And then, I hit.
My lungs burned like I’d been underwater. I tried to move, but my body was numb. I had the odd sensation of floating down a sluggish stream. Everything was warm and quiet. Then, sounds drifted through my brain.
At first, they were indecipherable, muffled. But gradually, the sounds became voices wafting around me; a meaningless jumble. I knew I needed to come back from wherever I was. The ground was hard beneath me. My head ached. My back stung.
I squeezed my eyes tightly, then opened them. Immediately I regretted it. I groaned as my brain beat against my skull. Blurring colors refocused around me, and I realized that I was lying on my back on the cold concrete.
‘Ouch.’
It wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say, but it was the best I could manage. My throat was as scratchy as sandpaper, and I could almost see the little dancing birds circling my head like they did in cartoons. I tried to sit up but felt a pair of hands pushing me back.
‘Don’t try to move, son.’
I squinted through the pain. Someone was kneeling over; his head was bent close as he examined me. It was the same man who’d been running the Ferris wheel; the one Josephine had called Karl.
Josephine.
I pushed myself up, shoving his hands away. ‘Josephine,’ I said through clenched teeth. ‘Is she all right?’
Karl stared at me. ‘How in hellfire…’
I shoved my hair out of my eyes and looked past him, searching for Josephine, but the only thing in my vision was the Ferris wheel; a monstrous skeleton against a graveyard of starry sky. My heart pounded as I remembered just how closely she’d come to toppling over the safety bar and plunging to the ground.
Instead, it had been me.
Suddenly, I went cold all over.
What had just happened?
Karl’s hands were on my back, pressing and prodding. ‘No broken bones,’ the old man muttered softly. ‘I don’t understand it, Quentin.’
The man from the party leaned over me. Dark hair framed his perfect face, and his lips were pressed into a firm line. ‘How did you survive that?’ he demanded.
‘I…I don’t really remember much,’ I said, rubbing my shoulder.
He knelt down, pressing his face closer. ‘I saw you fall from the car. You landed flat on your back.’
My stomach clenched. ‘I don’t…’
‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Quentin, give the boy some air,’ ordered Karl.
He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, then rose. I placed my fingers gingerly against the back of my head. I groaned, and Karl was examining me again.
‘You’re getting an impressive knot back there, but you seem to be fine, otherwise,’ he said. I could hear the disbelief in his voice. ‘You’re one lucky kid.’
I tried moving around a bit. Karl was right. I seemed to be in one piece. Quentin kept staring at me, his piercing gaze traveling from my face to my gray hair and back again. I reached self-consciously for my hood and shrugged it on.
‘Where’s Josephine?’ I asked again. ‘Is she okay?’
It was Quentin who answered. ‘She’s fine. I sent her inside.’
‘But she’s all right?’
Karl patted my arm. ‘Perfectly okay. She wanted to stay out here until you came back around, but I told her you’d be all right. She was pretty shaken up after we got her off the wheel, and I thought it best she go on inside to her parents.’
‘That’s good,’ I replied, testing the lump on my skull. ‘What about her necklace?’
Karl shook his head, chuckling. ‘Also safe and sound, thanks to you. Now, I recommend you go home and take it easy. And see a doctor if you begin feeling dizzy or nauseous.’ I must have looked at him funny. He frowned. ‘I’m the troupe’s personal trainer, son, and I’ve got medical training. I know what I’m talking about.’ I rolled my shoulders and the pain eased, but my head was still swimming. Karl scratched his beard. I could tell he was a little unhinged, but he was covering it up with a cool demeanor. ‘Have you eaten at all today?’ he asked.
I tilted my head at the strange question. ‘A few times.’
‘Well, you should probably find a ride home. You’re in no condition to drive.’
‘I can’t. I drove a bunch of people here.’
‘I’m sure they can find other ways home,’ Quentin interjected.
I stared at him dully. Something about the guy felt wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
‘Sebastian!’ Katie came barreling out of nowhere. ‘I just saw Josie. She said you hit your head. Are you okay?’
I pushed myself up, and Karl helped me the rest of the way to my feet. I looked at Katie, bewildered. Why had Josephine only told her I’d hit my head? Everything was a little hazy, but I was pretty sure I’d done a lot more than that.
