Eternal Beloved

by Bella Abbott

  Eternal Beloved

  Bella Abbott

  Copyright ©2020 Bella Abbott

  All rights reserved

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Prologue

  Pain shot up my arms as the rope that encircled my wrists bit into my skin. I struggled against the bindings, straining with all my energy, but it was no good. I blinked away tears of frustration and fear. Terror threatened to choke me. My gaze settled on the moon, blood red in the midnight sky, barely visible through dark clouds. I tried to twist my head to the side to get a glimpse of where I was, but I couldn’t seem to move it.

  I was utterly helpless and alone. What was this place, and how had I gotten here? I tried to calm my racing thoughts. Concentrate. What can you feel? I was lying on a hard surface. Stone, it had to be. But why would I be lashed to…a table? Some kind of altar? And what was I wearing? A long gown of some sort…white satin…a wedding dress?

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. A cold wind stirred my hair, and I gritted my teeth and tried again to work my hands free of the tethers. My right wrist loosened just a hair, not much, but enough to give me hope. I redoubled my efforts, and then stopped when I heard the shuffle of feet nearby.

  A shadow fell across my face, and I squinted into the gloom at a dark silhouette. The figure regarded me with smoldering eyes, glowing embers that froze the breath in my throat. I tried to speak, to demand answers to the questions that flooded my mind, but all I managed was a hoarse rasp.

  The figure moved away and a ghostly white hand emerged from its robe, clutching something. I strained to make it out. A small cry escaped my throat when I saw the glint of an obsidian blade, both sides chipped to a razor edge, the point an evil spike that seemed to glow from within with a dark energy.

  I tried again to speak, to beg, to demand something, anything; but then the blade slowly rose over my chest. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t need to hear the hiss of the figure’s voice to understand the message.

  “Tonight you die.”

  Chapter 1

  I jolted awake. My body was covered in sweat, and my black concert T-shirt was clinging to me like a second skin. My hand automatically flew to the birthmark on my neck that always burned following the dream. I looked around, disoriented, and the nightmare’s intensity faded as I took in my surroundings. Rows of seats stretched forward along a narrow aisle, and the floor was vibrating beneath my feet. I blinked away my grogginess as I remembered that I was on a bus to Maine – and the boarding school I’d be attending as the first step in I hoped would be a new life.

  I groaned and shifted in my seat. Nightmares had been a regular ordeal for as long as I could remember. This was a persistent one that had taken on a kind of familiarity with time. It rarely varied. Sometimes I got more or less detail, and it didn’t always end in the same place, but it always resulted in me waking with my guts in a knot.

  The bus bounced again and I looked through the window at the landscape rushing by. Very much like Pennsylvania and the small town where I’d grown up – verdant, green, lush, the colors so vivid they seemed painted.

  I sighed. It had been a minor miracle I’d finally broken free of the place, and I again silently thanked my stepmom for first putting the brochure into my hand. Ridley Academy’s acceptance of me with a full academic scholarship had been a gift from heaven, and I planned to make the most of it and never look back.

  My eyes drifted to my scuffed Doc Martens then up my stovepipe black jeans before settling on my purse. I removed a brush and pulled it through my auburn hair, careful to ensure the left side covered my birthmark – not exactly my best feature, but I’d gotten pretty good at concealing it with careful styling. I inspected my reflection on my cell phone screen and checked the time. The final leg of a five-hundred-mile bus trip that had begun that morning would have me at the school campus in a little less than two more hours.

  I was dreading one part of my arrival. Meeting a host of new people and having to socialize, at least enough so nobody thought I was too weird, was going to be stressful. Sure, I could hide a blotch on my neck behind some hair, and nobody could tell by looking at me that I felt uncomfortable in crowds, but I sucked at small talk. You can’t win, with small talk – if you say the wrong thing, people judge you; but then if you say nothing at all, they judge you for that. As for saying the right thing? It obviously came easy to some people, but I wasn’t one of them. The thought of trying to fit in with a group I’d have nothing in common with made my stomach churn. Classes I figured I could handle just fine. Roommates? Ugh.

  Lavender and cobalt streaked the darkening sky by the time the bus arrived at Ridley. It rolled to a stop at the station, which was barely larger than a convenience store. I shouldered my backpack and hopped down the stairs and watched as an ancient baggage handler rolled a cart to the cargo hold and removed my lone suitcase – I was the only passenger who’d disembarked.

  I approached the clerk at the curb counter, who took my luggage tag. “How far’s Ridley Academy?” I asked.

  “Oh, a fair ways,” he said, in a heavy northeastern accent.

  “Can I walk it?”

  He looked me up and down. “Suppose so. Maybe a half mile up the road on your right. But better to take a cab.” He paused. “Got your ID? Need to see it for the bag.”

  I fished in my purse and retrieved my driver’s license. The clerk held it up to the light. “Lacey Wilkes?”

  “The one and only.”

  He passed the suitcase to me and slid my ID back across the counter.

