"I need to talk to your brother."
Concealed by the cloak, he remained hidden from the sorceress's view. For if she has known of the beast within the cavernous shadows she would never have left her most precious Thaylina alone the evening she went into town. Once the sorceress was out of sight, the wolf emerged. Licking his sharp teeth, he looked up at the girl standing in the tower's window.
It only takes me forty-five minutes to find my way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Everyone else chose to sleep in. On my way back, my phone beeps.
When I accept the call, I'm startled by an older woman with narrowed eyes and dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. I move the phone away, not wanting her to be that close to me even if she's only on a screen.
"Lana Peri, I'm Mrs. Seyer, your dorm monitor." Before I can say anything in return, she continues, "You have a guest waiting for you in the administration building. Don't keep him waiting."
Then she's gone. Guest?
Must be Niall.
I stop myself from spinning around and getting completely disoriented. I'm facing the girls' dorm. The administration building is directly behind me. So I carefully pivot to face it. Now ... to get there from here. I weave in and out of corridors of hedges and several gardens, 'round a pond and through the birch forest, finally reaching the wisteria tunnel. I'm pretty fricken proud of myself by the time I enter.
And run right into Brendan exiting a door next to the entrance.
"Hi," I gasp, his hands holding my upper arms to stabilize me.
"Can't resist, can you?" He grins lazily, his cockiness emanating like pheromones.
"Lana?" I look over his shoulder to find Niall standing within the same doorway. Brendan releases me. "You know each other?"
"Unfortunately," I say as Brendan says, "Definitely."
Niall looks between us. "Watch out for each other. Okay?"
"My pleasure," Brendan replies, then winks at me before disappearing into the Court.
"Brendan's your client too? Is there anyone here you don't represent?"
Niall ignores my comment. "Parker wanted to say goodbye before he left, but I think it's best that we meet privately. How are you adjusting?"
I look around the foyer. But Parker's already gone.
"It's only been two days." I enter the room to find it filled with brightly colored Baroque furniture and a crystal chandelier centered above a high-gloss violet coffee table. A window overlooks the Court, filling the room with natural light.
"Yes, but you and I both know that a lot can happen in one day, so how were your two?"
If I didn't know better, I would think he was messing with me. But when I turn to him, there isn't a hint of playfulness on his face or in his eyes. Perhaps he honestly thinks the world can burn down around me in twenty-four hours. Sadly, it can.
"They were fine." I sit in the chartreuse chaise by the window.
"You begin classes tomorrow, correct?"
"So I was told, although I don't know what classes I'm taking. But I'm used to not being told things until they're actually happening."
He picks up on my jab. "There was no reason to inform you where you were going before we arrived because it wouldn't have mattered. I could have given you a name of any school in any surrounding state, and you'd still be attending regardless if you knew the name and location or not."
"You're such a lawyer," I shoot at him like an insult.
"So I've been told."
"But this isn't just any school, is it, Niall?" I ask fervently. "There are so many more expectations here than any state program I could have attended. They demand effort, and not just any effort, but exceptional results. So what happens if I can't live up to what all of you want me to be? Do I go back to juvie? What do I lose if I don't become my best fucking self? Huh?"
"Two years." His voice is stone.
"What?" I'm stilled by his words, my body rigid with shock.
"You'll lose two years if you fail out of this school. It was the judge's condition to your enrollment."
"I thought it was a six-month sentence in juvie that you requested to be served here?"
"No, we go back in six months with a progress report. And if you aren't engaging, then you'll go to the juvenile detention center or a state run reformatory until you're eighteen."
If I weren't sitting, I would have collapsed.
"Armed robbery is a serious crime, and they want you to cooperate with them. In absence of your cooperation, the judge made a decision he believed to be in your best interest. And this was the result. We're fortunate to have this opportunity, trust me. So please take it seriously."
I close my eyes to gather myself. "Trust me. I am."
"I brought your personal possessions that were taken from you after your arrest." Niall places a large, white plastic bag on the coffee table. "And your mother asked me to give you this." He sets a pink box the size of a grapefruit on the table. It's wrapped in a thick sheer raspberry ribbon, tied in a perfect bow.
"Thank you," I say, barely audible. I feel like I've been punched in the gut, and I haven't been able to draw in enough air to find my voice. Or to even breathe properly.
Two years.
There isn't a trust fund to threaten me with, so they chose the only they could ... my freedom.
"Do I have any chance of going home?" I'm still worried about my mother, no matter what she says. She's a masterful liar. She guards her pain in her heart, until her body betrays her. So the only way I'll know how she really is, is to see her for myself.
"For visits, yes. But not for a while. I've offered to bring your mother with me when I come up."
"Can I see my friends, or even talk to them?"
"That'll be determined by the school. I'm not going to interfere with their program. You're here for a reason."
I whip around. "And why's that? Because I covered for someone who could destroy my friends' lives?"
Niall's face doesn't betray his emotion, but his eyes do. Sympathy reflects back in them, which only angers me. I don't want his sympathy. I want him to clear me, to get me back home.
"Do you want to tell me who he is?"
