ARC: The Seers (5 page)

That is until our eyes finally met, at which point any hope I may have had for a friend fizzled like a wet match. The ease and grace of her manner may have given off the appearance of a delicate and refined lady, but it took one look in her eyes for me to realize the kind of person I was really dealing with. The kind of person I’d always hated throughout school and done my best to avoid. The kind with eyes that were in a constant state of judgment. Someone who could look at an amazing, enormously over the top gift and say, “I thought it’d be bigger.” Someone who had the nerve to look at me, a person she had never met, with a bored derision not even worthy of a bad television commercial, and once again I had the nearly overwhelming desire to shrink away and disappear. Before I could stop myself I looked away, immediately hating that I’d let her intimidate me, and promising myself that it would never happen again. No way was I going to let someone like that beat me – at anything.

Not willing to let her have a total victory, I continued to watch them discreetly from the corner of my eye as the mother tried one more time, prompting the girl to snipe something at her and walk off.

Well, wasn’t she a gem…

“Oh, there’s Della and Shannon,” Alva said suddenly, nodding to the girl and her mother as they both disappeared though an open doorway. “Shannon would be about your age, Becca. Have you had a chance to meet her?”

“No,” I shook my head trying to smile, “not yet.”
And I don’t think I care to…

“I’ll be sure to introduce you at the gala tonight,” she promised me with a smile as though she was doing me some favor. “I’m sure you two will be fast friends. And of course we have other young people with us as well, though not so many as we would like, it being in the middle of the school term and all. However, there are some who were on break or took leave to join us. They are all having their own reception in one of the lounges upstairs. Would you care to join them, Becca? I would be happy to escort you.”

Oh God, there were more?

I smiled graciously, but on the inside I panicked. No way was I ready to be thrown in a room with the entirety of the junior snobs society, but I was also at a loss for an excuse. Luckily Jocelyn had my back.

“That is thoughtful of you to offer Alva, but we have had quite a long drive and Becca was just mentioning that she could do with a rest before tonight’s festivities.”

“Oh, of course,” she fawned, “What was I thinking, you must be exhausted. We’ll get you up to your rooms right away. And not to worry,” she added turning to me, “we have plenty of activities for the young people yet to come, so you will have more than enough time to socialize.”

Damn it.
“Great.”

“Now,” she said, turning back to the group, “have you all checked in?”

CHAPTER 5

Turns out, no matter where you are in the world, a hotel is a hotel. That’s not to say that Adare Manor wasn’t by far the most incredible place I had ever stayed, because it absolutely was. However, despite the fact that at one time it had been a true castle and housed only one distinguished family and their staff at a time, that was no longer the case. It was still grand, still majestic, still opulent, but at its core, very much a hotel. And even the nicest hotels have the occasional problem. Luggage gets misplaced, the water heaters break, or in my case, your room key doesn’t work.

I don’t know what Alva had told the man she assigned to escort me up to my room when she pulled him to the side before we left the lobby, but whatever it was, the poor guy looked like he was about to have a stroke when he slid the key into the lock and it didn’t turn. “I am so terribly sorry, Miss Clavish,” he croaked, giving the knob one more panicked shake, “I must have been given the wrong key, I don’t know how this could have happened…”

“It’s not a problem…” I tried to assure him, but his hands still trembled.

“I will go back down and get this sorted, I am so sorry. There is a lounge area I could escort you to while you wait, or perhaps the library? Or I could show you to the conservatory where there are refreshments being served if you would care for…” He finally tapered off as I raised my hand to stop him.

“It’s really not a problem,” I smiled, hoping if I convinced him I didn’t mind that he would calm down. The poor guy looked like he was going to lose his job over a bad key – but then again, with Alva in charge, the idea may not have been that farfetched. “I will just wait for you here, or maybe I’ll walk down the hall a bit. It will be nice to have a chance to look around.” He nodded, but the tension was still tight in his shoulders. “No need to worry,” I added, “take your time. I will be here when you get back.”

“If… that is what you would prefer,” he said hesitantly.

“It is, thank you.”

He lingered a moment longer, probably thinking I would change my mind. I gave him one last smile and a nod, which seemed to finally be enough to get him to turn and hustle back down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, I leaned against the door of my yet to be seen room with a sigh.

