Page 38 of Waysider
With that, she set the chalk down and swung toward the door. Fuck this. She was done dealing with psychotic revenants tonight.
Cass had gotten halfway across the room when a wave of defeat crashed over her. She slowed, and a telltale prickle filled her eyes. God, she was useless. Tammy said the attic riddle was the easiest, and she’d already failed. Cass paused at the top of the stairs and pressed her arm against her eyes, trying to dry them. If she ran into anyone on the way out, she didn’t want it to be obvious that she’d been upset. Stop crying, Cass thought.
She failed at that, too—the room was so silent that Cass heard the wet plop of a tear dripping onto the wooden floor. She swore softly and took a soundless, shuddering breath. Then she opened her eyes, squared her shoulders, and lifted her head. Cass knew she probably couldn’t win the scavenger hunt at this point, but she could figure out at least one of the damn riddles. Cass pulled the list of riddles out of her pocket and skimmed them again. Fuck it, she’d go for the one with the highest point value.
If all the world’s a stage,
does it matter what rests in death’s cold page?
The first line was obviously referring to the auditorium. She’d figure out the next part after she’d had a chance to take a look around. Just as Cass was about to go down the stairs, she heard the chalk scraping over the board again, the hard tip softly tapping at the start of each new letter. Once the sound stopped, Cass took one more breath and turned, steeling herself to see some kind of insult or taunt.
Louis.
“Louis?” Cass read out loud, her forehead scrunching. “Is that your name?”
When no response came, she crossed the room again, going back the way she’d come. Cass stopped in front of the board again and waited for the revenant to say something else. She wasn’t sure why, since she’d gotten the answer to the riddle. She should keep going with the scavenger hunt, and seek out the next one. She’d need more than one point to win this thing.
But Cass reached for the chalk.
She was about to write her own name when a new sound clanged through the attic—a bell. The scavenger hunt was over. Cass must’ve been here longer than she realized.
Shit. She’d definitely lost.
With an exhale of relief, Cass turned toward the door. A startled jolt went through her when she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Jesus,” Cass breathed, pressing a hand against her thundering chest. She stared at the figure in the doorway. “You need a bell. Hey, I actually know where you can find one.”
Sinister Gray stood in the shadows. He didn’t speak. Part of his face was cast in shadow, but something about his silence felt weighted. After another beat, Cass realized he wasn’t looking at her—his eyes were fixed on the chalkboard. Shifting nervously, she glanced at the conversation written behind her. “Took me the entire time to get him to fess up, so I guess that’s it for me. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought the hunt was only for freshmen,” she added.
Silence. Sinister just kept staring at the board.
“Okay, well, I’m going to bed. Louis here gave me a headache.” Cass jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”
She gave Sinister another chance to respond, but even now, he didn’t speak. Cass felt a surge of annoyance, even stronger than the one she’d felt toward the asshole with the chalk. What was this guy’s problem? And why was he here? She didn’t bother asking again, since he clearly didn’t want to chitchat. Without a word, Cass brushed past the tall Shadowripper and hurried down the first flight of stairs, then the next.
On the ground floor, Cass sped walked toward the exit. After a few seconds, she sensed Sinister beside her. Cass hid her surprise, darting a glance toward his stoic face. Was the guy trying to protect her, or something? Maybe he just happened to be leaving at the same time as her. Sinister’s long legs kept pace with her short ones effortlessly, and she could smell his shampoo, or maybe it was cologne. The scent was subtle, masculine. It made Cass think of sandalwood, leather, and some kind of dark spice. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. No surprise there. Cass’s annoyance had dimmed, though.
Shit, she thought suddenly. Cass’s arousal faded into exasperation. Michael, Teddy, Sinister—one of them was fucking dead, and the others were ghost hunters, but Cass’s body didn’t seem to care. She really needed to leave campus and get laid. Soon.
Within moments, they reached the double doors at the end of the hall. Sinister startled Cass by opening one for her, standing to the side so she could pass. She paused on the steps, waiting for him, and they started down the sidewalk together. They neared the spot where everyone had regathered.
“I’m surprised no one else came upstairs,” Cass remarked, scanning the crowd for Bradley and Tammy. “Especially since it was the first riddle.”
She felt a soft touch on her arm, there and gone before she could automatically jerk away. Cass whirled toward Sinister just as he said, speaking to her for the first time, “Cass.”
His voice was huskier than she thought it would be. Cass searched Sinister’s dark eyes, hearing a note of tension that made her instincts come alive. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“No one has ever gotten the chalkboard revenant. Ever,” Sinister added, keeping his voice low, but he shouldn’t have bothered—everyone was listening to them, anyway. Staring at Cass. She watched the graceful movements of Sinister’s hands as he continued, “It’s been there since 1926. That’s why there’s no point value beside it. You get the attic riddle, you win the hunt.”
Confusion gripped Cass’s stomach like curled fingers, long fingernails digging deep. She gazed up at the Shadowripper with a furrowed brow. She could hear Sinister speaking again, but it felt like his voice came from far away. Only the last three words he said got through the fog around her brain.
“You won, Cass.”
Fuck, she thought, realization sinking in. Figuring out what all of this meant.
She was going on a Haunting.
Maybe she’d just pretend to get sick whenever that slip arrived.
