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TOM GLANCED AT THE school and back at Steve, pleading. Can’t I just stay home today?
“No,” Steve said, his tone firm and unyielding. “Do you want me to go into the office with you?”
Tom shook his head and plucked the hospital note from Steve’s hand. I got it. He pushed the car door open and got one leg out before Steve grabbed his shoulder. He looked back.
“Remember, you’re supposed to be injured,” he whispered.
Tom nodded. Steve had lectured him all the way to school on the importance of keeping up pretense in this case. How could he forget? He stepped out of the car and made his way into the school, walking slower than his normal gait, with his head down and his books clutched in his arms. Before he entered the building, he cast a glance over his shoulder at Steve and received a nod before the car revved and shifted into gear.
Tom turned back to the hallway in front of him, willing his feet forward despite the dread crushing his chest. Paranoia wasn’t something he was used to and being this jumpy wasn’t good for appearances sake.
“Don’t worry little brother, I’ll back you up if something happens today,” CJ whispered in his ear and then stepped in stride with him like a protective bodyguard.
Eyes turned in their direction and most widened in shock at what they saw. The Ryan brothers sporting epic bruises, and Tom bit his lower lip to keep the smile from surfacing. Little did everyone know, these bruises were truly only skin deep.
CJ elbowed Tom, sending him a cross glare and Tom rolled his eyes, getting back into character as they crossed over the threshold of the office. Tom handed the note to the school secretary with his casted hand, keeping his gaze down.
“I’ll see that Mr. Fletcher gets this,” she said, her tone carrying a note of disdain at having to deal with the boy accused of murder and Tom raised his head, meeting her accusatory stare with one of his own.
He was not going to let anyone get to him. He didn’t do anything wrong and wasn’t about to act all meek and guilty. Not after the crap that happened yesterday.
Mrs. Simons actually flinched at his brazen glare and hurried away from the counter.
CJ turned away from the counter and he sent a smirk in Tom’s direction. You freaked her out, dude.
Good. Maybe people won’t fuck with me today. Tom sent the thought back and gave a nod, turned away from CJ, and headed towards his first class.
Call if you need me.
Tom glanced over his shoulder and nodded. If he got into trouble, he wouldn’t hesitate to call today, but he had a feeling he would be fine, especially since the assholes CJ whooped were still licking their wounds.
When he walked into the classroom, hushed murmurs filled the room and all eyes turned in his direction. Instead of adopting the timid demeanor he held yesterday, he sent a glare across the students, silently daring them to say something. When shocked silence filtered through everyone, Tom crossed to his desk and sat, painting a grimace on his face to keep the class clueless to his total lack of pain.
In the cafeteria, Tom went to the back table again, but this time, he sat on the other side, with his back to the wall and a view of the cafeteria. He opened his history book and busied himself with reading the next section, but his gaze kept jumping from the page to any motion within his peripheral vision.
A tray dropped on the table in front of him and he looked up, meeting the gaze of the tray owner. Raven Adams took the seat opposite him, her blue eyes locked on his and her pink lips posed in a smile.
“Do ye mind if I sit with you?” she asked, and a hint of her Irish accent bled through.
Tom nodded and scanned the room to make sure this wasn’t some kind of ambush.
“What they did to you yesterday was deplorable,” she said and dug into her turkey surprise with zest.
Tom stared at her freckled face and her wild red hair before his gaze dropped to the suggestive v-neck of her shirt before focusing back to his plate.
“Why a you hea?” he said.
“Because you’re sitting alone, and everyone is avoiding you like the plague. That’s usually reserved for me, so I felt sorry for you,” she said through a mouthful of potatoes.
Tom stiffened and slammed the book closed.
“Easy big fella,” she said and grinned. “No need to get all sanctimonious on me.”
The spark of humor in her eyes gave him pause and he cocked his head, studying her closer. “Aren’t you afraid of me?” he signed.
She chuckled and shook her head. “You kill someone? I just can’t see it, especially not that skinny bitch of a girlfriend,” she said.
“Hey,” he said and shook his head. “Don’t talk about her like that,” he signed.
Her gaze followed the symbols his hands made, and she shrugged. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t talk ill of the dead, but there was no love lost between us.”
Raven’s Irish brogue and sincere gaze calmed his aggravated nerves and he took a closer look at her, studying her for the first time. In a geeky Irish way, she was kind of cute, though her reputation around school bordered on crazy strange, but right at this moment all he saw was a misunderstood transplant from Ireland who had gotten a raw deal from the students at York High School.
“Are the rumors about you true?” he asked, bolder than usual, but the absence of friends and peer pressure alleviated all boundaries for him.
“What rumors?”
“Are you really a witch?”
“Yes, I’m a Wiccan. Look it up.”
Tom bit his lip, his gaze traveling around the cafeteria again. This time more than a few people were staring at him and they dropped their eyes when his passed over them. He glanced back at Raven.
“So, do you have a magic wand?”
For the first time, irritation swept over her features, turning her cheek bones into severe relief maps. “No. Wicca is a belief system. A nature-based religion. And while I appreciate your directness, I wonder whether you’re open minded enough to let go of your preconceived notions.”
Even the way she spoke carried an old world flavor, like a shot of single malt whiskey and he realized he didn’t want this conversation to end.
“I’m sorry,” he signed.
Her gaze traveled over him and around him and she nodded, saying nothing but taking the last bite of her meal and wiping her mouth with the napkin.
“You’re the only one in school besides my brother that believes I’m innocent. Why?”
She smiled and again her gaze seemed to trace an outline of him before meeting his again. “Your aura is pure.”
His eyebrows rose. “Wha?”
