Raven (A Creepy Hollow Story Book 2)

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Raven (A Creepy Hollow Story Book 2) Page 7

by Rachel Morgan


  “Bastard,” Flint muttered.

  “Yeah. I mean, I try not to use words like that, but that’s exactly what he is. He’d made all kinds of promises to Daisy, some of which he’d begun making to me too, and he clearly had no intention of keeping any of them since he was still chasing after that French girl! And though we should have been angry with Orson for his despicable behavior—and we were—Daisy and I also ended up angry with each another. Jealous, I suppose. We couldn’t get past it, and we ended up not speaking for weeks. Then Orson decided to put off his work plans for a year and go traveling. With him gone, it was easier for Daisy and me to patch up our friendship. I thought things might get tense again with him being back home, but I think everything’s okay.” She let out a long sigh. “Anyway. Sorry. You probably didn’t want to know all that.”

  “I asked,” Flint said. “So yeah, I wanted to know. And I’m sorry. I’m glad you found out what type of person he is before things got too far.” He looked down at the bright lights of the vehicles whizzing along the streets far below. “Where are we, exactly?”

  Raven shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve been here a few times with my father when he needed to meet with people. I can’t remember why I came with. It was long ago, so maybe he and I had been on an outing together and then he received notice of an unexpected meeting.”

  “He has dealings with humans?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Or maybe he was meeting faeries outside of the magic realm, for some reason.” She hesitated, then shook her head slowly. “I don’t even really know what my father does. How odd is that? Surely I should know and understand more? He has plenty of wealth, and he takes care of other people’s wealth, and he somehow … builds more wealth.”

  “Don’t ask me,” Flint said when she looked at him. “I haven’t a clue what your dad does.”

  Raven’s gaze traveled across the cityscape again. “Were you judging us last night?” she asked quietly. “I mean, all that unnecessary opulence on display. Did you think it was all a waste?”

  “I—well—I’ve certainly never attended an event like that before.” He rubbed the back of neck, and she knew he wasn’t saying everything on his mind. “It’s just a different world, that’s all. It gave me a lot to think about.”

  Raven nodded. “I was thinking a lot about it too.” She paused, then added, “Do you ever wonder if we would have ended up friends if we’d met some other way, through day-to-day life?”

  Flint’s expression turned thoughtful. “I hope so. But I’m not sure how we would have met. We don’t exactly move in the same circles.”

  “True. I often think I might prefer your circles to my circles.”

  “You might.” He nudged her and grinned. “Although life isn’t quite as easy when you’re traveling in my circles.”

  “Hey, things aren’t always easy in my circles either.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, fine, so things are probably easier in my circles than in yours, but there are definitely things that suck.”

  “True. That black spiky delicacy you made me sample last night was indeed ghastly.”

  Raven laughed and smacked his arm. “Don’t say ghastly. You sound like my mother.”

  His smile turned roguish. “That might have been my intention.”

  They watched the nighttime city buzz continue for a while, until Raven’s mother sent a message to ask if she’d gone somewhere after college. They headed back through the faerie paths after that.

  When dinner was done, Raven sat at her desk and sent a message to Daisy to check if she was doing okay after their unpleasant encounter with Orson on the stairs outside Delph. Then she started piecing together the blueish grey leaves for the rest of the snake dress. When she grew tired of that, she pulled the sprite-wing dress out of her closet and got to work repairing parts of it. She’d take it back to college in the morning.

  When her eyelids began to droop, she gathered up her all work and sent it, with a few swift waves of her hand, into the closet where her mother wouldn’t see it if she poked her nose in here. That should be good enough. She didn’t have the energy to tidy up properly.

  A brief trill sounded from her amber. She flopped onto her bed and picked it up, hoping to find a reply from Daisy. Instead the glowing words on the amber’s surface were written in someone else’s handwriting. With her heart picking up speed, Raven read through the message three more times before jumping off her bed and heading for the door. She threw it open, calling for Flint at the same time. A figure at the other end of the passage turned, but it wasn’t Flint.

  “Miss Rosewood?” Rex said. “Is everything all right?”

  “Um, yes, I just wanted to ask Flint something. Is he around?”

  “No, his shift ended about half an hour ago. He went home.”

  “Oh, okay.” She used to be familiar with Flint’s schedule, but the whole bodyguard thing had changed that. “Thank you. I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”

  She stepped back into her room and shut her door, chewing her lip as she considered what to do next. Her mother would flip out if she discovered Raven was gone from the house at night without permission. But she rarely checked on Raven after dinner, so the chances were slim she’d come up here tonight.

  Raven quickly changed out of her pajamas, bunched her duvet around a few scatter cushions arranged in the shape of a sleeping body, and clicked her fingers to extinguish her lamp. Then, in the near darkness, she wrote a spell for the faerie paths on her wall and walked into the black opening.

