The Dolls Page 15

  “I can take it from here,” I say, already quickening my pace toward my own front porch, which is visible on the hill up ahead. “Good night.”

  “But—” he begins to protest.

  “I said good night,” I say stiffly. I double my pace and continue ahead without looking back.

  That night, the dream about the parlor returns, and it’s even more vivid than last week. I hear screaming and crying as the blood pours out, and I see someone creeping from the room, hugging the shadows. I can’t make out his face or any of his features in the darkness, so I follow him as he walks through the front door.

  But the moment I leave the house, it begins to crumble. I run into the yard, but I lose the man in the darkness as I turn in horror. My beautiful mansion, the one my ancestors built, disintegrates, its bricks and stones crashing to the ground with a mighty roar. “No!” I cry.

  But the tide of blood from the parlor is rising around me now, hot and sticky. I try to run from it, but as I get to the edge of the cemetery, it drags me down and pulls me under.

  18

  On Monday morning, I wake up to a missed call from Meredith. When I play back her message, I grit my teeth as I listen to her chirp, “I hope you’re not still mad at me. What Trevor and I have is special, and I know you’ll be a good enough friend to understand.” What irks me about her behavior has little to do with the feelings I once had for Trevor. With the distance of a few weeks and a thousand miles, and with destiny and power swirling around me in ways I never could have imagined, Trevor feels irrelevant.

  What bothers me more is how easily Meredith has rejected the idea that my feelings could be hurt. The reality is, she simply doesn’t care.

  I’m still grumbling to myself as I head out the front door, and I almost trip over Caleb, who’s inexplicably sitting on my doorstep. He hastily stands and brushes his hands off. “Sorry, I didn’t know if your aunt was up yet, and I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. Even though I have bigger things to worry about, his instant dismissal of me on the walk home from Peregrine’s still stings.

  “I wanted to explain what I meant on Saturday night.”

  “Oh, I think it was pretty clear,” I tell him. I lock the door behind me and start walking down the driveway. “Let me recap: You could never imagine dating me, even though you don’t find me entirely repulsive. That about the gist of it?”

  He falls into step beside me, even though his Jeep is still parked in my driveway. “You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t I?”

  “Eveny—” He attempts to interject, but I’m on a roll.

  “I know I’m an outcast here. I know I don’t really belong with the Dolls. But if you’re not interested in me, why do you keep lurking around being all sexy and intriguing?”

  He stops walking. “You think I’m sexy and intriguing?”

  I groan. He’s missing the point.

  After a moment, he hurries to catch up with me. “Eveny, I’m not trying to jerk you around.”

  I snort. “Yeah, well, your social skills could use a little work.”

  “I know.” He hesitates. “The thing is, I do like you. A lot.”

  This time, I’m the one who stops walking. “What?”

  “I like you, Eveny.”

  A whole fleet of butterflies invades my stomach. I try to keep my face neutral. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”

  “The thing is, I’m trying my best to stop having these feelings for you.”

  The words hit me hard, and I start walking again so that he can’t see my face. “Gee, sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

  He grabs my arm and spins me around. “Would you stop being sarcastic and listen to me?” He takes a deep breath and blurts out, “I’m not allowed to be in love with you. I’m not allowed to date you. I’m not allowed to be feeling this way at all.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m your protector, Eveny,” he says. “For as long as Carrefour has existed, my family has protected your family.”

  “My protector?”

  “It was all established in the town’s founding ceremony,” he explains. He looks miserable. “There’s one protector for each queen. We’re specially charmed and trained to guard you, and there are rules that go along with it, just like there are rules dictating everything else in this damned town.”

  I realize what he means. “And one of the rules is that you can’t have feelings for the person you’re protecting.”

  He nods. “As long as you’re inside Carrefour’s walls, I’m supposed to be able to sense when you’re in danger. But the more I feel for you, the fuzzier the protectorate link gets. Like, I don’t know, the way Wi-Fi slows down when there are too many people using it.”

