Chapter 33
December 1st, 1984
San Francisco, CA
The Else Bellows Institute
6:30 a.m.
Sunlight streamed through the window over Cass’s desk.
She opened her eyes slowly and watched dust motes float serenely through the air. As her mind flooded with memories from the previous night, Cass noticed a figure sitting at the foot of her bed. His face was turned away, but she recognized him instantly. Her brief flare of fear faded.
“Michael?”
He didn’t move. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands dangling, and Cass studied his profile. His dark brows were drawn together, his full lips pursed. Silence swelled between them, and a confused frown tugged at Cass’s mouth. Michael didn’t usually come near her bed—okay, he never came near her bed. Was he pissed at her or something? And where was Cal?
More images poured into her drowsy thoughts. Cass remembered standing in the attic of Old Main, staring down at Professor Clemens’s crumpled body exactly like Karen Watkins had. She remembered going downstairs and opening the door to chaos, the lawn full of people and flashing lights. The police were there, along with an ambulance. Relief had expanded in Cass’s chest when she saw Teddy with the paramedics, holding an ice pack to his head. He was okay.
Then Headmistress Crane came, wearing a silk robe, as if she’d rushed out of her house the moment she got the call about what had happened on campus. She stood next to Cass and the paramedic attending to her, then spoke under her breath, keeping her steely gaze on the uniformed men nearby. “They will come over here to interview you in a moment,” she said. “I feel I should tell you that the new chief doesn’t support parapsychology. He does not accept any eyewitness accounts that may involve the things we study here.”
Her meaning was clear to Cass, even in that moment of panic.
Cass glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. She had a meeting with the headmistress in an hour. Cass needed to get dressed. God, it felt strange to get up as if none of it had ever happened. She sat up slowly, the covers falling down her body. The movement jostled Cass’s injury, and she winced.
Michael was looking at her now, his expression still inscrutable. Cass didn’t know what to say. She was worried about Cal, and her head still hurt, and she wasn’t ready to talk about Professor Clemens or Karen Watkins yet. She was also tired of talking in general. She’d spoken to the police for well over an hour last night.
A whisper of anxiety went through her as she relived that conversation. None of the officers had been unkind to her, but Cass hadn’t been able to shake the sense they didn’t believe her. Not completely. In her defense, she’d had to make up a story on the spot, keeping into account that she didn’t know what Teddy had told them.
Professor Clemens had caught her alone after the test and attacked her, Cass claimed. Then Teddy Crane had shown up and tried to help her. She had raced into Old Main to hide. She’d been cowering behind the stairs when Professor Clemens ran in. Cass didn’t know how he died; she only heard it. Heard the terrible sound of his neck cracking. Cass hadn’t been faking her horror when she told them that part.
Conveniently, Professor Clemens hadn’t been able to defend himself.
Once the police were gone, Headmistress Crane had turned to Cass and said quietly, “My office, tomorrow morning. 7:30 sharp.”
Returning to the present, Cass refocused on Michael. She was about to mention her meeting when he finally said, “You almost died.”
Even now, Cass wasn’t sure why he sounded like that. Detached, as if they were strangers. Was he upset that he hadn’t been there to help her? How did he even know about last night, anyway? A split second after she had the thought, Cass knew the answer. Michael probably overheard someone talking about it, because this was Else Bellows—here, gossip spread faster than the ivy covering its walls.
The memory went off in her mind again like a camera flare. Cass saw the knife in Professor Clemens’s hand. Teddy crumpling to the ground. The professor’s neck snapping at an unnatural angle, his feet dangling midair.
Cass’s voice was hollow as she replied, “Yeah. Almost.”
“I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything. You were just… gone.” Michael looked at her for another moment, and slowly, the hard mask he wore fell away. Cass saw a flash of fear and hunger in his eyes right before he stood.
