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Death, Doom And Detention Part 15

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Granddad recovered first. "Yes, well, you definitely have the cleft from your dad's chin. That's a signature McAlister trait if I ever saw one. Right, Vera?"

When Grandma didn't answer, he elbowed her. "Right," she said, jumping to attention. "Signature. Spitting image. You know, chin-wise."

"Do you think there are pictures of them somewhere?"

"Well, there are some records stored in the bas.e.m.e.nt," she said. "There might be something in there."

"Cool. I might check it out later. Just out of curiosity." I practically had their permission to snoop now and felt better for it.



Brooke thinned her mouth, admonis.h.i.+ng me with her furrowed eyebrows. I stuck out my tongue, then proceeded to ignore her.

At least until Cameron came in. "The truck's warm," he said.

"If you guys don't get cold," Brooke said to him, picking up her backpack, "why do you wear jackets?"

"It's frowned upon in society to walk around without a jacket. I used to catch all kinds of heck in grade school. Now I just get odd looks. It's easier to conform."

"Oh." She strolled out the door with the rest of us behind her.

"Have a good day, pix," Grandma said, her voice full of hope.

"You too," I whispered without looking back.

Jared met us at Cameron's truck, wearing his bomber jacket and jeans. His wide shoulders filled the jacket so nicely, and the brown color went well with his height.

"Hey, you," he said, and I melted a little inside. He was already almost completely healed, at least the parts of him I could see.

"Hey."

He reached out and brushed a thumb over my mouth.

An electrical current shot through me with the contact.

"You look nice."

His hand was warm against the crisp day. "Thank you."

He looked past me. Cameron had stopped and was a.s.sessing him with his signature glower.

With a boyish smile, Jared raised his hands in surrender. Then he opened the door for me, but from the corner of my eye, I noticed him look back at the house as though checking to see if my grandparents were watching. Then he turned and spit into the mud. A very guy thing to do, but just odd.

"At least the sun's out," Brooke said when she climbed in through Cameron's side.

Glitch strode to his car without so much as a by your leave. He was getting so moody.

I scooted to the middle to make room for Jared. He slid in and closed the pa.s.senger-side door. The warmth of his body seeped into my clothes.

"So, these descendants don't sound very smart," I said, trying not to let my worry filter into the tone of my voice. "I mean, who would be dumb enough to jump you? Besides Cameron, that is."

Cameron tossed me a scowl as he pulled onto Main. He was a master of scowls. Probably invented several of the more defiant scowls so popular with kids today.

In response, Brooklyn flashed her version. "She's just being honest. If you'll remember, you guys made a mess of downtown Riley's Switch a while back. Not just anyone could have done that."

Brooke was right. When Jared showed up a couple of months back to take me when I'd been dying, Cameron knew what he was. And since Cameron had literally been created to protect me, he didn't take kindly to Jared showing up to take my life. Not without an appointment at least. The two of them fought like two G.o.ds h.e.l.l-bent on destroying our small town.

They may have laid aside their differences to figure out this war thing, but the animosity between them hadn't subsided completely.

With a shrug, Cameron conceded to Brooke's logic.

But Jared was still eyeing him, a hint of provocation in his expression. "I guess there were just more of them than I'd expected. I let my guard down."

Cameron spoke then. "What kind of archangel can't handle a few watered-down descendants?"

Jared latched on to that like a bully trying to pick a fight. "The kind that can stop your heart before you have time to blink."

Brooke looked over at Jared as we pulled into the parking lot. School was only three blocks away from the store, but riding in Cameron's warm truck was way better than not riding in Cameron's warm truck.

"Could you guys not start this c.r.a.p again? It's been weeks. Why the sudden animosity?" When Jared turned to look out the window, she said to me, "See, everybody's acting strange."

And she was right. When we got out, everything got even stranger. Well, not immediately. For the most part, it was a typical Tuesday. Kids standing in their respective groups. Teachers hustling to their cla.s.srooms, ma.s.sive coffee mugs in hand. Princ.i.p.al Davis glaring. Just a regular day at Riley High.

Until we stepped inside. While kids were there as usual-raiding their lockers, walking to cla.s.s-unlike usual, the halls were deathly quiet. Eyes were cast downward and movements were hurried, wary.

"Dang," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. "Is there a new no-talking rule in the halls?"

"I hope not," Brooklyn said, reading a text on her phone as we wound through the stoic crowd. "Your grandmother says hey."

"She's texting you now too? That woman is a menace."

"She's funny," Cameron said, sticking to us like a Post-it note. He took his job as protector very seriously.

"I'm glad you think so."

Spotting Hector Salazar, a kid I'd known since kindergarten, leaning against his red locker, I waved a quick h.e.l.lo. He was a bona fide nerd and proud of it to the point of arrogance, but I never held it against him. He was smart. He knew it. Who was I to argue? Super smart or not, though, he usually waved back. Instead, he lowered his head and stared at me, his gaze expressionless.

"What the heck did I do to Hector?" I asked no one in particular.

"What?" Brooke barely looked up from her phone, but Cameron took hold of my arm and pulled me to a stop. He was really strong. Like supernaturally strong. So I stopped fairly quickly.

