Seer

by Ashley Maker

  “What’s wrong?” Mathias asks, followed by the shuffling of footsteps. Laila whimpers, and his tone turns soft, comforting, but I can’t make out the words.

  “No, please stay,” she begs, voice thick with pain. “At least until Mom gets back.”

  “You’re a big girl. I’ll be back to check on you this afternoon.”

  Nails dig into my arm. I glance over, and the nurse shakes her head wordlessly and pulls me not so gently down the hall, back toward the reception counter. What sounds like a sob is the last thing I hear from Laila’s room before the nurse hauls me out of hearing distance altogether.

  The reception counter comes back into view, and the nurse pushes me toward it. Voice hushed, she says, “You need to go. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  I stagger when she pushes again, catching myself on the counter.

  “I’m sorry,” the nurse repeats, and sits down behind the counter again, like she’d never gotten up in the first place. The papers rustle when she picks them up.

  I lean against the laminate and start to protest, but Kade wraps an arm around my waist and tugs gently.

  “Come on,” he whispers, warm breath tickling my neck. “Let’s go. I’m sure you can come and visit later.”

  For a heartbeat, I think of waiting until Mathias shows up so I can demand to see Laila. But then I would have to see him, too, and that sounds about as fun as playing with live fire ants. Giving in to the gentle pressure from Kade’s arm, I let him guide the two of us back the way we came.

  At the main intersection, Kade drops his arm. Nothing is said until we’re out of earshot from the infirmary and away from prying eyes.

  “What happened?” Kade reaches for my hand.

  I scowl, the short burst of relief at leaving the infirmary overshadowed by the headmaster and his stupid words. “Oh, just more of Mathias thinking I’m out to get anyone and everyone.” Kade raises a brow, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough for a coherent explanation. “He still suspects me for what happened. Laila stood up for me, and that’s when he started talking about some really weird stuff. Like, he said he gave her an assignment, and he was talking about me, and that she wasn’t supposed to ‘get attached’ or some nonsense like that. What is that about?”

  Kade’s grip tightens, fingers pressing into my skin. “He’s probably talking about the mentorship. We’re not supposed to care about the mentees on a personal level.”

  “That’s…” So many words flicker through my head that picking just one to describe how ridiculous the situation is seems like a total waste. Finally, I say, “Absurd. It’s completely absurd. He can’t control everyone and how they feel about each other.”

  “Well, technically he can.”

  “What, with his mind-altering voodoo powers?”

  His lips quirk. “No, nothing like that.”

  “Then how?” I jerk my hand out of his and stop walking. “What can he actually do if someone breaks his precious rules? Lecture them to death?”

  “Be careful asking that,” Kade warns.

  Tension seizes my neck and shoulders. I shake my head, unable to get rid of the tightness. “I’m sick of being careful what I ask. This is my life. I get that I’m stuck here, but can you really expect me to be okay with some stupid middle-aged man dictating my relationships?”

  I search his eyes, waiting for an answer. So much hinges on him agreeing with me, because if he doesn’t, what does that mean for us? Mathias could decide Kade isn’t supposed to “get attached” to me either. Or has that already happened, and that’s why Kade doesn’t want me going around asking questions?

  Kade touches my cheek. “You don’t have to be okay with it, but you do need to understand what he can do. He can separate people. Fire staff. Send students to other compounds.”

  With a frustrated huff, I roll my eyes. “He can get bent, that’s what he can do.”

  “I’m serious,” Kade says, but he smiles, and, oh, the things it does to my insides.

  Despite the festering irritation, my lips twitch with the effort of not smiling back. “We’re going to have to be careful, aren’t we?”

  It’s the closest either of us has come to labeling our relationship, but the fact that we’re one big secret has never been clearer. After all, we had to wait until we were in an empty hallway just to hold hands.

  He grips my waist. My hips bump into his when he pulls me close.

  “For now.” He leans in, warm breath tickling my lips.