Quentin touched Katie’s arm. ‘Your friend’s fine,’ he said in his smooth, movie narrator tone. ‘But I’m going to take him home.’
I jerked in surprise. ‘There’s no…’
‘Oh, but he drove us here,’ Katie said, interrupting me.
Quentin smiled. ‘I’m sure one of you could drive his car.’
Her head bobbed. ‘Oh, sure, of course! Sebastian, we’ll get your van back to your house, don’t worry.’
I stumbled forward. ‘That’s really not necessary…’
Katie darted around Quentin and caught my arm, steadying me. ‘Please let Quentin take you home. You look terrible.’
‘Thanks.’
‘No, I’m serious, Sebastian. You look…ashen. Like death or something.’
‘Wow,’ I said, smirking groggily. ‘That’s even more encouraging.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Katie replied, ‘but you definitely need to go.’
‘She’s right,’ agreed Karl. ‘Let Quentin drive you.’
Though I didn’t like the idea of movie guy taking me home, it didn’t look as if I had much choice. Plus, a few curious partygoers had arrived on the scene, and I felt anxious to get away before I brought more unwanted attention on myself.
‘Okay,’ I said, reluctantly.
Katie held out her hand, and I fished my keys from my pocket. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ she asked.
‘Go back to the party, Katie,’ Quentin replied, speaking for me. ‘Josephine would hate it if you left.’ He flashed a smile that showed off perfect teeth, white against his dark skin. ‘I’ll make sure your friend gets home, don’t worry.’
Katie stared at Quentin, a giddy expression on her face. She was always a goner for any guy who was remotely handsome. But when she looked back at me, she was all serious again. ‘You’re sure you’re okay, Sebastian?’
I forced a smile. ‘Yeah, Katie, I’m totally fine. Go have fun. It’s a party, remember?’
‘Okay,’ she said, relieved. ‘I’ll come by and see you in a little while.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll probably just take some aspirin and pass out. My head’s killing me. But I’ll see you at school, okay?’
She squeezed my hand. ‘If you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘See you tomorrow, then.’ She hugged me gently and sprinted away.
‘I’ll pull my car around,’ said Quentin. ‘Stay here with Karl.’ He swiftly disappeared around one of the pavilions.
‘Put some ice on that head of yours, son,’ said Karl, ‘it’ll help with the swelling.’ He stroked his beard again. ‘That was some fall,’ he muttered, almost to himself.
I nodded absently. I wasn’t thinking about my fall anymore. I was thinking about what had happened just before it. The dandelion pendant; the weird sensation; the shock of touching it. Had Josephine felt the same thing, or was I going crazy?
A black SUV pulled up. Quentin let down the window and motioned for me to get in. Karl reached for the door.
‘Take care of yourself, son,’ he said.
I climbed into the seat and turned to say goodbye to the
gray-headed trainer. As I did, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of emerald eyes peering around the corner of one of the pavilions.
Quentin eased the SUV out of the lot and down a small side road I hadn’t noticed before. It dumped out onto the main drive heading into town. I curled up against the window, resting my head in the crook of my arm. I imagined Josephine in the middle of her party, opening presents and enrapturing her audience with bright smiles and musical laughter. I could see her dandelion pendant dangling from her neck. My wrist was still throbbing, though only faintly now. I held it gingerly between my thumb and forefinger.
Quentin asked for directions. I gave him, in as few words as possible, the quickest route to the Gypsy Ink. I thought I saw him stiffen at the mention of the shop, but my head felt so thick that I could have imagined the whole thing. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed. When we arrived, I fully expected Quentin just to let me out at the door. Instead, he parked the SUV and got out.
‘So, you live here,’ he said as I joined him outside.
‘Yeah, my brother has an apartment around back.’
He studied the building. ‘Interesting.’
I got a sickening jab in my gut as I brushed past him. Something definitely wasn’t right about the guy. The shop’s neon lights were too bright, and I shielded my eyes from the glare as I pushed open the front door. Inside the Gypsy Ink, the guys were lounging on the sofas, listening to music. Vincent was the first to speak.
