I grip the books in my hand tighter as I glance around, looking for the source of the sudden sensitivity flowing through me. No one stands out. The harder I scan, the stronger the sensation grows until I feel completely on edge. My muscles twitch all over. I shift forward and roll my head from one shoulder to the other, trying to alleviate the tension, but the closer I get to the huge picture windows, the stronger the feeling becomes.
Whatever it is, it’s outside and getting closer. I don’t feel threatened like I did with that Harper girl, but my body is amped and I can’t shake the feeling of strong familiarity. I move to the doors to look outside. Everyone appears to be going about their normal routine of hanging in groups and talking.
I hear it first, a car rumbling into the entrance of the school. It’s a Mustang, the same year as mine, except its black paint job shines.
Without thinking, I walk outside and watch the car with tinted windows pull up to the curb in front of the school.
Like me, everyone has turned to stare at the gleaming classic car.
When the door opens and a girl with long black hair stands up and turns to stare at me over the roof, my heart suddenly jerks with odd familiarity. She’s exotic looking, with olive skin and dark brown eyes that appear much older than her face, even though she can’t be more than a year or so older than me.
“Danielle,” I breathe out. As soon as I see her face, the name pops into my head, but the rest is a blank. I frown and move closer to the curb. Nara told me I’d been with a girl named Danielle for the past month. Why? Who is she to me?
“Hey, Ethan. Good as new, yes?” Her eyes gleam with pride as she slides her hand across the roof of the car like it’s precious glass. “Well, with an upgrade here or there.”
I shake my head, completely baffled.
“Come on,” she says, waving to the passenger side. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
Whoever she is, this girl has important answers I need. I don’t hesitate. I pull open the passenger door, but before I slide inside I scan the parking lot until I find Lainey leaning against a Jeep with Matt. I wave to get her attention, then call out, “Tell Nara I found a ride and I’ll call her later.”
Nara
Once Lainey let me know Ethan planned to wait for me, I linger in Mr. Gillespie’s class sorting through project paperwork as long as possible. But my attempt to delay facing Ethan’s intense magnetism gets cut short when she sends me another text twenty minutes later.
Lainey: You need to get outside ASAP!
Me: Coming.
As I hurry down the hall, I wonder how long I’ll be able to stay away from Ethan. His comment about how much he enjoyed our kiss in the car this morning only reminded me how little sleep I got the night before. I tossed and turned all night, thinking about the very same thing. The attraction between us is so strong, the thought of never touching him again makes it hard to take a deep breath; all I seem to manage around him are short, choppy ones. Ugh, wouldn’t that be pretty if I hyperventilated and passed out? The last thing I need is to confirm that his plan to wear me down is working.
He did have a valid question yesterday though. What if he never gets his full memory back? Will I be able to forgive him for lying to me about something he can’t even remember? Can I trust that he’d tell me if his memory does return? What if he thought the truth might destroy us? My instincts say he’d tell me if he remembered, especially since there’s more than our relationship on the line; our lives are at risk. Then again, maybe that’s my heart overriding my ego.
My pulse races as I approach the entrance. Ethan’s out there waiting to drown me with his piercing stare and strong presence. As much as I plan to maintain our “friendship” status, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy being the recipient of such fierce attention. I crave it like a junkie. Every time he brushes close, the brief connection sends indescribable tingles shooting from my head to my toes. I have welts inside my cheeks from biting them to remind myself to move away.
I know Ethan. He won’t give up on this mission. And truly, I don’t want him to because it means no one else is on his mind. Taking a breath, I step outside into the brisk air and immediately slam into Drystan.
“’ello,” he says, hazel eyes bearing down on me.
“Oh, hey. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to run into you,” I say as I quickly scan the empty courtyard for Ethan. “Have you seen Lainey? She sent me a text.”
Lainey steps beside Drystan, Matt right behind her. “I’m here. Hey, um…who the heck is Danielle?”
“Danielle?” I squeak the name out. I haven’t mentioned anything about Ethan’s time away to her so I’m shocked to hear the name.
