Gabriella Poole - Divided Souls (Darke Academy)

dialled Richard.

‘Richard? Hey. It’s Cassie.’

‘Like I’d fail to recognise those dulcet tones, beautiful. But you sound tense. Anything I can, uh, help with?’

She could practically hear his grin through the receiver, but she had to ignore it. ‘Look, I’ve found something. Do you think you could

come over?’

He was knocking on her door within minutes of her call.

‘That’s an invitation I can’t refuse. What’s the mystery, then?’

‘Look at this.’ She drew him over to the desk, sat him down, and fanned out the pages before him. ‘See what you make of it.’

Leaning closer to her, Cassie felt guilt shimmer through her along with the electricity of attraction. Now certainly wasn’t the time – not

with the situation with Ranjit looking more and more serious with every passing moment.

Richard skimmed the text, quickly turning the pages, occasionally hesitating over an obscured word. It took him perhaps ten minutes to

read the lot.

‘This certainly makes a lot of things a bit clearer.’ Shaking his head, he sat back, touching the papers almost reverently. ‘Keiko did find

that knife in Angkor Wat. I remember it well. It was something she sensed. She was sure something was there, in one of the old temples,

but she didn’t know what; she was obsessed with tracking it down. And she did. And you know what? She was never quite the same …’

Cassie watched him thoughtfully. ‘You mean she wasn’t always a crazy homicidal bitch?’

Richard laughed. ‘A crazy bitch, always. But it was like everything multiplied overnight: the crazy part and the bitch part. And she certainly

turned homicidal.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Cassie shivered.

‘Nobody else was ever allowed to touch it. She was so possessive about the thing. It was like she’d found the One Ring.’

‘Hmm,’ Cassie mumbled, her brow knit. ‘Maybe the artefacts have some strange affect on Few. Though I had the Knife, and I’d like to

think I didn’t reach crazy bitch levels of behaviour, but …’

He raised his head and studied her. ‘Well, you’re only part-Few, though. Maybe that makes a difference?’

‘Jake’s touched the Knife too, but the worst that happened to him happened before he ever touched it. Or at least, that’s what I thought

…’ Cassie’s breathing quickened. What had her friends got themselves embroiled in? What if the Knife made Jake’s vengeful nature even

worse?

Richard was reading the pages closely again. He remained silent for a few more minutes, occasionally sighing deeply. Then he shuffled

the papers into a neat pile, took a breath, and stood up quite sharply.

‘I don’t know. I don’t really know what to make of all this. But, Cassie, speaking of Keiko … Listen to me.’ He turned.

He was very close. Alarmingly close. Cassie wanted to take a step back but found she couldn’t. There was a look on his face, almost

pleading, and he was nibbling the corner of his lip in a way that made Cassie’s heart pound. He lifted his hands.

Oh God, she thought. Is he going to try and kiss me again? Please don’t let him try and kiss me. Not right now, too confusing, too

complicated—

‘Cassie, I—’

‘Hold on!’ She raised a warning finger to his face, and he started back. But instead of moving away, her body took over. Instead of

pushing him away, she found herself grabbing his head in two hands, pulling him to her, pressing her lips to his and …

Kissing him.

Richard was shocked only for a moment; then he was responding with enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. She moved her tongue to find

his, and he gave a little groan of lust. He wasn’t the only one, she thought, pulling him closer. Her fingers raked slowly, luxuriantly through

his silky hair, breathing in deeply through her nose, smelling the woody, warm scent of his skin …

Bloody hell!

Pulling back, she wobbled, getting her breath and her composure back. He looked in much the same state.

‘Well.’ She put a hand to her chest, and did her best to make a joke of it. ‘I, uh, I thought we should just … get that out of the way.’

Something flitted across his face – hurt, disappointment? – but then the shutters were down again.

‘Fair enough, beautiful,’ he retorted, winking. But there was no mirth in his voice.

She was hopelessly confused now, more about herself than about him. ‘Richard, I’m sorry. Um, were you going to tell me something?’

‘I’m not. Not sorry, I mean.’ He sounded over-bright now, like he always did in defensive mode. ‘And actually, it’s late. Let’s leave it. We

should get some sleep, think this over. It’s a lot to take in.’ He stopped and pointed to the printed pages, as though he was concerned she

might have thought he meant something else. ‘Shall I see you in the morning?’