‘Hey, man, what are you doing home so early?’
Hugo’s brows lowered suddenly. ‘Are you okay?’
‘He’s fine.’
All eyes went to Quentin, who had followed me into the shop. I felt something shift and tense in the atmosphere. Hugo rose slowly. The others followed suit. Everything went deathly still. I swayed a little on my feet, wondering when the music had stopped.
‘What happened?’ My brother asked evenly.
I was getting more strange vibes, and I put a hand to my forehead.
‘He had a little accident at the Circe tonight,’ Quentin replied in an equally even tone. ‘We thought he needed to come home, so I drove him. One of his friends is taking care of his car.’
The two eyed each other for several seconds.
‘Thanks for bringing him back.’ Hugo replied, finally.
‘No problem.’ Quentin wore a strange thin-lipped smile. ‘Though you should keep a better leash on your stray.’ I glanced up sharply. His dark eyes shifted to me. ‘Have a good night, Sebastian,’ he said smoothly. ‘Sorry you had to miss the party.’
I heard the bells jingle as Quentin left, but the room was spinning too much. I reached for the couch, but I was falling. James caught me in his massive arms before my face smacked the floor. I blinked, but he refused to come into focus.
‘Don’t feel well.’ My voice sounded slurred.
Hugo was leaning over me. ‘Sebastian, what happened?’ he demanded.
I felt heavy with sleep. ‘Fell,’ I murmured. ‘From the Ferris wheel.’
I didn’t see Hugo’s reaction. Everything dimmed, and I was out like a light.
8. Fight or Flight
A knock at the door sent me sprawling. I hit the floor, crouched on all fours. Fuzzy red dots blinked above me. When they shifted into focus, I realized I was staring at my alarm clock. I staggered to my feet and flung open the door. Hugo was leaning against the wall.
‘Late for school,’ I grumbled.
‘I let you sleep in,’ he replied.
He let me sleep in? I was usually out the door before Hugo ever woke up. My brother looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept at all.
‘Made you some breakfast,’ he added.
Was I dreaming? In what world did Hugo Corsi ever get up before me and have breakfast on the table?
‘Shower first,’ I said with a yawn, running a hand through my matted hair.
Hugo grunted. ‘Probably a good idea.’
I stumbled to the bathroom, stripping down as I went. The scalding water coaxed the stiffness from my shoulders, but it didn’t eradicate the churning in my gut. What exactly happened to me last night? I left puddles on the tiled floor as I dried off, and I scrubbed my slate colored hair. I touched the base of my skull hesitantly, expecting to find a huge knot, but there was nothing.
‘Huh?’ I said out loud.
‘Come on, Sebastian,’ yelled my brother from the kitchen. ‘Food’s getting cold!’
I threw on some clothes and hurried through the apartment. Kris, Vincent, and James were there, along with James’s wife, Genella. I’d always liked Genella. She was smart and funny, and had bleached blonde hair with black tips that flipped out in every direction. When she saw me, she rushed over, jewelry clanking.
‘Oh, God, Sebastian!’ she said, taking my face between her hands. She studied me with wide eyes but thankfully didn’t mention my hair. ‘Are you okay? James told me about your accident last night.’
‘I’m fine,’ I replied, smiling sheepishly and blushing at her attentions. ‘Just took a little fall.’
‘Yeah,’ said Kris. ‘From the freaking Ferris wheel.’
The image of Josephine careening over the side of the car flashed before me. ‘Well, everything’s still a little fuzzy,’ I said, slipping out of Genella’s grasp and plopping down at the table. Maybe the ride hadn’t started yet. Maybe I’d just imagined falling all that way. ‘Some guy named Karl checked me out. I think he was a doctor or something. He said I’d be okay.’
‘And are you?’ asked Hugo.
The room was heavy and eerily quiet. ‘Well, yeah,’ I said, pondering how many times I’d been asked that question over the last few days. ‘Actually, I feel great. Must not have been as bad as I thought.’
Everyone looked at Hugo again. He handed me a plate of sausage and biscuits. ‘You could skip school today, if you’re not up to it. It’s not like you’ll miss that much, right?’
