Divided Souls (13 page)

‘OK.’ He patted her cheek gently, leaned in to kiss it, then got swiftly to his feet. ‘I can’t help with a lot of things, Cassie, but this is one thing I
can
sort out. And you don’t have to be grateful for more than, oh, two or three centuries, really, doll. Yes, I can definitely give you some concrete, tasty help with this one …’

N
ervously Cassie tapped once, lightly, on the door before her, withdrawing her fist swiftly to chew on her fingernails. She eyed the polished plaque with trepidation. 

The door eased silently open, so that she saw first his fingers, then, as his face appeared, a solemn wink. Richard raised one finger to his lips and pulled the door wider.

‘Shh. He’s in the Land of Nod. Well, more or less.’

Beyond Richard’s shoulder she had quite a good view of the room. It wasn’t dissimilar to hers and Isabella’s, but perhaps even more opulent: plenty of gilding, lots of baroque, lashings of Ottoman chic. And if anything it was tidier than the room she’d just left, except for the silk scarf hanging from the chandelier. She wondered if Richard had been swinging on it. Wouldn’t put it past him.

He reached for her hand, but she stepped back abruptly, resisting. ‘Richard, I don’t know if this is such a good idea …’

He tutted. ‘You haven’t really got a choice, Cassie. You’re looking rather pale already, you know.’

‘But—’

‘No ifs, no buts. He’s not that bad.’

Cassie wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t even been thinking about … flavour … as being part of her trepidation. ‘Uh, are you sure?’

‘Well, he wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste, but I have to say, I quite like him.’ Richard wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Come on.’

Reluctantly Cassie stepped all the way into the room, getting an instant whiff of male cologne.

‘His, not mine,’ whispered Richard, sniffing the air. ‘It has a bloody footballer on the box, for God’s sake. Give me Antaeus any day. Anyway, beautiful, enough small talk. Bon appetit.’

He gestured towards Perry, who was lounging in an armchair, arms hanging over the sides, one leg crossed nonchalantly over the other. Cassie wouldn’t have thought there was anything particularly wrong, were it not for the boy’s aimless smile and unfocused eyes.

‘Richard, has he been … drinking?’ She narrowed her eyes.

‘Course he has. You don’t think he’s in on this, do you? He’s not the type to be understanding, not like your Isa—’ Richard caught himself, and gave her an apologetic grimace. ‘Damn. Sorry.’

‘I don’t know – I’m not used to feeding from people who don’t know what’s going on. That Few drink, I don’t know … and Sir Alric would—’

‘To hell with
him
.’ Richard walked across to his roommate and patted his cheek gently. ‘Hey, Peregrine? Visitors.’

‘Mm?’ Perry tried to focus on Cassie, who smiled at him nervously. ‘What’s she doing here?’

Richard smiled. ‘None of your business.’

‘Oh … very well …’ Perry’s head lolled back and he grinned up at Richard, who took his hands and brought him to his feet.

‘Good God, Peregrine,’ Richard said, with a brief look at Cassie. ‘Were you at the Chablis again while my back was turned?’

‘ ’S delicious,’ said Perry. ‘Hello, Cassandra.’ He gave her a leering wink that didn’t quite come off.

‘Sit on the bed, you dreadful old lush.’ Richard nudged him down on to it. ‘Come on, sit straight.’

Perry tilted woozily, righted himself and giggled. Shutting one eye, he watched Cassie suspiciously as she sat beside him. Richard took her hands firmly and clasped them round Perry’s wrists.

‘Whoah there, angel,’ Perry objected, eyeing Cassie’s hands. ‘No offence, you being Few and all, but you’re not my type.’

Anxiously Cassie glanced at Richard, but he shook his head. ‘Ignore him. He won’t remember a thing, will you, Peregrine? Right, Cassie, off you go.’

‘Richard, I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not used to him. What if I go too far?’

‘Trust me, you won’t, beautiful. I need to feed as well, so I want half myself. Honestly, don’t worry, I’ll stop you.’