Silence trembled in the dawn-tinted room. The only sound was the hushed rustle of skin against cotton as Michael reached into the covers and slid his hands around Cass. He picked her up without a word. She made a startled sound, but she didn’t protest. Michael sat on the edge of the bed again, put Cass’s legs against his hips, and then slid his hands around her waist. Before Cass could utter a sound, Michael pulled her against him, almost roughly. His waist lodged between her thighs. In an instant, Cass’s core was crushed to the rock-solid erection straining against Michael’s pants. She put her hands on his shoulders automatically, and his skin was warm, so warm. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She felt Michael’s breath on her skin as he bent his head.
This time, neither of them tried to fight it.
It was the best kiss of Cass’s life. She didn’t know why, exactly. She’d been kissed before, countless times. But there was something about the way Michael’s tongue felt. Something about the way he tasted. The way his hands flattened on the bare skin beneath her shirt and crushed her to his body as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His warm, solid body. Cass’s entire being flooded with heat, and she grabbed his head, pushing herself even harder against the man in her bed. She wanted this—wanted him. It had been so long, and she’d had no idea it could feel like this with a revenant.
Revenant.
The thought clanged through Cass like a warning bell, and she realized that she was doing exactly what she’d been warned not to. With every passing second, Cass was tethering Michael to the world of the living. To her. Uncertainty gripped her heart, and suddenly it was all Cass could focus on.
Michael must’ve sensed the change in her, because he drew back instantly. His dark eyes gleamed with concern. But when he saw her expression, the concern gave way to a look Cass was beginning to recognize. It was like a door closing, or the sun retreating behind a cloud. Cass felt a searing rush of regret and panic. She wanted to tell Michael that it didn’t matter, any of it. The fact that he was a ghost, and she was a ghost-hunter-in-training. The fact that he was dead and she was alive.
But it did matter.
So Cass cleared her throat and got off him. Michael helped her immediately, and then he went over to the window, putting distance between them. It was only a few feet, but it might as well have been miles. Shifting awkwardly, Cass mussed her bangs and shoved every feeling down until all she felt was a muted, muffled ache.
“I should go. I have a meeting with Headmistress Crane.” Cass started to move toward the door, but then she hesitated, realizing there was something she needed to know. She didn’t have the right to ask Michael for favors, Cass knew that. But when it came to Cal, she’d be an asshole. She forced herself to say, “Have you sensed my brother lately? He didn’t show up last night, and he always shows up. Always. I think something might be wrong.”
Michael only paused a moment before answering. “No, I haven’t. But I can look for him.”
“I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.”
They stood there for another moment. Cass’s lips were still swollen from Michael’s kiss and his hair was mussed from her fingers. They couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened, or go back to the way things were. But they had to. For his sake… and for hers.
“I’ll see you later?” Cass said, but it came out like a question.
This time, Michael was silent. She couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t remote, as if he were a stranger again, but there was none of the shy warmth she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her lately.
Then he nodded. Cass felt something inside her loosen, and she swallowed a sigh. She started to say something, anything to ease the tension between them.
Before she could, Michael vanished.
Cass got dressed and walked across campus.
It was a gray morning. The silence, combined with the empty paths, set Cass’s instincts on edge. Not to mention that it had only been a few hours ago that she’d been running through this place with a killer on her heels. Cass climbed the stairs to Old Main quickly, and a gust of wind nearly made her lose her footing as she pulled the door open.
There was no one at the front desk, but Cass could hear voices on the other side of the door, which meant she wasn’t getting out of this meeting. Damn. Cass stood there for a moment, uncertain what to do. Should she knock? Sit in one of the chairs and wait?
She chose the latter.
Cass tried to ignore the sounds coming from Headmistress Crane’s office, but it was kind of impossible. The headmistress was arguing with someone. Neither of them were shouting, but Cass could hear how sharply they spoke. The threads of tension weaving through every word. Cass clasped her hands and let out a breath, looking around for something else to focus on. All she could find was a copy of Good Housekeeping resting on the coffee table in front of her, and Cass wasn’t that desperate. She directed her gaze at the ceiling and started counting the tiles. Snatches of the argument reached her, something aboutcoming home and family.