  A few minutes later, an ancient Ford Taurus coasted to the curb, and a thin man wearing a porkpie hat and a tan windbreaker peered at me from behind the steering wheel. “You need a cab?”

  “How much to Ridley?”

  “Prep or academy?”

  “Academy,” I said.

  The driver named a price that was half what I’d feared it would cost. He popped the trunk and waved to it.

  Isn’t the driver supposed to take your bag? Although he looked like he might have a heart attack if he tried. I hoisted the suitcase and dropped it beside a carton of tools and oilcans, and climbed into the car.

  He pulled away from the curb and in a few moments was headed down a street lined with quaint shops and two-story houses that reminded me of home. “Is this the main drag?” I asked.

  “Sort of. There’s another street that crosses it back a ways, with a couple of bars and restaurants and a few overpriced coffee shops. You kids sure love your coffee. Especially if it costs five bucks.”

  “Not me,” I said, mentally calculating how far my meager budget would go at that price. I’d worked like a dog at two jobs all year, but still had barely enough to cover the dorm fees.

  Each time I glanced up, I
caught him checking me out in the rearview mirror. About the fifth time it happened, I held the eye contact, challenging him. Perv! I’m your customer!

  He had the grace to blush and look away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude. I was just thinking, you don’t look much like a juvenile delinquent.”

  “Uh…thanks?” I guess? Was that supposed to be a compliment? “I’m not, for the record.”

  “Oh, I just, you know. Wondered. That school. Isn’t it for…” He seemed to think better of finishing his thought.

  OK, fair enough. I’d wondered the same thing at first. “Well, there’s two parts. There’s Ridley Prep – that’s a boarding high school. I guess just like a regular prep school?” Whatever a “regular prep school” might be like. I wouldn’t know. “Then there’s the academy. That’s for people like, well, like me, I guess. Who finished high school, but didn’t learn anything practical. The academy has a bunch of different courses. Some prepare you for university, some directly for a job.”

  “Oh, yeah? Which are you doing? What are you studying?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m going to see how things go. But I’ll be studying coding after I knock off some prerequisites.”

  “Coding? Secret codes?”

  “No, like…well, like coding. For computers.” Didn’t everybody know what coding was?

  “Better you than me. I never was much one for math.”

  “I’m actually not good at math either, or at least I don’t like it. But coding isn’t math. It’s…I guess it’s more like a language. How you talk to computers, and how they talk to each other.”

  That fascinating explanation didn’t interest him at all, and before I’d even finished, he was staring at the road again. See? I sucked at small talk. Computers I could talk to. People? Some days I wasn’t sure I’d ever really learn their language.

  The street narrowed to two winding lanes framed by towering trees. The light was going out of the western sky when the driver skidded to the shoulder and turned to me. “Thar she blows,” he said, pointing to a pair of brick columns supporting an open iron gate.

  Was I supposed to tip him? It wasn’t exactly a formal taxi, but he had called it a cab. I had no idea, but I was too embarrassed to ask. I paid him and added all the change I had in my pocket, about two dollars, worried both it was too much and too little. That’s me – able to get a situation wrong in either direction. Then I gathered my bag, and the car executed a U-turn and headed back to town.

  I signed in with a guard seated by the main gate, and then made my way up the long drive to what was obviously the main administrative building, beyond which stretched some structures that might have been classrooms or something. I stared at it for a long moment, feeling very small and completely alone in the world, unsure of what to do next. I suppose most students would have settled in with the help of their parents, who would have traveled with them and helped them unpack and then gone out for lunch. I’d gotten a ten-hour bus ride and a nighttime arrival with nobody around. What if there wasn’t anybody there at this hour?

  I knocked on the heavy wood door, and an intercom crackled to life. “Yes?” a female voice demanded.

  I depressed the only button by the speaker. “I’m…my name’s Lacey Wilkes. I just got to town. I’m a new student?” I said, cringing at the uncertainty in my tone.

  “Wilkes…Wilkes…just a moment,” the voice answered. A pause ensued. “Ah, here you are. I’ll be out in a moment. Don’t go anywhere.” Like there was anywhere to go.

  Several minutes later the door swung wide and a mousy woman in her fifties with spectacles perched on the tip of her nose smiled humorlessly at me. “Welcome to Ridley Academy. We’ve been expecting you, although it’s somewhat irregular to show up this late.”

  “I took the bus. Sorry. It’s been a pretty long trip.”

  The woman waved my explanation away. “That’s what I’m here for. I’m Mrs. Coates – one of the admissions staff. We’re working overtime this week to accommodate the new arrivals.” She stepped back to allow me to enter the foyer. “Come in. My office is to the right. We’ll get you processed as quickly as possible so you can get settled into your room, and deal with the admissions paperwork tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.”

  She guided me to a small office, where she printed several forms for me to sign before giving me a temporary ID card and a paperback-sized rule book. “Carry your ID at all times. You’ll need it to access the dorms and the grounds.”

