“I think we should all go with Lucy to talk to campus security.” Will’s hand found the small of my back and led me out of the restaurant, just like he had the other day. I was almost started to get used to this guy. But I couldn’t think about that, not now.
“Good idea.” Shanda nodded, catching up with Kevin.
Will’s pace slowed, and I slowed with him. Once we were out of earshot of the academy’s hottest new couple, he turned to me. “Why don’t you let me take you out on a proper date? How about next weekend?”
The idea rolled around like a loose pinball in my brain. Nothing made sense any more. After what he did for me tonight, how could I turn him down?
“I’d like that.” I smiled up at him and let him lead me down the busy sidewalk. After tonight, I might let him lead me anywhere.
Chapter 10
A rosy hue lit up the wooden altar of the chapel sanctuary. I tiptoed to the nearest hand-carved pew and kicked back to watch the stained-glass sunset—and do a little recon. Even after everything that happened over the weekend, I still needed to figure out my brother’s postcard.
Evening rays slanted through the multi-colored panes, splashing the room with faded light. A mosaic waltzed across the floor tiles, the entire formation an intricate dance more spectacular than each piece on its own. Pulling out the postcard, I read the strange words over again. Wish you were here, lil sis. I found a great church here. I hope you find one, too.
What could James possibly mean by that? Flipping the postcard over, I stared at the Gothic style church depicted on the front. This building was much older than the Montrose chapel. Turning the card over again, I read the caption in the bottom left-hand corner, Church of Santa Lucia, Parma, Italy. I’d been hearing a lot about St. Lucia in the past week. Maybe I should dig up a little dirt on this elusive saint.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” At the sound of a male voice, I stiffened and turned. Bryan rested his hand on the back of my pew. “You ready?”
“I could watch this all day. Can’t our class meet out here instead?” The world made more sense here in the chapel. Less overwhelming. So peaceful I never wanted to leave.
“Hey, good idea. After class, maybe we can have our Guardian meeting out here.” He tugged on my hand and I followed him down the cold tiles.
“Do you guys still want me to join, despite my Nexis heritage?” I cringed. “I’m such a mess,” I whispered to my shoes. I always blurted out my ramblings, even the intensely personal ones. This time it felt okay, like this guy might understand.
“You decide your own destiny, good or bad.” He swung open the library door. It creaked on its hinges.
What an odd response. I scrunched up my forehead in the way Mom hates. She insists I look like a worried bulldog, but was Bryan secretly full of fortune cookie sayings?
Losing focus, I tripped over the door jamb and my hand smacked into a small plaque on the wall I hadn’t noticed last time. In shiny bronze etching it announced the Societates Neutrum Rare Book and Manuscript Collection. Did that mean neutral societies? Interesting.
Bryan motioned me over to a table in the middle of the room. Piles of books littered the tabletop dotted around the room. Dad would love this, all the antiques and old books.
The rest of the class trickled in behind us, taking their seats. I pulled up a chair at the Guardian table. The redheaded trio of Lenny, Laura, and Felicia made Brooke’s dirty blonde hair stand out even more. She stared back at me as I eased into my chair.
“Where’s Tony?” I glanced around the shelves, but the dark-haired Italian didn’t slink out from behind the shadowed stacks.
“Soccer practice.” Laura answered from her seat next to me.
Class wouldn’t start for another five or ten minutes, so I pulled out my sketchpad and charcoal pencils. With my pencil, I traced a feathery outline of the white image branded into my mind. Those delicate wings, so alive, so full of light in every shade. How could my simple drawing recreate their splendor? I smudged the edges with my index finger, but it only diluted the white, as if the wingtips were singed by the shadow. That’s not the way it happened, not in my mind. I ripped off the page and crumpled it in my hands.
It felt wrong to be so heartless, yet wrong to draw something untrue to what I’d seen. Could what I imagined somehow be real? It’d felt so real two days ago. But if it wasn’t real, then I needed to have my head examined. I chucked the paper wad into the trash.
Mr. Harlixton marched into the room and I shoved my sketchpad and pencils into my bag. Maybe I was going crazy, seeing strange things like angel fights, shadowy wraiths, and an old man praying. With my fingertips, I grazed over the familiar bump under my mass of dark hair. Could it be my head injury from seven months ago, or were my Seer powers finally manifesting themselves? If anyone knew the answer to that question, it’d be the man standing in front of me.
Picking up an ancient book, Mr. Harlixton hugged it to his chest. “The results of your assessment quiz have been tallied. Tonight I will assign you individual research topics and point you to the books you’ll need for your thirty-page research paper due at the end of the semester. Of course, these resources will only be the starting point. You’ll need to find your own sources, too.”
Walking around to every student in the classroom, he handed out an assignment sheet and a pair of white gloves. “You’ll need to wear