Minutes later, the door finally opened. Cass sat straighter, but it wasn’t Headmistress Crane that came out—it was Teddy.
All at once, she was reliving the whole thing again. She remembered the last words Teddy had spoken to her, his eyes wild with pain and fear. Don’t let them take me to the hospital.
Cass had been too focused on surviving to think anything of it, but now she wondered why those had been the first words out of Teddy’s mouth after he was hurt. Maybe he just had an aversion to hospitals. Every voyant had encountered death and trauma, and Cass didn’t know Teddy Crane’s. So she didn’t ask about it.
“I never got a chance to thank you,” she said.
He instantly shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Hey, you have nothing to thank me for. Really.”
“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be standing here if you hadn’t shown up.” Cass gave him a faint smile. “You’re a good friend.”
Teddy smiled back. Dimples appeared on either side of his mouth, and his perfect teeth flashed white in the dim light. “You would’ve done the same for me. Everything okay?” he asked.
Cass heaved a teasing sigh. “You’re never going to stop asking me that, are you?”
“I only ask because you’re waiting outside of my mom’s office,” Teddy pointed out.
Before Cass could respond, the door opened again. Headmistress Crane emerged, looking as tired as ever. “Thank you for your patience,” she said. “I’m ready for you, Miss Ryan.”
Good luck, Teddy mouthed behind his mother’s back. Cass shot him a pleading look back, as if to say, save me. He responded with a helpless, sympathetic smile.
Slow with reluctance, Cass rose and followed Headmistress Crane into her office. The headmistress closed the door and turned again, walking gracefully over to her desk chair. She spoke as she sat down. “First things first. How is your injury?”
Cass sat in the same spot she’d chosen the last time she had been in this room. “It’s fine. I mean, it hurts, but the pain is manageable,” she said.
“I’m happy to hear that.” The headmistress paused. “We need to discuss last night, Miss Ryan. Something tells me the events didn’t happen exactly as you told the police.”
Cass’s fingers tightened on the armrests. She might have been in the same chair as her last visit, but there was one huge difference this time. Cass couldn’t help glancing at the chair beside her and wishing Cal was there. As Headmistress Crane continued to wait for her response, Cass clasped her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t fuss with her bangs.
It was her first instinct to lie, and feed the headmistress some bullshit about the attack being random. But then it occurred to her—did she actually have to cover anything up? Headmistress Crane wouldn’t accuse Cass of being crazy, like those people back in New York. Karen Watkins was finally at peace, and Cass’s private investigation was officially closed, so there was no need for the headmistress to intervene or try to stop her.
Her decision made, Cass raised her head and met Headmistress Crane’s gaze.
She told her everything. Well, everything about Karen Watkins, at least. Cass left out the parts about Michael. She still couldn’t shake the sense that she’d be endangering him if anyone ever found out about their strange connection.
Cass also left out the fact that she’d blackmailed Victoria Chen, and drank a vial of See to provoke an encounter with a revenant. Something told her Headmistress Crane wouldn’t be too crazy about that part.
When she was finished, the headmistress sat exactly as she had been at the start of Cass’s account. Back straight, shoulders squared. But something in her expression had changed. Gone was the brisk, professional demeanor. In its place was something unnervingly close to fear. The clock on the mantle ticked for several seconds.
“Revenants are drawn to you, Miss Ryan. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Headmistress Crane said at last.
Cass’s stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”
The headmistress still looked troubled. “Karen Watkins was killed decades ago, yet it was you who was present when she broke free. And then there’s the revenant in the attic. Countless attempts were made to communicate with it, practically since the inception of this institution. The best voyants in the world failed after implementing every tactic in existence. Yet it was you, Cassandra Ryan, whom the chalkboard revenant spoke to.
