Waysider (The Voyants Book 1)

Chapter 20

The moment she realized what was happening, Cass felt a burst of shrieking, star-bright panic.

She immediately started to reach for the doorknob again, but then… she couldn’t. She couldn’t even raise her hand. Not because she’d frozen in terror, as she usually did, but because there was something else in control. Something inside of her, just like that day in the library.

Horror burned through Cass’s veins and she tried to scream. Before she could, Cass felt a dizzying, tilting sensation, as if she were back on the Zero Gravity ride at the carnival. She felt her back press into a wall, and then she was sliding down.

As she hit the floor, Cass tried to cling to the memory of Cal beside her that day, hoping the thought of her brother would help her fight against the revenant. She remembered the warmth of Cal’s hand when she’d grabbed for him, unwilling to admit that she was afraid. He’d looked over at her, his blue eyes shining in the neon lights that flashed around them. Even at twelve, when they were both scrawny and small, her twin had felt like everything safe and solid.

“I’m here,” he mouthed, squeezing her sweaty fingers. Cass opened her mouth to answer, but the sound of crying filled her head.

“Help me,” a voice whispered.

It was so full of quiet, desperate fear that Cass forgot to picture Cal’s face, and she lost hold of the memory. It rushed away in a blur of colors, all those laughs and screams fading into a thick, dark silence. Cass found herself back in the closet, and she was cold. So cold that she could see her breath. She shivered, but she couldn’t even wrap her arms around herself. Cass felt her body give a hard jerk as the revenant burrowed deeper into her mind.

The images were fragmented, chaotic. Cass saw flashes of campus. The sloped ceiling of the chapel. Rows of shadowed pews. She could hear herself panting and sobbing as she ran up the aisle, her broken toe shrieking in pain. She knew he was still behind her. Her only hope was that he didn’t know about the secret door, the hiding place behind the podium she’d discovered last year. As she ran, she clung to the shaky, desperate prayer in her head. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…

The memory skipped parts again, as if the scene was a scratched record. Suddenly Cass was sitting in the dark again, hiding inside the wall and trying not to rock. On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Her prayers cut short when Cass heard the chapel door open, and a fresh burst of terror spread through her. Footsteps filled the quiet. She clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle a sob. And lead us not into temptation…

“Stop,” Cass cried.

For an instant, she felt a searing burst of triumph and relief, thinking she’d regained control of her voice. But Cass quickly realized it hadn’t been her that commanded her mouth to form the word—it was the dead girl. Cass knew she was still in the revenant’s memory when her heels jerked against the floor, seemingly of their own volition. In the next breath, every thought she had was wiped out by a rush of panic. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe! Cass clawed at her throat.

A jolt of horror went through her when she felt another pair of hands there.

Huge, strong hands that kept tightening around Cass’s fragile neck. She felt her eyes bulge. Cass made a raspy sound and scrabbled at her attacker’s fingers. Pain was beginning to form in her lungs and her chest as her body shrieked for air. He was so strong, god, he was strong. Her weak blows glanced off him like they were nothing. But Cass kept gurgling, scratching, kicking. That relentless grip only tightened, and the edges of her vision dimmed.

Cass knew she was dying. Even though she’d only felt it once, it was something you never forgot. Time felt like it was slowing down and speeding up at the same time. The cold and the pain was fading. One by one, Cass’s hands fell. The first hit the floor while the other landed on her stomach and rested there.

A broken whisper drifted through her mind. The last thought she would ever have.

Deliver us from evil.

There was a terrible cracking sound, and a white-hot explosion of pain.

And then, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Cass floated through the dark. Weightless, thoughtless. There was no pain, no fear. Only silence.

“Cass? Are you okay?”

The voice echoed through the darkness, and it was like a shroud had been yanked off Cass. She sat there, blinking at the figure looming over her. Light spilled around broad shoulders and gleamed on familiar golden hair. Recognition made her thoughts clear—it was Teddy Crane.

Cass finally noticed his outstretched hand and took it automatically. Teddy’s warm palm was instant relief against her freezing skin. He pulled Cass to her feet and into the light, watching her with obvious concern.

“Th-thanks,” Cass said, knowing that she needed to say something. “I, uh, must’ve had too much to drink.”

She hadn’t had a sip of alcohol tonight, but it still felt true. Her head was pounding. Cass struggled to regain her bearings, her eyes flicking around them. She was on the back porch at House Shadowripper, and the party was still going in full force inside. People were standing on the other end of the porch, the ends of their cigarettes glowing in the dim. Although they seemed to be talking about David Bowie, their eyes kept sliding toward her. Cass had no idea what they’d seen or how long she’d been cowering there. No, she thought grimly. How long she’d been kept there. The reality of what just happened finally hit her.

A ghost had shown Cass her death.