  I’m edging onto tiptoes to meet him when he tenses. Lips hovering a mere inch above mine, Kade freezes, eyes going distant, head tilting slightly like he’s listening for something.

  “What’s—”

  He shoves away from me almost forcefully and runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide and darting to the end of the hallway. My heartbeat knocks hard against my chest. I have time to take another step back before a figure rounds the corner.

  Lips pursed in a hardened frown, Mathias strides purposefully toward us. After a quick once over, his unforgiving gaze locks onto mine.

  “You two,” he says, “come with me.”

  32

  The summer sun glares down, reflecting off the windows of the girl’s dorm, too bright after the infirmary’s florescent lighting. Mathias paces back and forth, inspecting the keypad panel, asking occasional questions, making me reenact the stabbing so he can then ask even more questions. I don’t know why he even bothers, since he obviously doesn’t believe a word I say. Biting my lip, I press a shaking hand to my temple and squint into the brightness, anything to keep from looking at all the dried blood still covering the grass.

  Kade points at the bottom of the peaked roofline. “What about the security footage? Did you get a good look at the guy?”

  Mathias cuts a glance to where a camera must be hidden. “The footage for all the cameras went offline right before the attack.”

  Kade’s eyebrows lift. “The system was hacked?”

  “As far as I can tell, yes.”

  “Was there anything on his person that could help?”

  “Not that he carried.” Mathias rubs the scar on his hand and scowls. “The lab results came back this morning. He wasn’t a Rogue.”

  My head jerks in surprise, and so does Kade’s. We both stare at Mathias, who turns his attention on me.

  “Did you happen to phase during the attack? See anything unusual about his eyes?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t phase at all.”

  “Convenient.” He swipes the scarred hand across his forehead. “Was there anything about him that stood out?”

  “He had an accent. Southern, I think.”

  “Hmm.” Mathias’ lips flatten. “That’s all you know about him?”

  I hold my hands palms-up. “It’s not like I had time to ask the guy his life story when he was coming at me with a knife. If your security is so good, how did he get in here in the first place?”

  Mathias regards me with a cold look. “We have rotational staff changes every summer for annual maintenance needs. From what I’ve gathered, the man had fake identification made that fooled our new staff admissions officer. Had he tried passing himself off as Tim Noble last summer, the man would have been caught, since a more experienced officer would have seen through the fake identification.”

  Like Laila did. No wonder she knew so quickly that something wasn’t right.

  Expression grim, Kade asks, “What happened to Tim?”

  “We’re trying to locate him, but the fact that we haven’t been able to thus far isn’t a good sign.”

  Kade’s jaw clenches. “Did you track the surveillance back to see whether the guy broke in or entered with passcodes?”

  They share a look.

  “He had all of them,” Mathias says darkly.

  Eyes glittering with emotion, Kade flinches and mutters a curse.

  “What’s so important about the passcodes?” I ask, nose wrinkling as I study the two of them. Bo
th are standing hunched with their shoulders curled in, staring at nothing in particular, at least not that I can tell.

  The skin bunches around Mathias’ eyes, framing a pained stare as his gaze sweeps up. “Tim worked at this compound for nearly ten years. I doubt he would have handed over the passcodes unless he was under extreme duress.”

  My gaze immediately falls on the bloody grass, and the hair lifts on my arms. I rub both hands over the prickling skin, swallowing against the sudden nausea pushing up my throat. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never met Tim Noble and have no idea the kind of person he is—or was? My heart aches for him anyway.

  “Perhaps you should go rest, Miss Palmer,” Mathias says, voice hinting at sympathy. “I have no further questions at this time.” He turns to Kade. “Until Laila’s recovered, I’ll need you to stay close and keep watch like you did in the infirmary.”

  Kade’s brow furrows. “What about dorm rules and curfew?”

  Even I know the rule he’s referring to, the one about boys leaving the girl’s dorm by 9:00 every night. No exceptions.

