Ten o’clock!
“Shit!” I gasped, popping my head up off the sofa. “Dammit!”
I jumped to my feet, knowing I wouldn’t have time for a shower. I was supposed to be meeting with my advisor right now.
Son of a bitch! I hated being late.
I dashed into the hallway, but then I caught myself, halting as I spotted the massive splash of red in front of me and remembering what I’d done last night.
That was why I’d been up so late. I straightened, gazing at the wall I’d painted and decorated.
After Michael had sauntered out of here, I’d been so angry I had a fit. But unlike a kid that cries, screams, and hits, I’d painted, pounded, and wore myself out instead. I wasn’t even sure if I was allowed to change the wall color, but I hadn’t cared.
Michael’s smug assumption that I was at the mercy of everyone else in my life—and how fragile I was—had gotten under my skin, and I’d needed to change something. Maybe he thought I was still a school girl, naïve and inexperienced, but he didn’t have me pegged as well as he thought he did.
I hoped I wouldn’t see him today. Or regularly for that matter.
I gazed at the color that reminded me of Christmas and apples, roses, and rows of Autumn Blaze Maples I’d seen as a kid. Of fire and hair ribbons and my mother’s evening dresses.
I’d also hung some photographs I’d brought with me, as well as the Damascus blade on the wall. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that it was from one of the horsemen. Or all of them. The mysterious gift along with their sudden appearance in Thunder Bay were too coincidental.
But why would they leave it for me? And did Michael have anything to do with it?
My phone beeped with a voicemail, and I blinked, remembering the time.
Shit.
I raced into my room and threw on some clothes and tied my hair up in a ponytail. Grabbing my brown leather school bag, wallet, and phone, I ran out of the apartment and hurried into the elevator, casting a quick glance to the other penthouse door down the hall.
I hadn’t heard any other noises after Michael had left last night, but someone was in that apartment. I’d have to try to catch the manager today. I didn’t feel safe, especially after being chased in the stairwell.
“Good morning, Miss Fane,” Mr. Patterson greeted as I walked off the elevator.
“Morning,” I called, giving him a quick smile as I dashed past the reception desk and out the spinning doors.
I stepped right onto the sidewalk, immediately caught in the bustle and noise of the city. People walked to and from work or carried on with their daily errands, moving quickly around slower pedestrians and veering across the street through the blares of taxi horns and whistles.
The clouds overhead hung low and looked smoky with a tinge of deep purple, and the breeze blew cool, despite being late August. I inhaled the smell of earth, even though everything around me was brick and concrete. I turned right, hurrying in the direction of Trinity College.
After apologizing like crazy, I got my advisor to squeeze me in between appointments, and we were able to finalize my schedule, as well as my long-term plan. Classes started in a couple of days, so it was a relief to touch base with her and start the year off right.
Afterward, I hit the bookstore for a few paperbacks that had been added to my reading list, picked up a coffee, and strolled the surrounding area, taking in the shops, the unusually cool day, and the beauty of the dark city.
I loved it here.
This bustling metropolis was second to none with its arts culture, libraries, and museums. The variety of fare offered at the restaurants kept even the pickiest diners entertained, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the trees lining the sidewalks and the plants and hedges that sat in flowerbeds outside of buildings. It was truly stunning and unique.
But there was a dark allure about it as well.
How the tall skyscrapers blocked out the light. How the cover of trees in the park surrounded you in a cave-like canopy, turning the green grass nearly black. How the silent alleys were lost in the fog in the early mornings, leaving you to wonder what was in there, because you know you’d never be so brave as to see for yourself. I think the dark side of Meridian City was what I loved most when I’d visited as a kid.
My phone buzzed against my leg, and I reached into my satchel as I strolled down the sidewalk, picking out my cell phone.
Seeing a number I didn’t recognize, I inhaled a deep breath, guessing who it probably was.
Trevor wasn’t allowed a cell phone at the academy, so I guessed the strange number was from a calling card. I’d had plenty of experience during his Plebe summer training.
“Is that you, Midshipman?” I answered, trying to tease. I’d probably see Trevor here and there for the rest of my life—our families being so close—and I wanted to be on good terms with him.