It was a second before she had a response. “I’m not teaching magic, either. Who do you think set my desk on fire? It had to be someone in the room.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not necessarily,” he said, in his driest tone. “Could have been an experiment gone wrong someplace else. Fireball spell mixes with an instantaneous transportation spell, and poof—Crispy Sadie.”
“Damn,” she breathed, tapping a finger against her bottom lip. “Hadn’t thought of that. It could have been anyone.”
He closed his eyes for a second to contain the irritation coursing through him. “You’ve lost it. I wasn’t serious.”
She ignored that, and faced him with a piercing light in her eyes. “You said that when you were a student here, Nons weren’t even allowed on campus. Who around here hates Nons so badly they would try to kill to get rid of one?” She stiffened, as if coming to a sudden realization. “No, to get rid of two. To scare me and get Carmina suspended. Maybe hoping we’d both leave? So who around here hates Nons so much?”
A bitter taste filled his mouth. “All of us have dedicated our lives to protecting you people.” As he said each word, he stepped toward her. He couldn’t help himself. She stepped back as if trying to maintain their distance, until she had her back against the hallway wall. There, right in the middle of the corridor, where anyone who happened to walk by could see, he put one hand on either side of her head, trapping her in the space created by his arms. “This is how you think of us, with your comic books and your accusations? No wonder we can’t live in the open.”
She lifted her pointed chin, ambushed and caught, but still defiant. “I just found out my brain will be erased like a hard drive with a virus if I drive less than ten kilometers in any direction; forgive me if I’m fresh out of sympathy for superheroes right now.”
A slight whiff of lemon rose from her skin, teasing his senses. She was in prickly librarian mode again, and the tension between them was enough to make him want to free her hair from that severe braid so he could run his fingers through it. She didn’t know how to behave, how to defer to him, like other Metas did. Instead, she pushed him and challenged him.
It made him hot. Arguing with her felt like the preliminary to something. It made him wonder what her compact little body would look like naked. And it dared him to take steps to find out. Right here. In public.
With his heart pulsing under his ribs, he pushed away from the wall. Putting space between them was good. It made things better. Less exciting, but better.
He took a long breath to steady himself, his stress knot crackling in response to her last words. “I wanted to tell you something. I didn’t know about the spell— the one that keeps you here. I had nothing to do with it. You have to believe me.”
“I know,” she said.
His shock must have registered on his face, because after glancing his way, she shrugged and went on. “You took me to the megalith. If you’d known about the spell’s effect, you would have just pushed me out of the circle. Plus, you wouldn’t let Count Burana take me off school grounds, which would have gotten rid of me very effectively. No, I never thought that you knew about the spell.”
“Right,” he said, an unseen burden lifting from him. It was stupid, really, how much it had bothered him to think that she’d lumped him in with the people who had done this to her. “So, yes. I just wanted you to know that. Okay.”
“Okay. I have to get back to my class.” She turned away from him, and he supposed he should leave instead of watching her head into her classroom. But she looked at him over her shoulder as she twisted the doorknob. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Gray.”
I should feel relieved, Sadie reminded herself, as she put the kettle on to boil. She reminded herself again as she got out Pippa’s Brown Betty teapot and dumped in a couple of Ginger Garden teabags.
Pippa could have known she was going to die. She was a witch, an idea that still sent Sadie’s mind reeling. Pippa could have sent that letter with the full knowledge of the accident that would kill her.
That made everything all right. It explained everything.
So why were her back teeth gritting? Why did her gut scream that nothing was explained, that nothing was all right? And that the incidents Gray dismissed as accidents hadn’t been accidents at all?
Besides the feeling, like a recurring itch, that she’d missed something about
The Atlas of Ancient and Medieval Architecture
, there were other things that just didn’t fit. Specifically, Pippa’s box o’ fun: the skull, the bust of Athena, the tiddlywinks, the earrings...
Wait. She slumped back, pressing her hip into the edge of the cupboard. The little bit of pressure somehow helped her think. Count Burana had called the earrings special. After Gray had been surprised...at what? Something magical. And—yes, yes, her ears had popped that night, when Diana had acted so strange at the door. They’d popped again when Burana was trying to tell her what to do.
