Chapter Twenty No heart among you
CHAPTER TWENTY
No heart among you
WE AGREED TO RECONVENE LATER that week. Kasem would do more research on his family history and report back with what he’d learned. But even though Kasem wouldn’t admit it, the only other person who might have information we needed, besides Alaster, was Jojo.
So, after classes the next day, I decided to explore the History Department, and Vivian, seemingly determined to be my friend, tagged along.
Unlike the School of Business, which had been newly renovated, the School of Humanities was brittle with age. The ceilings arched lower, the old light fixtures still capable of burning gas, while the hallways and floors were fixed together with scored stone tiling.
Most of the classrooms were empty except for a few evening classes taking place. In the department lounge, Vivian and I waited in line to speak to the receptionist at the front desk.
“Honey told me she invited you to Theta’s party,” Vivian said, glancing over the line to see how much longer the wait would be. “It’s the night before your birthday, right?”
“Were you eavesdropping?” I asked, even though she obviously had been.
“I have an ear for those things,” she said with a little shrug. “Are you mad?”
“I mean, I guess it’s better than you looking up my wiki.”
Vivian smiled, pleased with herself. “I don’t even know what that is, but I’m glad you’re not upset.” She glanced at me, tentative. “So, are you going?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Kasem will probably be there,” she said. “He’s Sigma. They’re brother and sister societies. You do know he’s a known player,” Vivian said. “But in case you’re unaware, he’s not a long-term kind of guy.”
I sighed. “Trust me. I’m aware.”
“I’m just saying that you spending so much time with people like him and Honey and their circles—it won’t help you like you think.
The Sigma and Theta crowds host these parties to lure people, but they don’t actually want any Poppies there.
That’s what happened to Nathan. At first he was a Poppy, and then he became wrapped up with the Ivies and Roses, and befriending people like Kasem. Next thing you know, he’s dead.”
“I made a lot of assumptions too about Kasem when I first met him. But he’s not like that. And what happened to Nathan was an accident.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Congratulations. You officially sound like a Westfield spokesperson. Funny how the Saint James family and the school always have an excuse for the accidents on campus but can’t seem to give an answer as to why they’re happening.”
“I’m not asking you to get involved. But I appreciate your concern.” And I did. I was used to doing things on my own, being alone. Vivian was nosy, opinionated, and a bit of an oddball, but nonetheless, I found that I enjoyed her presence, even if it wasn’t something I was used to.
“Just talk to Angelica,” she said. “If you’re thinking of rushing, Theta isn’t the kind of sorority you want to involve yourself with. ?nhye, our sisterhood, would be of much better help.”
We stopped at the front desk, and a receptionist interrupted our conversation to scan our ID cards. Vivian had left hers at her dorm, so she ended up shooting me a quick goodbye and leaving.
I slipped mine from my bag and pinged the digital reader. The device flashed brightly, a loading icon appearing on the screen as it analyzed my ID card before it turned red.
I cursed under my breath.
“Are you signed up for any department classes?” the receptionist asked. “You need to be either in the School of Humanities or taking one of its courses to enter the faculty and student lounges.”
“I’m in an elective,” I lied. “A history one.”
She gave me a blank look. “Then your ID card should’ve been recognized in our system.”
Quickly, I brushed my hand against the digital reader, and despite how much I’d been avoiding triggering my powers, I willingly let a vision wash over me.
The images raced through my mind: students tapping their cards on the screen and gaining entry, some being denied, and others typing their student numbers into the reader so the receptionist could look them up manually.
Jojo had been among the sea of faces that had entered the lounge earlier in the day.
The sight of him tore at my heart. I pushed further to days before, pain rippling against my head as I channeled until I found someone I thought I could pass as.
“Actually, can I try my student number?” I said, gasping as I drew away from the reader.
The receptionist looked concerned but didn’t voice it.
Instead, she glanced at her computer.
“Are you sure?” she said. “It’s reading your ID card, and it’s just saying you don’t have access. There’s no photo here, though. You might want to update your student profile.”