Teddy must’ve seen something worrying in her expression, because he said abruptly, “Hey, do you want to get out of here? I can walk you home, or there’s a diner nearby that’s open late. Decent burgers.”

“Sure. Burgers sound… great, actually,” Cass admitted, surprised to find that it was true. She was still riding waves of shock and adrenaline, and the thought of food probably should’ve repulsed her. But she hadn’t really touched her food at lunchtime, and Cass had forgotten to eat before the party. She also couldn’t shake off the memory of that cold, unending emptiness Teddy had pulled her from, and Cass was desperate to feel alive. She resisted the urge to touch her throat.

He smiled at her, revealing his dimples again. “Great. Let’s go.”

Teddy reached behind Cass and opened the door. A burst of warmth and noise greeted her. As she went inside, with Teddy close behind, Cass could hear the smokers talking about them before the door had fully closed. She fought the urge to roll her eyes and started making her way through the kitchen, which was even busier than it had been before. A card game had begun at the round table, and on the other side of the room, someone was doing a handstand on a keg. Students clustered around him, cheering and shouting. Pizza boxes covered the countertops and there was a huge puddle on the floor. Cass stepped over it, and a moment later, she finally reached the hallway.

Walking through a party with Teddy Crane was what she imagined it felt like to be Homecoming Queen. Everyone looked at them, everyone talked to them. Cass lost count of how many guys shouted Teddy’s name. He smiled and nodded constantly, but he stayed close to her, even when a couple of his friends tried to pull him away. Cass didn’t miss how the girls looked at her—some with skepticism, others with jealousy. Another night, it might’ve bothered her. But being possessed by the spirit of a murdered girl put things into perspective, and right now, all Cass wanted was to get the hell out of this house.

She raised her gaze toward the front door, relieved that she could actually see it now. Then she spotted Sinister and her stomach dropped.

After what just happened with the revenant, Cass had completely forgotten about what she’d witnessed right beforehand. In her mind’s eye, she saw Webster and Victoria springing apart again, their faces bathed in light and guilt. Fuck, Cass thought. She couldn’t deal with anything else tonight.

Teddy had noticed Sinister, too. When they reached him, Teddy clapped the Shadowripper on the shoulder and lowered his hands to sign. “Thanks for the invite, man. Great party.”

Sinister nodded and signed a brief response, then turned his gaze to Cass. Trying to hide her eagerness to leave, she forced a quick, polite smile. “See you around,” Cass said.

His blue eyes searched her expression. He was probably wondering if she was pissed about getting rejected, Cass thought, but she couldn’t exactly reassure him in front of Teddy. Plus she really, really wanted that burger. “I’m glad you came,” Sinister replied.

The softness in his voice made Cass’s mind flash with another image from tonight—a sad-eyed man sitting on a bench, holding a bouquet of flowers in his wrinkled hand. They’re not monsters. They’re people.

Cass attempted another smile, and this one wasn’t as forced. “So am I.”

Teddy moved to open the door, and as Cass followed, she swore she felt eyes boring into her. On the threshold, she allowed herself to look back. Cass expected to see Sinister talking to someone else, but he stood exactly how she’d left him. A frown hovering at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark in the shadowed hallway. Cass felt that pull toward him again, and she fought it, remembering the rush of mortification when Sinister had said, I’m with Webster.

Cass quickly turned and walked out.

A minute later, she was making her way across campus with Teddy Crane. The pathways were just as quiet as the street had been earlier, with Sinister. No, Cass thought firmly. She wasn’t thinking about him. That was Future Cass’s problem.

“How did you learn sign language?” she asked Teddy abruptly, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. The night was cooler than she’d expected it to be for California.

“Self-taught,” he answered. A lock of bright hair fell into Teddy’s eye, and he reached up, raking it back with his fingers.

They walked beneath the archway at the end of the drive, and Teddy steered them to the left. Neon signs glowed up ahead. Cass had noticed the diner on the day of her arrival. It had been busier, then—tonight the colorful room beyond the windows was still, and the bell over the door was silent.

As they approached, Cass found herself glancing sidelong at Teddy. She was captivated by the absent grace of how he moved. Then, in the next breath, she was annoyed that she’d noticed. “How many languages do you know?” she asked next.

“Six. No, seven,” Teddy amended, pulling the door open for her. They walked inside, and Cass took in the checkered floors and chrome bar stools.

“Impressive, but somehow I’m not surprised.” She shot Teddy a teasing smile just before the hostess greeted them, a redhead in a blue uniform. The silver pin on her chest declared, Hi, my name is Cheryl.

She led them to a booth and set two menus down. As Cass and Teddy slid into their seats, another customer called for Cheryl, and annoyance flitted across her face. She turned toward a man sitting at the counter, her hair flashing in the florescent lights.

“Just a minute, Tom!” Cheryl hollered.

“I’m a paying customer, you know. I have rights!”