"What did you say?" he asked.

I looked up in surprise as Brooke turned back to us and Jared came closer to hover and stare menacingly at Cameron.

Suddenly self-conscious, I said, "Hector gave me a really odd look."

Cameron straightened and eyed the crowd from his perch atop his shoulders. Man, that guy was tall. "What kind of look?"

Jared did the same before giving me his attention again.

"A look. I don't know. I waved and he just stared." I lifted a shoulder. "I haven't done a thing to him since the first grade. And that was totally his fault. I mean, I'm all for sharing, but there's sharing and then there's robbing your cla.s.smates blind."

Brooke laughed. "What did he want from you?"

"My blue construction paper. All of it. Honestly. It's not like construction paper grows on trees."

Cameron appraised the crowd before parking his gaze on Jared. Jared returned the sentiment and the glower-fest began anew.

I elbowed Brooke and she glanced up to take in the stare-down before questioning me with raised brows.

While Cameron's eyes were filled with uncertainty, Jared's were narrow, challenging. Again, it was so unlike him and, well, more like Cameron. Their roles had been switched. What on former planet Pluto was going on?

"Where's Glitch?" Brooke asked, checking around.

"He had to go straight to cla.s.s," Cameron said before stalking past us.

We followed. "Really? He didn't say anything."

"I don't see the new kid. Let's just get you to science." Normally, getting to cla.s.s was not one of Cameron's priorities.

The boys seemed to be lost in thought as they walked us to first hour. We stopped outside the cla.s.sroom, and I turned to say good-bye to them. Well, mostly to Jared. I wondered if there was a chance I could see what had actually happened to him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked him, inching closer.

His smile faltered and he camouflaged any emotion behind an empty expression. "I'm certain of it."

"Can you tell me what's going on?"

He crossed his arms at his chest. "No."

I leaned forward and put my hand on his. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

He raked his teeth over his bottom lip and stared intently. It was the s.e.xiest thing I'd ever seen. Then, with his beautiful mouth tilted up at one corner, a playful grin sparkling in his eyes, he asked, "Are you getting anything?"

I dropped my hand and rolled my eyes.

A deep laugh, soft and gorgeous, sounded in his chest.

"How do you always know?" I exhaled loudly and gave up. "Never mind."

He took my jacket and pulled me closer to him. "You're giving up?"

The world tumbled in my periphery, dissolved into nothing. "No." Then when I could catch my breath, I said, "Never."

"We need to get to cla.s.s," Cameron said, completely breaking the spell I was under.

We turned in unison to look at him. Mostly because he was standing really close.

Brooke stepped closer as well, shouldering between Cameron and Jared. "Are we in a huddle for a reason?" She glanced at each one of us in turn. "I don't want to be left out of the loop."

Jared's mouth softened into a breathtaking grin. He reached over Brooke and shoved Cameron backwards. Not hard, just enough to let Cameron know he was not welcome.

But Cameron came back. He leaned closer and said, "I'm not leaving until you do, reaper."

"I'll see you later," Jared said. "I'd hate for blondie to stroke."

Cameron scoffed and stepped back, waiting for Jared to follow.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked.

"Not until I know more."

"Fine." I shooed him away with both hands. "Get to cla.s.s. History awaits."

He laughed. "I don't think Mr. Burke likes me."

"That might change if you'd stop correcting him."

He raised his hands helplessly. "Your history books are full of errors. I'm just trying to help."

In science, the cla.s.s was studying the effects of sugar on cellular structure. I was studying the effects of Jared's presence on my nervous system. It was kind of scientific. Jared was the stimulus and I was the test subject. Oddly enough, every time the stimulus was presented, the test subject's cells flooded with adrenaline. Clearly it was a valid test. I should publish.

But I couldn't help but wonder what had happened exactly. It would take something very powerful to bring down Jared. He was almost indestructible. Who could do that? What could do that? And his behavior was different. To deny that would be infantile.

But still. That grin.

I was busy replaying that grin of his in my mind for the seven thousandth time when I felt a sharp jab from behind. I sprang to attention. Ms. Mullins was standing in front of the cla.s.sroom, her expression questioning, her gaze focused directly on me.

"Um, yes?"

She smiled. "You're right, Lorelei. At least someone studied."

When she turned back to her slide show, I sank back and rolled my eyes in relief.

Brooke leaned forward from the desk behind me. "Nice save."

"I'm going to pa.s.s out your papers now," Ms. Mullins continued, "and based on the scores I saw last night, I'm going to present you with a prediction: I predict that at least eighty percent of the cla.s.s is going to fail the test on Friday if it doesn't study. These scores leave a lot to be desired."

When she got to me, she looked down in disappointment. "You can do better, Ms. McAlister."

I scrunched farther into my seat and took the paper. My grade wasn't horrible. I wouldn't be grounded for a 78. But I would get a good talking-to. Mostly from Grandma. She freaking loved A's. But I'd had a horrid vision that day when I brushed against a senior with bulimia. Surely that counted for something.

"Score!"

Brooke, another A freak, must have aced the a.s.signment. Again. I turned back to her. "I'm totally copying next time."

"I wouldn't suggest it," Ms. Mullins said, coming back through the aisle.

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