“I’m in the process of switching to the History Department, so my adviser, Professor Saint James, said it might give me some trouble in the beginning.” Name-dropping Alaster made my stomach curdle, but it’s not like I had much of a choice.
The woman’s eyes widened.
“Oh, my mistake. Of course. Try again.”
I typed in the student ID number I’d seen in the vision. The screen reader flashed green, but from behind the desk where the receptionist sat looking at her computer, she frowned.
“Emma?” she said, glancing between me and the photo ID of a Black girl who looked like she was in a punk rock band, piercings and all. She squinted for a moment. “What happened to your tattoos?”
“They were temporary. It was a phase,” I said, rolling my eyes for the bit.
The receptionist looked uncertain, but she waved me in.
Inside, the department lounge was less crowded. A few research scholars sat at desks with their heads bent over their computers, while others hunched over books and engaged in whispered conversations.
I spotted Jojo in the back, at a small table with two of his peers.
He chatted easily with them, even as he focused intently on transcribing information from a worn, leather-bound journal onto his computer.
When he glanced up and caught me watching him, he hesitated, closing the journal and slipping it into his bag as he waved me over.
“Sianna,” he said. “Good to see you here.”
Him performing this way in front of the other two researchers was infuriating.
“We need to talk.”
“My colleagues and I are actually in the middle of something.”
Ignoring him, I pulled out the letter I’d brought from my bag, the one I’d found in Jojo’s car with the bracelet.
“I know about the curse,” I said.
Jojo’s fake smile fell. He swallowed, glancing between the other researchers and then back at me.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
“What do you want to know?” Jojo asked.
Desperate for privacy, he’d drawn us chairs near a series of bookshelves that obscured us from view.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Where do you want to start?”
“That’s not specific enough, Sianna.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and leaning forward so others wouldn’t hear.
“How about the fact that you lied to me about who you are? That you haven’t even told me how you got the bracelet after the stabbing? Or maybe start at the family curse you and Kasem are bound to?”
“I don’t have a family,” Jojo said. “Kasem and I, as you are very aware, aren’t on good terms. Our father is dead and our mother is in no condition to support us, let alone herself. So, no, I wasn’t lying to you and Louisa.”
“But when I asked you about the Saint James family in the mall—”
“I told you the truth. My family is twisted and there’s a lot of pain and trauma we’ve been through. You of all people should understand what it’s like wanting to be known for more than just your name but for who you are, as a person.”
I recoiled at his words. “Don’t act like you know me. You don’t anymore. And don’t bring up my family.”
“Well, someone should,” he snapped. “You’re at Westfield, your dream school.
And instead of attending classes and being the brilliant performer you are, you’re wasting your time with my brother in private terraces.
And yes, I know about that. Everyone does.
They’re calling you his new toy. That or saying you’re trying to finish what you started in the alley. ”
“Well, I guess that means we have something in common,” I said, glaring at him. “Kasem thinks you’re the one who tried to kill him.”
“He can think whatever he wants. I couldn’t care less. But he has no right bringing you in this. It’s our curse, our family. If you’d attended Westfield on your own right, that would be different. But if you came here because of him—”
I held up the bracelet, cutting him off by showing him the translucent mark on my wrist.
“I came here because of this,” I said. “I’m bound to him now. So, no, I didn’t exactly have a choice. But my powers are unraveling, and until the curse breaks or I find some way to fix this, then it won’t matter whether I’m suffering in Westfield or somewhere else.”
I couldn’t describe it to him, the constant visions, the weight of them tearing at my mind, making me lose touch with reality.
“I don’t want to end up like her, Jojo,” I said, tears burning against my lashes. “She spent the last few days of her life paranoid and tormented by her powers. I don’t want that to be me.”
A soft light gleamed in Jojo’s eyes, like he could feel my pain as his own. He took my wrist, where the scar glimmered, tracing his hand along the length of it. My pulse was a thousand drums, beating to the tune of his heartbeat.
But then something snapped in him.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said, standing. “He shouldn’t have put you in danger like that. He knew better. He’s always so careless.”
Around us, heads turned in our direction.