“To be frank, I’m not entirely sure what it means,” Headmistress Crane admitted. “But I do know one thing. We should make some adjustments to your class schedule next semester. I am recommending to your professors that we expedite your education, for everyone’s sake. Yourself… and the students around you.”
Another whisper of unease drifted through Cass’s veins. The only thing that set her apart from other voyants was her connection to Michael and Cal. Was that the reason her abilities were so heightened? Headmistress Crane knew about Cal. Had the same thing already occurred to her? Cass gripped the armrests tighter for a moment, then forced her grip to loosen. She wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible, and if she showed any fear, it might prompt Headmistress Crane to keep talking.
“Well, now you know the truth,” Cass said. “That’s what happened last night. It was terrifying, and I’m tired. I’m really tired.”
The headmistress studied her with a worried frown. “I suppose we can conclude this meeting. In the future, Miss Ryan, you will report any revenant sightings or… incidents. And please don’t hesitate to come back if you remember anything else,” she added, rising.
Cass said something polite back, but she was so eager to go, she was barely aware of the words leaving her mouth. She managed to walk out the office calmly. Even when she reached the hall and spotted the doors, the window panes bright with daybreak, Cass didn’t run like every part of her wanted to. Besides the fact that someone could see her and report back to Headmistress Crane, Cass didn’t want to freak out Cal. Wherever he was, he would feel her fear and come running, regardless of the risk he’d be taking. So Cass stepped outside calmly, and went down the stairs with loose, measured steps.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Cass spotted her brother’s familiar outline farther down the path. He was coming from the direction of the street. Cass hurried toward him, her shoulders filling with tension again. Her stoic mask began to crack. Once they got close enough, she snatched Cal’s arm and dragged him off the path. They took a shortcut back to House Wayside, cutting through yards and between other dormitories.
Cass waited until they’d gotten back to her room, the door closed firmly behind them.
“Where have you been?” Cass demanded. When he opened his mouth to answer, she held up her hand. “And before you lie to me again, don’t. Just fucking don’t. I’m done with the lies, Cal.”
Cass stopped, finally giving her brother a chance to respond. But Cal was staring at her ribcage. Cass followed his gaze and realized her shirt had risen when she lifted her hand. Part of the bandage was visible, the white gauze already stained with blood. She pulled her shirt back down and looked up at Cal. “I got lucky.”
“I didn’t sense anything last night, Cass, I swear to you. I figured you’d go home after the test, and hang out with your roommates until I was back. If I’d known… what happened?” His voice had that too-careful way about it, like he was trying to be casual. Cal still wasn’t a good liar, despite all the practice he’d gotten lately. He waited for her answer, and something in his posture said that Cal expected her to lie, too.
But Cass was tired of lying. She was tired of a lot of things.
What the hell, she thought. Cass moved over to the chair, knowing that if she sat on the bed, she’d be tempted to lay down and avoid all of this. She faced her brother with an expression of resolve. For the second time that morning, Cass told Karen Watkins’s story. Well, she supposed it was her story now, too. Cal listened without interrupting, and he stood in the place Michael usually stood when he was here—next to the window, his face glowing within a slant of sunlight. Cass was strangely unsettled by it, but she focused on what she was saying. She wanted to get every detail right so that she never had to talk about it again.
Once she was done, Cal turned his head and peered through the glass. “How long has this been going on?” he asked.
Cass didn’t want to answer, but she’d already come this far. Might as well lay it all on the table. “Pretty much since we got here,” she said.
After a few seconds, Cal shifted toward her again. Cass waited for him to yell, or ask more questions. Instead, he just kept looking down at the place where she’d been cut. Cass could tell from the look in his eyes that her brother was realizing how close she’d come. How close they had come to never seeing each other again.
Maybe that was why he finally told her the truth, too.
Cal raised his gaze and looked her in the eye. “I’ve been looking for the guy that tried to kill you,” he said.