Cheryl’s nostrils flared. She visibly worked to control her expression as she turned back to Cass and Teddy. “I’m so sorry about my brother. I had to take him with me tonight. I’ll be right back, all right?”

She hurried away, and Teddy and Cass faced each other across the table. Suddenly she felt awkward, uncertain. Cass started to reach for her bangs. She caught herself and forced her hand back into her lap. She cleared her throat and said to Teddy, “Sorry if I ruined the party for you.”

He immediately shook his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. I was going to leave soon, anyway.”

Now Cass felt a whisper of curiosity. She would’ve thought the golden boy never left a party early. “How come?” she asked.

Some of the light left Teddy’s eyes. He folded his arms and leaned on the table. Tension filled the hard lines of his shoulders. “I just broke up with someone, and she was there tonight,” he admitted. “She doesn’t usually go to that sort of thing, so I figured it would be safe. Clearly I was wrong.”

Cass didn’t need to ask who his ex was—she remembered a moment she’d witnessed in the dining hall, the brief exchange between Teddy and the dark-haired Dreamwalker. She was about to respond when Cheryl returned and set two glasses of water down. The redhead took a notepad out of her apron and removed a pen from behind her ear, poising it over the paper. “Sorry about that. What can I get you?” she asked.

Teddy grinned at Cass. “Ladies first.”

She didn’t need any further prompting. Cass ordered a burger and fries, plus a large chocolate milkshake, and Teddy asked for the same. Once their waitress was gone, she realized she hadn’t gotten a chance to respond to his reason for leaving the party. Cass gave Teddy a sympathetic look and said, “Normally I would tell you to suck it up and face the problem head-on, but Victoria Chen is sort of terrifying.”

Teddy rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a rueful look. “Guess we weren’t being subtle about it, huh?”

Cass tore the wrapping off one of the straws and put it in her water. Ice cubes scraped against the inside of the plastic cup. “Well, that, and the students here apparently don’t have anything better to talk about,” she told Teddy.

He sat back against the booth and let out a sigh. “Fantastic,” he muttered.

“People have been gossiping about me my entire life. Eventually you just stop caring.” Cass paused. “It must be hard being the headmistress’s son.”

“You have no idea.” Teddy rubbed a hand over his face like the mere reminder exhausted him. As a brief silence fell between them, Elton John played from an old radio on the countertop nearby in a blend of deep crooning and bittersweet piano notes. After another moment, Teddy tilted his head and looked at her. Cass saw a flash of the same curiosity she’d felt in his eyes. “So what about you? What’s your deal?”

Cass crossed her arms and considered the question. “I’m reckless,” she answered finally. “Selfish. Impulsive. Everything that’s gone wrong in my life is my own damn fault.”

Teddy’s eyebrows drew together. He leaned forward again, and their faces were so close that Cass could make out the faintest lines of brown appearing amongst the vividly blue iris. “Jeez. You’re being a little hard on yourself, don’t you think?” he said. “No one who comes to Else Bellows has had it easy.”

Cass just shrugged. She’d never forget the look on her parents’ faces when they told her Cal hadn’t made it out of the river. That pain was her fault. Everything they’d lost was on Cass, because there was something broken inside of her.

She’d gone over the details a million times, and no matter how she looked at it, none of it would’ve happened without her shitty choices. Each one had a domino effect that led right to Cal, crashing into him with the same chaos that Cass caused everywhere she went, without any regard to other people or the consequences.

“Hey,” Teddy said, startling her. Cass refocused on him, and she realized her face must’ve given her away again. Teddy was watching her with concern. “I know I keep asking this, but are you okay?”

Just as she started to respond, a commotion startled them both. Teddy and Cass turned toward the other end of the long room, where Tom was still seated on one of the stools at the counter. Cheryl snatched a cookie out of his hand, smacked it, and set the cookie back onto a platter. She slammed the lid in place with unnecessary force.

“I bet you five bucks this ends with Cheryl boxing his ears,” Teddy said under his breath.

A startled laugh slipped from Cass. “I’ll take those odds,” she countered. “The woman is going to punch him right in the face. Look at that glare. You just know she’s clenching her fists under the counter.”

Teddy laughed, too. He wasn’t as quiet as she’d been, and the sound floated through the diner, drawing people’s gazes in their direction. Cass watched the light return to Teddy’s eyes. She couldn’t help but like the way he was looking at her—as if she were the only one there. As if she were beautiful.

She tried to shake it off. Thankfully, their food arrived shortly after that. Cass reached for the ketchup bottle and squirted some onto her plate. Teddy pointed at her with a cluster of fries and said, “I’ll make you a deal, Cass Ryan. I won’t ever talk about you behind your back. If I’ve got something to say, I’ll say it to your face. All I ask is that you do the same.”

Cass chewed, pretending to think about it. Then she smiled and nodded, sucking some salt off her thumb. “Deal.”

