Gabriella Poole - Blood Ties (Darke Academy)

century, which is why we should listen, hear what she is telling us, because we will gain so much more than we will learn from semi-literate

texting throughout our class.’

Uh-oh. Cassie gulped, but Isabella hadn’t even heard Madame’s warning. When the woman stalked to her side and snapped her fingers

for the phone, Isabella almost jumped out of her skin.

‘You may have it back after class,’ said Madame Lefevre curtly. ‘On this occasion.’

Miserable, visibly reluctant, Isabella passed her phone into Madame’s waiting palm, and caught Cassie’s eye. Cassie could only try to

send her psychic messages of sympathy. Madame wasn’t the strictest teacher in the school; Isabella had been really blatant.

Still, Cassie didn’t know why Madame Lefevre had bothered to confiscate the phone; it wasn’t as if Isabella concentrated any harder on

Simone de Beauvoir for the remaining twenty minutes. She wrung her fingers beneath her desk, staring unseeing at her textbook, and

shooting anxious glances out of the window at the Manhattan skyline. She certainly wasn’t learning anything.

Cassie waited for Isabella while she endured her after-class dressing-down. Her fingers were twitching, and when Madame finally gave

her the phone back she rushed from class, dialling frantically.

‘Call failed. Again! Why is his phone switched off?’

‘I don’t know.’ What else was there to say? She could hardly tell Isabella not to worry. Jake had been beyond furious. ‘I’m so sorry,

Isabella.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Isabella patted her arm. ‘It’s mine. I said you could feed, didn’t I? It was I who panicked. And all because …’ Tears

sprang to her eyes. ‘All because I insisted on keeping it from Jake. I didn’t want you to lie to me, but then I lied to him. You see? It’s my

fault.’

That made Cassie feel even worse. ‘Isabella, you mustn’t—’

‘I tell you, he must have gone home to Queens.’ Her friend’s gaze was distant. ‘I just don’t know why he won’t even speak to me. And I’m

afraid if I turn up at his parents’ house, he’ll just get even more angry … Maybe they won’t even let me in.’

‘Wait, Isabella, you want to go to his house? I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.’ She was panicking a little – Cassie had hoped to

get a chance to speak to Jake before Isabella got to him. Her roommate still wasn’t aware that Jake knew Katerina was in New York. She

needed to know exactly what Jake was planning, and didn’t want Isabella any more involved than she had to be. She owed the girl that

much.

‘Maybe it’s not. But I have to try, don’t I?’ Isabella came to a halt, breathing hard. She swiped at her eyes. ‘Still, I’m really worried. I mean,

his parents were not happy about him coming back to school. Of course that made him feel bad. But he came back anyway, and that was at

least partly for me. And now the feeding – and me lying – that has been the tripping point. Yes? He has left the school and gone home. And

I think he won’t ever come back! All my fault!’ she wailed.

‘Isabella, calm down. He’ll be back.’

‘No, Cassie. He won’t come back on his own. If only I can talk to him, say I’m sorry, make him understand.’

‘Isabella …’

‘After school. I’m going to see him. That’s it, that’s the only solution.’

Cassie sighed. ‘That’s what you were thinking about instead of Simone de Beauvoir.’

‘I’ll make it up to Simone later.’ The fire was back in Isabella’s eyes. ‘But in the meantime, I think she’d understand.’

Cassie shook her head. ‘OK. Well you’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.’

Cassie glanced at the afternoon sky, still as crystal-clear and stunning as it had been when they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and gaped at

the view of the city, but now a covering of icy grey clouds were hovering on the horizon.

‘It’s going to snow soon. You’re sure you know where—’

‘There!’ Isabella leaned forward to the taxi driver. ‘Right down this street.’

Cassie peered out of the cab window at the dilapidated buildings. ‘I have a feeling they’re not going to be happy to see us.’

‘I don’t care if they are or not. I must speak to Jake.’ Isabella flicked through her leather Gucci organiser. ‘Now, let me find the exact

number … Ah, here! Here, driver, please!’ Her sudden shriek made the driver start and growl a curse. He pulled the cab to a halt, and

Isabella quickly handed over the fare and leaped out. Cassie followed closely behind her.

‘Hold the door, please,’ Isabella called as an elderly man exited the apartment building. He looked a little dubious, but as Isabella

approached and smiled sweetly, he nodded and obliged.

‘What number is it?’ Cassie asked.

‘Five-eighteen,’ said Isabella, her face now serious again.