“Yeah.” Drystan thumbs back over his shoulder. “The hot girl Ethan just drove off wi—ooouf.”
Lainey turns from elbowing Drystan in the side. “I’ve never seen her before, but Sophia told me she heard Ethan say the name Danielle before he left with her.”
Of course Sophia would make sure to share this juicy bit of information with Lainey. She’d always enjoyed taking jabs at me, on and off the soccer field.
“She drove up in a shiny black ’69 Mustang with tinted windows,” Matt offers, as if that might jog my memory.
“Tinted?” I vaguely respond. Could Danielle have been the one who sent that slew of mechanics to work on Ethan’s car? I’d assumed his parents had. The fact that she’d changed the car’s original look sets me on edge. I grind my teeth as my mind whirls. Who is she? How can she afford a team of mechanics? What had Ethan been doing with her for a whole month? My stomach churns. I haven’t even met this girl and I hate her already.
“Nara? Are you okay?” Lainey asks, concern in her tone.
I lock gazes with her. “Did your dad find out that information yet? I really need it, please. She might be connected.”
Understanding dawns and Lainey touches my shoulder. “You think this girl is the one Ethan talked to while he was gone? The one from his phone? Who is she?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Can you ask your dad again?”
She bobs her head. “Absolutely. For what it’s worth, Ethan asked me to tell you he caught a ride and will call you later.”
As the thought He’d better! flits through my mind, Drystan throws his arm across my shoulders. “Don’t worry about her. She’s no Nara.”
“You just said she’s hot,” I grumble.
He shrugs. “So. Lots of girls are hot. But hot isn’t the whole package.”
The thought of Ethan with this Danielle person still knots my stomach, but I force a smile, appreciating his effort to try to make me feel better. “Thanks for the ego boost.”
He hooks his arm tighter around my neck. “You can return the favor any time you want.”
“Are you kidding me?” I poke him in the ribs and pull out of his hold. “You can hardly fit through a doorway as it is with all the girls here inflating your head on a daily basis. ‘Oh, Drystan, I can listen to you read a phone book. Say something sexy, Drystan.’” I mimic things I’ve heard them say.
A cocky grin rides his face. “I love America!”
Snorting at Drystan, Lainey rubs her arms and stomps her feet, then glances up at the puffy clouds. “Looks like more snow might be on the way. We’re going to go for some coffee. Want to come?”
The alternative is I’ll go home and have more time alone to worry about Ethan spending time with this hot girl. My chest aches. Has seeing her brought his memories back? Ugh, I don’t know if I want him to remember everything if it pertains to the same girl who’d answered his cell phone and casually told me he was in the shower like it was no big deal. Like hell it isn’t a big deal, especially now that I know she’s not his cousin! A distraction is definitely what I need to keep me from inventing all kinds of horrible scenarios in my head. At least until Ethan calls me later.
“Sure. But I can’t stay long. If we really are getting more snow, I have to get the leaves in the yard cleared up or Mo
m’s going to kill me.”
The leaf blower’s shrill high-pitched noise helps drown out my worried thoughts of Ethan that returned the moment I pulled in the driveway. As I push all the leaves into a tall pile in the yard, Houdini bounds around the stack barking and pouncing on it.
I snicker, letting him have his fun. In a couple of days I’ll have to take him back to the shelter to be fixed; it’s a rule at the Charlottesville Animal Shelter where I volunteer—any animals adopted from CVAS must be sterilized to help prevent the constant cycle of animals being born without homes. Because I’d fostered Houdini, he’d temporarily avoided the procedure, but now that I’ve officially adopted him, he’s getting it done. While I watch Houdini romp, I realize he’s about to undo all my hard work. “Okay enough, boy.”
When he pounces onto the mound once more, I shake my head and put him inside the house, then grab several black bags, some gloves, and a rake.