  “Disregard for now. There’s the possibility of another motive.” Mathias cuts a glance at me. “I’d prefer not to provide easy access, in case they decide to try again.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Very well. I expect an update if anything changes.” The headmaster turns and walks away down the path, leaving me to stare after him with mouth agape.

  Kade and I stare at each other.

  “Did he really just tell you to sleep over, like in the same room?” I ask, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

  “Yep.”

  I swallow and touch the hollow of my throat. “Is that normal around here?”

  “Not at all.”

  My stomach dips and flip-flops as we enter the dorm. This isn’t how I expected my first night in a room alone with a boy to happen. I mean, sure, he spent a few nights in the infirmary with me. But that was different. Nurses and doctors were in and out every few hours. We were constantly watched.

  This will be uninterrupted. Intimate in a way the infirmary wasn’t.

  With every step up the spiral staircase, I grow more and more nervous, even as another part of me practically weeps with relief that I don’t have to face the room alone. Going back without Laila feels wrong. And having the guy she used to like sleep over while she’s laid up in a hospital bed feels even worse. By the time Kade swings the door open, the warring emotions are as mixed up and nauseated as my stomach.

  Laila’s side of the room looks exactly as she left it. The bed is unmade, a half-read book resting on the duvet. A hairbrush and the pink lip gloss she always wears are on the desk, waiting for her to pick them up again. Those are the things I’ll take to her, if Mathias ever lets me visit. I should have remembered to ask him about that when I had the chance. Now I’ll have to wait even longer.

  Shrugging off the awkwardness of the situation, I start to walk into the room, but Kade grabs my arm.

  “Wait,” he says, eyes fixed on the other side of the room.

  My side.

  I follow the line of his gaze and gasp. The drawers under my bed have all been dumped out on top of the mattress. Clothes are everywhere. The pillow is no longer in its pillowcase. Pictures from the album I keep in the bottom drawer lay scattered on the bed and floor. And the snow globe…

  Yanking out of Kade’s grip, I rush forward and drop to the ground, knees scraping against wood. A cry escapes my lips as I reach for the shattered globe. Carefully, I pick the trinket up by the wooden base and hold it out to see the damage.

  Half the glass is gone, strewn all over the floor in tiny, glittering shards. The remaining fragments stick out of the base in jagged angles. None of the little buildings representing Saks Fifth Avenue are broken, but the water and floating snow are irretrievably lost. Covering my mouth with the other hand, I blink rapidly and inhale one shaky breath after another.

  “Why would someone do this?” I whisper, voice as broken as the glass.

  Kade sinks down next to me and gently removes the broken globe from my hand. After setting it on the floor, he pulls me into his arms. Chin resting on top of my hair, he says, “It’ll be okay. We might be able to get it fixed.”

  I nod, but I know he just said that to make me feel better. Some things can’t be fixed.

  Some things, once broken, are broken forever.

  33

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare at the photograph of Mom clutched in my hands. I remember taking it. She’d just come home from one of her freelance photography jobs. After plopping her camera bag down on the counter, she grabbed the chocolate chip ice cream out of the freezer, but she couldn’t find a spoon because I hadn’t done the dishes like she’d told me to.

  Instead of washing one, she snatched a large mixing spoon from the drawer and started eating the ice cream right out of the carton. She looked so funny sitting on the tabletop eating ice cream with a huge spoon that I grabbed the camera and started snapping pictures. In this one, she’s laughing with the mixing spoon held out in front of her face.

  This is the mom I remember, but the memories are starting to feel more faded than the photographs, and that terrifies me. What kind of a daughter am I to let go of the details—her details—so quickly?

  “You look a lot like her,” Kade says, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I say softly, staring hard at the picture, trying to re-etch every tiny detail of her face into my memory so I’ll never ever forget.

