Part 9 (1/2)
”Somerled.”
”Skye Somerled?” Skepticism snarled out around his tongue. ”Do they make you change your name when you join up?”
Her lips pursed like an old woman's, but with less wrinkles, pus.h.i.+ng the tip of her nose up slightly. Cute nose.
”I've always been Skye Somerled, thanks. And no one joins up; you're either a Somerled, or you're not.”
”And what if you start craving hamburgers?”
She smiled and folded her arms. Ray'd been right about the vegetarian stuff.
Jamison guessed she'd be blowing off the whole first period too, and the thing he'd dreaded all day-running into her-was the last thing he wanted to end.
”Or what if you fell in love with...blue jeans?”
”Ha!” She tossed her head back and put her hands on her hips, holding back all those layers of sweater, coat, and scarf. Actually, the white jeans looked pretty hot.
”Or if you got caught wearing black sungla.s.ses?”
He didn't want to let the chance pa.s.s to learn more about her cult rules. The thought of them punis.h.i.+ng her for misbehaving made him want to retch.
She bit her bottom lip again and looked down, adjusted her bag, preparing to walk away. ”I found them in the car.”
She'd mumbled, but he'd heard her. It was his turn to laugh. She didn't sound like she was afraid of punishment. She was just embarra.s.sed to get busted. Sungla.s.ses weren't allowed, after all.
When he could speak again, he meant to say something smooth, but what came out was, ”I'll keep your secret.”
Her head snapped up. d.a.m.n it!
Stay cool. Keep talking.
”You'd better be careful, though. Don't forget you're wearing them and drive home like that.” He gave her a teasing smile to distract her from the smell of fear in the air-his fear. It blew in and out his nose with each breath. He hoped she had a cold so she'd miss it. Surely girls who helped blow up people in mid-air knew what fear smelled like.
Jamison struggled to keep a straight face and block the image of Ray and Burke being lifted off the ground, knowing they were seconds away from being blown to smithereens.
Okay. He needed to get away from her. This couldn't end well.
”Fine,” she said. ”You keep my secret, and I'll keep yours.”
He couldn't have walked away if his shoes were on fire.
Would she slap his hand away if he reached for her gla.s.ses? If he could just see her eyes, he'd know just how busted he was. No one was as good an actor as he was. No one.
”And do I have a secret?” Innocent. Think innocent.
”Don't you?” She lowered the sungla.s.ses and smiled a smile that bore into his soul.
He suddenly saw nothing wrong with confessing every secret he'd ever kept. Thankfully she winked and that stupid urge disappeared. He stuck his tongue between his teeth and clamped down, just in case.
”It looks like you're all registered for cla.s.ses and you're skipping out on your first day.”
”Oh.” He looked at the schedule in his hand. ”No. I'm just waiting for my friend, Ray. Said he'd meet me here before cla.s.ses started.” He should get an Oscar for the morning's performance. Honestly. ”You know Ray Peters?”
Skye smiled and pushed her gla.s.ses back up, but not before he saw something flash across her face. Regret? Pity? He sure as h.e.l.l hoped it wasn't guilt.
”Sure I know Ray. And I know him well enough to not be surprised he's late for school.”
”Yeah?” Jamison stiffened. ”I know him pretty well myself. We've been best friends all our lives, and he'd rather die than let me down.”
She frowned, though he could barely see the pucker in her brow over the gla.s.ses. ”And he's letting you down by not showing up to school on time?”
”Yeah, he is.” Jamison looked down at the sidewalk, no longer wanting to explain. She'd think he was so stupid for wanting someone to have his back when he walked through those halls the first day. Then something else came to him; he was more worried about his first day at school than he was about what had happened to his friend. ”Loser!”
”What?”
”Sorry. Not you. I'm the loser. I shouldn't be p.i.s.sed that he's not here. I should be worried...worried about why he's not here.”
She smiled. That was a good sign. Either she didn't know what they'd done to Ray and Burke, or she wasn't concerned about it. Then again, she could be a cold brainwashed zombie who didn't care what had happened to them.
”You're a good friend to have, I think.” She walked around him and called over her shoulder, ”I wouldn't worry about Ray and Burke if I were you. They'll be fine. You'll see.”
He tried not to lean into her as her bulky coat brushed his arm. The fact that he was tempted to do so blew him away. It was like there was a rubber band stretched between them and he automatically relaxed when they were close. As she entered the main doors, he could feel the tension, the stretching, and he knew he'd be spending the rest of the day thinking of a way to stand near her again.
Then her parting words replayed in his head.
He'd never said anything about Burke!
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GOING BACK FOR ROMEO.
PROLOGUE.
Castle Ross, East Burns.h.i.+re, Scotland 1494.
Odd.
The stone closest to Laird Montgomery Ross's foot looked to be the same shape as the hole remaining in the side of his sister's tomb, but he refused to reach for it.
”Nay. I'm not ready to be finished.” Monty whispered his complaint to G.o.d, for surely it was G.o.d's hand that wrought such an appropriately shaped thing.
Behind him, one of the priests cleared his throat. Monty knew without looking it had been the fat one who could not cease rubbing his hands together, even while Monty's sister was led inside her would-be grave. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had been rubbing them for a fair two days, since he'd arrived to try Isobelle as a witch. No doubt they were itchy for the feel of a woman's neck since Monty had cheated them out of wringing his sister's.