The Screaming Season by Nancy Holder

Author:Nancy Holder [Holder, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Speculative Fiction, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781595143334
Publisher: Razorbill
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

JULIE CAME BACK from her meeting with Dr. Morehouse to announce that she was the captain of the Blues, an exalted position considering that she was only a freshman. The list had been posted while she was in session. If we’d had juniors and seniors, that might have been even more exalted, but I kept that thought to myself and toasted her in the commons with sparkling apple cider provided by the staff. There would be Cristal champagne later, after we were supposed to be snug in our beds. Most of the girls had the most incredible stashes of liquor, chocolates, and munchies. There was a seemingly endless supply.

But first there was dinner, and then it was study time. Mandy time. I told Julie I was going to the library and scooted out of the front door. But I remembered the scent of geraniums, and felt the tender bruises on my forehead, as I walked in the direction of the conservatory. Crickets scraped, and an owl hooted a melancholy warning to nearby rodents.

As if in reply, there was scurrying in the dirt behind me. Maybe what I was doing was foolhardy. I hadn’t told anyone that I was meeting with the great Satan, but maybe Mandy’s posse of evil knew. Maybe this was an ambush.

Wind whistled hard, pushing away some of the layers of clotted mist. I kicked up piles of it as I walked past the staring horse heads. Above me, to my left, the iron, tulip-shaped cupola of Founder’s Hall stood out in bold relief; behind it, the admin building floated gauzy and dreamlike.

After a few minutes I stood outside the conservatory, in the same location where I had stood before after I’d spied on Dr. Morehouse and Rose. Yes, spied. That was the only word for it. Then Celia had come out to play. A chill shot down my spine. Maybe this wasn’t the best of my ideas. Not that any of them of late had been much good.

A small light flared inside the Victorian-style structure of glass and wood. I glimpsed a strand of platinum hair behind the yellow flicker. Mandy’s face glowed as she set the candle in a black candleholder on the same glass table where Julie, Claire, and Ida had played cards. There were other things on the table, but I couldn’t tell what they were.

Moving back into the shadows, I found the outer door to the conservatory and turned the knob. It was locked.

There was a click. The door opened, and Mandy faced me on the threshold. She was wearing pencil-leg jeans, heeled boots, an emerald cashmere sweater, and a black leather jacket. A candle flickered beneath her chin, casting goblin angles and hollows on her face. Bruises splotched her fabulous complexion—on her forehead and high on her left cheekbone.

She actually looked glad to see me.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said. Her voice was high, shrill. Scared. I wasn’t sure if I should find that comforting. Probably only if it was me she was scared of.

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