I grind my teeth together. Rage boils up inside of me, filling my eyes with tears. I don't know how to release it, fighting the urge to punch something.
My silence is my answer. And his is mine.
"I spoke with Dr. Kendall, and she's agreed to lift your probationary period this summer. Typically, new students aren't allowed to leave campus unsupervised for the first sixty days. But she's agreed to allow you off-campus access, as long as you keep up with your school assignments, don't miss curfew, and are accompanied by one of my sons."
"Why do I have to be with one of your sons?"
"Because both the school and I trust them. And I thought you did as well. Was I wrong to assume that?"
"Why did you tell Brendan and me to watch out for each other?" I ask to avoid answering, because I don't fully trust anyone, forget about the Harrison brothers.
"I only meant that since you obviously know each other, and have both been through a lot, it might be good knowing someone is looking out for you." Niall studies me, a worried line creasing his forehead. "Am I reading all of this incorrectly? I'm trying to do what's best for you, Lana, so if there's something I'm missing, let me know."
I can't argue with him. He knows more than I do about Brendan, his sons, and why he requested that I be sent to this specific school. Maybe it's as simple as the fact that Niall already visits regularly to see his sons, and other clients, so this is his default school for all the dysfunctional teens he represents. Or ... it's for a reason I don't understand yet.
"You have no idea what's best for me."
"Maybe someday, you'll see it differently," he replies solemnly. "I have to go, but call me if you need anything. You should hear from your mother tomorrow."
I don't look at him when he leaves, focused out the window, watching a butterfly flutter around the fragrant tunnel.
r /> When I finally turn around, Brendan is seated on one of the wingback chairs, watching me.
"You realize that your creep factor only escalates the longer I know you, right?"
"I like going unnoticed, until I want the attention."
I shake my head at his confusing statement. "Whatever." I swing my legs over to sit up. "What do you want, Brendan?"
"I believe we can help each other." He steeples his fingers with his elbows balanced on the arms of the chair, like a devious mastermind. When I don't respond, he continues, "I may be able to help you clear your name and get you out of here, if that's what you really want."
"In exchange for?" I ask, knowing there's more.
"Information."
"What kind of information?"
"Any that I ask for."
"Yeah, right," I scoff, standing to walk out of the room.
"You'll need me if Allie dies."
My heart misses a beat at just the thought. "They don't have a suspect." I start toward the door.
"They're going to find the witness."
I spin around before I reach for the doorknob. "The girl?"
"Yes. They're getting a lot of pressure from Allie's parents."
"What do they know?" I ask, panic settling in my gut.
Brendan raises an eyebrow, taunting me.
"I won't betray anyone."
The corner of his mouth quirks. "You continue to surprise me."
"Why?"
"At first I thought it was defiance that kept you from cooperating. Self-preservation. But then you say it was to protect your friends. And I didn't expect that. But I get it. Now, you'd rather be convicted of another crime you didn't commit, for what? Because you don't want to betray someone you hardly know?"
How can he possibly know that what happened to Allie could affect Parker? I want to ask, but he may mean something else entirely. He has a tendency to speak in riddles, a trait he shares with Ashton. No wonder they're friends.
"How can I possibly have information you want?"
"What I'm really asking for, Lana, is for you to answer the questions I ask, without avoiding them. There's something I've been trying to figure out for a long time, and now that I know more about you, I have a feeling you may have some of the answers I need."
"You're so confusing!" I exclaim in frustration. "You want straight answers out of me, but nothing you say makes any sense! At least with Ashton, I can blame the drugs, but with you ... what are you talking about?"
Brendan shakes his head as if in warning, holding his school phone in his hand. I shoot him a questioning look.
A knock on the door turns our heads. The older woman from my phone pushes the door open without waiting for a response. She's taller than I expected. I thought she'd be a petite, frail woman, but she's tall and intimidating in her simple gray dress and severe bun. Not someone I'd be dumb enough to accept apples from, that's for sure.
"The shuttle is here to take you to work," she announces. I check my phone, surprised by the time. Luckily I don't need to get anything from my dorm room. I pick up the bag Niall left on the coffee table, and slide the gift inside.
"Thanks," I say to her, but she's already gone. Brendan stands and we walk out of the room together. But then he continues across the foyer alongside me. "Where are you going?"
"To work," he tells me like I should know this.
The thought of Brendan working is confounding. He's too pristine and manicured--I doubt he's performed a day of physical labor in his life.
I'm surprised to see people waiting in the administration office when we pass it. Then I remember the rest of the summer students arrive today.
The driveway is busy with moving vans and dark sedans slowly driving along the gravel drive that encircles the campus toward the dorms. The shuttle idles in front of the main entrance, waiting for us. Brendan and I are the only ones on it.
"What did you want to tell me?" I ask him as soon as we drive past the gates. Brendan holds up his finger, taking his phone out of his pocket. He gestures for me to hand mine to him as well. I surrender it, baffled by his paranoia. He sets them on the front seat of the shuttle and then walks to the back to sit in the last row. I follow.
"Explain," I demand.