Oh for heaven’s sake, Cassandra. He’ll do!

Estelle was right: she was hungry. They both were. Taking a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus, Cassie began to feed.

He was different from Isabella, that was for sure. As his life-force throbbed out of his veins and poured into her, she felt the usual heady fizz of youth. But it wasn’t the same. She felt a distinctive maleness. It surged through her, almost knocking her backwards, but as she opened her reddening eyes and righted herself, she felt the essence of him filling her. He was all arrogance, confidence, a petulant sense of entitlement; and for a moment so was Cassie. Pride expanded her ribcage. She was
elite
. Always had been, always would be.

And then Richard was prising her hands from Perry’s wrists, gently but firmly. As the link broke she stumbled back, satisfied. The pulse in her chest faded with the red light of her eyes.

Not at all like Isabella. Not nearly as good. But he certainly plugged the gap for the time being.

‘My turn.’ Richard took her place, clasped his thumbs over Perry’s wrists and began to feed.

She didn’t leave it too long, or at least she didn’t think she had. Cassie assumed Richard’s weaker spirit had nothing like the appetite and the needs of Estelle. When Cassie judged he’d taken about half a feeding, she put a hand on his shoulder, and he broke off without effort, pausing for his eyes to return to normal. He was breathing a little faster as he stood up, but then gave a short intake of breath.

‘Damn,’ he said.

‘What is it?’

Richard nodded at Perry. The boy’s eyes were half open, but they were glazed and blurry. Slowly, like a toppling tree, he fell backwards, sprawled across the bed, a feeble sigh escaping his lips.

Richard leaned over him, pressing his ear to his chest.

‘Tell me he’s alive,’ begged Cassie faintly.

‘Course he is.’ Richard stood up, sounding relieved. ‘I think we might have overdone that a bit. But he’ll be fine.’

Perry’s eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep with an idiotic smile still on his face. Richard puffed out a relieved breath.

‘OK. If you’re sure.’ Cassie shook herself, still feeling a little strange with Perry’s essence inside her, but it was subsiding now, swallowed up by her own life and Estelle’s. ‘Listen, thanks, Richard. I do appreciate this, really. You’re very generous, but I really don’t think I can do it all the time.’

‘You’ll have to. Till Isabella snaps out of it.’

‘I know. But I hate having to drug someone – even
him
– and it’s not exactly safe, is it? We’ve got no idea how far to go when there’s two of us.’

‘I’m sure we’ll get the hang of it.’

She shook her head firmly. ‘I’ll find an alternative. I don’t want to end up killing somebody.’ Somebody
else
, she added mentally. ‘Anyway, half a feeding isn’t really enough, is it?’

‘Not for you, that’s for sure. I could just about manage, but … well.’ Richard shrugged. ‘It’s a stopgap.’

‘Thanks again, Richard.’

‘Any time,’ he said, his eyes locking on hers. ‘And listen, beautiful, I mean that. Anything I can do to help.’

It seemed perfectly natural to lean into him. His spirit might not be the strongest, but as pure boy he was all protective chivalry, and she found she needed that. Almost instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the hug, squeezing her teasingly, then leaving his arms to relax around her comfortingly. Pulling back a little and turning her face up to his, her arms still wrapped around his muscular torso, Cassie studied Richard’s face closely. It was getting so familiar. She found she liked it. A lot. Even more when it was leaning closer to hers, lips slightly parted, eyes a little puzzled …

Wait, no. This was crazy, wasn’t it?

And yet it felt so natural, the way they leaned in towards each other. He was a friend, she thought. A
good
friend, as it turned out. And she really needed a friend right now.

So, kiss him, or not kiss him? A no-brainer. Kiss him …

‘Richaaaard?’

He blinked, bit his lip. When he spoke, Richard’s voice was husky. ‘Damn. It wasn’t you that said that, was it?’

She gave him a wry smile, drew back, and shook her head.