Now what? My first instincts were to slide down the door and veg until the bellman came back, but even though I was alone in the hall for the moment, there was still always the possibility of someone walking by, and Adare Manor didn’t feel like the sort of place where one got caught sitting on the floor. I glanced around looking for a chair or bench, but there was nothing in that particular section of the hall, so I decided to go and look for one. After all, it wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

I walked down the hall a ways until I reached a secluded back corridor that didn’t look to have any guestrooms attached to it, or – as luck would have it – anything in the way of seating. There was however, a bay window on the far wall midway down the hall, that appeared to have a built-in bench beneath it. Not only that, but as I got closer I could see that it was shaded, and piled with at least half a dozen fluffy oversized pillows that were calling me like sirens. Best of all, it had floor length drapes that were only partially drawn, which meant I could easily tuck myself behind them and no one who happened by would be able to see me. Perfect.

With my feet already rejoicing, I made my way across the hall to the window and pulled back the curtain so that I could climb in, only to stop short with a jolt that nearly had me out of my skin.

“Oh!” I cried so loudly it echoed down the – thankfully – empty hall. Hidden in the covered portion of the seat that I had intended to take was a young man who was clearly as shocked to see me as I was him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I continued, bringing my voice down and stumbling back slightly. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

“N-no,” he stammered as he grabbed for the book that had fallen out of his lap, “I’m s-sorry, I’ll g-g-go.”

He began to quickly gather up the few other books that had been in the window seat with him, his hands visibly shaking as he stacked them up against his arm. Clearly I had scared the hell out of the poor kid, but he didn’t have to leave on my account.

I reached out trying to stop him, but he wasn’t listening. “No, please, you don’t have to go, really, it was totally my fault. I was just looking for a place to sit, I’ve been standing for a while, and my shoes suck.” I grabbed the last of the books on the bench and handed it to him, keeping my hand outstretched after he took the book from it. “I’m Becca.”

He paused, looking at my hand for a second or two as though it might bite him before taking it with his own still-trembling fingers and bowing over it slightly with a nod. “St-teven.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, hoping to reassure him a little as clearly his nerves were still getting the better of him – though I couldn’t imagine why. Did he honestly think I would be mad over something so silly? Was he just shy?

“P-pl-leasure,” he replied.

Ah… so the stutter wasn’t nerves after all…

After releasing my hand, he slid back slightly, but didn’t run, which I figured was at least a step in the right direction. He seemed nice enough from what I could tell, and with dark, almost back hair and light green eyes – at least I was pretty sure they were light green, though with them being cast downward most of the time it was hard to tell – he was a pretty good-looking guy. But why was he so skittish? So far, everyone I’d met there had more self-confidence and ego than they had room to store it, yet this guy looked more like a baby bunny ready to take off and hide at the first loud noise.

That was when I noticed something else unique about him: no ability. I could still sense the dozens of abilities all around the manor, but every one of them was coming from a distance and easily ignored. From the man standing right in front of me I felt nothing. He wasn’t a Holder at all, just a regular guy. He must have been one of the staff – which would explain the fear at the possibility of having “upset” one of the guests.

Once again I got excited. Now this was someone I could be friends with. Not a Bhunaidh, just an average guy who liked to read. Maybe my hopes for a friend for the trip weren’t dashed after all. If nothing else it was a relief to meet someone here who I didn’t have to act for or try to impress, and if I did nothing else, I would make sure that he knew I was not one of “them” and he didn’t have to be afraid of me.

I turned toward the pile of books he’d brought to the widow seat with him and smiled. “I don’t think you’re going to get through all of those in one sitting.”

Something like a grin tugged at his mouth. “No. I’ve alr-ready r-read them. I j-just l-like to r-reread my fa-favorite parts.”

“I do that,” I said, sitting on the edge of the widow seat and picking up the book on the top of the pile. “I read books to death. I may not have read as many as some people but if I’ve read it, I probably have it memorized. Wow,
Anna Karenina
…
in Russian
? You read Russian?”

He nodded with a shy smile.

“Jeez… I bitch about having to learn Gaelic, and you can read this while I can’t even recognize half of the letters! And let me guess,” I laughed, nodding toward the stack of books, “the
Les Miserables
in there is in French?”