Cass blinked, and her mind replayed the words. The guy that tried to kill you. Understanding sank in. The boy on the bridge. The villain in all her bad dreams. Cass fought the memory of that night, but she caught glimpses of it anyway. Dark skies. The black river. Tears glistening on a curved cheek.
Terror exploded through Cass, quickly followed by a rush of fury. “Why the hell would—”
“They never found his body, Cass. That means he’s still alive out there somewhere. He targeted you. What if he comes back and tries again? What if he goes after Gavin next time? Or Mom and Dad?”
They were questions Cass had asked herself, too. Everything inside her wanted to tear into her brother, but she knew another fight might push him away. She couldn’t risk it, not when he was finally opening up to her. Cass forced a barrage of questions back and allowed herself to ask only one. The most important one. “Did you find him?”
Cal’s jaw clenched, his blue eyes flashing with frustration. “Not yet. Found out his name, though. Ricky Ramirez.”
“And what do you plan to do with—” Cass started.
Knocking cut her short. Only one person ever came to her room, so Cass immediately knew who stood in the hallway. She didn’t look away from Cal, and she didn’t move toward the door. “Now isn’t a good time, Finch,” she called.
Her roommate’s voice floated through the wood. “Someone is on the phone for you.”
“Tell them to call back, then.”
A pause. “Okay. But… he said to mention that he has information on someone named Ricky Ramirez.”
For an instant, Cass froze. She heard Cal say something, his voice full of disbelief, but Cass couldn’t make out any words past the roar of adrenaline in her ears. Then a rush of urgency hit her. Cass shot out of the chair and yanked the door open, blurting in her roommate’s startled face, “Thank you!”
Cass pushed past Finch and into the hall. Her mind raced as she hurried down the two flights of stairs. Was someone playing a prank, or had Ricky actually tracked her down here? What else could he possibly want from her? Cal wasn’t far behind, and he followed Cass into the kitchen. The room was buttery with morning light, and Tammy and Bradley sat in the breakfast nook. Their spoons clinked against their cereal bowls. For once, Cass was too distracted to yell at Cal about the risks of her roommates seeing him. She made a beeline for the phone, and the serene glow of the room was at odds with the panic clawing at her from the inside.
Cass grabbed the phone off the counter and pressed it to her ear, willing her voice not to shake. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Miss Cassandra Ryan?” a male voice said. Cass didn’t recognize it.
“Yes,” she answered curtly. “Who is this? What do you know about Ricky Ramirez?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Ryan. My name is Dr. Phillips. Personally, I know nothing about Mr. Ramirez. I’m the general administrator here at Lane County Security Hospital, and I’m contacting you on behalf of one of our patients.”
Security hospital? Cass thought blankly. Wasn’t that sort of place meant for really intense criminals? Feeling her roommates’ eyes on her, Cass turned away. She stepped over the cord and tugged it behind her, moving into the hallway. Cal followed, his expression more intense than she’d ever seen it. Once Cass was out of earshot she lowered her voice and demanded, “Is this some kind of joke?”
The doctor paused. As Cass waited for him to respond, she shifted restlessly. Movement drew her gaze, and Cass felt a startled jolt when she realized there was a mirror hanging on the wall across from her. Although Cal stood right beside her, she was alone in the glass.
“This is not a joke, Miss Ryan,” Dr. Phillips said. “And I want to make it clear that you can refuse if you want to.”
“Refuse what?”
He cleared his throat. “There’s a patient here who’s been asking for you. Normally, I would never allow visitors, and I wouldn’t ask someone to put themselves in such a dangerous… situation. But short of constant sedation, I’m out of options. The demands have become, uh, worrying.”
The halting way he spoke made Cass’s impatience fade. She knew fear when she heard it. Cass looked at her reflection, and she watched herself frown. “I’m sorry, what did you say the patient’s name is?” she asked.
“I didn’t.” The doctor cleared his throat again. “The patient’s name is Patrick Doyle.”