They shook hands over the table, Teddy grinning at her like a little kid, and Cass couldn’t stop the answering tug at the corners of her mouth. She felt better, Cass realized suddenly. Like she’d finally managed to pull herself from that bleak, endless darkness Teddy had found her in. Cass picked up her burger and took a huge bite, reveling in the taste of melted cheese and greasy meat. She could feel Teddy looking at her, probably marveling at how disgusting she was, but Cass didn’t care. This was the best burger she’d ever had.

Then Teddy took a bite of his own burger, and Cass realized he was disgusting, too. They grinned at each other again, some wordless feeling passing between them. As she watched Teddy take a drink from his milkshake, Cass thought about telling him the truth about what happened at the party. It would be such a relief to confide in someone. She couldn’t talk to Cal, or he’d just worry more than he already did. She couldn’t tell Finch because she might urge Cass to report it, or do it herself, and Cass couldn’t afford any scrutiny. So far, no one seemed to know about Cal, and she wanted to keep it that way. Which meant she couldn’t trust Teddy, either.

“Tell me about lacrosse,” Cass said suddenly.

That was all the encouragement Teddy needed.

For the next hour, he explained Else Bellows’s most popular sport. Teddy was the team captain, of course. As they finished their food and walked to House Wayside together, he told her about their biggest rival, St. Benedict’s, another school of parapsychology. Even though it was nearly morning, the barest beginnings of daylight visible on the horizon, Cass didn’t feel tired or afraid anymore. Teddy was so bright—his hair, his smile, his voice—and it was easy to understand why everyone talked about him. Why they were drawn to him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Teddy said, his elbow brushing hers. They walked in and out of the shadows cast by a row of palm trees lining the street. “Is there a story behind your tattoo?”

Cass hesitated. She tipped her head back to gaze up at the sky. She thought of a lie, like she always did, but then she thought about how kind Teddy had been to her.

“No. Not really,” she said.

Perceptive as ever, Teddy didn’t push her. When they reached the front path of the house, Cass expected him to stop. Instead, he accompanied her right to the door. Silence trembled around them again. The only light came from a single window. If any of Cass’s roommates were home, they were asleep. As she faced Teddy on the porch, Cass felt a burst of déjà vu.

No, it’s not déjà vu, she thought. You were literally in this situation a couple hours ago.

Cass wasn’t about to make the same idiotic mistake twice. She gave Teddy an easygoing smile and reached up to give him a one-armed hug, her other hand tucked firmly in her back pocket. “That was just what I needed,” she told him. “Thank you. See you in class.”

“Wait,” Teddy said as Cass turned away. She stopped and looked at him, but he let out a breath and shook his head. Golden strands caught the light. “Never mind.”

Cass didn’t move. “What?”

The Airweaver tilted his head and touched his eyebrow. The gesture was absent, almost like a tell, Cass thought. Something was bothering him. Teddy was standing so close that she could see the flecks of amber in his eyes again. Cass searched his gaze, trying to think of anything she could’ve done to upset him. What was he—oh. Oh.

Cass had seen that look on a guy’s face before, and in a rush, she realized what was happening. Usually it was just in the backseat of a car, or in a dim corner at a party. Teddy liked her. Or at least a certain part of him did.

He kept staring down at her, and something inside Cass stirred, low and hot. She hadn’t expected it, wasn’t ready for it, especially after everything that had happened earlier. But at the start of this disastrous night, Cass had set out just wanting to have fun. Her gaze lowered to Teddy’s mouth. What could be more fun than a steamy makeout session with a sweet, hot guy?

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

Teddy’s eyes heated, and he didn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers slid into the hair at the base of her neck, and he gently tipped her head back. As his mouth came down on Cass’s, she felt his hard body brush against hers. She pressed closer and parted her lips, wanting more. Teddy’s tongue tangled with hers. He tasted like chocolate, Cass noted faintly. Arousal exploded through her body, but Teddy explored her as if they had all the time in the world. She felt his hands slide down her back and land on her waist, then pull her even closer.

At the exact moment Cass felt his erection press against her thigh, Teddy groaned and broke away. “Fuck. Cass, I just broke up with—”

“Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head quickly, hoping it was too dark for Teddy to see the heat rushing to her cheeks. You have got to be kidding me, Cass thought. Again? This was happening to her again? She tried to sound utterly unfazed as she added, “That makes total sense, and I need to focus on school, anyway. Thanks again for… for helping me tonight. Really. I’ll see you in class.”

Teddy looked worried. “We should go to the diner again sometime. If you’re up for it.”

“Definitely,” Cass agreed. She couldn’t bring herself to reassure him any more. With a tight, parting smile, Cass opened the door and went inside. She closed it and leaned against the solid wood, letting out a breath. Two rejections in one night. That had to be some kind of record, she thought faintly. She couldn’t wait to head upstairs and put this horrible day to an end.

