Ch. 6, The Train
"We just can't stop running into each other," Cillian said, watching without moving as I struggled to place both my backpack and Lainey's on the rack above the seats. I wasn't quite tall enough, but I'd be damned if I asked for his help. "Why is it, do you think that you're so obsessed with me? The good looks or the money?"
I finally sat down, matching his cold smile with one of my own. "Probably the money. And since you have so much of it, why don't you go use it to sit literally anywhere else?"
"And lose the chance to learn more about my competition? Never." He settled deeper into his seat, his long legs sprawled out, so that I was forced to tuck mine in. "Besides, I've already heard so much about you. The very first perfect score on the admission test. How exactly did you manage that?"
The accusation was so thick in his voice, I turned from gazing out the windows to stare him down. "They actually have had another perfect score. Mine. When I took it again to prove I didn't cheat."
He grinned, and I scowled, angry that I'd let him bait me into answering him. How did he know all this? I wondered if he knew the sibling rule—younger siblings of students who'd already attended the school were almost always accepted... scholarship students being the exception. But I couldn't think about that. I'd find a way to get them to accept both me and Lainey. I stared out the train window, refusing to look at him as a sudden surge of panic hit me.
He spoke with such confidence. What if the reason Cillian was coming here early wasn't because he was having an interview and hoping to become a student?
What if his place there was already assured?
As soon as I thought about it, I knew I was right. Yes, Dracon Hall accepted a small number of scholarship students every year, and there was an entrance exam to get into the school, but there was a deeper set of rules than the ones listed on the website. Rules that could be bent and shaped to keep a sort of people in—and keep out another sort. Dracon Hall had stood for centuries, and the forest it lived in had laid untouched for even longer. The people who attended this school came from wealth and privilege, and poured huge amounts of money into the school to keep it as exclusive and elite as it had been when they attended.
If Cillian was one of those people, if his parents were, then until I had my place assured there, he was a very dangerous enemy.
Deadly, even.
But why was he here then? Normal students didn't attend the summer program...
Lainey's eyes stared out at train car windows at that countryside slipping by outside. I wished I could enjoy the view, but instead I stared out the window while tracking every tiny moment from the man opposite me. It was just past noon, but dark clouds had gathered, and some rain began pouring down across the windows. Once I'd loved the rain, but now it only made me think how thirsty I was, and how I hadn't had a proper meal in two days.
Also how I might have ruined our chances at Dracon Hall forever. At the very first opportunity to secure our future, I'd insulted Cillian Dreadmoor. To be fair, he kind of seemed like an asshole, but if we were in competition, or worse, he already had a place at Dracon Hall and could sway my chances, I needed to find a way to tolerate him.
Maybe even befriend him. Not an easy thing to do, for someone like me. As you're probably beginning to see, dear reader, I have an incredibly hard time letting things go and making friends. People betrayed you, used you, hurt you. Better to keep everyone at arms length. Burying a hatchet wasn't really my style, unless it was burying it in someone's back.
Before I could decide exactly how I was going to make peace with Cillian, or at least find out if he was a threat to us, a knock sounded on the door, and an elderly man poked his head inside.
"Afternoon," he said, with a thick English accent. "I have lunch, would you like it served now?"
Cillian gave a careless sort of wave, that I took to mean yes, because the man stepped inside, folding out a small table that stretched between the two benches. Then he disappeared, and began to return with platters of food. So much food that my stomach started to rumble.
Lainey sat still beside me, gazing at the food. I felt another surge of guilt—when was the last time she'd eaten? I was supposed to be taking care of her. It didn't matter that she was only two years younger than me. I was the one who was supposed to care for her. I shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable as the scents of the food wafted over me.
Cillian wasn't looking at us. But I could see Lainey watching the food with those wide, wanting eyes, so I finally forced a smile and said, "Is this all for you?"
He turned to me and gave me that lazy, mocking smile that made me want to smack him. "Help yourself. But only if you take off those dreadful lanyards. Are you packages or people?"
I pulled my lanyard off and slammed it onto the table a bit harder than necessary, Cillian smiling up at me as I did.
Calm, Mallory. Calm and deep rooted. For Lainey.
"Go ahead," he said, giving the same lazy gesture he'd given to the man to the food before him.
