Gabriella Poole - Divided Souls (Darke Academy)

the most appalling way when he’d tricked her into being initiated in the Few ceremony. And yet he’d somehow managed to redeem himself

yet again. He was unbelievably easy to be with, and that was something she could appreciate more and more as her life grew increasingly

complicated. Being with Richard wasn’t like the constant passion and fear and lust that went with … with some people’s company. Or lack

of it. It was somehow safe. Comfortable. But not without its frissons. Very, very nice, in fact.

Cassie was almost sleepy now. She’d almost managed to empty her mind of all the escalating worries, just for a moment. The frothy little

waves hissed and receded on the sand, hypnotic in their rhythm. There was nothing she could do about it all right now – about Jake, what

he might be doing in Istanbul, what Isabella might be keeping from her, where Ranjit might be or … or what might have happened to him.

‘Cassie?’

‘M-hmm?’ She wondered idly if Richard was about to hit on her. She decided, on balance, that she didn’t mind too much if he did.

But he didn’t move. He sat up, clasped his hands tighter, as if he was praying, and said, ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.’

Cassie set the Coke bottle down in a patch of sand, wiggling it till it stood up straight. Turning her head, she watched his face. It was still

focused on the night sky. ‘That sounds ominous.’

He gave a funny little shrug. ‘It’s certainly important.’

She bit her upper lip, her heart suddenly thudding faster. ‘Richard. Is this about Mikhail or … or Ranjit? The disappearances?’

‘Hell, no. Though some of the superstitious twits back there might think it was all part of the same curse.’

‘There isn’t a curse,’ she scoffed. ‘There’s just some seriously twisted people around this place, that’s all.’

‘I couldn’t agree more. Still …’

‘Go on. You wanted to tell me something.’ She focused very intently on his face. She wanted to see every expression that crossed it, to

scout for signs of deceit or double-cross, but she found she also just liked looking at it. Well, he was Few. Of course he had a beautiful

face. Mind you, Sara was Few, and she didn’t like looking at her for extended periods.

‘It’s about the Academy.’ He broke into her thoughts. ‘Before you came. About what happened. You know? All that, uh, trouble with Jess.

It was a very screwed-up time for the school, back then. A bit like now, in fact.’

‘Go on.’ She held her breath, still watching him. Her pulse remained fast and strong in her throat.

‘There’s something I want— No.’ Richard turned his head to stare at her. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

His gaze, now that it met hers, was incredibly intense. For a fleeting instant Cassie was scared to keep looking at him, scared to know

what he wanted to tell her. It was going to be too much truth: she could see it in his agonised stare. So she slewed her eyes away, out

beyond the rock, out to the edge of the black sea and the log that rolled in the waves, sucked out and tossed back in.

‘It’s about what happened in Cambodia.’

‘Richard …’

‘Please. Let me tell you what happened. I need to tell you.’

‘Richard?’ Cassie leaped to her feet, took a step forward and then stopped. She was paralysed, but not by what he was saying. She felt

every muscle in her body tense as she watched that log, rolled by the gentle tide. It flopped in the shallow surf, and once more was dragged

back by the tide. Rolled, and flopped again.

Logs didn’t flop.

It wasn’t a log.

Cassie gave a strangled cry, and jumped down from the rock. She heard Richard running too, but he wasn’t shouting after her. He must

have seen what she’d seen. When she reached the water’s edge he was right beside her.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered.

Together they stared at it, sucked out once more into deeper water by the turning tide. A limp arm, and a featureless head, and wasted

legs.

A corpse.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cassie splashed out into the water, Richard close behind, both of them snatching helplessly at the darkness. It was as if the waves

taunted them, gentle as they were. With a whimper Cassie grabbed for what might have been the remains of a sleeve – or perhaps skin –

only to lose her hold and see the corpse sucked back out by the undertow.

She gave a furious sob of frustration as Richard put an arm round her and pulled her back.

‘We’ll call someone,’ he shouted, his phone already in his free hand. ‘We’ll get help.’

‘Sod help!’ she screamed. ‘It’s too sodding late for help!’

With that she jerked free of his hold, clenched her fists. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t . Not when she’d just been remembering how alive