Now that the blower’s grating noise isn’t invading my mind, I scrape the rake hard against the dead grass, hoping to create another noisy distraction, but it’s not loud enough and my thoughts quickly return to Ethan. What is he doing right now? How long will it be before he calls me? What are they doing? No, don’t go there, Nara! So far I’ve miraculously managed not to glance at my phone every five seconds, even though I wanted to the whole time we were at the coffee shop.
I wince at the pressure of the wooden handle against my hand, but shrug off the pain and continue on. Ethan’s sword has left a raised scar across my palm that’s sensitive to any kind of pressure. Maybe over time it’ll toughen up. While I rake loose leaves, several birds settle on the ground just beyond the main leaf pile, their fluttering and sleek black feathers catching my attention. I wave to them before transferring the mound of leaves into several trash bags. I’m sad that Patch isn’t among the birds like he was at the sanctuary. He still hasn’t shown back up at my window yet. He might be unpredictable and make a mess at times, but I really miss that crazy bird.
By the time I finish the leaves, I’m tired enough that my brain doesn’t automatically switch back to Ethan. I’d just tied the last bag closed when someone speaks behind me.
“I see you finally got around to using your blower.”
I glance at the older man standing on the sidewalk. “Hi, Mr. Wicklow.” Wind ruffles his gray hair while his hands are tucked in his wool overcoat pockets. His formal English accent makes me think of drawing rooms and afternoon tea. My lips tug into a self-deprecating smirk as I sweep my hand toward the frozen ground. “And I only waited until it’s about ready to snow again to do so.”
He laughs, his salt and pepper goatee stretching with his smile. As his amusement settles, his gaze sweeps the yard behind me. “I’ve never seen so many birds hanging out so calmly before.”
I take in the hoard scattered across my entire lawn and realize it probably does look strange. Even more had gathered while I worked. I’ve gotten so used to them being around, I find their presence oddly comforting, especially when Ethan isn’t with me.
“They usually scatter at the first sign of anyone coming near,” he says, stepping off the sidewalk onto the grass as if to prove his point.
Instead of taking off, several of them flap their wings and let out low raaaaaackkkks, then hop a bit closer. A few more birds join in the chorus just before Patch swoops down to land right next to my feet.
Even I recognize this as odd behavior, so I don’t express my excitement to see Patch or call his name. “They probably like the sound of the rake,” I say and scrape its thin tines across the grass several times with rapid movements.
His gaze strays from the birds to me before he clears his throat and takes a step back onto the sidewalk. “This kind of closeness isn’t common for ravens. I should know. I’ve studied them.”
I pause and turn his way. “You study ravens?”
He smiles and rocks on his heels. “I shadowed the Ravenmaster at the Tower for a week when I was a young boy. Got to see his every day interaction with them. They’re incredibly smart, resourceful birds.”
My fingers grip the rake’s handle and I return my gaze to the leaves to hide my excitement. “I think ravens are fascinating. I’d love to hear what you learned.”
“You should come for tea some time, since that’s the order of things.”
My heart skips several beats. He didn’t actually say it like “The Order,” yet I can’t keep my gaze from snapping back to his blue one. “The order of things?”
“Yes,” he nods, smiling as he slides his hands into his pockets once more. “It’s how we Brits converse…over tea.”
“Ahhh.” My shoulders slump slightly. He didn’t mean anything more by his comment, which is probably for the best.
“Any time you’re ready, I’ll be happy to discuss ravens and their purpose in our world.”
“Ravens’ purpose?”
His attention shifts to my shoulders briefly, understanding in his gaze. “Has it changed yet?”
Is he asking about the feather? I work hard to keep a neutral expression. There’s no way he could know about the one on my shoulder blade. Unlike Ethan’s, my feather hasn’t changed. It’s still just a white feather. My fingers grip the handle and my stomach clenches. “Has what changed?”
“It’s okay, Nara. I don’t mean you harm.” He strokes his goatee and smiles gently. “It’s the Order’s mission to get to know Corvus. To be there when they need us.”
The Order’s mission?
