Chapter 24
Mabel
My head was aching as I left my final supervision that afternoon.
It had been complete chaos in there for days.
I was constantly racing down different alleyways of thought, and every single one felt like a dead end.
Davie’s condition remained unchanged. According to his mother he had multiple broken bones as well as a traumatic brain injury, which was why the doctors had put him in an induced coma.
As soon as he was stable enough, they would take him off the meds and let him wake up.
Whether it would actually work, they couldn’t say.
They also weren’t sure if he’d be left with permanent damage, assuming he woke up at all.
And if he didn’t come out of the coma, then…
I was overwhelmed by a stabbing mix of panic and desperation, as always when my thoughts began to spiral into what ifs.
I knew it was pointless. I couldn’t help Davie like that.
The only real help I could give him was trying to figure out who was actually responsible for what happened.
The trouble was, I didn’t know where to begin.
Normally I’d have talked it over with Davie.
But Davie wasn’t in any condition to talk.
And the professor who might have given me more information to go on was dead.
Zoe was still miles away, although I hadn’t seen her leave our staircase for days.
She was constantly skipping class, leaving her seat unoccupied during lectures and seminars.
I often found myself staring at the empty chair, at the pattern of light cast through the windows, which reminded me of the deepening shadows on her face.
The last time I’d brought myself to ask her what was wrong, her response had been curt.
Apparently she’d been to the GP, but he’d found no medical issue and simply advised more sleep and vitamins.
Every now and then she asked about Davie, but as far as I knew she hadn’t been to the hospital herself.
To me that was decisive proof that there was a lot more going on than a slight vitamin deficiency.
Still, I hadn’t seen Ashton come round since the day of the accident, although I worried he might be dropping round when I wasn’t there.
It felt as though there was more than just plasterboard and brick between us – there were hundreds more walls Zoe had built up around herself.
I couldn’t get through to her anymore, and I didn’t understand why.
What he was doing to her to make her withdraw from her friends and isolate herself.
My temples pulsed. I pressed both hands to them as I hurried down the stairs. I couldn’t let myself wallow in the feelings swimming around at the bottom of all those dead ends, especially because I was facing them alone now. If I didn’t try to figure out what was going on, nobody would.
Emerging onto the steps outside, I stopped, took a deep breath, and forced myself to run through my to-do list.
Shed some light on how Davie’s accident happened.
Shed some light on what’s wrong with Zoe.
Shed some light on what else the League of Starlings is up to at Cambridge.
I just wished someone would tell me how you were supposed to shed light on anything when you were completely alone, trapped in a clinging, pitch-black darkness.
My fingers stroked the bulge in my coat pocket. I hated that I still carried the magpie around with me. I hated that it brought me comfort, although I knew now it was nothing but a way of manipulating me.
I’d heard nothing from Blake since that night at the sports ground, but I still caught myself every night, checking to see if he’d messaged. To say it had all been a lie. That he was on my side. That he was helping me.
But no message came, of course. Of course – I was alone.
As I turned a corner, I saw someone sitting on a low wall in one of the archways.
The young man had both legs pulled up, his back leaning against one stone column and his feet resting against the other.
He had rolled up the sleeves of his woollen jumper to examine his forearms. Even from this distance, I could see the skin was dry and blotchy-red.
Judging by the look on his face, it was as painful as it looked.
He was obviously in no mood for company, but I went up to him anyway, for the simple reason that I recognised him—even though I’d never met him before.
I knew him from the Instagram profile Cody had shown me.
I’d been wondering for days how and where I might be able to track down Jess Holden. I knew I needed to speak to him. Cody had been unable to tell me where he lived, and it seemed too blatant to lie in wait for him after a lecture. I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.
It wasn’t until I’d stopped in front of him that he looked up. ‘You’re Jess, right?’ I asked bluntly.
He cocked his head and surveyed me. I couldn’t quite read the expression that flashed in his greenish-brown eyes, unnaturally bright in his winter-pale face. ‘I’d like to say I’m not, believe me.’ He rolled down his sleeve with a sigh. ‘How can I help you?’