As they both turned back towards the bed, Perry was half sitting up, rubbing his temples and frowning blearily at the pair of them. ‘Richard? What in God’s name is she doing here?’

‘You’re repeating yourself, old boy,’ murmured Richard, too low for him to hear, but Cassie had to muffle a giggle.

‘My cue to leave,’ she whispered.

‘Mm, I suppose so. I’ll look after the, er … the night-time snacks.’ He grinned, but there was a definite expression of regret on his face. ‘See you soon?’

She nodded, and smiled, her heart still thudding. ‘Yeah. See you soon.’

Closing the door behind her and sighing as she faced the corridor and the walk back, Cassie felt heartsick at the prospect of a lonely night in her own empty room. And shocked to her core at how much she had wanted to stay in that one.

T
hey couldn’t go on like this. Cassie knew it as soon as she opened her eyes next morning and saw Isabella’s neatly made and empty bed. Not just because of the dangerous business with Perry – God, she thought with a sickening jolt, how could they have done something so risky? – but because she couldn’t bear not having Isabella around. Whatever was wrong, it had to be fixable. She’d never had a friend like Isabella and she was damned if she was going to lose her. And what was more, with each passing day, the threat of something bad having happened to Ranjit seemed to grow more and more likely. If there was some connection with Jake, or something Isabella knew that might help, Cassie was determined to find out.

She didn’t want to go to Alice’s room; she did not want to run into Alice, or worse, the two of them together. But, despite her ridiculously svelte figure, Isabella always ate a huge breakfast; she was bound to be later leaving the dining room than Alice. Cassie could ambush her there.

Hovering in the great domed atrium near the dining room corridor, listening to the sounds of breakfast without feeling any compulsion to eat it herself, Cassie crossed her fingers. Apart from anything else, she was getting downright jealous of the amount of time Isabella and Alice were spending together. She dreaded to think how they might bitch about the disadvantages of room-sharing with Few – and what Isabella might let slip …

However, there was no sign of Alice yet. Killing time by wandering among the familiar statues, Cassie was so certain Alice would come out first, she almost missed Isabella. If she hadn’t heard the click of Jimmy Choos—

Hurrying from the dining room, Isabella didn’t even see her; she was too intently focused on her phone, which was pressed to her ear. But some instinct stopped Cassie from dashing out to intercept her. In the shadow of Odysseus and Circe, she went quite still, pressed against the cold marble of the witch’s robe. There was a bright excited light in her roommate’s eyes.

Isabella was talking animatedly, but Cassie was well used to the gabbling speed of her voice. Together with her Few senses, heightened after last night’s feeding, that meant she could catch almost every word. Which wasn’t doing anything for her peace of mind.

‘Fifteen minutes … no, twenty … will that do? Of course I’ll be there …’ Her voice lowered, but it remained urgent. ‘Yes, of course I’ll be careful. Don’t worry. Nobody will see me … OK? Good!’

She wasn’t even going back upstairs. Her bag was over her shoulder and she was already out of the door and running down the Academy steps.

Cassie knew she had only a moment to decide. Saturday morning. The bigger ferry boat would be in use, and it would be busy with students going into the city. She could lose herself in the crowd. Besides, if Isabella did see her, would it matter? She was going into town alone. To sightsee. Browse in the Grand Bazaar. Perfectly natural. No worries …

Her mind made up, Cassie walked swiftly out of the Academy, pretending not to hear Ayeesha calling after her. She’d been right: there was already a large gaggle of students gathered on the small pier, laughing with the freedom of the weekend. She could see Isabella’s glossy chestnut hair blowing in the breeze, up towards the prow.

Cassie slipped into the back of the crowd, making sure she was last to board. Not having a bag may have looked a bit suspect, but at least she had her battered wallet in her jeans pocket, with enough lira for emergencies. Ignoring everyone around her, but shouldering deftly through a gang of third years who were tall and numerous enough to hide her, she leaned over the stern and watched the boat’s wake churn the Bosphorus.

