Divided Souls (12 page)

C
assie paused with her hand on the door of her shared room and pressed her forehead to the warm wood. She was dreading the next few minutes, but this had gone beyond tact, beyond discretion, perhaps beyond loyalty. She had to talk to Isabella about what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, easing the door open and then shutting it firmly behind her, she stared at her roommate, feeling for the first time as if she barely knew her.

Looking up, Isabella smiled. ‘Hey! I was beginning to wonder where you were. Common room again?’ she added, an eyebrow raised sarcastically.

Cassie looked at her roommate, confused. ‘Well yeah I was, earlier. But it was hardly a social occasion. We’re trying to figure out what’s going on. As you might imagine, everyone’s a bit on edge.’

‘Yes, I can imagine. I feel bad, this must all be so difficult for you,’ Isabella said, then paused, smiling awkwardly as Cassie noticed the glitzy shopping bags by Isabella’s bed. ‘Yes, uh, we went shopping today. But I got you something too … Look. I thought it might cheer you up, just a little?’ Isabella reached down and rustled one of the bags. ‘Do you like it? It’s silk.’ She handed Cassie a beautifully woven scarf, but Cassie remained silent. The only thing she could think was: was Isabella feeling guilty? Was this actually designed to make
her
feel better?

‘We went to Hussein Chalayan, and Umit Unal.’ Isabella continued babbling. ‘Honestly, Cassie. If you think I’m bad with a gold card, you should see Alice …’

Cassie stared at her cheerful roommate, baffled. Then she realised. ‘Isabella. You haven’t heard? I thought it would have spread like lightning.’

‘Heard what?’ Isabella was drawing something velvety and expensive out of one of the bags.

‘Isabella.’ Cassie sat down on the bed, clutching the fistfuls of bedspread to stop her hands shaking. ‘Yusuf’s dead.’

Isabella froze. ‘
What?
Cassie … how could you let me go on …? Oh my God. How?’

‘He was found …’ Cassie took a breath. ‘I mean, I found him. Down by the shore. Richard and me.’

‘But. That’s … that’s awful!’

‘You haven’t been out of the room this evening? Didn’t you hear all the commotion?’

‘No, I … I’ve been busy – homework …’

The silence between them was electric. Cassie narrowed her eyes, watching Isabella closely. But it seemed Isabella was no more going to lower her gaze than she was. There was no way around it. She was just going to have to come right out and ask. She took a breath, and closed her eyes briefly.

‘Isabella, has Jake been in touch with you? I need to know.’

The muscles of her friend’s face tightened, and she hesitated. ‘Why?’

‘Because he’s in Istanbul.’

She watched Isabella’s rigid face, desperate for some sign that it was a shock. That she hadn’t known. The girl could be pleased, indignant, hysterical with delight, she didn’t care. Just so long as she
hadn’t known
…

But Isabella just stuffed the dress she had been pulling out back into its expensive-looking bag, before speaking again in a clipped tone. ‘What makes you think he’s in Istanbul?’

Cassie clenched her jaw. ‘Sir Alric had news. Jake’s been seen.’

‘Oh.’ Isabella turned away to check her reflection, quite unnecessarily, in the gilded mirror. Cassie could see worry and panic flicker into her roommate’s eyes in the glinting surface.

‘Isabella!’ Cassie wanted to grab her, shake her. She stood up, clenching her fists. ‘Don’t you care about what’s happening around here?’

‘Of course!’ Isabella shouted, turning on her heel. ‘Of course I do. I’m so sorry about Yusuf, but I … I can’t do anything. What do you expect me to do?’

‘If you’d seen him you wouldn’t be so cavalier,’ said Cassie bitterly. ‘He washed up on the beach. Richard and I found him. And …’ She hesitated, staring at Isabella, desperate for any sign of the old friend who would have been bursting with concern for Cassie at this point. But Isabella was like stone, impenetrable. ‘And he was hardly recognisable. He looked like … he looked like Keiko. Just like she did, after that Knife went into her. Dried up. Mummified.’

‘He looked like
Jake’s sister
, you mean. After Jess was
drained of all her life-force
.’ Isabella’s tone had turned very cold.

‘Yes! Like Jess, then! Isabella, why are you being like this?’

‘I could ask you the same question.’ The Argentinian girl stood up abruptly and faced her. ‘What are you implying, Cassie? Jake has the Knife, you know that as much as I do. But you seriously think he’s running round Istanbul murdering students? Oh, you know him
really
well, don’t you!’