  I choke out a laugh, despite everything. “You’re comparing your feelings for me to a slow internet connection?”

  “Maybe not the best analogy ever.” He half smiles, but the expression quickly disappears as he adds, “Look, I’m sorry. But if I keep letting myself feel this way, I’m putting you in danger. And I can’t do that.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to absorb what he’s saying. “But what if I’m willing to risk not being protected?”

  “Why would you do that?” he asks, his voice catching.

  “Because I like you too,” I say, “and I’m getting sick of some ancestral pact controlling my life.”

  There’s sadness etched across his face as he says, “I can’t run from who I am any more than you can. I’ll just have to figure out a way to stop having these feelings.” He pauses and says, “I just thought I owed you an explanation.”

  Without another word, he walks back up the hill and gets into his Jeep. I stay glued to the spot as he guns the engine and comes down my driveway to where I’m standing. “Get in,” he says as he pulls up alongside me.

  “I’m okay walking,” I say, trying not to think of the first time I climbed into his car, when electricity crackled between us and anything felt possible. It feels like an eternity has passed since then.

  “Eveny, you know I have to keep an eye on you. It’ll be a lot easier if you’re in my passenger seat.”

  “Fine,” I say after a minute, climbing into his car and slamming the door behind me.

  We ride the rest of the way to school in silence, and when he drops me off in the parking lot, he says that he has to go.

  “Go where?” I ask, surprised.

  “Training,” he says, his jaw stiff, “with Patrick and Oscar, Peregrine’s and Chloe’s protectors.”

  “Oh,” I manage. “What does this training involve, exactly?”

  “It’s part intensive workout, part martial arts, part reflex training and speed. But the biggest thing is reviewing years’ worth of intel our fathers, their fathers, and their fathers’ fathers have gathered on Main de Lumière. It’s about knowing exactly how they might hurt you and staying one step ahead.”

  “So you’re training to be a killing machine?”

  I expect him to laugh, but instead, his mouth straightens into a thin line. “We’re trained to kill, but that’s always the last resort.”

  “I was joking.”

  He looks sad. “I know. So I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Wait,” I add. “All this protector stuff. Why tell me now?”

  He hesitates for a moment before saying, “All these years, I figured I’d hate you, which would make protecting you easy because there wouldn’t be any feelings involved. But then I saw you for the first time, and I felt exactly the opposite. I still do.” He drives off without another word and my Stone of Carrefour, which is hidden under my standard-issue oxford shirt, heats up against my chest.

  I’m floating down the hall in a fog of my own making a few minutes later when I hear Mona Silvestre from my French class saying to a guy near her locker, “Holy crap, did you hear what happened to that guy from LSU?”

  “I heard he was murdered ri
ght outside the gate to Carrefour!” the guy replies.

  I hurry to my own locker, where more people are gossiping around me as I grab my books. “Dude, some frat guy was stabbed to death,” a soccer player named Phil Demetroux is saying. “I heard it was so gruesome that the police chief hurled all over the crime scene.”

  By the time I make it to first period English, I’ve managed to piece together the full story through snippets of hallway gossip, and I’m chilled to the bone.

  Apparently, sometime on Saturday night, one of the LSU guys on Peregrine’s guest list was stabbed to death just outside the city walls. But since his car wasn’t found, police speculate that someone stopped him on the road, perhaps pretending to be injured, and killed him to steal his car.

  “What the hell?” I hiss at Peregrine as soon as she takes her seat beside me in class. “You said nothing bad would happen if we opened the gates for a few hours!”

  She looks at me defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Someone is dead!”

  “Quiet down, okay?” I’m surprised to see Peregrine looking tearful. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way. I swear, Eveny, I don’t know what could have happened!”

  Chloe slides into her seat then, looking equally disturbed.

  “Eveny’s pissed at us,” Peregrine mumbles.