  Chapter Nine

  Alarm crossed Flint’s face the moment he discovered Raven outside his door. “Is something wrong?” he asked immediately, standing straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

  “No, I’m fine. And you don’t need to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Stand like that. Like you’re about to salute me or something. Just chill. You’re not on duty. I’m here to show you something, that’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  An awkward moment passed between them before Raven said, “So … can I come in? I mean, unless you’re about to go to bed or something. I can just show you quickly and then I’ll—”

  “No, no, it’s fine. Sorry. Come in.” He stood back so she could walk past him into the cosy living room. The smell of something chocolatey greeted her. “What do you want to show me?” He waited for her to take a seat on the nearest couch before sitting beside her.

  “I received a strange message on my amber, and I wanted to show you because …” Now that she thought about, she wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to show Flint in particular. She could have taken the message to her parents, or to any one of the guards. They could easily have passed it on to the Guild for her. “Well, I just wanted to show you,” she finished quickly. “Remember that scrap of paper I found on the runway? The one that made that woman come after me? I think the handwriting in this amber message was the same as the writing on that paper.”

  A frown creased Flint’s brow. “Okay.”

  Raven removed a notebook from her pocket, opened it, and handed it to Flint.

  “You don’t have the original on your amber? So I can see the handwriting?”

  “No. My amber doesn’t keep messages, so I wrote it down.” She frowned. “Does yours?”

  “No, but I think the latest ambers do. I just assumed you’d … never mind. Where’s this message?”

  “You assumed I’d have one because I have the latest of everything?” Raven asked.

  Flint’s silence was answer enough as he flipped quickly through the pages.

  “It was on the right page when I handed it to you.” She took the notebook, turned to the correct page, and pushed it at him. She knew she had no right to be indignant about his comment—after all, her parents generally did buy her the latest of everything—but his assumption jabbed at her nonetheless. She crossed her arms as Flint read the message. She probably could have recited it to him, but it seemed t
oo odd to say the words out loud.

  Now that you’ve come so close to death, do you want to make the most of the rest of your life? You never know when it might end …

  “When it might end?” Flint said. “‘It’ being your life?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what it sounds like, right? I mean, it’s a bit creepy.”

  “It’s very creepy. Who else did you show this message to?”

  “Um, no one yet. I came here first.” Which suddenly felt like a silly idea when they were talking about a possible threat to her life. She probably should have gone straight to her parents or to their head of security. “But it might actually be nothing,” she added. “It could be one of my classmates playing a prank.” She could think of at least one person who might want to do that.

  “But if it was a classmate who wrote this message, that means it was a classmate who wrote on that scrap of paper you picked up, and therefore a classmate who was involved with the explosion.”

  Raven paused. “True.”

  “Which would mean it probably isn’t a prank.”

  “Unless I’m wrong about the handwriting.”

  Flint leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Well how similar did it look?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I think it was the same. The oversized loops on some of the letters looked the same.”

  “Okay. I’ll definitely tell the Guild about this. And it looks like your parents probably weren’t overreacting with this whole bodyguard idea.” He straightened. “Hang on. Did someone accompany you here?”

  “Uh, not exactly.”

  “Raven, you’re not supposed to—”

  “Please don’t. You’re coming very close to sounding exactly like my parents. And what is …” She sniffed the air. “What is that burning smell?”

  “Oh, crap. The hot chocolate.” Flint jumped up and headed for a door on the other side of the room. “Uh, I was making hot chocolate for Tora before you got here. She’s up late studying for a test, and Mom isn’t around to tell her to go to sleep.” He turned in the doorway to face her. “Would you like some?”

  “Um, yes, thank you. Can I help?”

  “No, it’s fine.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Flint, who are you talking to?” came a shout from upstairs. Moments later, dragon shaped slippers appeared at the top of the stairs and began moving downward. “Oh.” Flint’s sister stopped when she saw Raven. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” Raven said, giving her a small wave and trying not to feel awkward. “It’s Tora, right?”

  “Yeah.” Tora skipped down the remaining stairs, almost tripping over her giant slippers at the same time. “Oops.” She walked across the living room toward Raven, shouting, “How’s that hot chocolate coming?”

  “Starting again,” Flint shouted back. “I kinda burned the first lot.”

  “Weird,” Tora said, sitting on the couch across the table from Raven. “He’s normally great with cooking spells. Could it be that he messed up because you’re here?” she added with a sly grin.

  “I—uh—what?”

  Tora laughed and shook her head. “I hope he’s making you some too. His hot chocolate is really great.”

  “So, um, you’re studying for a test?” Raven asked, saying the first thing that came to mind as she attempted to regain her composure.

  “Yes. The use of transformation magic in defense.”

  “Oh, are you a guardian too?”

  Tora nodded. “Well, I’m a trainee. I’m in my second year.”

  Raven tucked her legs beneath her and hugged one of the cushions against her chest. “So you and Flint, and your dad …” She paused for a moment, hesitant to speak about a father who had passed away. “Is it a family thing? Is your mom a guardian too?”

  “Oh, goodness, no. I can’t image that.” Tora pushed one hand through her hair. “She’s a healer. Sometimes she works night shifts, which is why she isn’t here tonight.”

  “Okay. Does she work at the Guild’s healing institute?”