“I can see auras and yours is the purest I’ve ever seen. Your brother is just as unique, but in a different way. He is purity and power bound together by darkness and light, and the darkness in him has always scared me.” She glanced toward the table where the defensive line sat. “The rest of the team’s auras scream dicks.” She brought her gaze back to his. “I never understood what lured you to football, anyway. You never seemed to belong amongst that much negative energy.”
Tom smiled, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks and he shrugged. “I’m good at it,” he signed.
“You’d be better at soccer.” She pushed her tray to the side and balanced her chin in her palms. Her elbows propped on the table blocked his view of her freckled chest. “Then we’d all get to see a little more of you than that padded suit allows.”
This time he looked down at his empty tray and the heat in his cheeks increased. He wasn’t used to girls he didn’t know being this forward and he finally raised his gaze again.
“Are you hitting on me?”
One of her eyebrows rose and she glanced from his signed question back to his face with a barely concealed smirk. “Aw, honey, if I was hitting on you, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
Tom blinked in confusion.
A musical laugh belted from her lips and heads turned in their direction. “Don’t look so dejected,” she said when her laugh wound down.
In the three years he had been at York High School, he had never heard this girl laugh. If he had, he would have never looked any further. Her laugh was magical, and captivating and it struck him to the core. When the impact faded, guilt replaced it and he looked down, unable to meet her gaze.
Her hand slid across the table covering his. Her touch burned, like a fiery brand on his soul and for a moment, he believed everything would turn out just fine.
“We are not compatible,” she whispered, shattering his euphoria.
Tom pulled his hand away and sent a glare at her, the pain of rejection opening up the wounds in his heart. He grabbed his book and shoved it in his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, he marched out of the cafeteria.
He stopped just outside the front doors when his ankle bracelet beeped. Cursing under his breath, he turned and stepped back into the school, heading for the only other quiet area available.
The library.
Footfalls approached from behind and Tom dropped his backpack and spun, taking a ready stance against whoever was coming at him.
Raven skidded to a stop a few feet from him. “I did not intend to hurt you.”
Tom took a deep breath letting his pounding heart drop back into normal rhythm. He leaned down and picked up his backpack, gathering his thoughts. Once it was back over his shoulder, he signed, “Why aren’t we compatible?”
“You’re a fire sign and I am a water sign, we would be doomed from the start.”
“So, it has nothing to do with me being a half tongued mute?” he asked and cocked his head.
She stepped forward, placing her palm on his chest. “No. Your handicap doesn’t faze me in the least.”
He sent a sad smile her way. “There are things I can’t do,” he said, “And they seem very important to some people.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Where did you get that idea?”
Tom clenched his jaw and stepped back, unable to voice Tanya’s disappointment, or her break up speech. She had been fine with it at first, too.
“I can’t kiss,” he signed.
“Really.” She closed the distance and stretched on her toes, pressing her lips to his.
She tasted like salt and fruit punch and before she could break away, he pulled her close, opening his mouth under hers, allowing her tongue to explore. He knew it would only be a matter of seconds before she yanked away in disgust.
Her tongue tickled the roof of his mouth, like a feather, and he let her continue, his expectations dissolving with each feathery touch. This kiss was even more erotic and soul fulfilling than his lip lock with Tanya’s ghost yesterday had been. It melted every ounce of restraint and his hands moved, running into the soft wild curls of her hair, holding her lips to his. His heart reacted to her curious exploration, pumping harder in his chest and constricting his breath.
Her hands ran up his chest and around his neck and her breath quickened, drawing a sigh. When she pulled away from his lips, it was sexy slow, accompanied by a smile on her lips and a spark of hunger in her eyes, which was the exact opposite reaction from what he expected.
“Damn fire sign,” she muttered and grinned. “Whoever told you that you can’t kiss is an idiot.”
He pulled out of her arms and bit his lip against the monsoon of emotions caught in his belly and regions south. Guilt and want ate at his insides and he took a step back, creating a distance that allowed him to draw a breath and gain control over his carnal appetite.
Raven’s eyes widened at the area surrounding him and when her gaze landed on his, he had to remind himself to breathe.
“Wha?” he asked, curious as to what she was seeing.
“Your aura, it’s...”
“What the hell are you doing kissing this little whore?”
Tom’s head snapped to his right, his heart clanging in his chest at the manifestation tapping her foot in the hallway. His breath plumed in cold mist and he stammered trying to find an explanation. Without thinking, he took a protective step in front of Raven.
“Tanya, what are you doing here?” he said to the ghost chilling his soul.
“You haven’t answered me. What are you doing with that hussy?”
From behind him, a warm hand landed on his arm and the combination of Raven’s heat and Tanya’s chill caused a disturbance in the air. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Raven’s wide-eyed gaze.
He turned back to Tanya. “Go home. Now,” he whispered, and her face contorted into a vengeful mask, but she obeyed, fading into the air.
Tom ran a hand through his hair, shaken that she popped up now and he wondered if her spirit was forever attached to him. He took a breath and focused back on Raven.
“You think seeing auras is disturbing, try seeing ghosts,” he signed and sat on the nearest windowsill.
“Auras aren’t disturbing. Well, most of them aren’t but whatever that was, their aura was black like death.”
“That was Tanya,” Tom signed and inhaled at the sudden arch of her brow and the slight gasp. He exhaled and shrugged. “I don’t know why she’s haunting me, especially since she broke up with me the night before she was killed.”
Raven’s mouth popped closed and her eyes narrowed. “She was the one,” she said, her tone accusatory and angry.
Tom dropped his gaze and nodded.
“Shallow bitch.”