What was she doing? She knew very well how she’d feel if someone spied on her. If Isabella found out, she’d be incandescent, and it would probably put paid to their relationship altogether – which, considering Cassie had come downstairs this morning determined to repair things between them, was a little ironic.

She couldn’t help it. She was as sure as she could be that Isabella had been talking to Jake, and not only that: she’d just arranged to meet him. That, she told herself firmly, was proof that Isabella, too, had sabotaged their relationship. She’d been in contact with Jake. She’d hidden that from Cassie. Isabella, too, was being devious. But perhaps this was her chance – to let Isabella lead her to Jake, and get to the bottom of what was going on.

Oh hell. Either way, the potential for proof of Isabella’s betrayal didn’t make her feel any better. By the time the boat docked at the mainland, Cassie’s heart was thudding with nerves and guilt and the fear of discovery. She was so careful to let everyone leave the boat before her, to stay well back from Isabella, she almost lost her. Which was a stupid risk, and quite unnecessary. When Cassie did spot her again, moving swiftly through the crowds, Isabella seemed oblivious to everything but her mission.

The streets were thronged. Cassie almost wished she could loiter and enjoy the atmosphere. The air was hot and smelled of musty ancient buildings, of men’s cologne, of strong tobacco smoke and spices and roasting nuts. Elegant shops jostled for space with junk emporiums and street vendors.

It struck Cassie that she was wasting practically her entire school career in intrigue and deception. Hell, it would have been fun to experience all this
alongside
Isabella, laughing and talking and ogling ancient monuments, haggling for bargains and triumphing over successes. That’s how it should have been. Normal school life would have been good. It would have been more than enough for a care-home-raised scholarship girl.

Instead, she was tailing her erstwhile best friend through the streets and alleys of Sultanahmet, and it was no mean task. Without her Few senses she’d have lost her long ago, but despite all the scents and sounds of the city, Cassie could still smell Isabella’s distinctive perfume – and even the scent of her skin – tracking her without difficulty even when she lost sight of her.

Isabella didn’t stop even for the glossiest of shops, the most enchanting of silks or jewels or carpets. It was so unlike her, Cassie was more than ever convinced she was headling for a rendezvous with Jake. The Grand Bazaar? The Argentinian girl seemed to be heading that way, through Beyazit, and for all her remarks about a tourist trap, it would be the ideal place for a secret meeting.

Yes. Cassie dodged round jewellery stalls and kofte vendors in time to see Isabella disappear into one of the southern entrances. She darted after her, no longer afraid of being seen. She was confident now that she could stay close to her quarry till she reached her rendezvous.

It was an unpleasant surprise, then, when Isabella simply walked briskly through the covered streets, ignoring all the shops, and back out of the western entrance.

When Isabella stopped and pulled out her phone, Cassie swore to herself and pulled back, turning swiftly to a vendor selling roasted sweetcorn. A heartbeat later, Isabella was walking on. Once more Cassie followed, beginning to feel a deep degree of stupid.

Isabella didn’t go much farther, though: only as far as the shady trees and canopies of the Book Bazaar. Here she seemed to hesitate, then found her bearings again and hurried down a paved lane crammed with bookstalls. After a while, she stopped quite deliberately, and spoke to a stallholder.

Cassie ducked into another little shop, half hiding behind a rack of maps and pamphlets. What was going on? There was no sign of Jake, but Isabella was handing the bookseller an envelope, and he was opening it to flick through what was inside.

Notes. Money. Cassie was sure of it.

The bookseller reached down below his counter, drawing something out. As he handed it to Isabella, Cassie craned dangerously far out from her hiding place, desperate to see it. But it was too small, and too far away. As Isabella smiled and turned abruptly, Cassie ducked back behind the rack, not breathing, focusing intently on an antique map of Turkey.

Her former roommate strode back determinedly the way she had come, passing quite close to Cassie but – thank heavens – failing to glance to her right. Cassie felt the thrashing of her heart begin to subside, and she took a few deep breaths. She was as sure as she could be that Isabella’s rendezvous was over, that that had been it.

