The Harbinger: Portents of Death, Book One by Rebekah Lewis

The Harbinger: Portents of Death, Book One by Rebekah Lewis

Author:Rebekah Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub


Chapter 8

“I can’t believe it’s October already.” Aoibhe groaned. “Midterms this week and we have to have our one-on-ones with the dean about our projects. I haven’t even started writing my prospectus yet.” Genuine panic crossed her face. “What if I get an F before the paper is even written?”

Laughing, Ravyn tossed a pillow at her. It barely reached the other bed, and then tumbled from the edge of the mattress to the floor instead of making contact with Aoibhe. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.” She didn’t dare admit that she was also worried about a similar issue. Not that she thought she’d get a failing grade before writing her paper, but she did wonder if her paper being about her kind would somehow reveal her to anyone who read it—or be enough to send Daniel down the path of discovering what she was. But she didn’t know what else to write about that would be in her interest. Hell, she might learn some things she didn’t even know yet.

“So, are you and Daniel doing anything fun this week after midterms?”

The topic had somehow come back to her and Daniel. Now that he was officially her boyfriend, which was surreal in itself, that’s all Aoibhe wanted to talk about. “I don’t know yet. We haven’t made plans.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you and Gabe make any plans?”

“W-what?” Aoibhe stopped giggling and stared at her. She couldn’t possibly be surprised by the question. “The only person he seems to like talking to is you.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Her friend rolled off the bed and stretched. “You lot shouldn’t be so hard on Gabe. Some people have a harder time fitting in. He’s a bit introverted.”

“Has a funny way of showing it.”

“No, I’m serious.” Aoibhe collected a towel, her pajamas and her shower tote, then turned to face her. “He’s a good guy. One day you’ll see.” She whirled around and exited.

When the door shut, Ravyn flopped back on her bed, groaning when she remembered her fluffiest pillow was currently on the floor. With a loud sigh of sheer laziness, she managed to get off her bed and made her way to the pillow. When she snatched it up, she paused. The antique silver comb she’d seen her friend fidget with on occasion—a family heirloom had been all Aoibhe had ever said about it—lay on the floor. The pillow must have knocked it off Aoibhe’s bed without either of them noticing.

She bent down, intending to move the item back to the bed, but before she could touch it, the door flung open.

“Do not. Touch. That.” Aoibhe’s voice held an iciness that Ravyn had never heard. It stopped her dead in her motion.

Bent over, pillow clutched to her chest, hand stretched out, Ravyn gawked at her roommate. She had never seen Aoibhe…angry. But there was no denying that she was. Eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she looked from Ravyn to the comb and back. A scowl made her delicate features into something harsh.



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