Page 27 of Waysider
He saw a big, unshaven man filling a sagging doorway, holding a gun at his side.
He saw beams of sunlight shining around Laura and a guy in a hammock, the two of them entangled together, all long limbs and secret smiles. That memory had a tint of sadness, too.
Finally free again, Cal caught his balance on the other side of the small kitchen, feeling sick and dizzy all at once. Laura recovered faster—in his peripheral vision, her blurred shape stood upright. By the time Cal’s vision cleared and he was alone in his mind again, the voyant had fetched a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.
“Did it work?” Cal asked, hoping he sounded normal. But guilt and intrigue battled inside him. He felt like he’d just invaded a complete stranger’s privacy, and yet… he’d never experienced anything like that before. Of feeling someone else’s soul, and for a handful of seconds, knowing them better than he’d known anyone. Not just their memories or their secrets, but the essence of them. Laura Stag was guarded and wounded, that was undeniable… but she was also kind. Brave.
She reminded him of Teresa.
Cal’s question floated between them, but Laura didn’t answer. She gulped down the rest of her water, then set the glass down with a hollow thud. Cal watched as she walked over to the coffee table and bent, rifling through some magazines and papers piled on top of it. After a moment, Laura took a big sketchpad out. She found a half-chewed pencil next to the stack, picked it up, and sank onto the couch. Still not saying a word, she flipped the sketchpad to a fresh page and began to draw.
Curiosity piqued, Cal dared to draw close to her again. Whatever shape was taking form on the paper was too premature to study. The motions of Laura’s pencil never faltered, her lips puckered with determination, and Cal decided to let her focus. He sat in an armchair nearby, resting his elbows on his knees as he waited.
Ten minutes later, Laura straightened. She set the pencil down and flexed her fingers. Cal stood and leaned over the drawing. “Hey,” he said, surprised, “that’s really good.”
“Thanks,” Laura muttered, startling him.
It was a crude depiction, considering the portrait had been done in minutes, but Cal could still see the face clearly. He felt something hard and tight form inside him—it was the same feeling he’d gotten that night, when he spotted the figure standing on the bridge.
“Is this guy dead or alive?” Laura asked abruptly.
Cal raised his gaze back to her. “I don’t know.”
He had no idea if she’d heard him this time, but the voyant’s frown deepened, as if something else had occurred to her. “Why do you want to find him?” she asked.
Cal fell silent.
As if she could see his hesitation, Laura raised her chin. “I won’t help you until I know why.”
Shit, Cal thought. He could tell she meant it, not to mention that he’d felt her stubbornness, while the two of them had been… sharing. Cal knew he would have to give this girl part of the truth, if he had any chance at convincing her to help him.
At the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden, sharp burst of fear went through him. Fear that wasn’t his own. Cal completely forgot about Laura Stag as he jerked, his gaze darting in the direction of Else & Bellows. A single thought seared his mind, followed by the hot rush of panic.
Cass.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cass’s lungs burned as she arrived at the dining hall.
She paused in the doorway to catch her breath, hoping no one would notice her there. She’d run all the way from the chapel, and Cass wasn’t exactly an active person. She tried to absorb the sight before her, but her mind was still clouded by terror, and god, her body hurt. People who ran for fun were crazy.
The Else & Bellows dining hall was a long, beautiful room with high ceiling beams and tall windows. Between each pane of glass, enormous banners hung down to the floor, bearing one of the five symbols that were also on the golden pins everyone wore. Round tables were scattered throughout, a rug tucked beneath each one, lending an unexpectedly cozy feel to such a vast space. Multiple chandeliers hung above, and they looked like black iron. On the far side of the hall, opposite where all the food was, a fire crackled in a stone hearth. It was framed by two winged armchairs. Heat floated through the air, pushed even farther by drafts and the ever-moving crowd of students.
Despite the fire’s impressive reach, though, Cass couldn’t seem to get warm.
With her house key tucked firmly in her pocket, she moved to wait in one of the lines for food. It took all her willpower not to shiver. Cass put plates on her tray, barely aware of what she was taking. All she could see was the girl from the chapel. She’d run away faster than she ever had before, and Cass hadn’t seen the girl since, but she knew it wasn’t fast enough.
There would always be another revenant.
Either Headmistress Crane had exaggerated how ghost-free Else & Bellows was, or Cass drew them like magnets. She was screwed no matter what, unless she learned to fight back.
Once her tray was full, Cass showed a woman at the register a temporary student I.D. from the welcome packet—she’d been given a monthly allowance for meals. The woman nodded and waved her on, making a note on a pad of paper on the counter. Cass turned away and scanned the tables, looking for an empty one.
She didn’t give a shit about sitting alone, or looking like a friendless loser—Cass had stopped caring about those things a long time ago. She just wanted to get warm and slow her heartbeat a little. To be around people.
She went to one of the open tables near the fireplace. And there, once Cass sank into a chair and felt the gentle warmth on her back, she finally started to feel the terror ebb away. Tension leaked from her shoulders, and she let out a breath. Cass was surrounded by skilled voyants now. She was safe.
She definitely wouldn’t be going back to that chapel.