He shook his head “no” with a chuckle. “Th-this one is E-English. Th-they d-don’t have th-the F-French ver-rsion here… but I h-have it at h-home.”

“Well, don’t I feel inadequate?”

He smiled again, and I wasn’t sure if it was the surprise in his eyes, or the hesitation of his mouth, but I got the sad suspicion that it wasn’t something he did often.

“I should probably get back to my room,” I sighed as I stood. “The guy should be back with my key by now, and I need to start getting ready for the gala.”

“Y-you will b-be at th-the gala?” he asked suddenly, the fear creeping back in to his eyes.

“Yes, I’ll be there with my…” I hesitated for a breath, “with the people I came with.” I was really going to have to get used to the word “father.” “We’re here from St Brigid’s Academy.”

His hand started to shake again “St Br-rigid’s?” he repeated. “Y-you’re here w-with “J-Jocelyn Cl-lavish…?” His words trailed off as something that sounded akin to terror stretched his voice thin.

Great. Even the staff had been told about us… “Yeah,” I shrugged, trying to be blasé, “he’s my father, but it’s no big–”

“Y-you’re R-Rebecca Cl-lavish?” he breathed.

“Well, yeah…” I said, at a loss, “but there’s no need–”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he cut me off again, not meeting my eyes as he grabbed for his books and began backing away. “W-we sh-shouldn’t… I… I’m s-sorry…” With that he turned and took off down the hall as fast as he could without breaking into a run.

A few hours, a shower, and over a dozen bobby pins later, I gave myself one last look over in the enormous mirror in my equally enormous room, and decided I was satisfied. I had to admit – and believe me, it was painful – that despite all the scowling and poking, Madame Loute really had known what she was doing. Everything about my new gown was perfect; the fit was flawless, the deep emerald color looked great on me, and the style, which I did still find to be a bit Guinevere-esque, was flattering. Hell, even the breast cups had turned out to be a good idea, as they made my usually humble chest look rather glorious – if I did say so myself.

But boobs aside, my biggest accomplishment of the evening was definitely my hair. It had easily been the most tedious portion of my primp-a-thon, but after a plethora of curse words and probably twice the number of hair pins I actually needed, I finally managed to get it looking the way I’d wanted. Chloe would have been proud.

But what would all the Bhunaidh at the gala think?

With a huff, I walked over to the bed and found my shoes, irritated that I would even let myself worry about what they thought. I’d always been my toughest critic, so if I was happy, then that ought to be enough to anyone else. And if it wasn’t, that was their problem. I had never let other people intimidate me before and I certainly wasn’t about to start now, particularly with a bunch of overstuffed snobs. Or at least that is what I would keep telling myself.

I slid my shoes on, took one last glance at the essentials – hair, makeup, panty lines, etc – to make sure everything was in place before grabbing the key to my room and stepping out into the hall.

I started toward the meeting area that Jocelyn, Alex, Cormac and I had decided on earlier, feeling – yes, I admit – a little like a diva. I was loving the sheen of the silk in the light, and the way the sleeves and train of my gown caught the breeze as I walked, rippling behind me like waves of mist over a stream. It was by far the nicest outfit I’d ever owned and I couldn’t help but walk with my head up just a bit higher than usual.

Though as I got closer to the meeting spot, the more I realized that it wasn’t only my new clothing-induced confidence that was sparking the excited flutter in my stomach, but the fact that I was only minutes away from seeing Alex, and him seeing me – the first exciting, the second, nerve-racking. Every step I took made my heart pound just a bit faster as more and more questions swirled around my mind. Would he be there yet? What would he look like? Would we get to spend any time together tonight? Would he like my dress? He’d been dying to see it, I’d hate for him to be let down…

God, it was like going to prom!

Amazing dress, hair done, date in a tux, and dancing; that’s basically what prom was, right? Take out the “my dad will be there with us all night” part, and it sounded just like the shindig I’d had to miss out on back in high school. One that, until that night, I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted. But much as I hadn’t expected to be, there was no denying it… I was excited.

I arrived at the large alcove section of the hallway where the four of us had agreed to meet, and before even stepping into the space realized with something between relief and disappointment that I couldn’t feel Alex anywhere nearby, which meant I had beaten him. I did however recognize the ability I sensed just a few feet away, so I took a breath and stepped into the alcove to find Jocelyn, standing alone, casually studying a portrait on the far wall.