I grabbed Jojo by the shoulder, yanking him back down and pulling away quickly before I could be thrust into a vision.
“It’s not his fault—”
“If you say that again, I will actually lose it, Sianna. I genuinely will. He put your life at risk. What happened in the alleyway? You didn’t just find him and call the paramedics, did you? You saved his life. Which means you were marked by the curse, marked to die.”
“But I survived. I’m protected,” I said, repeating Kasem’s words.
“Only from the curse directly targeting you. But Kasem is in danger, and you are too, as long as you’re near him. What if another accident happens? You could still die.”
“So then help us,” I said, frustrated. “Help us break the connection my powers have with his lifeline.”
“The only way I know of removing such a bond is if he dies or if you break the curse.” Jojo seethed. “And he’s going to, Sianna. You’re going to spend these next four months in torture because of your powers, risking your life and maybe getting hurt, just for him to die.”
He pulled off the bracelet. When he did, the scar on my wrist shimmered, more opaque than it had been before. All around us, the lights in the seating area began to flicker, dimming and flashing as a fog thickened in the air—as if some force beneath our waking world had been stirred from its sleep.
“That’s why he let you keep his beads of protection.
The bracelet is meant to be a ward against all evil.
But it can only do so much, and he’s putting the both of you at even more risk by not wearing the beads himself.
He has absolutely no protection from the curse and none of the wards the beads would have at least granted him. ”
“Does Kasem know that?” I whispered.
Jojo laughed. “Do you think he cares?”
Gently, he strung the bracelet back on my wrist. Beneath its touch, the mark turned translucent again, as if taking it off had weakened its ability to keep the mark at bay.
“Our ancestor Kent,” Jojo said, “the one who first helped found Westfield a long time ago, was given the beads of protection by his wife, Yara, a woman gifted with an affinity for charming objects. He was going to fight in the Civil War for the Union, in one of the Black regiments at the time. She wanted to keep him safe, so she made the bracelet, and over the years, she added little charms like the cowrie shells, and then the ring, after he inherited Westfield at the end of the Civil War, at the dawn of Reconstruction. It’s a family heirloom.
It can’t stop the curse from killing the heir or those marked by the curse, but wearing it does a good job protecting them. As much as it can.
“Kasem probably thinks having the bracelet won’t make a difference at this point,” Jojo continued, “but maybe he’s right to let you keep it.
You’re the first person we know who survived your fated death by the curse.
At the very least, while you wear it, you have the bracelet’s wards.
” His expression softened, reluctantly allowing himself to be pleased by something Kasem had done, if just for a moment.
But worry tore at me. This meant Kasem was in more danger than he might have been with the bracelet. Because of me.
“So, Yara was a witch?”
“Not a witch. One gifted with an affinity. We would describe it no differently than your affinity to see into timelines.”
“My powers aren’t a gift,” I said.
“I’m not trying to tell you how you should feel about it. But that’s how we would consider it.”
“So if she added protection charms to the bracelet, wouldn’t that mean she knew about the curse? Is there a way to find out more about her?”
“I don’t know much more than that. Our mother would, but she’s—she wouldn’t be able to speak of it. And me telling you all this doesn’t change my position about you being at Westfield or getting involved with our family.”
“Then why are you back at Westfield?” I asked. “Are you really working with Alaster, even though he obviously wants the inheritance?”
“The research I’m doing is about Westfield’s origins. I’m studying the important artifacts in the school’s collection, dating them, and tracing them back to the alumni who may be connected to them.”
“Which means that we can use what you find to help us break the curse. Instead of cozying up to the board of trustees or Alaster, help Kasem. Help me.”
Jojo clasped his hands together, his gaze darkening, like he was fighting something, something he wanted to say but couldn’t. When he looked at me again, my heart sank.
Whatever battle he’d been having with himself, the white flag of retreat fell heavy on him.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Sianna.”
“You don’t have to decide right now,” I said. “But think about it. Please?”
It took him a moment but then he nodded.
“I will.”
It wasn’t much, but the unease in my heart settled into relief. I smiled, hopeful for the first time.