  I slipped the documents into my purse while Mrs. Coates stood and reached for an oversized key ring that hung from a peg. I followed her lead and lugged my suitcase as I struggled to keep up. Apparently she wasn’t the ‘here, let me help you with that’ sort either. Maybe it’s a Maine thing? Fine by me. I’d made it this far on my own. She marched like a drill sergeant, her sensible heels clicking on the polished stone floor.

  Once outside, she escorted me down a path paved with flagstones to a three-story brick building across a broad field from the office. Most of the windows were glowing with light.

  She pushed through the dormitory door, led me up a flight of stairs to the second-floor landing, and pointed down the hall. “You’re in room 2G, with three other young ladies. Four per room. This dorm is for the academy girls. Mind you, you’ve got much the same rules as Prep. But more leeway in coming and going. There’s a section in the handbook that specifically covers those sorts of rules.”

  I swallowed nervously at the thought of meeting three strangers. I was told once that I come off as distant and standoffish, and that had been at a party. Now after ten hours of travel, I wasn’t exactly feeling very sociable.

  She escorted me past open doors, where music and the sound of televisions drifted from the rooms. I forced myself to smile at the curious faces that looked up, and did my best to ignore the anxiety tightening my throat.

  We arrived at a closed door, and Mrs. Coates rapped on it three times with the edge of the key ring. A voice called out from inside.

  “Come in.”

  Mrs. Coates pushed the door open. A young woman with a caramel complexion and a short, no-nonsense haircut looked up from where she was sitting at a small round table, two thick textbooks in front of her, both open. Her forehead creased at the sight of the administrator, but then relaxed when she spotted me behind her. Mrs. Coates gestured to me.

  “Serena, this is your last roommate, Lacey Wilkes. Lacey, this is Serena Gonzalez, one of the most promising students at Ridley. Also here on scholarship.” Oh, great. Was she going to announce my scholarship status every time she introduced me?

  Serena pushed back from the table and stood with her hand out. I shifted the suitcase from my right to my left and shook awkwardly. I never got shaking hands. It seemed to belong to making deals or meeting Japanese businessmen or something. Not that I knew what else to do. So fine, a handshake it was.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Serena replied with a shy smile.

  “Where are the others?” Mrs. Coates asked Serena.

  “They’ve been out all afternoon. I didn’t ask where,” Serena replied, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

  “Well, classes don’t start for another couple of days. I suppose it’s understandable if they make the most of the free time they have left,” Coates said, and moved to the door. “I’m sure Serena will show you the ropes, Lacey. You’re in good hands,” she assured me, and then left, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Serena rolled her eyes. “Long day?”

  I nodded. “You could say that. I started in Pennsylvania before daybreak.”

  Serena’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow. You must be beat.”

  “A little,” I conceded, looking around the room. The beds were nothing to write home about, nor were the furnishings. But then my gaze stopped at a poster above one of the beds, where a young man with high cheekbones, striking blue eyes, and an unruly haystack of chestnut hair stood staring into space on
a stadium stage. His shirt was open to the waist, exposing a physique that would have been the envy of a Greek god. The air suddenly felt heavy, the walls too close, and my heart skipped a beat at the way his luminescent turquoise eyes seemed to bore straight through me.

  Serena didn’t seem to notice my sudden discomfiture and pointed to the bed next to the one with the poster. “That’s yours. I’m over by the window. The one next to you is Sarah.” She frowned slightly. “If you let her, she’ll keep you up all night gabbing…assuming she even comes home. I’ve only been here a week with her, but she’s a partier.”

  I tore my eyes from the poster and nodded, having caught only every third word. “Oh, uh-huh.”

  Serena indicated the other bed. “And that’s Kate. She’s a little intense, but she’s sweet and she means well. She’s buds with Sarah – they’re both from New Jersey.”

  I pointed to the door at the far end of the room. “Is that a closet?”

  “Yes. We each have a quarter of it. And you have half of that dresser,” she said, tilting her head at a chest of drawers near another door. “There’s the bathroom. The shower sucks, by the way. Takes forever to get hot in the morning and the pressure is terrible.”

  A rustle from the closet drew my attention, and Serena’s face flushed as she moved to the door. “Oh, that’s Cyrus. He’s the token guy here,” she said, and opened it. A heavyset gray cat stared up at me from the depths of the closet and then walked stiff-legged into the room. I knelt, and Cyrus brushed against me with a purr. Serena smiled. “He’s a total ham.”

  I stroked the cat and he purred some more. “Is he yours?”

  She nodded. “We’re not allowed to have pets, actually, but I just couldn’t leave him at home. I’ve had him my entire life.” Her eyes grew worried. “You’re not allergic or anything, are you?”

  “Nope. And don’t worry, I won’t say a thing. I love animals.” I patted Cyrus’s flank. “Not missing any meals, is he?”

  “We spoil him rotten, and he’s–”