He must have heard me enter, as he turned, his eyes widening when he saw me. “You… You look lovely,” he said after a short pause.

“Thanks,” I said, immediately glancing down. “I guess it turned out OK.” I twisted my hips a bit so the skirt of the gown swayed, trying to find something to say that would shove off the uncomfortable haze I felt about to settle in, then added with a smirk, “But I still never want to see that woman again.”

Knowing my “difficulties” with Madame Loute, he chuckled, and to my relief – and probably his as well – our usual awkwardness didn’t seem so bad.

Glancing back up, I took a moment to actually look at him, and when I saw that he was not only dressed in a tux, but also had several other fancy and formal-looking adornments, I was surprised to find myself impressed. Even kind of…
proud
?

“Wow,” I said, walking toward him slowly, looking at the large medal and sash he had across his chest. “You look very… decorated.”

“Yes,” he huffed a laugh, glancing down at himself. “It’s a bit much, but for something like this, it’s expected.”

“Everything’s ‘a bit much’ around here,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“It is,” he agreed, “though, on that note, I wanted to tell you that you did very well this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” I said, though I was actually distracted by all his finery and only half paying attention.

I stepped forward so that I could get a better look at his “accessories,” such that they were. The one that stood out the most was the medal in the shape of a cross that hung from a deep purple satin ribbon. The medal itself was very large, probably about five inches both from left to right and top to bottom, and was gold in color with silver accents dotted throughout the filigree details. Underneath the ornate medal and ribbon was a sash that stretched diagonally across his chest, which was exactly the same shade of emerald green as my gown. There were also four or five smaller hanging medals attached to his tux jacket, and a half dozen or so lapel pins, each one with a different inlaid symbol or script.

“What is all this?” I asked, and subconsciously reached out to straighten the medal so that it hung flat. By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late to stop. My heart may have skipped a beat or so, but I acted as though it was nothing and was happy to find that this semi-intimate exchange wasn’t nearly as awkward as it would have been only a few days ago.

But I still avoided eye contact, just in case…

“The sash denotes a clan, or a family,” he said after a short pause.

“That’s why we’re the same color?”

“Yes. Alex and Cormac each have one as well.”

“So we’re a clan?” I asked with a laugh.

“Not in the strictest definition,” he smiled, “but to all intents and purposes, yes.”

“What about this one?” I nodded toward the medal.

“The medal denotes military service, and the color of the band denotes the war.”

I looked up, surprised. “You were in the military?” Sometimes I forgot how little I really knew about him.

“British military, yes.” His eyebrows pulled together slightly as though he knew my next question was coming.

“Which war is the purple for?”

He hesitated slightly with something between a wince and a smile. “World War One. Of course then it was called the Great War.”

I know my eyes popped open a little bit, but I couldn’t help it. “Oh… right…” I forgot, you are so old it’s almost creepy. Though I kept that last bit to myself.

“Yes,” he nodded, glancing away, “I served in the Second World War as well, but only briefly.”

I wanted to let it go, but I couldn’t help myself – I had to know. “So…” I paused with a cautious grin, “if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you, exactly?”

He laughed quietly, though still looked slightly wary, as if he were worried the answer was going to freak me out. After a moment, he took a breath and replied, “I’ll be two hundred and eleven this year.”

Wow. “I’m not gonna lie,” I said, not quite biting back a laugh, “that’s still a little weird.”

Luckily he seemed relieved rather than offended at my admission, and smiled. “You think I’m old, keep an eye out for the gentlemen tonight with this same medal on a pink strap.”

“Why, what’s pink?”

“French Revolution.”

He chuckled when my eyes popped open, but I didn’t have a chance to comment before I realized – or rather felt – that someone else was approaching our little meeting alcove. Alex.

“I’d better go and make sure Cormac hasn’t gotten lost,” Jocelyn said suddenly.

“Oh, yeah sure,” I nodded casually, playing it off. I was almost certain he didn’t need to check on Cormac, but rather he knew Alex was coming and was giving us a moment to ourselves. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or embarrassed, considering that the only way Jocelyn could have known that Alex was nearby was because I’d done something to give it away… and I really didn’t want to consider what that might have been.