Had the earrings protected her from something? If so, it explained them, but the other items were still bizarre.
When else had her ears popped? Maybe if she could remember, she could figure out whether anyone had used magic to hide things from her.
Her spine stiffened. The library. When she’d felt that she had to bust through some invisible shield to get in, she’d been right. There was a force field around the library.
It seemed like no one else had felt it, but now she was sure it had been there. Had someone tried to keep her out? If so, what was in the library that she wasn’t meant to see?
And then there was librarian Eton English’s sudden disappearance. His so-called “leave of absence.” But he couldn’t have had anything to do with her “accidents.”
Then again, maybe his leaving wasn’t mysterious at all. She deflated a bit. If she’d found a dead body—maybe a friend’s body—she wasn’t sure she’d be excited to spend every day in the place where the death had happened.
However, it was annoying that the one person whom she knew had a connection to Pippa’s death was out of her reach. Maybe that’s what was making her think of secrets and conspiracies all the time. If she could just talk to him, know that things had really happened the way everyone said they had...
Of course, she did have one more clue. The letter. Hmm. Maybe there was something in there she’d missed.
She pulled the letter out of the paperback copy of
Jane Eyre
that she’d worn to shreds, its spine held together by the last bits of yellowing glue. The book was sitting at her right hand, prepared for the hard-core reading session she’d intended to go with the tea. She’d taken to using the letter as a bookmark.
She was just about to remove it from the envelope when two things interrupted: the whistle of the kettle and a knock at the door.
Not Gray’s knock. It was too light, too tentative, as if the knocker couldn’t decide whether they wanted to come in. Gray always knew that he wanted to come in.
Dammit, she’d known the guy for a couple of weeks, and she knew his knock. Pathetic. Beyond pathetic.
She took the kettle off the burner, still cursing herself, and headed toward the door.
A woman-shaped cotton ball stood in front of Thalia, solid white from low-heeled suede boots to pom-pom-tufted beret. A rolling suitcase waited at her feet. White, of course. Only one person could pull off a snowy look like that: Jewel Jones.
She tried hard to smile at the teacher but felt as if curving her lips might make her face shatter like an eggshell smacked with the back of a spoon. Jewel had come to deliver some magic thing that Sadie needed for a ceremony she had to perform over the vacation. It was a sad reminder that Sadie was stuck here for the next little while. At least being alone on campus meant she didn’t have to worry about any accidents for a while.
“It’s an honor to be trusted with the winter solstice rituals,” Jewel Jones said, after they’d traded strained greetings.
Her ears popped as she accepted the red velvet bag. Its contents shifted between her fingers like sand. It could have been magic pixie dust, for all Sadie knew, or the ice melter she’d mistaken it for earlier. She only knew it was her job to throw it on the creepy monoliths of the magic circle. Her only duty for the next two bleak, lonely weeks.
“I just know they make the teacher with the least seniority stay over Christmas.” She sighed. She’d be staying anyway, so she might as well handle the task.
Jewel shifted uncomfortably on the apartment threshold, her back to Thalia’s white marble butt. Sadie couldn’t tell whether she was nervous at being caught in the lie or just wanted to escape for the holidays. Jewel had seemed on edge lately.
Outside Pippa’s frosted windows, asphalt paths criss-crossed the white Strange Academy campus like black ribbons. Last night’s snow would stay until spring. Winter was locked in now.
Just like me,
she thought, slightly bitter after spending the day watching every student drive off with loving parents.
She was embarrassed at the way she’d taken it out on the kids yesterday, but what did Cross and the others expect? They could have trusted her with their secret. Now, faced with the choice, she found she didn’t really want anyone messing with her brain.
But she couldn’t stay here, either.
“It’s an important duty,” Jewel repeated.
“I’ll just hole up here for a couple of weeks. Pippa’s books are back.” She waved her hand at the collection of classics filling Pippa’s shelves. “So I’m among friends.”