  “We didn’t know,” Chloe says miserably.

  “Well, this should really help us keep Carrefour off Main de Lumière’s radar,” I mutter. “Nice work.”

  Chloe and Peregrine spend the remainder of class staring straight ahead. When the bell rings, they pick up their things and dash out without another word. My Stone of Carrefour continues to hum against my chest.

  In third-period French, before the bell rings, Drew pulls his desk over to mine and whispers, “You heard about that dead frat guy?”

  I nod without looking at him. I don’t want to give anything away with my eyes. “Pretty awful.”

  “Doesn’t it seem kind of strange to you that someone would be stabbed to death right outside our gates for no apparent reason?”

  I shrug and look away. “Totally strange.”

  “What was he even doing here?” Drew asks.

  I’m saved from answering as Mrs. Toliver calls the class to order and begins talking about irregular verbs. Drew reluctantly scoots his desk back, but I can feel his gaze on me all through class.

  At lunch, I deliberately avoid locking eyes with Peregrine or Chloe; instead, I grab a lunch tray and get in the caf line with Liv and Max, who look surprised to see me.

  “You’re not eating with the Dolls today?” Max asks.

  “I’d just rather eat with you guys.”

  “See?” Liv says to Max. “I told you she wasn’t one of them.”

  Max shrugs. “Yeah, but who wouldn’t want to be? I even want to be a Doll.”

  Liv rolls her eyes at him, and I force a laugh. I order some gross-looking lasagna from the cafeteria lady, grab a carton of chocolate milk, and follow Liv and Max to a table in the center of the caf once we’ve all paid. I’ve just taken my first bite of the lasagna, which isn’t as bad as it looks, when a shadow falls over me. I know without looking who’s there.

  “Eveny?” It’s Peregrine, her voice hushed. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Beside me, I hear Max drop his fork. He and Liv stare, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s gracing us with her presence in the cafeteria, or because even with her Louboutin boots, a fitted fur vest, and perfect makeup, she looks terrible.

  “About what?” I ask. I take another bite of lasagna and do my best to ignore her.

  “You know,” she says. She’s being uncharacteristically meek, and it’s freaking me out a little. “Please?”

  “I’m eating now,” I say stiffly.

  She leans down and whispers in my ear, “Please? There’s a serious problem.”

  “No kidding,” I reply.

  “What’s the problem?” Max pipes up eagerly from across the table. His eyes dart over to Peregrine. “If you need help with something, I’ll help you.”

  Liv smacks him on the back of his head, but Peregrine acts like she hasn’t heard him. “Just come talk to me for a minute, Eveny. I’m asking nicely.”

  I slam my fork down. “I’ll be right back,” I say. I stand up and follow Peregrine outside. She begins to head for the Hickories, but I say, “No. I’m eating with Max and Liv today. If you have something to say, say it to me here.”

  She looks wounded. “How come you don’t want to eat with us?”

  “For real?” When she doesn’t reply, I say, “Look what you’ve done! You wanted to have a party so you could have more hot guys than usual drooling all over you. And someone ended up dead because of it!”

  “But I didn’t mean for that to happen!” she protests.

  I look back toward the cafeteria and see through the window that Drew has arrived at the table and is deep in conversation with Liv. Max is staring at us with wide eyes. “Well, Liv, Max, and Drew don’t create situations where innocent people die,” I say.

  “This isn’t totally my fault,” she says. “Look, I know I screwed up. But there’s a bigger issue here. The guy they found dead was killed before my party.”

  “So?”

  “So, everyone at the party was accounted for,” she says urgently. “We had a guest list at the door. Every single person signed in. So how did that happen if one of them was already lying dead outside the gates?”

  My blood runs cold. “What are you saying?”

  “That someone stole the dead guy’s identity and used it to get into town. Into our party. For all we know, he’s still here.”

  “But the gates are closed again, right, so we’re protected?”