Cass was about to push off the door when a sound reached her ears. She straightened, a fresh surge of adrenaline pumping through her. She reminded herself that five other people lived in this house—seven if she included Cal and Michael—and the noise had probably come from one of them. But after being possessed just a couple hours ago, Cass was a little on edge. She crept down the hallway, panic making her breath ragged.

The sound had come from the kitchen. Cass peered around the doorway, her heart a thunderstorm in her chest. A moment later, relief rushed in, and Cass could breathe again. “Finch? Are you okay?” she said.

Her roommate sat on the floor, her back slumped against the cupboards. Finch’s pale legs were splayed, her long skirt bunched around her thighs. Her head had lolled to one side, but at the sound of Cass’s voice, Finch stirred. Her red eyes cracked open and slowly landed on Cass.

“You can’t see my underwear, can you?” she asked. The words were hoarse.

“Nope,” Cass lied smoothly, leaning over Finch to open one of the cupboards. Her roommate needed to hydrate, and Cass also did it to hide the guilt surging through her. She’d gotten so caught up in the moment with Teddy that she had completely forgotten Finch’s crush on him. It was definitely a good thing he’d put the brakes on, Cass thought. Where was Bradley? Was he in the same shape as Finch?

She took a clean cup off the shelf, then put it beneath the water faucet. Once she’d filled it, Cass squatted and held the cup in front of Finch’s white, pinched face. “Drink this.”

Finch took it and drank for several seconds. Once the cup was nearly empty, she rested it against her stomach and let out a long, deep sigh. “They’re so disappointed in me,” she mumbled.

Cass frowned. “Who? Those mouth breathers at the party?”

“My parents.” Finch’s tone was mournful. “Victoria Chen isn’t the only legacy on campus, you know. Everyone in my family is a voyant. Mom and Dad, my brother, my uncles, my grandparents. They all went to Else Bellows. They were so excited when I finally had an encounter with the revenant in our garden. My family leaves him there, you know, so each generation can be tested. One by one, my cousins and siblings saw him. And year after year, I saw…nothing.”

She sounded so defeated that Cass lowered herself to the floor and crossed her legs. She wasn’t good at comforting people, but she’d had some practice with Teresa over the years. “You did eventually, right?” Cass ventured. “You said you had an encounter.”

Finch made a soft, humorless sound. A strand of hair stuck to her temple and her pearly skin gleamed with perspiration. “If you can even call it that,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

Cass’s roommate lifted her hand to make a vague gesture. She was so drunk that even this looked difficult for her, and Finch’s voice slurred as she said, “I sat out there every night, between three and four, and I waited. I waited for years. While the rest of my family was tucked in their beds, I was outside, crying on that stone bench that always made my butt fall asleep. If any of them knew, they didn’t care. Finally, last fall, I did it. I was staring at the fountain, and I caught a glimpse of him. It was quick, like a camera flash. But he was there. Kneeling down, taking a sip of water. He was wearing a strange straw hat.”

Near the end, her voice broke, and Cass saw that look in Finch’s eyes again. The confusion. The rejection. Wondering why she wasn’t good enough, trying to think of what she could do to be what they wanted. Cass felt something in her chest constrict.

She hesitated for a moment, and then she shifted, moving to sit beside Finch. Cass’s wrists dangled off her knees, and she fixed her eyes on the floor. “Look,” she said slowly, “I know how much it can suck, feeling different from everyone in your family. Feeling like you’re failing them, or that you’ll never be able to become the version of yourself they’re hoping for. But if you think about the people in the world who everyone remembers, the people who actually made something of themselves? They aren’t usually known for sticking to the status quo or following in someone else’s footsteps. Maybe being the black sheep just means we’re supposed to make our own legacies.”

Finch’s chin quivered. She turned her head, which was still resting against the cupboard, and met Cass’s gaze. “That was a beautiful thing to say. Thank you for trying to make me feel better. I’m… I’m really glad you came to Else Bellows, Cass.”

Cass felt that sensation in her chest again, but more gently this time. As if someone were tugging at a tiny thread tied inside her.

“Me, too,” she said to Finch. The thread tugged again. Quickly Cass added, “What happened at the party, by the way? I was outside for a while, but when I came back, I couldn’t find you anywhere. And where did Bradley go?”

Finch moaned and bent her head, pressing it against the tops of her knees. Her response was muffled. “I spent most of the night in the bathroom. Bradley got pulled away by a couple Pennyseekers, and we lost track of each other after that. Every person I talked to looked at me like I didn’t belong there. So I drank a beer for some courage. Then I had another one, and before I knew it, I was three sheets to the wind. I locked myself in with a toilet and listened to people pound on the door while I puked my guts up. How was the rest of your night?”

“Humbling,” Cass muttered, thinking of Sinister and Teddy.