Embarrassing reveal or not, Jocelyn didn’t hang around to belabor the point. With a nod, he stepped off down the hall, and a moment later I turned to see Alex come around the corner.

I didn’t mean to gawk, or blush, or get a goofy grin on my face, but as he stood there just inside the archway of the alcove I’m pretty sure I did all three. Though in my defense, I couldn’t help it – he looked amazing. I’d never thought of Alex as “hot,” or “gorgeous,” or any of the other terms that a lot of girls my age used to describe a good looking guy. That isn’t to say that Alex
wasn’t
any of those things, or that I didn’t find him attractive, as I did. Very much so, in fact. His dark blonde hair was always styled, he dressed very well, and his eyes – which had always been my favorite feature – were the most amazingly clear shade of storm cloud blue you could imagine. The thing was that the specifics of his appearance weren’t usually what came to mind when I thought about him. He was Alex. It had never mattered what he looked like.

And while it still didn’t
matter
, I was not about to pretend like I didn’t
notice
. He was wearing a black tux like Jocelyn, but instead of the white shirt and black tie, Alex’s tie and shirt were black, and he also had a charcoal gray vest on under his jacket. His cuffs were French, his shoes shone as though they were new, and across his chest lay the same green sash Jocelyn was wearing.

Not going to lie, there was definitely a flush rising up my neck….

Though red as I was, oddly enough, Alex’s didn’t blush at all. I’d have thought with me ogling him the way I was, that his ears would be ablaze, but then again, he seemed far too preoccupied to notice the way I was looking at him. Preoccupied… looking at me. His eyes clung to me like condensation on a glass, with an expression that seemed to hover between anger and fear – though deep down I knew it was neither. Still, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

Why didn’t he say anything? Was he upset? Did he not like the dress? Was something wrong?

I took a breath to speak, but before I could find my voice he was coming straight toward me. He didn’t look around, didn’t check the hall, or so much as shift his eyes away from mine as he crossed the small alcove in three strides, took my face in his hands, and kissed me.

And dear God… what a kiss…

His mouth moved against mine with more passion than I’d ever felt from him before. His right hand slid up into my hair and gently but firmly held my mouth to his, while his left dropped to my waist and pulled me tightly against him. His fervor poured over me like boiling water over ice, melting me down to my core. I had no idea what had come over him, but whatever it was, it was hot, it was intense, and if he wasn’t careful, it was going to bring me to my knees.

But what hit me the hardest wasn’t his sudden hunger or intensity, but the hint of something deeper, driving like an undercurrent beneath his passion. It was something I’d never seen from him before, but unmistakable all the same.

Possession.

Alex had never been a dominant or outspoken person in general, but conscious or not, something in him was definitely sending a message: “
She is mine
.” It may have only been implied, but it was definitely there, and the very idea sent a tingling shiver across my skin as I gripped the lapels of his jacket with a throaty sigh. The message was raw, it was primal, and above all else, it was true: I
was
his. And he was mine. The fact that we had to hide it around these people didn’t make it any less valid. We belonged to one another.

Forever.

A few short seconds later he pulled back with a husky breath, resting his forehead against mine for a moment before releasing me and stepping back slowly, his eyes glowing. He hadn’t said a word – he hadn’t needed to. I smiled, hoping he saw the “
I love you
” in my eyes. His answering smile told me he did.

When we heard Cormac’s voice come echoing up the hall, we both looked away, doing our best to resume our façade of casual acquaintance. It took some effort, but by the time Cormac and Jocelyn came around the corner a moment later, I was perfectly cool and collected.

On the outside anyway.

“My goodness, Becca,” Cormac said, coming up and taking my hand in his. “Aren’t you the sight of an angel!”

“Thank you,” I smiled, seeing that he too had an array of pins and small medals decorating his tuxedo jacket.

“Yes,” he winked. “It’s a miracle I can still walk under all these silly baubles, is it not?”

“You look very handsome,” I grinned.

“Are we ready then?” Jocelyn asked.

With a collective nod, we all turned toward the hall as excitement once again tickled my neck. I stepped up next to Jocelyn who tentatively offered me his arm, which I took, and together we walked out into the hall and began heading toward the distant echo of festivities, with Cormac and Alex following just behind.