  “Not exactly,” she says miserably. “If someone got into town when the gates were open, he’d still be able to do what he pleased here. Including kill us.”

  “So fix it!” I cry.

  “I can’t,” she says. “Not alone, anyway. Just like I couldn’t open the gates on my own, I can’t restore the protection by myself either.”

  I shake my head. “I should never have taken part in this,” I say, more to myself than to her.

  “You didn’t know,” Peregrine says. “Please, Eveny. If you, Chloe, and I work together—”

  “Why should I trust you?” I interrupt her.

  Peregrine looks at me blankly. “What are you talking about?”

  “I know there are more important things to worry about, but you’re obviously keeping things from me. Like, couldn’t you have clued me in about the fact that Caleb’s my protector? Or were you having too much fun watching me make a fool of myself?”

  “So he told you.” The corner of her mouth twitches. “Well, it was kind of amusing watching you stare at him like he was God’s gift to earth.” When I just glare at her, she adds, “Fine, so Chloe and I thought it might be too much for you to handle along with everything else, okay? In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been trying to ease you into this whole zandara thing. It’s obvious that you like him, so why hurt your feelings right away by telling you that you two can never be together?”

  “Yes, you’re a benevolent angel,” I say drily. “So while we’re on the subject, is there anything else you’re keeping from me? Any other secrets about my own life I should know about?”

  “Now you’re just being a drama queen.” She sticks out her lower lip in a dramatic pout. “So are you going to keep yelling at me, or are you going to help us fix this?”

  “Obviously I’m going to help you. Tonight?”

  Her shoulders sag. “It’ll take us a day or two to put together the necessary herbs to render the intruder powerless. We’ll need the help of the whole sosyete too. This is a big deal.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “Can’t we just reverse the charm we cast to let him in on Saturday?”

  “We have to find out who the guy is first. As long as one of us i
n the sosyete actually saw him at some point that night, as long as we know what he looks like, we can harness that memory in a ceremony and cast against him.”

  “And we can’t just cast a charm to learn his identity?” I ask.

  Peregrine purses her lips. “You don’t think we would have done that already if we could? No, the spirits rely on our eyes. If we didn’t see something, the spirits won’t know it either. It’s exactly why we have no way to learn who killed Glory. No one saw what happened, except for Glory herself and the killer.”

  The words send a shiver down my spine. “Well, what’s the name of the guy who was killed outside the gates?” I persist. “Obviously the killer used his identity to get in.”

  “The police haven’t released his name yet. But I’ll keep trying to find out.”

  “You do that,” I say tightly. I can’t resist adding, “I don’t believe this is happening. All because you wanted to have a party.”

  Peregrine’s eyes narrow. “You can quit blaming me, Eveny. You know nothing about how this town works. Nothing.”

  With that, she spins on her stiletto heel and walks away toward the Hickories.

  Back in the cafeteria, Max, Drew, and Liv stare at me as I slide into my seat and pick up my fork. I take a bite, but the lasagna’s cold. I’ve lost my appetite anyhow. “What?” I ask after a moment.

  “Did you just stand up to her?” Liv asks.

  “She had a question she needed to ask. It was no big deal.”

  “It’s like she thinks she runs this town, like she thinks she’s so much better than the rest of us,” Liv mutters. “It’s about time someone lets her know she’s not the queen of the world.”

  Liv returns to chatting with the guys, and I watch them for a moment, feeling like I’m miles away. Although Peregrine may not be the queen of the world, she is one of the Queens of Carrefour. And like it or not, I am too.

  19

  That afternoon after school, I’m changing into jeans and a T-shirt in my room when I spot my mother’s letter lying on my desk. I pause and sit on the corner of my bed to read it again. It feels like the answers about what I’m supposed to do should be there in her words. Then again, maybe that’s the wishful thinking of someone who’s just stepped into the weirdest situation of her life.