Finch sniffed and lifted her head. Her cheeks gleamed in the yellow kitchen light. “Sorry, what?”

“Never mind,” Cass sighed. She got to her feet and crossed over to the sink. “Hey, let’s get you cleaned up. I think we both need some sleep.”

As she went through the motions of helping her roommate, Cass’s mind began to race. Instead of her humiliating rejections, she just kept feeling the girl’s death. She didn’t care about Sinister and Teddy, Cass decided as she dabbed at Finch’s damp cheeks with a washcloth.

She didn’t know the revenant’s name, or what the dead girl wanted, but one thing had become abundantly clear.

Cass was being haunted.

On Monday morning, Cass walked into Hauntings 101 with hunched shoulders and a heavy heart.

Campus was buzzing with the news—the Chapel Victim had been officially identified. Her name was Karen Watkins. She’d been a student at Else Bellows, a Pennyseeker on the verge of graduating when she disappeared. Foul play had been suspected, but no evidence was ever found.

Until now.

Cass felt like shit. Not just because she’d spent the past two days holed up in her room, afraid of encountering Karen’s traumatized revenant again, but because of the dreams. Or, more accurately, the nightmares. The few times she’d actually managed to fall asleep, Cass had kept jolting awake, clawing at her throat.

Cal had been there every time. He’d refused to leave her side after he witnessed the first one, and for the rest of the weekend, her twin watched her the way he used to watch her. Back when everything was fresh and awful, and Cass was drowning in the pain. He looked at her as if she were broken. As if she were hurting him.

Cass loved her brother, but her room was too small for the two of them. By the time Monday came around, she was almost relieved to leave for class. Then she’d reached the paths and started hearing all the conversations, the whispers, the tears. Crossing campus had been hell. It had taken everything Cass had not to turn right around and go back to Wayside.

“I hope she was able to move on,” she heard a girl say as she passed, walking down the center aisle of the classroom. The girl sniffled and leaned against her friend, who rubbed her arm comfortingly and made a sound of agreement. The rose pins on their blouses glinted—Dreamwalkers.

Cass slid into her usual chair on the far side of the room and thought about those big hands wrapped around her throat. She remembered the man’s strength as he squeezed tighter and tighter. Yeah, she didn’t think Karen was doing much moving on. Cass felt her heart accelerate and shied away from the memory, focusing determinedly on the textbook in front of her. Relief expanded in her chest when Professor Harkens swept into the room a moment later.

Professor Harkens was one of the senior teachers at the school, according to Sinister and the intel he’d given Cass on Friday night. Unlike Professor Green, who practically vibrated during her lectures, Professor Harkens was a force of calm. She reminded Cass of Headmistress Crane in how she spoke, her tone always firm and impassive. Cass supposed you sort of had to be detached, when you were filling your head with so much death and tragedy. Professor Harkens was like an encyclopedia of every terrible event that had ever occurred in the world.

“Today we’re going to talk about the reasons revenants get tied to sites or people,” she told the class by way of greeting. As the professor rummaged through her bag, her cool eyes moved over each of them. “There are six. Can anyone tell me the most common one?”

Hands shot in the air, and Professor Harkens pointed at a guy in the front row who’d used way too much hair gel that morning. “They died as a result of a traumatic event,” he declared.

“Very good.” The professor set a book on the desk and flipped it open. Cass caught a glimpse of neat handwriting on the page. “Events such as?”

Hair Gel Guy fell silent, and a girl near the middle spoke up. “Murder or suicide.”

“That is correct, Miss McDonald. What is another reason that prevents the dead from moving on?” Leaving the desk, Professor Harkens put her hands behind her back and started to walk down the center aisle. Her heels made a no-nonsense sound against the wooden floor.

“The revenant has unfinished business,” a boy from House Timekeeper volunteered.

“Thank you, Mr. Morrison. It should be noted that ‘unfinished business’ is a loosely-defined term. Documented Hauntings have proven a revenant’s unfinished business can range from an undelivered letter to a dream unfulfilled. As with most cases, it’s entirely contingent upon the individual revenant. What else?”

A student with blond ringlets and an Airweaver pin spoke up. “The revenant doesn’t realize they’re dead.”

Another nod from Professor Harkens. “This is common if the death was sudden or painless. These revenants also seem to be more prone to devolution, resulting in the violent or strange forms we’ll be discussing later in the semester. Does anyone know the fourth cause of a revenant?” she asked.

“The revenant is emotionally connected to their loved ones,” someone behind Cass answered.

Their teacher reached the back of the room, and everyone else turned in their seats to watch her. “Another widely-known phenomenon,” she agreed. “This is a tether we often see portrayed in media, and there is some validity to it. The bonds to our friends and family are powerful. However, it is not always love that causes a revenant’s energy to attach to someone. It can also be anger, or even hate. Unfinished business can coincide with an emotional connection, which makes untethering even more difficult. What is the fifth reason someone might resist moving on?”

