.”
She sniffles and rests her forehead against mine. “Everything is so twisted.”
“They are, but we’re not,” I say. Her cheek, wet in tears, dampens mine. “They may be evil, but we don’t have to be. We can fight back. We can keep the bonds they want to destroy.” I can’t get into all the things Father told me, not when she’s so upset about Vaughn’s arrival, but I can at least assure her. “You can count on me. I’ll be on your side. Even when I pretend in front of them, even when I don’t sound like it, even when I don’t know how to help, I’ll always be there for you.”
Cami slides down the armrest of the couch and pulls me with her until we’re lying on our sides, facing each other. We’re a tangle of limbs, and as we kiss, I run my hand up her thigh until I feel the soft fabric of her shorts.
She only leans into me more, so I can’t resist. I take my mouth off hers and sink lower to plant kisses down her neck and behind her ear. She writhes at the tickles, then pulls me back up to her lips. This time, it’s me who breaks the kiss. It’s a slippery slope from here onward. And I don’t want us going there when she’s been upset.
“Cami,” I breathe, my voice hoarse. “We shouldn’t... I should probably go.”
“Before Dad catches us?” she teases.
“Before it gets even harder to drag myself away from you.” I can’t resist giving her a quick peck on the lips.
“I hate that we have to hide,” she whispers against my lips.
I don’t have it in me to tell her how important it is that we keep up the act or what fate I’ll face if we let our guard down. So instead, I push up from the couch, then pull her up by the hand.
Cami stiffens and whips around.
“What is it?” I ask in a whisper.
Facing the double doors, she listens for a long moment. “Dad’s up. He might check on me. You need to go.”
I’m already halfway to the back door. Cami rushes after me and seems to trip over a fallen pillow.
“Cami?” her father calls from upstairs.
I swing the door open, but halt before I exit. “There’s something else.”
Cami pushes me over the threshold. “What?”
Too many things, but I decide on the most urgent one. “The new hunters have something planned to make sure you don’t get close enough to the other legacies to form a circle.”
Cami looks back to the light that went on in the entrance. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not trying to bind a circle.”
“I know, but they seem to want to make sure. They have something planned for Vanessa.” I swallow my own involvement in choosing Vanessa as a target. There’s no time to explain, and I dread doing so. “I know you don’t like her very much but keep an eye on her if you can. Please.”
“All right,” she says before her lips reach mine for a brief goodbye kiss. “Now go.”
She slams the door shut when her father calls for her again.
I duck to make sure I’m out of sight. As I crouch in the darkness, waiting for them to go upstairs, I stew in the sensation that this warning may as well have been a shout against the wind. If Vanessa comes to any harm, it will be my fault alone.
Chapter 21. Cami
THAT NIGHT, I ONLY manage to lull myself to sleep with the thought of Mason’s arms around me. I wake up with a sharp gasp, reliving the vision of the man in the hat and trench coat. Bryar’s father who is planning something for Vanessa.
The farther down the rabbit hole I fall, the more each new revelation twists my insides.
I go through my morning routine absent-mindedly and pull on the first clothes I see in my closet—a cream-colored t-shirt and a black, high-waisted A-line skirt. My stomach is knotted, so I dash to school without even thinking about breakfast.
A black limo parked in front of the wrought-iron gates draws curious looks from the students flooding inside the schoolyard. The door pops out to let out a tall, handsome guy—all smooth dark skin and perfect bone structure. I recognize him from the vision I had in the church. He was walking with Mason alongside Mom’s killer—the man in the midnight-blue trench coat.
Seeing him in person is like a punch to the throat. My breath shudders as I hurry to class. I may as well not have bothered with school today. I’m too nervous to take notes, spying for the new hunter in every class I enter.
As soon as we’re done for the day in Elmwick High, I find Jean and take her outside with me. We walk around the school fence as I tell her about Mason’s visit last night and about the limo.
“It has to belong to him, right, the man in the blue trench coat?” I ask.
Jean nibbles on her red lip. “I guess so. It’s not like we have limo owners in Elmwick.”
We turn the corner and freeze at the sight of the black limo. Jean pushes me back with super speed, so we’re tucked against the stone column at the corner. Our breaths slowing, we watch the man in the midnight-blue trench coat get out, his face obscured under his hat. He leans against the car, waiting. I almost feel as if he’s stepped out of the luxury and comfort of his ride for our benefit.
My heart pounds with dread, and pain, and hatred. I should be able to call the police, to get him thrown in jail for what he’s done to Mom and possibly countless others. The helplessness is suffocating.
Spying for him is a pointless self-torture. Without tangible proof I could present in front of the authorities, I could never expose him. Not when I’d drag all the legacies down with him.
That’s one of the harsher lessons we learn from a young age. We have to close our eyes in the face of injustice at times because protecting the secret of the legacies comes first.
We wait for the limo to move on, tucked behind the corner, and only then dare to return to school through the main gate. But a surprise awaits me at the steps to Elmwick Academy.