What
had been it? Slowly Cassie followed Isabella back through the Grand Bazaar, at a greater distance this time. The girl was in less of a hurry now, browsing idly for scarves and
kilims
and brooches, stopping to buy herself a small bag of pistachios, then bartering for a slender gold bracelet. But there was little doubt she was heading back to the pier and the boat, and when she turned down the lane to the waterside, Cassie at last gave up the chase.

There didn’t seem much point in risking getting caught on the same boat as Isabella this time. She would hang back and wait for the next one: no way was she pushing her luck any further. Lingering in the narrow lane, back against the old stone, she wondered what on earth to do next. She had a good bit of time to kill till the Academy ferry returned.

What had been the point? She’d thought she was on to something, thought she would solve at least one of the wretched mysteries that were dogging her, but she’d wasted her time, wasted half the energy she’d drained out of Perry. She’d lost her chance to make it up with Isabella; instead she’d spied on her like a thief. And she’d also failed to find Jake, and so was no closer to finding out where Ranjit was. Or what had happened to him. Adrenalin seeped out of her like water out of a sponge. She was empty, drained and miserable.

Maybe that was why, very suddenly, she knew the tables had turned on her.

Someone’s watching us!

Yes.

Cassie went absolutely still. Estelle was right. She’d felt that strong sense before, that knowledge that she was being watched. Before, when they’d been in Cukurcuma! Taking a moment to psyche herself up, she drew a deep breath, then spun on her heel.

A small movement; barely enough to be seen, but someone had ducked behind that high building at the end of the alleyway. Cassie narrowed her eyes, then sprinted back, flinging herself round the corner.

Nothing. No one.

She stopped, breathing hard, uncertain. Had there been anyone, or was it nothing but her overactive imagination again?

Oh, stop lying to yourself, dearest! You know when you’re
being watched. You know as well as I do
.

‘Estelle,’ she murmured. ‘Estelle, was it him? Was it Ranjit?’

For seconds Estelle was silent, as if Cassie had taken her by surprise.

Dear oh dear, Cassandra. You mustn’t maintain this state of
denial. Of course it wasn’t him!

Cassie was aware of the stares she was attracting – standing here talking to herself like a madwoman – but she was annoyed enough to snap at Estelle. ‘How would you know?’ she hissed.

We had a history, his spirit and I, long before you joined our
little soirée …

‘Well, I’ve felt this before. I’ve been followed, by
Ranjit
, and I know what his eyes … h-his eyes watching me feels like!’ She took several deep breaths, desperate tears stinging her eyes. Yet the spirit was unrelenting.

Ha! You think I don’t? You’re wrong, my dear. You’re
believing what you want to believe
.

Angrily Cassie shook her off. Was it wishful thinking, to imagine Ranjit was tailing her footsteps, silent for some unfathomable reason but unable to leave her alone? It seemed so absurdly unlikely, after all.

But that
was
how it had felt the last time. It was the same strong tingle of fearful anticipation she’d felt when Ranjit had stalked her through the corridors of a Paris mansion. She’d been so sure, when she turned that corner, she’d see those roiling, gold-glowing, animal eyes. To be so hopeful – and then so mistaken – was a bitter blow to her heart. And it came on top of the horrible realisation that she was so very lonely, that she missed Isabella like crazy.

OK, she had to calm down. So she was either getting paranoid and developing a persecution complex, or someone sinister really was following her. Neither option boded well for her social life – or her life in general. Whichever it was, she’d better keep her strength up …

A kofte vendor on the pavement beside her was eyeing her with visible nerves. Cassie shook herself, and managed a strained smile. She was unexpectedly hungry: that unassuageable hunger that meant she hadn’t fed enough, or had used up too much energy. Kofte would be the most temporary of stopgaps, but she bought one anyway, stuffed with roasted peppers between chunks of oily bread. She bit into it with such ferocity that the stallholder flinched and pretended to look the other way.