In a hushed tone, Brendan says, "It's their phone. Their service. With their tracking device. You don't think they can turn on the microphone or camera whenever they want?"
"They can do that?" I ask in shock.
"I have."
I gawk at him.
"Have you learned nothing in the two days you've known me?"
I close my eyes and shake my head, disturbed by every new thing Brendan reveals. But what's even more messed up is how open he is about it. And, as he said, it's only been two days! Maybe he's not afraid how much I know because I won't say anything. Bastard.
"Explain how Niall's your lawyer," Brendan asks.
"I know his sons." I reluctantly concede to the questioning, but only until he asks too much.
"How?"
"We see Parker out at some of the same places we do back home. And I just met Joey ... that night. Why am I telling you this?"
"Did you ask who's paying for you to go to Blackwood?"
"No. It didn't come up." Honestly, it wasn't a priority when I spoke with Niall. I was more concerned about why I was sent here at all.
"You need to ask him," he insists, obviously frustrated by my lack of knowledge or concern. But he's not exactly helping clarify why I should care either. "How else do you know Niall?"
"What are you talking about? I don't ..." But then I realize my mother knew him before I did.
"Tell me."
"No. Not until you explain why you're asking so many questions. What do you think I can help you figure out?"
"Who killed my mother."
I stare at him. His dark eyes don't waiver. His lips don't quirk. There's a gravity to his tone. He's serious.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "You think Niall had something to do with her death?"
"He knows who did."
Thaylina saw the man in the dark green cloak peering up at her from the bottom of the tower, and her heart leapt at the sight of him.
"Are you going to let me up?" he called to her.
The girl raced down the steps to unlock the door, disregarding the sorceress's instruction to not let anyone in.
"I knew you would," the man said, following her to the top of the tower.
The shuttle comes to a stop. I tear my eyes away from Brendan's and look out the window. We're already here. The ride was way too short today.
"We'll talk later." Brendan stands and moves swiftly down the aisle, picking up his phone before exiting the shuttle.
It takes me a minute to force my legs under me. I practically fall as I stumble down the steps. I'm being suffocated by secrets. And most aren't even mine.
"Lana, you'll be training with Kaely today at The Grille," Cary tells me when I clock in at the computer. "You know the correct uniform for The Grille, right?"
"Yes," I reply absently, walking in a daze to the locker room. I am so lost in the haze of half-truths, I don't register there's a body standing in front of me until I bump right into it. "Sorry."
My eyes connect with Grant's sky blue ones. He's holding my elbow to balance me, a look of concern on his face. "Lana? You alright?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just ... thinking."
"And that makes walking difficult?" he teases.
I shake out of my daze and offer a weak smile. "Evidently."
"Where are you working today?"
"The Grille."
"That's too bad. I'm at the Ninth Bar with Stefan. Save me a seat at staff meal?"
"Uh, sure," I reply, my brain slowly deciphering what he said.
Grant continues past me, glancing back once as I stand like an idiot, staring after him. My brain seriously can't handle any of this today.
I need a minute to process everything. Everything other than Grant. I can't se
em to function around him at all, so I'm not going to waste my thoughts on what the hell that all meant. I need to figure out why Niall's so evasive about how he knows my mother. Why he's been representing me for years for free without me realizing it. And who's paying for my tuition to Blackwood, since Brendan is obviously hung up on that one.
Which brings me to Brendan, who is also represented by Niall. And he's fixated on these details more than I am. Why does he care so much? And truthfully, why should I? The answers to these questions won't clear my name and make sure Vic gets what's coming to him--without involving my friends. That should be my priority. The rest of this is just an unnecessary distraction.
Except ... I can't stop thinking about the bomb Brendan dropped on me on the shuttle, that someone killed his mother. And Niall may know who.
Maybe I should talk to him, just once.
"Did you forget your combination?"
I startle.
"Oh no. I'm just out of it this morning." I realize I've been standing in front of my locker, staring, when Kaely walks up beside me.
"Ashton?" she asks, as if that's the only explanation needed. Guess everyone knows about her recreational habits.
"Actually, no." I realize she's already dressed in her uniform. "Sorry, I'll be fast. Meet you down there?"
"Sure." She smiles and walks out of the locker room, her thick, wavy auburn ponytail swaying behind her.
When I grab my Grille uniform out of the locker, a piece of paper flutters to the floor. The side that lands up is blank. I bend to pick it up and find written in red capital letters:
The lines are neat and precise as if they were drawn with a ruler. I don't know why my first instinct is to look around the locker room, but I do. Like the person who wrote it might be lurking in some corner, watching. But it's empty, until three girls enter, laughing and chatting. They separate to go to their lockers to change for this shift.
"You okay?" one asks from the locker a few down from mine.
"Yeah," I reply, shutting my locker. Before she can say anything else, I take my uniform into the dressing area to change.
First the message on the wall, now this. It has to be the same person. Someone who knows what happened? That's the only thing that makes sense. But then, who's him? I groan in frustration. Whoever's fucking with me is doing a shitty job with their threats because I don't know what the hell they mean! Be specific, Crazy!