  Her eyes are soul-deep brown, instead of blue like mine. Cheekbones are a little higher. Hair more wavy than curly. But other than that, our features are almost identical. The same eye structure and barely-arched brows. Straight nose. A top lip that’s not quite able to decide whether it’s rounded or heart-shaped.

  One of the corners of the photograph got bent by whoever ransacked my stuff. I smooth it out with my thumb, but a crease remains. Figures. More gingerly than the task requires, I slide the photo back into an empty slot in the picture album. I hold it to my chest for a few seconds, the closest I can get to hugging Mom again, before putting it back under the clothes in the bottom drawer of the bed.

  I stand and run a hand down my chin, feeling restless in a way that makes my skin crawl. Everything’s put away, but I can’t stand looking at a single thing in the room anymore. Laila’s side reminds me of the stabbing. Mine reminds me of the broken snow globe and Mom.

  “I need to get out of here,” I say, fighting the urge to pace. “Go somewhere. Anywhere.”

  “Sure. I think I know a place.”

  I barely pay attention as Kade guides me out of the dorm into the afternoon sunshine, until I notice we’re heading toward a part of the compound I’ve never been to before. The cobblestone path ends, and the grounds become less manicured as he leads the way to a two-story log cabin almost out of sight from the rest of the compound buildings. Older in style and architecture than the more modern lodges, the cabin is rustic and beautiful with hand hewn logs, gray stone, and square pane windows.

  “What is this place?” I glance around for any sign of what the cabin is supposed to be. But I don’t see anything. The cabin has a closed-up, abandoned feel to it that makes me think of musty air and spiders and other crawling things.

  “This is the original lodge.” Kade leads the way around to the backside. “They converted it into a big storage unit after the new one was built. It’s off limits to everyone but staff, but no one really comes here anymore.”

  Well, except for him obviously.

  I can’t help asking, “So why are we here, then?”

  “Come on, and I’ll show you.” Kade grins, striding across the green grass.

  The cabin sits on the edge of a ridge overlooking a natural dip in the land that tapers into the forest. We descend a set of stone steps lined by huge boulders to a hidden lower level. At first, I think the hidden level is a third story, only to realize it’s the underside of a
huge balcony extending off the ground floor of the cabin. The balcony is boxed in underneath, supported by three gray stone walls. Square cutouts, like windows but without the glass, are spaced at intervals. In the very center is a beautiful stone archway.

  Pulse picking up, I follow him, peeking through the cutouts at the shadowed interior. Kade disappears through the archway, and I hesitate for only a second before hurrying after him.

  My foot snags, and I yelp, tripping over some broken-down, rusting lawn equipment littering the stone-paved floor.

  Kade grasps my arm. “Sorry. I should have warned you about that.”

  “It’s fine.” I clear my throat and smooth both palms over my jeans.

  More clutter—boxes, old furniture, equipment—is strewn across the large, open space. Guiding me by the hand, Kade picks his way around the untidy piles to the fireplace taking up the middle of the back wall. A couple of worn-out chairs are arranged around a small coffee table with an unlit lantern on top. Free of dust and grime, the furniture sticks out from the disordered mess of castoffs.

  “What is all this?” I stare at the wood shavings coating the top of the coffee table and surrounding floor.

  Kade runs a hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck. “I come here when I’m upset, or when I just need some time to myself.” Looking away, he ducks his head before meeting my gaze again.

  Something vulnerable shines in his eyes, touching a place inside my heart. He’s always so in control of his emotions that seeing him flustered takes me off guard. I stare at him a few seconds, mind blank.

  He reaches forward and touches my parted lips with his thumb, an adorable smile stretching across his face. “Say something.”

  My lips tingle. I smile and avert my gaze to the wood shavings again. “What do you do under here?”

  “You want to see?”

  “Yeah.” The tingly feeling spreads all the way to my fingertips.

  Kade approaches the fireplace and effortlessly lifts the massive mantelpiece off its braces.