Читать книгу Carrier of the Mark - Leigh Fallon, Leigh Fallon - Страница 7

got up the next morning with one intention: to prove to myself that Adam DeRís was nothing more than the usual seventeen-year-old guy. I was sure that seeing him again would break whatever spell he’d put on me. There was no way he could be as breathtaking as my memory painted him; my mind was playing tricks on me. As soon as I had that clear in my head, I would be able to start fresh. Perhaps I could even claw back a little bit of my dignity in the process.

And that was why I found myself standing at the school gates forty-five minutes before classes started.

Half an hour went by, and while other students had started to pour in, there was no sign of Adam. I looked anxiously up and down the road.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder, and I jumped.

“You came back.” It was Caitlin, beaming at me. “We didn’t scare you off then?”

I laughed. “Not quite; I thought I might risk one more day before I run screaming to the U.S.”

“Come on, we’d better get inside. If we’re late to biology, Psycho Phil will go ballistic.”

My heart sank a little. I’d forgotten the class schedule here changed every day. I wondered if Adam would be in my biology class. I was just going to ask Caitlin who Psycho Phil was when I realized my hands were tingling again. A black Volkswagen came into view and swung into a parking space across the road. Adam opened the car door, stepped out, and threw his bag over his shoulder in one fluid movement. Then he leaned over the roof of the car, talking to the girl who was getting out of the passenger side. It was the same girl I had seen him with yesterday. She was tall and slim, and her smooth, black hair was cut in a blunt bob.

They started walking toward the entrance, where I was standing with Caitlin. Adam was grinning, and her face looked up into his with a sly little smile, her eyes gleaming with a witchy edge to them. Adam walked by without a glance. She looked at me sheepishly, then quickly walked on.

“Bitch,” I muttered. I hated to admit it, but I was totally jealous. She was stunning. I could never compete with that. To top it all off, they were probably laughing at me and my completely transparent infatuation with Adam.

“Earth to Megan; come in, Megan,” Caitlin said as she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Megan, are you with me?” she said a little louder. “Or are you with a certain tall, dark, and outrageously handsome Mr. DeRís?” She followed my gaze.

“I wish.” I stared after them. There was no point in trying to hide my glaringly obvious emotions. “They look good together,” I said, somewhat begrudgingly.

“They would,” she said. “They’re twins. And did you not listen to a word I said? Honestly, don’t bother. Now come on.” She grabbed my arm and started dragging me up the hill. “We’re definitely going to be late!”

We ran down the hallway to our class.

“Twins,” I said at the door, as we paused to catch our breath.

“Yes, twins. Her name is Áine.” She shook her head in irritation. “Really, Megan, no offense or anything, but let it drop. You’re wasting your time. He’s a total plank, and has the personality to match. Now, shush,” she whispered, putting her finger over her lips before pushing the door to the biology lab open. I followed, wondering what a “plank” was.

“Ah, ladies, nice of you to finally join us,” said a sarcastic voice as we filed into the room. “I’m assuming this is our new class member, Miss Rosenberg.” A man with beady eyes and more hair on his face than his head glared at me. “Well, Miss Rosenberg, let’s hope this is not how you intend to continue your education in this school, and if it is, perhaps you could be so kind as to not drag Miss Brennan down with you.”

“No, sir,” I muttered, and fled to the nearest available desk. I was starting to understand the “Psycho Phil” nickname.

As soon as I realized we were talking about the lymphatic system—something I had studied last year—I tuned Psycho Phil out and my thoughts drifted back to Adam. The image of him smiling and leaning on his car crept into my mind: his head thrown back in laughter, his green eyes glittering with mischief. I pushed the picture from my mind and reminded myself that I was trying to purge him from my system, not reinforce my feelings. I rubbed the scar on my neck; it was itchy again. I couldn’t believe how much it had been irritating me. It never really bothered me before, but then again, I’d never gotten all flustered over a guy like this before either. I idly traced its circular shape and lost myself to memories of my mom. The scar would always be a painful reminder of the last day we spent together.