I pulled back my shoulders, summoning all the authority I had. ‘By telling the truth. About the accident you witnessed ten days ago.’
‘I already spoke to the police about that.’
I stifled a contemptuous laugh. The officers had told me the same thing when I tried to explain the truth to them.
They thought they’d already got to the bottom of it, because there was only one eyewitness and he had described it as an unfortunate accident.
In the end, it didn’t matter who was at fault, Davie or Victor. Neither was available for comment.
‘You lied,’ I replied sharply. ‘You said what they wanted you to say.’
Jess swung down his legs, which dangled. ‘And who are they?’ he asked with interest.
‘You know who. You were seen talking to them on the day of the accident.’ I took a deep breath, forcing myself to speak calmly.
‘Listen. I have no idea what they told you, but if they threatened you, you have to report it. They’re not all-powerful – nobody is.
If you go to the police, they’ll be able to protect you.
They can make sure no one else gets hurt. ’
The tip of Jess’s nose wrinkled, but I wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or amused. ‘Who says they threatened me?’
I paused, taken aback. What other reason could there be to lie for a group of unscrupulous bastards like them? What would motivate someone to do such a thing, if not fear? The answer was simple, even if I didn’t want to believe it. Power.
‘They promised you something,’ I realised. ‘But … if this is about money, then it’s even more straightforward. It doesn’t matter how much they offered you, you can’t accept it. Nothing in the world is worth selling your soul for.’
Jess gave a shout of laughter that made me jump, but in seconds my confusion had turned to rage. ‘It’s not funny! My friend was badly injured. He’s in a coma, and we don’t know if he’s ever going to wake up. We can’t let them get away with this.’
Jess ran a hand through his ash-blond, faintly greasy hair, then he drew up one leg and rested his chin on his knee. ‘The driver’s already been prosecuted. He’s dead – that’s about as punished as it gets, isn’t it? Surely that’s enough for you, love?’
‘Don’t call me that,’ I snapped, before forcing myself to take another deep breath.
‘And no, it’s not. For one thing, I know the driver of the second car involved in the race is still around.
No idea if it was Ashton Griffin himself or one of his friends.
’ Just don’t let it be Blake, a voice whispered in my mind, and again I hated myself for it.
‘Not that it matters – they’re all in it together,’ I reminded us both firmly. ‘And I want them held to account.’
Jess regarded me in silence. The corners of his mouth twitched, and part of me was sure he was suppressing another laugh.
Finally, he put his leg back down and leant forward.
As he did so, the neck of his moss-green jumper slipped down to reveal his collarbone.
On it was a tiny, strangely angular freckle.
It took a moment to sink in, because I really hadn’t seen it coming.
Then the sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and I stepped back.
There was a roaring in my ears – that freckle changed everything.
Because it wasn’t a freckle at all. It wasn’t a birthmark or a pigment disorder, and it wasn’t a mark left by a pen. It was a tattoo.
Dumbfounded, I looked back at Jess’s face. ‘That’s what they promised you? They’d let you join them?’
He tugged at his collar before jumping down from the wall. His eyes held nothing but irritation. I knew now this conversation was futile. He’d already picked his side. Still, I couldn’t just give up.
He tried to push past me, but I blocked his path. ‘You can’t really want that – those people are sick. They only ever bring bad luck, to the people around them and each other. Trust me.’
I grabbed his arm, and instantly recoiled.
Even through the fabric, his skin was so hot it felt like touching a stove.
He must have a fever. That would also explain the violet circles under his eyes and the strangely murky look in them.
Then there was the smell coming off him, which settled unpleasantly in the pit of my stomach.
Underneath the sharp scent of his aftershave lay something musty, almost … rotten.
I made to pull back, but this time he grabbed my arm and bent over me, so close that his forehead nearly grazed mine. ‘You trust me,’ he hissed into my ear. ‘Your curiosity is your greatest enemy, Anna Karenina.’
His breath was warm on my skin, but everything inside me froze to ice. I hadn’t thought I’d ever hear those two words spoken to me again. Not when the only person who had ever called me that was dead.