My pulse whooshes hard. I hadn’t misunderstood him. What are Corvus? What is the purpose of the Order? Am I Corvus and don’t know it? Why is my feather white? Why hasn’t it changed like Ethan’s did? I want so badly to ask all these questions and more, but I don’t want to expose myself or Ethan. Enemies seem to be springing from every corner lately. Fate had told me to ask the Order if I wanted to learn more about Corvus, but then Fate hates me. Did Fate encourage me to seek out the Order for answers to set me up? How has this man found me? What if the Order is a group of hunters, and the moment I admit to knowing anything about the Corvus he’ll attack me?
Patch has made several agitated sounds since he landed. The racket draws my attention. The fact that he’s just now shown up after being mostly absent makes me wary. He’s protected me before, and even though the bird’s not attacking Mr. Wicklow, he’s also not sitting idly by. If he got any closer, he’d be on top of my shoe. Better to err on the side of caution.
I shake my head in fast jerks. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wicklow. I’m confused by what you’re saying. Are we still talking about ravens?”
He holds his hands up and smiles, taking a step back onto the sidewalk. “My apologies, Nara. I can see you’re not ready to talk yet,” he says in a calm tone as if he’s trying to gentle a spooked horse. “You know where I live. If and when you’re ready, do come for tea. We have a lot to discuss.”
Chapter Twelve
Nara
“That’s her,” Lainey whispers in my ear as I’m pulling books from my locker the next morning. “What the hell? Is this girl attending our school now?”
It’s hard, but I don’t whip around. Instead I slowly close the metal door and lock my gaze with Lainey’s narrowed one. “Please tell me your dad came up with a name for me.”
Lainey continues to check out the girl over my shoulder, while at the same time typing in a message on her phone. “My dad got home late last night and didn’t give me this until the morning. It seems like a dead end, since it’s some guy.”
I stare at the name William Gaston that pops up in the text from Lainey. His name seems familiar somehow. Tucking my phone away, I casually slide my gaze in the girl’s direction, whose midnight black hair flows halfway down her back. She’s wearing tight jeans, tall brown boots, and a matching buttery-soft cropped leather jacket. And several guys in the hall are nudging their friends and staring at her. Even Matt and Drystan have stopped talking and noticed her.
I take in her shapely figure, th
en shift my gaze to her strong profile of high cheekbones, full lips, and chocolate-brown eyes. I want to strangle her when she smiles and makes bold eye contact with several guys before walking off. It’s the kind of smile that says, “I’ll probably ignore you, but you can try if you want.”
As her swinging hips sets a few football players shuffling, bumping, and nudging each other down the hall to be the first one to open the door for her, I press my notebook tight against my chest and try to suppress my anger. There’s nothing shy, innocent, or otherwise cousin-like about her. And this is the girl who spent at least one night very late with Ethan?
The fact that all I got last night was a voice mail from him saying he was sorry he’d missed me and we’d talk tomorrow at school—he’d called after I’d finally fallen asleep—didn’t help. Where had they gone yesterday? His message had been short and to the point. It was hard to tell if he remembered anything after seeing her. I hadn’t seen him yet, but seeing Danielle only fueled my anger and amped my determination to get to the truth. All of it.
“I dislike her even more than Harper,” Lainey says, cutting an annoyed huff Matt’s way.
I’d intended to snort at her comment, but it comes out more like a snarl.
Lainey nods, a glint of sheer dislike in her eyes. “Good to know we’re on the same page. I’m suddenly very curious about this chick myself. Damn she looks way too mature to be walking these halls. She’s practically shooting laser pheromones with her eyes. Doesn’t that take like ’til you’re in your early twenties to perfect?” She gestures after the football team crowding through the doorway. “Apparently drool-stupid is the result. Hopefully you can get something out of that name I gave you.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
“You intend to what?” Ethan’s deep voice floats over my shoulder.
Lainey narrows her gaze and gives Ethan an “I’m watching you” hand signal before walking off. I snicker, but turn to him with a determined look. “What happened to calling me last night?”
Destiny, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #3) Page 12