Lainey reached out at once, but I waited till she'd eaten two tea sandwiches before I reached out as well. I expected Cillian to mock us. Instead he stared out the window, watching the countryside flash by, looking deep in thought. Normally I wouldn't have eaten so much while sitting directly across from someone as generally unpleasant as him, but this last year food wasn't exactly a plentiful resource. Now I felt like a plant starved for water suddenly drowning in a summer rain. I dug in, and as soon as the first sandwich touched my lips, I couldn't stop.
"I've never seen a girl eat like that," Cillian said some time later. I started, not realizing he'd been watching me. But who cared? I wasn't trying to impress him, just find out if he could hurt us.
I made a rude gesture, mouth too full to respond. He grinned at my response, leaning forward and snagging a half-eaten sandwich off my plate. I glared at him, as he smiled and ate the sandwich. I buried the urge to tell him I hope he choked on it, and just kept eating in silence.
See, reader? Aren't I doing a good job being nice? I deserve a gold-freaking-star.
Together the three of us cleared the food, and when there was only crumbs left, the older man returned. He cleared the remains, put the table back up, and then turned to Cillian. "Will that be all, Master Dreadmoor?"
I wanted to choke—master? What was this, the 18th century? Cillian who simply raised his hand in a lazy wave like he had for us earlier and the man bowed.
"Thank you," I said to the old man as he made to leave. "The food was delicious."
He bowed his head and responded in a gravely voice. "Master Dreadmoor insisted there be enough for you all to share."
My cheeks flushed at this, and I refused to look at Cillian—even though I knew a mocking smile filled his face as the man left. The door had barely slid shut before Cillian said, "You are most welcome, Ms. Foxglove, for the delicious food."
"Piss off, Cillian. Or should I call you Master Dreadmoor?"
His smile turned wicked. "Please do."
I refused to blush at the silky voice, the mocking smile in his eyes. Damn him. This wasn't like me, letting someone else get under my skin. But I'd been dealing in shadows and secrets for so long—this sort of battle was one I'd forgotten. If I wasn't so exhausted from months of barely sleeping, I'd take him apart. But, that wasn't the plan. First I needed to find out more about him.
Which meant I needed to find a way to talk to him, and not, as I would have preferred, punch him.
You can do this, I reminded myself. He was just a rich, entitled asshole who thought he knew better than everyone. I used to be great at playing people like that... Or at least, I knew how to make myself seem smaller, less threatening, less intelligent, to get where I needed to go.
But that was the old me. The girl who was supremely confident that all my knowledge, my my books, my intelligence—all of it made me invincible.
But none of those things had stopped mom and dad from dying.
I'd become a different person since then—a person of sharp edges and quiet hunger, with blood on her hands. But maybe I needed to find a way to tap back into that kind, soft girl who loved to read. That was the girl who'd secure a place at Dracon Hall.
So I turned to Cillian and said, in the least abrasive way I could, "How did you know about my entrance exam? Who told you?"
He dangled his lanyard in his hands, and looked at the crest of Dracon Hall—a D encased in vines—before I realized that it wasn't his lanyard. It was mine. When had he gotten that? I leaned forward to snatch it back, but he pulled back and I didn't dare move forward and try and take it. I'd already been pressed up against his body once today.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you to say please?" he said in that mocking tone.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you you're an asshole?" Dammit. This nice thing was not going well.
But he just smiled, turning back to the lanyard when he said, "My dad is on the Board of Governors. Or he was, until a few years ago... They're hoping to get him back on the board again." He sighed. "And for some incredibly stupid reason, they think offering me a spot will mend the wounds of the past."
He rolled his eyes at his final words, but I didn't understand his tone or words. Wounds of the past? What kind of wounds did Cillian have? Or did he mean something about Dracon Hall?
But then those cold, grey eyes turned, freezing me. "And you? What do your parents think about you being here?"
"Our parents are dead."
"Lucky you."
I bristled, a surge of rage crashing through me, rising all the more when he smirked at the rage so clearly displayed on my face. "You'll have to learn to act better than that, sweet Mallory. There are far worse monsters than me at Dracon Hall."
I wanted to scream at him, eviscerate him, but something about his words reminded me of the girl, the one who called to me in the dreams...
Why had he used the word monsters?