I was six. Mom and I had gone to see my grandmother, who was living in a retirement village. We had a great time playing games, Gran telling me stories of when my mom was my age. After dinner Mom and I set off in the car for the three-hour drive back home.

Rain began to fall, and soon the wipers had to work overtime to keep the windshield clear. My mom turned up the radio and we sang along tunelessly, laughing at each other as we made up our own words to the songs. Then there was a sheet of metal coming straight at us and a screeching noise that hurt my ears. I screamed.

The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of me and beeping machines by my side. My dad was holding my hand.

“You came back to me,” he said, tears spilling down his face. Later he told me my mom had died instantly in the crash. I’d been unconscious for days. By the time I woke up, Mom had already been buried. I would never see her again.

My memories of the crash were still vivid all these years later, but now I felt detached from the event. All that was left was the scar, my dad’s sadness, and the guilt I felt when I tried to remember my mom. I kept a photo of her with me, so I wouldn’t forget what she looked like.

The bell broke my reverie. Caitlin turned to me.

“So did you choose home ec or art?”

“Art,” I answered, as I gathered my books.

“Well, you’re on your own for this one. I’m off to bake a cake. I’ll see you in maths. The art rooms are back up the corridor; turn right and they’re on your left.”

“Caitlin, what’s the deal with Adam and Enya? Why don’t people like them?”

Caitlin laughed. “Her name is Áine. You know, like Awn-ya. You’re going to have to get used to these Irish names. Anyway, it’s just … well, they’re stuck-up and a bit weird.” She leaned in closer. “There are rumors about their family. I don’t think I believe them, really, but you know what they say—there’s no smoke without fire.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“There’s been talk of ‘odd’ goings-on. And Adam and Áine don’t do much to persuade people otherwise.”

“So when you say ‘odd,’ you mean …?”

“Really odd. You know … things-that-go-bump-in-the-night odd.”

“You’re joking, right?”

She raised her shoulders and half smiled. “I don’t know. But you’ve been warned.” She wagged her finger and left the class.

I wasn’t much good at art, but I did enjoy it. I was happy that the art teacher ignored formalities and got right down to business. She handed me a sketch pad and pointed me toward a desk with a drawing board on it. I glanced at the still life of white daisies in the center of the room and picked up my pencil, but a shiny black bob on the opposite side of the room caught my eye.

Áine DeRís. She didn’t look at me, just kept sketching. What was it with the DeRís twins? I couldn’t get away from them. I looked up at her again and this time her eyes met mine. She quickly looked away, and I rubbed my neck in annoyance. Now that I knew Adam and Áine were twins, the similarities were obvious: the dark, rich hair; the green eyes; and the strong facial features. They both oozed the same quiet self-confidence, the type of arrogance that came from a life of privilege. Odd, though. Adam’s old car seemed to suggest they weren’t rich.

I sketched away as I thought about them, flicking glances through the limp-looking flowers when Áine wasn’t looking. By the end of the class I was pleasantly surprised with what I had produced. I finished off the sketch and went to get the fixing spray. I was just returning to my desk when Áine passed me. She brushed the display table in her haste to get by and nearly knocked over the vase. Saying nothing, she righted the vase, picked up a daisy that had fallen to the floor, and gently placed it on my desk. Giving me a cautious smile, she walked out.

Caitlin was right. Weird. I grabbed my bag and glanced at the flower she’d left on my desk, doing a double take. I could have sworn it had been a tired-looking white daisy when she picked it up, but it was most definitely a healthy-looking pink daisy now. I chucked it into my bag with my things and went to my next class.

After math (I couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable calling it “maths”), Caitlin and I went outside for lunch. Jennifer, Killian, and Darren were already there, stretched out in the sun. Everyone was chatting happily, and I munched on my sandwich and listened intently, catching up on the gossip. At one point, Darren turned to me, then looked back in the other direction, and then at me again. I watched him, bemused.