The new hunter leans against the railing, casually chatting with Vanessa. Cold dread swoops into my stomach when I remember Mason’s warning. They’re after her. While I try to relax, knowing they couldn’t tear us apart now that Vanessa and I are linked in the circle, it doesn’t mean she’s in the clear. They could still hurt her.
Jean whispers behind me, “Oh, no.” But I’m already headed their way.
Vanessa giggles at something the new hunter says with a smooth British accent. Great. I’ll have to convince her to walk away from the newest, hottest guy in town. That should be easy.
“V, can we talk?” I interrupt without a greeting.
Her amethyst lips spread into a smile, though her eyes shoot a warning my way. “I’m kind of busy right now.”
The new guy leans in closer to her. He lets those enigmatic green eyes do all his bidding. “I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got plans.” He smiles at me and Jean. “I’m Zach, by the way.”
Smooth as a razor and just as dangerous.
Vanessa whips her glossy, black hair back with a new wave of giggles. “Don’t be ssilly. We’ve only just met. I can catch up with Cami and Jean another time.” She says the last two words with a sterner tone and a pointed look at me.
“We’ll leave you to it, then.” Jean tugs me away with an icy grip on my elbow.
“Cheers,” Zach says, but his gaze is on Vanessa again.
Jean pushes me out of earshot, but I refuse to go inside yet, even though we’re about to be late for our self-paced period in the library.
“This is what Mason meant,” I whisper to Jea
n. “They’ve been in town for a day and already have their sights set on Vanessa.”
I’m spiraling into an ocean of panic, my chest heaving. Jean places a hand on my shoulder and studies my face.
“Go,” she says. “I’ll stay and keep her out of trouble. Go.”
I hug her tightly as the knot in my chest unfastens a little. I can’t believe I survived three months without Jean.
“Thanks,” I say and head inside.
As much danger as the circle can bring, there’s no denying that having bonds like these makes us all stronger. It isn’t me against the world anymore, and it isn’t Jean and I fighting to not be ripped apart either. Now that there’s three of us, we can have each other’s backs.
My heartbeat is still stammering through me, loud in my ears, so I flee to the only place I’ll truly feel safe. The bathroom with the pink mirror. The place I get to feel closest to Mom.
I run down the second-floor corridor and burst into the girls’ bathroom, expecting to find it empty. Everyone should be in the library. Instead, I find Charity staring at the pink mirror, tears streaming from her eyes.
At once, she whirls around and hides her face in her hands. Still clutching the door handle with one hand, I feel terrible for bursting in, but then...
“Charity?” I let the door close behind me and take a step toward her. She swerves away. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I let silence hang between us for a second, broken only by her sobs. When she doesn’t chase me away or tell me she’s fine, I grow brave enough to try again.
“Charity?” With small steps, I near her and place a hand on her back, rubbing it up and down to soothe her. “Can I help?”
She flinches, her sobs growing louder, until I can’t take it anymore. With hands on her shoulders, I whirl her around. She lets me drag her into a hug, shaking in my embrace.
“Y-you must think I’m such a loser.”
I loosen the embrace enough to lift her chin and look into her eyes, which swim with tears. “Not in the least.”
I don’t need my banshee instincts to make sense of this. Mom wasn’t the sole creator of the pink mirror. Both of Charity’s parents helped make it. If I’m here seeking comfort in their creation, it isn’t strange that Charity would, too. And while I squirm to think of the fate that befell Charity’s mother, I can’t remember seeing her father since I arrived in town either. Perhaps the mirror brings her closer to them both.
Charity pulls away and wipes her cheeks. “We should go to the library. We’ll be late for self-paced reading.” But as soon as she’s wiped her face, new tears roll down from her thick lashes.
“Forget about self-paced reading.”
I lead her to the space behind the door—a corner between the supplies closet and the first stall. There’s nowhere to sit, but I don’t hesitate to signal her to the floor. I sit with my knees pointing up and my back against the supplies closet. Charity slides down the closet door to join me, but she doesn’t look at me.
Her head tips back as she exhales, trying to calm herself down. “It’s all too much sometimes, you know?”
I nod. “I miss Mom every day.”
Charity presses her palms to her eyes. “At least you had more time with her. I barely remember my mom. I can’t recall her voice anymore, or her smile, or anything. She’s a picture. A fractured memory.”
All I can do is hold her as she doubles over in my lap, sobbing and tearing my heart to bits.
“I’m such a mess,” Charity whimpers. “I try to always... you know, follow the rules and do the right thing and be reasonable.” She hiccups. “And I fail and get mixed up with the likes of Fillan. And...” She sniffles, unable to continue for a moment.
I help her up and wipe her cheeks since she’s given up on it. “Who cares? If you like Fillan, why shouldn’t you go for it?”
Even through the tears in her eyes, she shoots me a quizzical look.
“Yes, all right,” I say. “There’s the whole stigma about the legacy lines mixing, but honestly that’s so old-fashioned and plain stupid.”