"Look," I finally said, dragging the words from some deep part of me that still remembered the girl I once was. "I think we've got off on the wrong foot." I took a deep breath. "We both deserve a space at Dracon Hall. I won't get in your way if you don't get in mine." It felt like eating ash, to say these things, to cower. But I'd do it. I'd done far, far worse.
He didn't smile. He just met my gaze for a long, long moment before he too turned to look at Lainey. I didn't like that she was here before him so defenseless... or that the sad face she'd worn these past few weeks finally was smooth and peaceful. I hated that he was the one who'd provided the food. I didn't like feeling indebted to him.
I didn't want to be saved. Least of all by someone like him.
"See, the thing is, I don't think you deserve a place at Dracon Hall." He said the words so cold and calm. Like they didn't land like a slap to the face. But he wasn't done. "There are things I know about Dracon Hall that would make you and your sister run away screaming." There was something dark in his voice, something that told me he was telling the truth.
Maybe I should have been scared. But, as you're beginning to see, reader, it takes a lot to scare me. "I'm not really the run and scream kind of girl," I said coldly. "And it's not like we have any other choices. Not all of us have daddy's money to get us a spot wherever we want."
His eyes flashed, and then, ahead, just as quickly, settled back into that cold arrogance. He dangled the lanyard just before his eyes, staring at it. "And you think your perfect little smart girl will be enough to get both of you a place."
"It isn't an act," I snarled, before I forced the anger down, trying to reflect that same steely cold he held effortlessly. "I took the entrance exam all on my own. And I'm going to get into the summer program all on my own too. I don't need your advice—or your help. And you aren't going to scare me away with some cryptic warnings."
He lowered the lanyard and when his eyes fixated on mine, it was with such coldness I was suddenly grateful Lainey sat beside me. "See, that's where you're wrong. You do need my help. The perfect score might have gotten you an interview, but it isn't going to get you a spot at Dracon Hall. And it certainly won't get a spot for both of you." His eyes shifted to my sister asleep on the seat beside me. "That is what you're hoping for, isn't it? Not just one but two full scholarships?"
I didn't back down. Not ever. Not when my parents died. Not when I'd been stripped of my home and my friends and my school and everything I owned. Not when I became someone violent, and wicked who did whatever they had to to survive.
"Yes," I said with cold precision. "That is what I'm planning. Dracon Hall has by-laws that allow siblings in if their older sibling earned a place."
"And it works for scholarship students too?"
I glared at him, hating him and that knowing smirk that said he knew the by-laws as well as I did. Damn him. I wished, not for the first time, I had a phone and could do a deep dive into who exactly he was, and what weaknesses he held. Everyone had weaknesses, everyone had vulnerabilities, and usually I was good at finding them. But it wasn't often I met someone I worried might be as dangerous as me, or hiding just as many secrets. The two of us surveyed each other like two predators circling around a carcass, both wondering how big a threat the other was exactly.
He'd find out eventually I was the bigger threat.
"You know the summer program is going to be smaller this year than it ever has?" His voice was cold, yet conversational, dangling this morsel of information like he was baiting a trap. A trap he knew I'd step right into.
"I hadn't heard that."
"Aren't you going to ask why?"
"I assume you'll tell me regardless."
His eyes glittered, the anger showing for just a moment, like a flash of something emerging from the depths than sinking away again. "Because last summer someone disappeared."
The dream. The girl in this vision. Were they related? I forced it all away—because it was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. Dracon Hall would be a refuge. Not a prison. "It wasn't on the news or in the paper," I countered.
"That's because they covered it up."
"Or because you made it up." He was trying to scare me, throw me off my game.
He glared at me for a long moment before he shrugged, turning back to the window. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I rolled my eyes and settled in deeper beside Lainey. The rain continued streaking outside the window, lakes and rivers and forests all passing by, but I found myself unsettled rather than comforted by the beautiful scenery.
Was he right? Had someone really disappeared? Were there monsters at Dracon Hall?
I closed my eyes and settled my head against Lainey's. The last year I'd been on my own, fighting for us both, and I'd found out that there were monsters everywhere. But that didn't mean Cillian was telling the truth. He was clearly nothing more than an entitled asshole. He didn't know what a true monster was...
True monsters weren't in the movies or in storybooks.
A true monster hid behind the faces of the people you loved...
... Or stared back at you in the mirror.
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