  “No, she’s at that little place on the edge of Creepy Hollow. Old and kinda rundown. They get a lot of Undergrounders there, so if you’re a faerie and you’re sick, you’d probably go somewhere else.”

  Raven nodded, not wanting to admit she’d never heard of that particular healing center, or that her parents would never visit a place like that. It made her feel uncomfortable in the same way Flint’s assumption about her owning the best of everything made her uncomfortable. “Tora,” she said, scooting forward a little on the couch. “Does Flint … does he think that I’m … I’m a spoiled brat?”

  Tora’s eyes widened in surprise, but her laugh soon caught up. “I don’t think so. I know all the things he does think of you, and ‘spoiled brat’ doesn’t seem to fit in there.”

  It was Raven’s turn to be surprised. “He’s spoken about me?”

  “Of course. In the beginning he was so bored with his new job that he told us about anything remotely interesting that ever happened. ‘A goblin climbed over the wall this morning,’ or ‘Mrs Rosewood tripped on her way out of the house,’ or ‘I almost tied up this pretty girl because I thought she was an intruder,’ or—” Tora paused with her mouth open, her cheeks growing slowly pinker. “But—um—you should probably pretend I never said any of those things, since Flint would kill me if he knew.”

  “If I knew what?” Flint asked, walking back into the room while carefully directing three mugs through the air in front of him.

  “Nothing,” Tora said, far too quickly.

  He lowered the mugs to the coffee table before fixing Tora with a frown. “What did you tell Raven?”

  Raven spoke up before Tora could implicate herself further. “Nothing important.” She smiled sweetly. “Only good things.” Like the fact that he’d told his family she was pretty.

  “Good things that would make me want to kill Tora if I knew about them?” Flint asked. “Now that I definitely don’t believe.”

  “She told me you make amazing hot chocolate, so I’m looking forward to finding out if that’s true.” Raven placed the cushion she’d been hugging on her lap and held her hands out for a mug, hoping Flint would be happy with the change of subject. He sighed, then picked up a mug and passed it to her. “Oh, what is that?” she exclaimed in delight as a cloud of gold dust that smelled like cinnamon rose from the top of the chocolate liquid and coalesced into a miniature unicorn. It danced across the top of her drink before diving into the liquid with the tiniest of splashes and disappearing. “That’s amazing. How did you do that?”

  A self-satisfied smile spread across his face as he sat beside her. “I have my secret spells.”

  “And wait till you taste it,” Tora added. “You’ll love it.”

  “Thank you, Tora,” Flint said, his tone a bit sterner now, “but you should either be studying or sleeping.”

  “But I wanted to ask Raven about fashion school.”

  “You’ll have to ask her another time.”

  “Ooh, you’ll be visiting again?” Tora asked Raven.

  “Um, I … I hope so.” She cast a questioning glance at Flint, but he was taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

  “Fine, okay, we can talk next time.” Tora reached for her mug and headed for the stairs with it.

  “I like her,” Raven said quietly.

  Flint rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Anyway, do you like it?” He motioned to the mug in her hands.

  She brought it to her lips and took a sip. It was so rich and delectable she almost melted into the couch. Instead, she nodded. “Absolutely. Tora was right. I think you need to teach Aunty Sweetpea this recipe.”

  He shook his head. “This one’s my secret.”

  Raven drank again, a larger sip this time, before lowering the mug. “What does your guard duty consist of now when you aren’t with me? Do you patrol the house?

  “I patrol the inside of the house—I’m not stationed outside anymore—and remain alert for po
tential damsel-in-distress screams.”

  Raven rolled her eyes. “That must get so boring.”

  “Fortunately it’s a large and interesting house.”

  She leaned back and wrapped both hands around the mug. “Seriously, though. You probably want to lose your mind from the monotony of walking around the same place all the time.”

  “Is that what Tora told you?”

  “Stop worrying about whatever Tora told me. She didn’t need to say a word for me to figure out that your job is boring.”

  “It isn’t too bad.”

  Raven gave him a knowing look. “Now that’s a lie.”

  “Look, it isn’t all that bad. In fact, it recently got far more interesting when I was assigned as personal bodyguard to my employers’ daughter instead of the garden or the entrance or the wall.”

  “While I find that very flattering—” she batted her eyelashes at him “—don’t you miss working at a Guild?”

  “I …” His gaze fell away from hers. “I do.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I needed a break. Well, the Guild decided I needed a break.”

  “What happened?”

  Flint settled back in his chair. “I was undercover for almost a year, very involved with a few members of the Unseelie Court. Centuries old, some of them, dealing in ancient spells, dark magic, and … other things. I was probably far too young and inexperienced for so lengthy and dangerous an assignment, but circumstances at the time led to me being the right person for the job. In the end, after the whole operation went south, I wound up in the healing wing for almost a week. After that, the Guild suggested I take a break for a while. Do something different for a few years. That’s how I ended up in private security, since I still wanted to protect people, of course.”

  Raven sat for several moments trying to figure out what to say. “That’s … wow. I’m so glad you survived.”

 

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