Page 89 of Waysider
Patrick Doyle was a demon.
A moment later, the glass wall between them shattered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
December 1st, 1984
San Francisco, CA
The Else & Bellows Institute
6:30 a.m.
Sunlight streamed through the window over Cass’s desk.
She opened her eyes slowly and watched dust motes float serenely through the air. As her mind flooded with memories from the previous night, Cass noticed a figure sitting at the foot of her bed. His face was turned away, but she recognized him instantly. Her brief flare of fear faded.
“Michael?”
He didn’t move. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands dangling, and Cass studied his profile. His dark brows were drawn together, his full lips pursed. Silence swelled between them, and a confused frown tugged at Cass’s mouth. Michael didn’t usually come near her bed—okay, he never came near her bed. Was he pissed at her or something? And where was Cal?
More images poured into her drowsy thoughts. Cass remembered standing in the attic of Old Main, staring down at Professor Clemens’s crumpled body exactly like Karen Watkins had. She remembered going downstairs and opening the door to chaos, the lawn full of people and flashing lights. The police were there, along with an ambulance. Relief had expanded in Cass’s chest when she saw Teddy with the paramedics, holding an ice pack to his head. He was okay.
Then Headmistress Crane came, wearing a silk robe, as if she’d rushed out of her house the moment she got the call about what had happened on campus. She stood next to Cass and the paramedic attending to her, then spoke under her breath, keeping her steely gaze on the uniformed men nearby. “They will come over here to interview you in a moment,” she said. “I feel I should tell you that the new chief doesn’t support parapsychology. He does not accept any eyewitness accounts that may involve the things we study here.”
Her meaning was clear to Cass, even in that moment of panic.
Cass glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. She had a meeting with the headmistress in an hour. Cass needed to get dressed. God, it felt strange to get up as if none of it had ever happened. She sat up slowly, the covers falling down her body. The movement jostled Cass’s injury, and she winced.
Michael was looking at her now, his expression still inscrutable. Cass didn’t know what to say. She was worried about Cal, and her head still hurt, and she wasn’t ready to talk about Professor Clemens or Karen Watkins yet. She was also tired of talking in general. She’d spoken to the police for well over an hour last night.
A whisper of anxiety went through her as she relived that conversation. None of the officers had been unkind to her, but Cass hadn’t been able to shake the sense they didn’t believe her. Not completely. In her defense, she’d had to make up a story on the spot, keeping into account that she didn’t know what Teddy had told them.
Professor Clemens had caught her alone after the test and attacked her, Cass claimed. Then Teddy Crane had shown up and tried to help her. She had raced into Old Main to hide. She’d been cowering behind the stairs when Professor Clemens ran in. Cass didn’t know how he died; she only heard it. Heard the terrible sound of his neck cracking. Cass hadn’t been faking her horror when she told them that part.
Conveniently, Professor Clemens hadn’t been able to defend himself.
Once the police were gone, Headmistress Crane had turned to Cass and said quietly, “My office, tomorrow morning. 7:30 sharp.”
Returning to the present, Cass refocused on Michael. She was about to mention her meeting when he finally said, “You almost died.”
Even now, Cass wasn’t sure why he sounded like that. Detached, as if they were strangers. Was he upset that he hadn’t been there to help her? How did he even know about last night, anyway? A split second after she had the thought, Cass knew the answer. Michael probably overheard someone talking about it, because this was Else & Bellows—here, gossip spread faster than the ivy covering its walls.
The memory went off in her mind again like a camera flare. Cass saw the knife in Professor Clemens’s hand. Teddy crumpling to the ground. The professor’s neck snapping at an unnatural angle, his feet dangling midair.
Cass’s voice was hollow as she replied, “Yeah. Almost.”
“I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything. You were just… gone.” Michael looked at her for another moment, and slowly, the hard mask he wore fell away. Cass saw a flash of fear and hunger in his eyes right before he stood.
Silence trembled in the dawn-tinted room. The only sound was the hushed rustle of skin against cotton as Michael reached into the covers and slid his hands around Cass. He picked her up without a word. She made a startled sound, but she didn’t protest. Michael sat on the edge of the bed again, put Cass’s legs against his hips, and then slid his hands around her waist. Before Cass could utter a sound, Michael pulled her against him, almost roughly. His waist lodged between her thighs. In an instant, Cass’s core was crushed to the rock-solid erection straining against Michael’s pants. She put her hands on his shoulders automatically, and his skin was warm, so warm. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She felt Michael’s breath on her skin as he bent his head.
This time, neither of them tried to fight it.
It was the best kiss of Cass’s life. She didn’t know why, exactly. She’d been kissed before, countless times. But there was something about the way Michael’s tongue felt. Something about the way he tasted. The way his hands flattened on the bare skin beneath her shirt and crushed her to his body as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His warm, solid body. Cass’s entire being flooded with heat, and she grabbed his head, pushing herself even harder against the man in her bed. She wanted this—wanted him. It had been so long, and she’d had no idea it could feel like this with a revenant.
Revenant.
The thought clanged through Cass like a warning bell, and she realized that she was doing exactly what she’d been warned not to. With every passing second, Cass was tethering Michael to the world of the living. To her. Uncertainty gripped her heart, and suddenly it was all Cass could focus on.