“Darren, what are you doing?” Jennifer asked.

“I was just wondering who Rían DeRís was glaring at, and it would appear to be you, Megan. Bloody hell, what did you do to deserve that look?”

“Ree-in?” I glanced up and found the face in question. It was the guy who’d been fighting with Adam yesterday, the guy with the motorcycle. He was Adam’s brother! His eyes boiled with such intensity that I had to look away. “Why would he be looking at me? I’ve never met him,” I said uncertainly.

“He shouldn’t even be here. He finished school last year. I’d watch out if I were you, Megan. Rían will put the evil eye on you. People around here think the DeRíses are witches, ya know,” Darren replied, standing up and waving his hands around like a magician.

“Darren, that’s rubbish. You listen to too many old wives’ tales.” Jennifer gave Darren a look and tugged on his shirt to make him sit down. “And anyway, the rumors are of their being druids, not witches.”

Darren leaned closer to me. “My granddad reckons they’re related to the old Killeen coven that hexed the town back in the eighteen hundreds.”

“What! You’ve got to be messing with me. Is that what you meant by ‘odd,’ Caitlin?” I asked.

“Darren, shut up. You’re going to scare her,” Caitlin said with a slight edge to her voice.

They all looked at me with serious faces. Then they burst out laughing.

“Don’t mind us,” Caitlin said, gently rubbing my arm. “Yes, there are rumors, and there have been ‘incidents,’ but none of us actually believe the stories. Do we, guys?”

“What stories?” I pressed.

“Tell her the one about the cat!” Jennifer exclaimed, elbowing Darren excitedly.

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Darren declared, leaning into me. “A long time ago, there was a woman who lived here. Her name was Elizabeth Killeen. Rumor has it she’s, like, the DeRíses’ great-great-grandmother or something. Anyway, she was a bit of a babe, and all the menfolk of the town had a thing for her. Of course, all the women blamed Elizabeth for the wandering eyes, and one unfortunate lady actually went to confront Elizabeth. When she did, Elizabeth morphed into a ferocious cat and lashed out at her, plucking an eyeball right from her head. The cat reportedly ate the eyeball, and then morphed back into Elizabeth. At least, that’s how One-eyed Lily tells the story.”

“One-eyed Lily?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s the great-granddaughter of the woman who had her eye swiped out. One-eyed Lily says her family is now cursed, and since that day, all the female children have been born with one eye.”

Caitlin threw the crust of her sandwich at Darren. “What rubbish. One-eyed Lily is a crazy alcoholic who fell asleep drunk on the pier and lost her eye because a fisherman accidentally lodged a hook in it. Don’t listen to him, Meg. He’s only winding you up.”

I glanced around at their faces. Darren smirked at me, and Jennifer had gone back to inspecting her hair for split ends.

“So who’s signing up for the school’s sailing classes?” Killian asked, changing the subject.

Caitlin looked excited, while I cringed and pretended not to hear. I personally couldn’t think of anything worse.

Caitlin eyed me. “Would you be up for it, Meg?”

“No way,” I replied, laughing nervously. “Water and I are not friends!”

“Oh, you should,” Killian begged. “It’s going to be fun.” He looked pointedly at Jennifer and Darren.

“It’s a tad remedial for me.” Jennifer sighed, sticking her nose in the air.

Darren snorted. “Come on, Jen. Sitting on the deck of your dad’s day cruiser in a bikini does not equal a qualification in sailing!”

She pouted at him as Killian looked back to Caitlin, his eyes pleading. “Come on, Caitlin; will you?”

Caitlin melted under his gaze. “I’d love to, but I’ll have to run it by my mum.”

“Excellent.” Killian smiled at her.

“Who’s running the course?” Darren asked.

“The yacht club and the outdoor education center; I’m sure the alleged druid himself, Adam DeRís, will be doing some instructing,” Killian replied.

