Jealousy - Strange Angels 03 by Lili St. Crow

Author:Lili St. Crow [Crow, Lili St.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Vampires, Supernatural, General, Science Fiction, Fiction, Horror, Werewolves, Social Issues, Young adult fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Horror & Ghost Stories, Psychic ability, Orphans, Identity, Identity (Psychology), Body; Mind & Spirit, Schools, Parapsychology, ESP (Clairvoyance; Precognition; Telepathy), Betrayal, Action & Adventure, Teenage werewolves, Teenage girls, Missing persons, girl relations, Teenage girl orphans, Teenage boy, Teenage vampires, Traitors, Adolescence
ISBN: 9780857964427
Google: 7GfBk_EqIN0C
Publisher: Penguin Books Limited
Published: 2010-07-28T04:00:00+00:00

“I’m to clear the room. You’re to wait here.” He paused, his blue eyes darting nervously.

“Milady.” His eyebrows rose significantly.

I wished they wouldn’t call me that, but then I cottoned on. My stomach twisted up into a high hard knot. “Oh. I . . . okay, I get it.” And I couldn’t help myself—I looked around for Benjamin. Didn’t see him. I did see Shanks across the room, idly leaning against the wall near the double door heading out to the east hall. The emo-boy swoop across his forehead, fringing his dark eyes, was shaken down even more emphatically than usual. “I just wait here?”

The teacher—I remembered his name, Frederick—lifted his eyebrows, and a little of his color came back. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned on his heel, and the news had traveled by jungle telegraph. Boys looked curiously or gratefully at me and left, heading for the locker room. When I glanced back, Shanks was gone.

Crap. Here it comes. I should have backed up to the wall. But I just stood there.

Whatever happened now I’d ride out; then I’d get Graves somehow, and we’d go.

I couldn’t say I was sorry.

The gym emptied out. Dust motes danced in the air under falls of fluorescent light.

I felt curiously naked. It was the first time I’d been really truly alone in forever, and the gym was a huge empty space. The boys’ locker rooms were huge as well, with at least twenty communal tubs full of the weird waxy bubbling stuff that soothed hurts and made everything heal up like crazy.

But the girls’ locker rooms were tiny in comparison, though big enough to do a complete Yang long form in. None of the three or four gyms I’d gone to sparring practice in had more than a three-tub girls’ locker room.

Because svetocha were so rare. I shifted my weight nervously and tried to figure out what she would want from me now.

Maybe I’d get a chance to tell her Christophe wasn’t my thing.

Yeah. That’d be real fun all the way around. And the more I thought about it the more I knew Graves was right. She wouldn’t believe that.

Sweat itched all over me, and I pulled my T-shirt down. There was a scrape of rug burn on my forearm, past my elbow. Or would you call it mat burn, since I’d gotten it scrambling to get up while Arcus—

“Hello, Dru.”

I half-turned, and there Anna stood in a pair of clinging pink sweats and a red tank top.

Slim and pretty, her curling red-tinted hair pulled artlessly back and her fangs dimpling her candy-glossed lower lip as the aspect slid over her. The curls lengthened and loosened. She looked like an ad for Victoria’s Secret workout gear.

I slouched shapelessly. Sloppy gray T-shirt, green knit shorts I’d borrowed from somewhere, and my socks were probably dirty, too. They even felt gray against my toes, and my sneakers were new but already showing signs of hard use. I don’t believe in getting clothes that just look pretty or that’ll fall apart—they have to stand up to a lot of abuse.

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