There was a pause. Professor Harkens waited patiently, still standing with her hands behind her back. Eventually a voice piped from the edge of the room, “Fear of the other side.”

“Yes, very good. Many people believe judgment waits in the afterlife. A deep-seated terror of the unknown can also be a factor.” Professor Harkens scanned the room again, and her gaze landed on Cass. She felt her heart sink at the same moment the professor said, “Miss Ryan. Can you tell me the sixth and final reason that keeps a revenant in limbo?”

Cass felt the others looking at her. She lowered her gaze to her notes, but she didn’t need to read them to know the answer. “The living can’t let go,” she said.

“Excellent, Miss Ryan. You’ve obviously done the reading.” Professor Harkens shifted her focus to the next row and kept walking. As she started talking about Wednesday’s quiz, Cass absorbed the warm, fluttering sensation inside her—pride, she realized. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten praise from a teacher.

After that, Cass barely heard the rest of the lecture, and the next thing she knew Professor Harkens was saying, “Class dismissed.”

There was a collective burst of movement as everyone rose from their chairs or started to gather their belongings. Cass put her books away, pulled her jacket on, and threw her bag over one shoulder. The rest of the class began to file out the door, but Cass lingered at her desk, hesitating. After a moment, she forced herself to move into the center aisle and approach the woman at the front of the room.

“Professor Harkens?” she said.

The professor lifted her head. “Yes?”

“I heard that you’ve been teaching here for forty years.” Cass adjusted the strap of her backpack and lowered it to the floor.

“I have, yes. Forty-two, in fact.”

Cass mustered her courage and pulled the photograph out of her bag. The one she’d borrowed from the other lecture hall and had spent nearly every night staring at since. Cass’s heart felt uneven as she handed it to Professor Harkens and pointed at the figure on the left side. “Do you know who this is?” she asked.

Professor Harkens studied it for a moment, her silver brow creased. The silence stretched, and Cass could hear the clock on the wall ticking. Other sounds floated in from the hallway—voices, the squeak of shoes, laughter.

Cass fought the urge to fidget. She’d debated all weekend whether or not to ask Professor Harkens about the photograph. What if her teacher told someone she had it, or that Cass was asking questions about a dead student? None of it could lead anywhere good. And if anyone found out Michael existed, it was only a matter of time until they found Cal, too.

The second she had the thought, Cass felt a rush of panic. Shit. This had been a mistake. A huge mistake. She needed to—

“That’s Michael de Leon,” Professor Harkens said, making Cass snap to attention. The professor handed the picture back. “Tragic story.”

Cass’s heart slowed. Breathing easier, she glanced at Michael’s solemn face again before she tucked it back into her bag. Her mind latched onto the name and repeated it silently. Michael de Leon. “What happened?”

Professor Harkens paused again. As one moment passed, and then two, Cass struggled to hide the tension filling her shoulders. She’s wondering why I want to know about him, she thought. But once again, the professor surprised her.

“No one knows for certain,” she said finally. “His body was found off campus. Throat slit, badly beaten. The authorities ruled it a mugging, but it was also speculated if there was gang involvement. The case went cold.”

“Oh.” Cass felt a rush of disappointment. She didn’t know what she’d been hoping for, exactly. She stood there, trying to think of anything else she could ask. Something that would get rid of the tightness in her chest every time she thought about Michael… which had been happening more and more lately.

Suddenly Cass realized Professor Harkens was studying her with the same sharpness she’d given the photograph. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Miss Ryan?” the woman asked.

“No.” Cass’s heart accelerated again in a silent warning, and she quickly added, “Thank you for the information. I better go. Uh, great class today.”

Professor Harkens’s blue eyes were still intent. “I appreciate that,” she replied. “You’ve been an exemplary student so far. Keep up the good work.”

“I will.” Cass offered a tight, fleeting smile before she turned and walked away, trying to keep her shoulders down and move at a casual pace. Nothing to see here, nothing to hide. Cass didn’t look back when she reached the door, and then she stepped into the hallway, letting out a faint breath as the door closed behind her.

As her pulse returned to normal, Cass prayed she hadn’t just made a grave miscalculation. She mussed her bangs and started down the hall, heading for a set of ornate doors on the other end, which were covered in carvings of emblems from every house. Cass touched the tip of a bird’s wing in passing and walked into bright, open air.

Outside, the pathways had already started to clear, but there were still a few stragglers. A guy walked past Cass carrying a boombox. She tried to place the song as she scanned the courtyards and hedges, instinctively on the lookout for anyone—or anything—that didn’t belong amongst the living.

“Who is Michael de Leon and why are you asking questions about him?”

Cass jumped at the sound of Cal’s voice. Then his question registered, and her second reaction was indignation. He’d been at her class? He’d put himself at risk? She opened her mouth to snap back at him.