I felt a flicker of interest register on my face. I fought to hide it, but Caitlin didn’t miss a beat. She immediately went to work on my weakness.

“Oh, come on, Meg; it could be fun, and we’d get to miss Friday-afternoon PE for five weeks.”

I groaned inwardly. I was totally witless around water, and here I was being coerced into a sailing course! You know you want to, a voice in my head chirped. One-on-one time with Adam DeRís.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“I guess you can count me in too,” Jennifer added, not to be left out.

Caitlin was bouncing up and down. “Come on; let’s get inside.” She looked like she was going to explode.

“We still have ten minutes before class starts,” I said as I ran after her.

“Will you really do the sailing course?” She turned to me.

“I hate water,” I replied, cringing, “but if you need me to …”

“Oh, I do need you. I do,” she said in a gush. “Killian will be there, and he seemed to want me to be there, didn’t he? Maybe it’s time to up the ante on Operation Snag Killian.”

“Operation Snag Killian?” I repeated, laughing.

“Oh, shut up. I nearly have to mop up the drool that pours from your mouth every time Adam comes within ten feet of you.”

“You’d better be nicer to me if you want me to do this sailing course,” I warned.

“Okay. I promise, I won’t mention Adam again!”

“Fine. You’re on.”

“Yay! And to show my appreciation, this weekend I’m going to introduce you to the many delights of the Kinsale Equestrian Center. You’re going to love it,” she declared.

“Your bringing me to the equestrian center wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Killian’s parents own it, would it?”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “How did you know that?”

“It’s a small town,” I replied, mimicking her voice. “And Jennifer mentioned it earlier.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Well, there’re some fine animals there … and some great horses too,” she added with a smirk.

“You’re impossible! Come on; let’s get to class and get your head out of rippling muscles and firm hindquarters. And the horses, for that matter.”

She exploded with laughter, and we made our way to class.

That night I ran the sailing course by my dad. He was startled, to say the least, since he knew how much I hated the water. But of course he was delighted.

“This place is good for you,” he said. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re glowing.” He paused. “Hey, are there boys involved in this sailing course?”

“Dad, it’s not like I go to an all-girls school. Yes, there are boys involved.”

My dad looked a little uncomfortable. “Has anyone caught your eye?”

“I’ve been at school for two days; give me a chance to get settled.”

“I didn’t mean it like that; you’ve just been acting different. I thought there might be an outside influence.”

“No, Dad. No boys.”

He looked back to the TV, where the news was playing softly. “That course is being run through my club, isn’t it?” he asked, without turning to me.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just wondering. I think one of our guys is helping run it. Adam DeRís. He’s the one we ran into yesterday, remember?”

“Yeah, he’s in a few of my classes.”

“You should have heard the stories that Sybil was spinning about his family—all nonsense, of course, but wow, can that woman tell a tale.”

“What did she say?”

Dad leaned forward. “She said that the DeRís land is bewitched. People won’t even walk there. There have been reports of flocks of savage birds that attack if you get too close. And the farmers claim that the crops won’t grow where their land meets the DeRíses’.”

“Did you hear the one about the cat?”

Dad nodded his head and laughed. “Oh, yeah, that was a doozy. Anyway, Adam’s an excellent instructor. You’ll be in safe hands.”

If only I were in those very safe hands right now, I thought, smiling. Oh, God, I was absolutely pathetic.

Later that night I remembered the daisy that Áine had given to me. I threw myself onto my bed, dipped my hand into my bag, and pulled it out. It was as perfect as when Áine gave it to me. I twirled it around in my fingers, inspecting the delicate petals, allowing my mind to wander to the DeRís family. A scratching noise at the window drew my attention, and I saw a big black crow looking in at me. He had a ring of silver feathers around his right eye that made him look like he was winking.

“Shoo,” I said, waving my hand at him. He flew away.

Without giving it any more thought, I placed the daisy on my nightstand and curled up in bed, pulling the quilt tightly around me.