The Thief

“Especially Kei,” he growled. “I have to share too much of my life with that moron already. My only saving grace is that he can’t get in this mirror. Bodyguard or not, I trust him about as far as I can throw him. And don’t talk to me at school,” he said, releasing me. “We’re not friends. This is strictly business.”

I got the distinct impression he was trying just a little too hard to remain detached. “Sure thing, your highness,” I said, hurrying out of the library and down the stairwell.

“And don’t call me that!” he called after me, but I smiled, because he didn’t sound hostile anymore.

Chapter 12

Jul

On Friday at 6, I pushed open the doors to the cafe where Camille had claimed she lived.

“Um, hello?” I called, entering timidly. The booths and tables said cafe, but the stained glass windows were giving a different impression. The arches over the pillars were familiar, somehow...

The wide, gothic windows were abstract patterns of glass. The fading sun glittered through the west side, casting a faint orange light. One of the windows had plastic taped over it.

Camille’s bizarre accent, clipped syllables and unusual vowels, echoed from the back of the cafe. “It broke,” she said. “Yesterday. Random.”

Camille hopped over the bar, landing agile as a cat. There was no way I could ever look that graceful. I recalled Rhys’s mention of physical prowess as a sign of being feral. Was Camille such a being?

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It looks nice in here,” I said. My intent was to be polite, but I was being honest. It was an unusual aesthetic, but it managed to work somehow - like bringing Athens or Rome indoors.

She shrugged. “It’s Gabriel,” she said, like that ought to explain everything.

“Who’s Gabriel?” I asked.

“My guardian,” she said.

“Oh is he here?” Guardian? What about her parents?

“Drinks with Charlotte,” she said, dismissively. “The booth is over here.”

“Charlotte? You mean Ms. Miller?” Her English was improving, I noted, though her pronunciation was still pretty awkward.

“Un,” she made an affirmative sound. I followed her to one side of the cafe, where a tri-fold posterboard was propped up on a table. She’d printed out some sheets with the basic experiment premise and some rough diagrams of each step of the process. It was plain and efficient. It had no personality at all. I wondered if it could be taken as a metaphor for Camille herself: something that ought to be really cool masked by a blunt, utilitarian presentation.

“You know what it really needs,” I blurted, “some of your drawings!”

“What?” she said, coloring slightly.

“Yeah! You draw those adorable little cartoons, we could make the display like a comic! Nobody else would have anything like that,” I said earnestly.

“They’re not that cute,” she muttered, but she regarded the posterboard critically. “Not very protectional.”

“Professional? You mean like what Rhys would want? Oh no, I think he would looooove some anime cartoons on his project.” I grinned at the prospect. “Don’t you?”

She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time, and she smiled. “Maybe you’re right,” she said.

“It’s showcasing our team’s artistic talent,” I said loftily. “With hearts and sparkles.”

She nodded, tapping her chin. “Ok, I like it.”

I grinned. “Awesome. I can’t draw to save my life, but I can color stuff in. I mean, the project is about color change, right? We should have some really bright designs.”

She nodded, uncharacteristically enthusiastic. “Colors. Be right back.”

She bounded up the stairs at the back of the cafe, where I assumed there were craft supplies.

I sat down, gazing at the colored windows happily. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. I guess all Camille really needed was to be included...I’d always thought I was supposed to wait for others to include me. Maybe I’d had it wrong?

I started counting the colors in the glass pane closest to me. Rhys was going to flip. We should probably fit in some rainbows just for good measure...

A metallic sound came from the front of the cafe - the sound of a lock clicking open. Someone slipped inside, brushing rain drops off his threadbare jean jacket. It was another student, one with a very delinquent look to him. The scar across his nose crinkled as he regarded me narrowly.

“Um, it’s, I think the cafe is closed,” I said, newfound confidence disappearing just that quickly.

“Didn’t come in for cupcakes,” he said, the ring in his lip glittering as he grinned. “Unless you’re offering.”

I swallowed. “Wh-who are you?”

“Hmm.” It was one of the seniors - no, a junior? I’d seen him around before. That scar was hard to miss. He was the one that often picked on Mac at lunch.

He looked at me like I was some sort of dessert. “I’ve had a bad week,” he said, with a pronounced southern drawl. “Maybe you can help me out. Tell me where Katsura’s hidden the sword and maybe I’ll leave all polite-like.”

“Sword?” I repeated, boggled by the random request. “What sword? Who’s Katsura?”

He advanced, and I backed up. “Please. You’re a Graham and you made friends with her? And you’re pretending you don’t know about the sword? Why else would you have made friends with that freak of nature?”

“I think you should leave,” I said, voice trembling.

“Give. Me. The SWORD!” he roared suddenly.

Camille

Camille heard him before he even opened the door. He had a distinct step - impatient, over-forceful. Wasteful. That mongrel, Hyde. What could he possibly want here? Oh yes, she remembered. The boy in love with Jul had warned her Hyde would try to fight her.

She stood at the top of the stairs, just out of view, listening.

“Tell me where Katsura’s hidden the sword and maybe I’ll leave all polite-like,” Hyde said.

Sword? Camille wondered, even as she heard Jul echo her question below. Gabriel had no swords. He’d already said. What was with these people demanding a weapon they didn’t have?

“Please,” Hyde was saying sarcastically. Camille could hear Jul’s heart rate speeding up. “You’re a Graham and you made friends with her?” His disdain was palpable. “And you’re pretending you don’t know about the sword? Why else would you have made friends with that freak of nature?”

What? Was Jul just using her? Gabriel had warned that there would be those seeking to use them to their own ends...

“I think you should leave,” Jul said. Her fear was tangible. No, Camille shook her head. She wouldn’t use me. She’s not that kind of person.

“Give. Me. The SWORD!” Hyde bellowed, and she had enough.

“Yamerou!” she shouted, vaulting over the stairs.

Hyde grinned. “I figured you were here. Coming to the aid of fair maiden? Don’t be a cliche, now.”

Camille settled into a defensive stance. Rain was pattering on the windows. “I’ll shut your mouth, zasshu.”

He laughed. “Man, school needs more people like you. I’m going to assume you won’t give up the sword