As quick as it had come, though, Cass’s anger abruptly faded. She was so damn tired. Tired of revenants, tired of fighting with Cal, tired of the lies. For a second, she considered just telling him the truth. Maybe if she didn’t make a big deal out of it, her brother wouldn’t freak at the revelation of another ghost in the house. Michael? Oh, he’s some guy that I accidentally attached to. It’s totally fine, I have it completely under control.

Yeah, there was definitely no chance Cal wouldn’t overreact to that.

There was also the fact that exposing Michael made something inside Cass wrench. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Cal, she told herself. Cass just knew him, and she knew what he’d say. She could already hear his serious voice in her head. We can’t trust him, Cass. He’s a stranger. I’ll figure out a way to get rid of him.

Cal was level-headed to a fault. When they were little, Cass used to make a game out of trying to piss him off. That was how she’d learned each and every one of his buttons. Hell, she’d probably made some of them. Her brother never retaliated, even when she’d truly deserved to have her ass handed to her. The worst he could muster were a few insults and scornful looks.

So a threat from Cal didn’t really mean anything, Cass concluded. She didn’t think he would really hurt Michael—hell, she didn’t even know if revenants could touch each other—but she didn’t want to find out. Her life was hard enough without adding this headache to it.

Cal was still waiting for her response. Cass forced herself to heave an annoyed sigh, as if she’d decided to let it go. She pointed her thumb at her backpack. “I found a photograph from the 1920s, and it got me curious about the history of Else Bellows. I’ve been meaning to ask you about it, too. I know you can’t see the others, but have you ever sensed any old students… around?”

“It’s not like we have a club,” Cal said. He believed her. As Cass’s body went loose with relief, his head turned, and Cass watched her brother’s eyes light up with interest. “Who’s that?”

She followed Cal’s gaze, and Cass felt her own interest pique. Teddy and Victoria were coming up the path. Neither of them had noticed her yet because they were locked in a low, intense conversation. They didn’t seem angry, though. Teddy wore an expression that said he was listening closely to whatever Victoria was saying. Were they getting back together? Cass wondered. And why did she even care?

Cal had wisely shifted out of sight. Cass left the sidewalk and joined him behind the hedge. “Down, boy,” she said. “Victoria Chen isn’t available, and you can’t exactly take her to the drive-in.”

Cal didn’t look at her. He peered through the leaves, and his expression was strange. “I meant the guy,” he muttered.

Cass frowned. “Who, Teddy?”

Before Cal could answer, someone else walked past. The sight of Finch made Cass forget the Teddy and Victoria drama. She went after her roommate with a concerned frown.

“Hey,” she said.

Finch turned to face Cass, her forehead scrunched with worry. “Oh, hey, there you are. The office called after you left. Headmistress Crane would like to see you after classes today. It seemed… important.”

As Cass absorbed this news, Cal appeared beside her, and she was too distracted to shoot him a glare. Thankfully, Finch gave no indication that she’d seen him. It felt like there was a stone in Cass’s middle, sinking slowly through her insides. What were the odds this meeting was a good thing? Low, Cass thought grimly. Extremely low. Maybe Professor Harkens had already squealed about the photograph, or Tammy told someone about their friendly chat the other night. Or it could be about Cass’s weird meltdown in Basics of Untethering. Really, it could be any number of things.

A warning bell rang nearby, the sound cutting through the crisp air. Three minutes until their next class started. Cass refocused on Finch.

“Did Crane say why?” she asked. Cass already knew the answer, but she had to ask anyway. Finch shook her head, and Cass let out a long breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Good luck,” Finch said as she turned away. Cass gave her a backwards wave of acknowledgement and continued in the direction of Fastly Hall, her mind still whirling about the meeting with Headmistress Crane.

“I’m going with you,” Cal said the instant they were alone. “The headmistress can’t see me.”

Cass kept her attention on the ivy-covered building that loomed in the distance. They were already taking too many risks, Cass thought, and she had a bad feeling in her stomach. Her voice was flat. “No.”

Cal stopped and spoke to Cass’s retreating back. “You can’t stop me.”

She halted. Slowly, Cass looked over her shoulder and stared at him. Cal’s expression was unreadable. They’d fought before, and he’d been pissed at her before. But he had never sounded like that before. Cass couldn’t describe it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

You’re tired, Cass thought hurriedly. She was just so fucking tired.

“Fine. I’ll see you later, then,” she said.

“Later,” Cal said, and he sounded normal again. Like himself.

But as Cass turned away, she felt cold. She continued the walk to her next class and replayed their conversation. Cal had been different since they’d gotten here, she thought. Her brother had never kept so many secrets from her, or spoken to her like she was a stranger. Just a few seconds ago, Cass was worried that talking to Professor Harkens was a mistake.

Now she wondered if the mistake had been coming to Else Bellows at all.