Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

“That kiss clearly ruffled someone’s feathers,” Belinda commented.

“Do you ever just not talk?” I said, annoyed as I stood to go after Peter. I had a fair idea of where he went. The corridor was dark as I stepped from the teacher’s lounge, but that wasn’t a problem for me. My vampire side loved the dark. I also had excellent night vision, so I didn’t need a torch. I headed in the direction of the library, thinking Peter would be in his reading nook, but when I got there, it was empty.

I reached out to him. Hey, where are you?

No answer.

I moved through the tall bookshelves. Perhaps he was hiding among them, hoping not to be found.

Answer me. I’m worried about you.

Still nothing.

I searched through the entire library, but the place was empty. Rain lashed against the windowpanes, but aside from that, all was eerily quiet. I was at the back of the library when my night vision caught on something interesting. It looked like there was a door behind one of the shelves. Someone had gone to the trouble of moving the shelves in front of the door, but the handle stuck out a little, making the shelves stick out slightly, too.

Gripped by curiosity, I used my dhampir strength to push the shelves aside, and sure enough, there was a door. I expected it was just a storage closet, but something made me want to look inside anyway. I twisted the handle, opening the door to the small, windowless space. There was a mattress on the floor with a pillow and a blanket, alongside a bag and a few other personal belongings. Peter’s scent was all over this place, and I realised that he wasn’t sleeping in the reading nook. He’d been sleeping in this tiny little storage room. Sadness gripped my heart. Then, anger at his parents for doing this to him.

“What are you doing here?” came an irritable voice, and I turned around abruptly.

12.

Peter stood behind me, arms folded, expression stern.

“I was looking for you.”

He pressed his lips together. “You found me.”

“You didn’t respond,” I accused, hurt that he’d blocked me out.

“It’s after eight p.m. Didn’t we agree only to contact each other during certain hours?”

“I just thought given the unusual circumstances of the night—”

“What do you want, Darya?” His tone was sharp and cold, but I knew it was because he was embarrassed at me discovering his secret. I swallowed thickly, then glanced back at the room with the mattress on the floor.

“Have you been sleeping here?” I asked softly, taking a step closer.

His jaw ticked as he looked away. “It’s only temporary.” His confirmation made everything inside of me sink. Shame radiated from him. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I wasn’t sure if my touch was welcome. “Did your parents kick you out?”

“My father …” he trailed off, eyes downcast. “Mum tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“But … he can’t just throw you out like that.”

“Technically, he can. I’m nineteen, no longer his responsibility.”

“You’re still working at Indigo for free, right? How can he throw you out and still expect you to work for him?”

Peter exhaled and stepped by me into the small room. He sat down on the mattress and motioned for me to join him. I closed the door and sat. There was less than a foot between us, so many questions I wanted to ask hanging in the air.

“My father is a mercenary man. He’s always been this way. I don’t know any different. He doesn’t give second chances.”

“But all you did was give me an alibi. Surely, that doesn’t warrant homelessness as a punishment.”

“His way of thinking is different. As far as he’s concerned, we had the chance to do some real harm to your family finally, and I threw it away.”

I frowned, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry. I wish he didn’t hate us so much.”

Peter’s handsome, sad eyes met mine, “Me, too, but he’s never been good at letting go of hate. My father is the sort of man who would hold a grudge for a thousand years, so I’m guessing he’s not going to forgive me for this for a very long time.”

I touched his hand and held his gaze. His eyes were full of longing, and a little puff of air left my lungs. A heaviness settled in my throat. “You need to quit working at Indigo. Tell your father where he can shove his unpaid job. I’ll help you find another one that actually pays.”

“I already have one. Clay’s given me a few hours on his stall in the Market Below. I’m saving everything I make there for a deposit on an apartment.”

“That’s good, but you’re still working at Indigo, too, right? You need to quit, Peter. Your father made you homeless. He has nothing else he can possibly hold over you.”