“It’s not that,” Charity says. “I just wasn’t brave enough to go for the one I really wanted. It’s too risky, leaves you too open to hurt, and I can’t... I can’t... I can’t do this to myself. Isn’t it odd that I feel safer with a bad boy by my side, simply because I don’t like him enough to grant him the power to hurt me?”
I slowly realize that Charity’s glamorous charm, like a trusted shield, hides more than puffy eyes or the occasional spot. It’s a wall of control, meant to show only perfection to the world. It never was just about looks.
Now the shield is down, and the rest of her seems to shatter with it. “Everybody leaves. Mom died. Dad’s always away. He can’t stand being here after what happened to her. Now I’ve hurt the only person I really care about. And he’ll never forgive me. He’ll never want me after this...” she whimpers and falls into my arms again.
I have never wanted to make someone see reason more than in this moment when the most perfect girl I’ve ever met beats her own bleeding heart to a pulp. My arms tighten around Charity’s shoulders as she shakes and wails in her cries.
I never want her to feel this way. I want her to have a family by her side—the strongest kind. The kind that will never betray her. A new family to accept her no matter what, to make her finally see that she’s enough.
And that she doesn’t owe the world anything. Not perfection. Not submission. Not even an explanation.
My chest swells with the magic, and even though I can sense it happening this time, I don’t try to stop it. “The ones who truly care about you won’t leave you because you kissed the wrong guy or made a mistake.”
This time, I take in the bond in all its beauty. Gold dust bursts out of me, like glittering, ethereal confetti. Then, like a rope of molten pure gold, the link coils from my core and loops around Charity.
She sits up slowly, eyes wide at the sight. The gold reflects in the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, but they’re not sad tears anymore. They’re tears of awe at the beauty enveloping us.
“My circle and I will always have your back.” I clutch her hands into mine as the link bursts into more golden dust, which settles in the breathless silence.
“Oh, my...” She falls speechless. “Did you...?”
“Yes.” I smile and cup her cheek. “I know the last circle hurt you, even though it was never their objective. Let this circle heal your reeling heart.”
Charity nods. The genuine, fresh hope I sense from her through the link makes my heart flutter.
I haven’t forgotten the promise I keep making in front of everyone. The promise I gave Mason. With one more person in my circle, I’ve broken it yet again, but I don’t let guilt rear its ugly head. Not right now.
The circle could lead us down the path of war, but it could heal the hurt, repair the broken, and foster cooperation between the legacies. And that makes me think I was too hasty to promise never to bind it.
What if the legacies need my circle?
I straighten up at the sound of two sets of hurried footsteps in the corridor. Vanessa barges into the bathroom, Jean in tow. While Jean gapes at me and puffy-eyed Charity, Vanessa only exclaims, ‘There you are!”
Jean steps a little closer, eyes dashing between me and Charity. “Wait, did you?”
I shrug and give Charity a little wink. “Say hi to our newest member.”
“What?” Vanessa gapes. “But I wass looking forward to us being like... Charlie’s Angels.”
“Well, make room for the fourth angel.” I stand and give Charity a hand up before I rewind to the last time I saw Vanessa, not more than fifteen minutes ago with that new hunter. I turn to Jean. “Did you tell her he’s a hunter?”
Vanessa snorts, making me roll my eyes at her. “You don’t think I knew? He’s been paying extra attention to me.”
“Because they’re setting a trap for you. They don’t know about our link and seem to have t
hought of a way to make sure it never happens,” I rehash Mason’s explanation, keeping an eye on Charity.
Perhaps it’s too soon to throw her into all this, but I have a feeling she’ll cope.
“Ugh, do you think I was born yesterday?” Vanessa sneers. “Give me ssome credit. I let him charm me to gather intel on the hunters. His family is sstaying at The Ravenna.”
The scheming wheels start turning in my mind. “We could use that.”
“My point exactly,” Vanessa says. “And I even know how. Daddy’s making me the event planner for my cousin’s quinceañera next week. ‘Cause, you know, Elmwick is so boring that you never need more than a week to plan an event.”
“Stick to the point, Vanessa,” Jean interjects.
Vanessa silences her with a look and says cheerfully, “Might I propose we host it at The Ravenna? I’m inviting you of course, among other legacies, and handsome Zach will be my escort, keeping him out of the way.”
“So we can search their place!” I crush her into a hug.
Vanessa pushes me off her gently. “I forget you’re new to my genius.”
Her weird expression does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm. “Color me impressed! This is exactly what I need to get rid of the man in the trench coat. We’ll find proof, real human-approved proof that he killed my mother, and he’ll be out of Elmwick faster than his horrid plans can unravel.”
“The man in the trench coat?”
“Who killed your mother?”
Vanessa and Charity blurt their sentences over each other.
“Oh, yes, about that...” I rub my chin. “I should probably tell you what I saw at my Claiming.”
Chapter 22. Mason
SUMMONING THE HASTINGS to town has worked a little too well as my cover. I get invited to stay after Andreev’s drills, and I’m asked to join the weekly meetings in the church. Not to mention that Zach drags me with him everywhere, which means I have to wear my double agent mask constantly.
Suspension (Elmwick Academy Book 2) Page 14