Gabriella Poole - Divided Souls (Darke Academy)

oppressively hot in that room with its magnificent vaulted ceilings and its rich dark fabrics. Cassie had slipped off Isabella’s stilettos, and

was enjoying the sensation of soft and expensive Turkish rug between her toes. She wished she could afford to buy one, but then where

would she put it? The TV lounge at Cranlake Crescent? Grinning, she took another swallow of cocktail and felt it zing straight to her head.

Well, back to the fray …

She didn’t bother to put the Manolos back on. She liked the barefoot feeling, and it wasn’t as if she needed the extra height. The Few

students were treating her with respect now, even the ones who didn’t hold her in much affection; people were greeting her cheerfully and

drawing her into their conversations. They were all rich, elegant, polished to within an inch of their privileged lives, yet their eyes seemed

drawn to her like a magnet as she passed, and in more than a few of those gazes there was deference, and even a little fear. She liked being

Few, she realised with a happy jolt …

A cut-glass voice sliced into her reverie. ‘Oh look, if it isn’t ding-dong Bell again. Nice frock. Where do you think she got it? Primark? Or

just nicked?’

Cassie halted. Trust Sara to try and spike her evening. Turning, Cassie glared right into the sixth former’s face as she stood by the bar

next to Mikhail – the person to whom the girl was supposedly directing her comments. Sara’s face twisted with distaste at Cassie’s reaction,

but she couldn’t help flinching a little. Remembering, no doubt, how Cassie had dealt with her at a similar bar in Carnegie Hall that

February …

Honestly, the girl was tragic. Did she really imagine that Cassie cared any more what she thought? Still, it was fun to watch the fear flit

across her face, chasing out the hatred.

‘All alone, Cassandra?’ That was Mikhail, sidling closer to Sara, though Cassie couldn’t tell if he was supporting the English girl or

looking for safety in numbers. ‘No date? Oh, that’s right. Ranjit’s turned all Harry Houdini on us and disappeared. Poor thing. Perhaps our

prince is after a taste of the high life, having slummed it last term?’ He arched an eyebrow at Sara pointedly.

Cassie drew back her lips to show her teeth. The light in the room was suddenly a little redder. ‘Want to come out from Sara’s skirts and

say that again, Mikhail?’

‘How dare you, you utter chav. Who do you think you—’

‘Would you like to find out exactly who I am?’ She let the red flood her eyes. Damn, she hadn’t wanted to let them get to her. If the little

dick hadn’t brought Ranjit into it—

‘Cassie! Hey!’ An arm slipped round her waist, surprising her enough to let a little of the red drain from her vision.

‘Oh, Richard,’ drawled Sara. ‘Trust you to lower yourself.’

‘Well, we know he isn’t fussy,’ added Mikhail bitchily.

‘And you should know, Mickey, my lad.’ Richard gazed solemnly into Cassie’s eyes, then looked back at the other two with an innocent

smile. ‘Doesn’t Ms Bell just look set to stun? We ought to be careful, it could be dangerous just to look at her the wrong way.’

Sara took an involuntary step back. She looked furious at herself, but there was no hiding her instinctive nervousness.

Richard let it go, his small victory achieved. ‘Please dance with me, Cassie. You’re the best-looking girl in the room. Bar none.’

Cassie grinned. It wasn’t just that she was glad of a diversion. Richard looked exceptionally good in a tux. And his eyes were alight with

mischief, which couldn’t help but make him even more attractive. ‘Why, thank you, Richard. I’d be delighted.’

She didn’t wait to watch the fury on the faces of Sara and Mikhail, but turned and let Richard guide her to the cleared space where people

were dancing.

‘Hmm, bit of a smoochy one, isn’t it?’ she said dryly as she twined her arms round his neck.

‘I’m not the one choosing the music,’ he murmured. ‘You looked like you needed an escape – a peaceable one, anyway. And you do look

fantastic, I wasn’t joking, so I thought I’d take my opportunity where I could get it.’

Cassie angled her head up to look at him, expecting the usual glint of wickedness in his eye, but it was missing. Instead he looked

almost wistful.

A little taken aback, she glanced down at Isabella’s scarlet dress. ‘It’s borrowed.’

‘Who cares?’

‘And anyone would look fantastic after Isabella’s ministrations.’ This was ridiculous; she felt quite flustered. ‘You’re just doing that

charming thing again.’

‘I can’t help it. It’s in the blood.’

Speaking of blood, she could feel his. She could feel it throbbing through his veins, feel the thud of his heart against her chest. It should

have made her nervous, but she found she liked it. Almost involuntarily she nestled closer against him. After tensing a little with surprise,