‘Yeah, just my government test and a vocabulary quiz. No big deal.’ I quickly stuffed a piece of sausage in my mouth as Hugo looked at me sharply. ‘But seriously, Hugo, I’m good. We’ve got our first rehearsal for the play today, and I kind of need to be there.’
James dropped the frying pan into the sink. ‘Whoa, you got a part?’
‘Could you maybe try and not look so shocked?’
He chuckled into his beard and turned on the faucet. ‘Sorry.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Kris, raising his fork in a salute.
Vincent clapped me on the back. ‘Told you so.’
‘Yeah, I guess you did,’ I admitted. ‘And, actually, I think being in the play might be fun.’
Hugo gave me the look-over. ‘You sure you’re feeling okay?’
I grinned. ‘I’m sure.’
‘All right, then,’ he replied. ‘Guess you’d better eat your breakfast.’
Both subjects were dropped as we helped ourselves to the heaping mound of eggs James had arranged on a plate. Hugo sipped on his coffee and read an issue of Rolling Stone. As I ate, I caught a glimpse of my tattoo poking out from under my sleeve. The skin was still a little red, but it didn’t hurt at all. It was as if everything that had happened was just some weird dream. Then a thought occurred to me.
‘Hugo?’
He flipped a page in his magazine. ‘Yeah?’
‘How do you know Quentin Marks?’ My brother glanced up. ‘Last night, when you guys were talking, I don’t know, it was like you knew him.’
‘We’ve known him a long time.’
The emphasis on ‘we’ wasn’t lost on me. After giving me the tattoo, Hugo had insisted that I was part of the clan. But I wasn’t, really. After all, I wasn’t blood. I was just a…
Stray.
Quentin’s voice echoed in my head. It was an odd choice of words. ‘This is crazy,’ I said, choosing to ignore the Quentin connection for the moment. ‘I mean, it’s like you’ve got this whole secret world going on.’
‘Well, it just never came up, Sebastian.’
My brother leaned back in his chair. ‘We keep to ourselves. Most Outcast clans do.’
‘So what does that mean, exactly?’ I asked. ‘The Outcast thing. Did your family get kicked out of the elite Gypsy clique or something?’
Hugo seemed to ponder his answer. ‘The Corsis were part of a particular old tribe of Roma in Europe. We call them the Old Clans. Anyway, a few centuries ago, some…disagreements broke out. Our family was one of several clans that chose to break away from the tribe. We wanted to make new lives for ourselves, develop new traditions. Some Outcasts settled in small towns like this. Others decided to be more nomadic.’
‘You mean like the Romanys.’
‘They’re a pretty big clan,’ he replied, his tone casual. ‘And one of the oldest.’
I pushed my plate away, digesting this. Josephine was definitely a Gypsy. I supposed I’d already figured it out the moment I’d made the connection between her and my image. Josephine’s dandelion necklace still glimmered in my mind. It hadn’t felt like a coincidence when she showed it to me, and Hugo had said lots of clans used the flower as a symbol. ‘So, the Romanys are the same type of Gypsies as the Corsis? Outcasts?’
‘Yeah. All the clans that broke away were given that label.’
‘But you don’t get along with them.’
Hugo’s lips drew into a tight line. ‘The Romanys and the Corsis haven’t always seen eye-to-eye over traditions and junk like that, but I wouldn’t say I have a problem with them, necessarily.’
I traced my tattoo with my finger, a little overwhelmed. In the space of a few days, I’d learned that, not only was I living with a clan of Gypsies, but the girl I’d just met was one, too. ‘How many clans actually live here?’
‘Just ours. But others, like the Romanys, pass through. This town’s considered a Haven, a place where Outcast Gypsies can meet or do business. We’re the only ones who’ve made it a permanent home.’
‘Wow,’ I said, ‘talk about feeling out of the loop.’
My foster brother stood and dumped his coffee in the sink. ‘It doesn’t matter now. You’re one of us, Sebastian. I wouldn’t have given you that tat if you weren’t.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘Well, I’ve got to get to the shop. Got an early client coming in.’
Grey (The Romany Outcasts Series, Book 1) Page 8