The senior rugby team had arrived yesterday, lugging heavy boxes full of Pippa’s books. It had been good timing. Sadie’s book supply had been running low and she’d been in serious danger of having to visit the library. One visit was enough for her, even if there was nothing mysterious about Pippa’s death.
Her skin suddenly tingled with the awareness that standing right in front of her was someone who knew the man she most wanted to talk to.
“Eton English.” Desperation made her words rush out. She swallowed, collecting an air of calm around her. “Tell me about him.”
Jewel’s white eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Didn’t Pippa—” The witch cut off, snapping her lips shut as if trying to hold something in. Her left foot inched backward until it hit Thalia’s toe. “I should go.”
A flare of panic launched inside Sadie’s chest. Without thinking, she grabbed Jewel’s sleeve, intent on making her stay. “Please,” she begged. “I’m so sick of secrets. Tell me.”
Jewel swallowed visibly, nearly a gulp. “They were close.”
Sadie’s grip on Jewel’s coat slackened. Her vision blurred and her mouth went dry. Pippa. Had a. Boyfriend. It explained Eton’s stress leave. Of course he’d be upset by finding the body of his girlfriend. And when women were killed, their partner was usually suspect number one. She had a sudden flashback to Fabian’s rage-red face right before she smacked him with the lamp.
“Where can I get his phone number?” She sounded like a barking Doberman. No wonder Jewel flinched. Sadie let go of her sleeve, flushing a bit.
“Why?”
Good question. What would she even say to him?
Hello, you’ve never met me, but can we talk about my aunt’s death? Did you kill her? Merry Christmas.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Concern filled Jewel’s voice, as if she thought Sadie was the one who needed stress leave. “Perhaps you should talk to your family.”
Sadie winced at the memory of the last time she’d seen Chloë. Her sister’s face had been filled with pain. “My sister’s a psychic who solves crimes with the police. At the funeral, I called her a faker because she wouldn’t help me investigate Pippa’s death. I screamed it in public.”
“Oh.” Jewel pulled on gloves as white as her hat, scarf, coat, and hair. “You thought Pippa was murdered?”
Sadie flipped the velvet bag to her other hand and showed Jewel the letter, explaining her logic at the time.
“Is that it?” Jewel’s hand shot out, a white blur, and snatched the letter. “This is one of the last things she wrote. I’ll read it. I’ll bring it back after the holidays.”
Then Jewel was gone, leaving her stunned, clutching the velvet bag in a daze.
What had just happened? As she watched Jewel sprint away, the paranoid conspiracy feeling rose in her again, like the mercury in a thermometer. It seemed like Jewel had just stolen her letter, but Sadie couldn’t come up with a good reason why.
Maybe she’d just been curious. That thought left an acid taste in her mouth, a warning of wrongness. The only other possible reason was to keep Sadie from having it. The hair on her forearms rose.
No, she told herself. There had to be some other reason. Of course there was. It just wasn’t completely obvious. Or even slightly obvious.
Mr. English had been Pippa’s boyfriend. She had to talk to him now. And if she interrupted his Christmas with some uncomfortable questions, he would have to live with that.
His phone number should be in the Strange Academy staff directory.
*
***
******
****
*
Sadie, sitting on Pippa’s window seat with the quilt over her knees, scowled into her Chunky Monkey. The freezing rain coating the lead glass diamonds of the windowpane kept her from seeing out. She didn’t need to look, anyway; the campus had been deserted for two days. Being alone here was creeping her out, resulting in the consumption of large quantities of ice cream. To add to her cabin fever, the freezing rain was gradually slicking the campus with a slippery layer of glass.
Of course, Eton English’s phone number in the staff directory had been the one for the library.
With only minutes to spare before the office closed for the holidays, she’d run to Chapter House and asked the secretary for Mr. English’s home number, claiming to want to order some books for the library. The secretary had turned away without a word.
Sadie had taken that as a no.
But the secretary had calmly typed a few words on her computer and hit the print button while Sadie tried to think of another argument. The woman had collected the document from the printer and proofread it fastidiously before handing it to Sadie.