Gabriella Poole - Divided Souls (Darke Academy)

slender gold bracelet. But there was little doubt she was heading back to the pier and the boat, and when she turned down the lane to the

waterside, Cassie at last gave up the chase.

There didn’t seem much point in risking getting caught on the same boat as Isabella this time. She would hang back and wait for the next

one: no way was she pushing her luck any further. Lingering in the narrow lane, back against the old stone, she wondered what on earth

to do next. She had a good bit of time to kill till the Academy ferry returned.

What had been the point? She’d thought she was on to something, thought she would solve at least one of the wretched mysteries that

were dogging her, but she’d wasted her time, wasted half the energy she’d drained out of Perry. She’d lost her chance to make it up with

Isabella; instead she’d spied on her like a thief. And she’d also failed to find Jake, and so was no closer to finding out where Ranjit was. Or

what had happened to him. Adrenalin seeped out of her like water out of a sponge. She was empty, drained and miserable.

Maybe that was why, very suddenly, she knew the tables had turned on her.

Someone’s watching us!

Yes.

Cassie went absolutely still. Estelle was right. She’d felt that strong sense before, that knowledge that she was being watched. Before,

when they’d been in Cukurcuma! Taking a moment to psyche herself up, she drew a deep breath, then spun on her heel.

A small movement; barely enough to be seen, but someone had ducked behind that high building at the end of the alleyway. Cassie

narrowed her eyes, then sprinted back, flinging herself round the corner.

Nothing. No one.

She stopped, breathing hard, uncertain. Had there been anyone, or was it nothing but her overactive imagination again?

Oh, stop lying to yourself, dearest! You know when you’re being watched. You know as well as I do .

‘Estelle,’ she murmured. ‘Estelle, was it him? Was it Ranjit?’

For seconds Estelle was silent, as if Cassie had taken her by surprise.

Dear oh dear, Cassandra. You mustn’t maintain this state of denial. Of course it wasn’t him!

Cassie was aware of the stares she was attracting – standing here talking to herself like a madwoman – but she was annoyed enough to

snap at Estelle. ‘How would you know?’ she hissed.

We had a history, his spirit and I, long before you joined our little soirée …

‘Well, I’ve felt this before. I’ve been followed, by Ranjit, and I know what his eyes … h-his eyes watching me feels like!’ She took several

deep breaths, desperate tears stinging her eyes. Yet the spirit was unrelenting.

Ha! You think I don’t? You’re wrong, my dear. You’re believing what you want to believe .

Angrily Cassie shook her off. Was it wishful thinking, to imagine Ranjit was tailing her footsteps, silent for some unfathomable reason

but unable to leave her alone? It seemed so absurdly unlikely, after all.

But that was how it had felt the last time. It was the same strong tingle of fearful anticipation she’d felt when Ranjit had stalked her

through the corridors of a Paris mansion. She’d been so sure, when she turned that corner, she’d see those roiling, gold-glowing, animal

eyes. To be so hopeful – and then so mistaken – was a bitter blow to her heart. And it came on top of the horrible realisation that she was

so very lonely, that she missed Isabella like crazy.

OK, she had to calm down. So she was either getting paranoid and developing a persecution complex, or someone sinister really was

following her. Neither option boded well for her social life – or her life in general. Whichever it was, she’d better keep her strength up …

A kofte vendor on the pavement beside her was eyeing her with visible nerves. Cassie shook herself, and managed a strained smile. She

was unexpectedly hungry: that unassuageable hunger that meant she hadn’t fed enough, or had used up too much energy. Kofte would be

the most temporary of stopgaps, but she bought one anyway, stuffed with roasted peppers between chunks of oily bread. She bit into it

with such ferocity that the stallholder flinched and pretended to look the other way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It wasn’t as if Latin was her favourite or her best subject. It had waited all these centuries; it could manage another ninety minutes

without her. Cassie wasn’t willing to wait another single one, let alone an interminable double period of bloody Virgil. Yusuf and Mikhail

were dead, and Ranjit might be next. He might already— No! She refused even to contemplate the possibility. But with still no word from

him, Cassie was now adamant that it was time to take the initiative.

There was only one place to start looking. Cassie went straight to Ranjit’s room, half hoping that it would be empty and that she’d have

peace to prowl, but it wasn’t to be. When the door began to open to her knock, her breath caught in her throat and her heart leaped –