‘That’s not fair—’

‘Why not?’ snapped Isabella, eyes flashing. ‘It’s fairer than what you’re saying! Mikhail’s dead? Yusuf’s dead, he looks like that knife killed him? Oh, and Jake just
happens
to be in Istanbul, which you only know because Sir Alric spies on him! My God, you’ve changed.’

Cassie gaped at her, unable to speak, but Isabella only glared, arms folded. At last she stuttered, ‘I’m sorry, Isabella, it’s just that I’m worried about Ranjit. He’s the only one still missing …’

‘Oh, I
see
. And Jake thinks Ranjit killed his sister, so you’re accusing Jake, who used to be your
friend
, Cassie Bell, of killing
him
! How could you?’

That did it. Her own rage raced back. ‘How
could
I? Jake would do anything to get back at Ranjit! Even though he hasn’t got a
shred
of proof that Ranjit did anything to Jess! He’s so bloody prejudiced against anyone who’s Few, he’d—’

‘Oh, yes, the precious Few,’ sneered Isabella. ‘Your new friends. Such good new friends, you can’t be bothered with the old ones. Well, you know what, Cassie? You’re welcome to them, and they’re welcome to you. It’s isn’t some spirit that’s changed you. You’ve done it all by yourself!’

‘Isabella—’

‘Don’t even talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.’ Isabella grabbed her bag and a sweater, and stormed to the door. ‘I don’t want to be near you right now.’

Cassie couldn’t watch her leave. She put her hands over her mouth, blinking back tears of shock and frustration, until the door slammed with an apocalyptic crash. When Isabella’s footsteps had faded, she sank back on to the bed and stared in disbelief at her own mirrored image.

Her heart was thundering, and she put a hand to her chest. That reminded her of Estelle, who, right on cue, chimed in.

Cassandra, what have you done? We’re already hungry, my
dear, we must be careful, we mustn’t lose her …

‘Shut up, Estelle,’ Cassie murmured bitterly. She felt rotten. Sheer, bloddy, miserably awful. The last thing she wanted in the world was to fall out with Isabella, and she didn’t give a damn right now as to whether Estelle was concerned about keeping her appetite in check.

Even that horrible fight was only the surface, she knew it. Isabella had probably been wanting to spit those words at her for most of the term, and maybe there was some truth in them. There was a lot more to it, though. Cassie knew how much Isabella loved Jake. She knew her friend’s ferocious, burning loyalty, and how violently she defended those she loved; it was just that she’d never been on the receiving end before.

But there was more. Isabella was hiding something.

The girl hadn’t been surprised about Jake being here. The Isabella Cassie knew would have leaped up, whooping, and demanded they go searching for him that very moment. No, Isabella had known Jake was in Istanbul, and if she knew that, then she’d also been in contact with him. She wouldn’t
not
.

And layered over everything was the memory of Yusuf’s body, and Cassie’s certainty that the Knife was responsible for the state of it. What if … what if Ranjit … She couldn’t bring herself to add that all into the equation. She could only hope. Wait.

But since they’d wrenched it from Keiko’s grip, only one person beside herself had had access to that blade.

Jake Johnson.

C
assie woke wishing she had another hangover; anything would be better than feeling the way she did. That brown dove was squatting complacently on the windowsill again, cooing its head off. She flung her bedside book at it, missing by a mile, and it took off with an indignant flapping of wings. In the new silence she slumped back, then heard a muezzin begin to call from some mainland minaret. Then another. Groaning, Cassie pulled her pillow over her head.

She’d heard Isabella leave an hour earlier, but she just wasn’t up to facing her roommate, so she’d kept her eyes shut and her breathing regular, and Isabella had left in very unusual silence. Each had known the other was awake, but both of them had kept up the pretence.

It wasn’t as if the girl had had an early night; Cassie had heard her creep in very late. She suspected Isabella had known she was still awake then, too, but just like this morning they had both pretended otherwise. Not a word had passed between them since their bitter quarrel.

And this morning there she was, up and out without so much as a good morning. Cassie sat up and ran her hands miserably through her hair. Since when did Isabella choose an early breakfast? This whole situation was unbearable.

No point trying to get back to sleep, not with her head whirling like this. She couldn’t really blame muezzin and birds. Cassie headed for the shower, realising why she hated hearing the morning sounds. Even for one morning, she missed Isabella’s snoring, her grunts and loud yawns as she woke; she missed her cheerful morning bitching about the godforsaken hour.

As she trudged to her maths class with a heavy heart, Cassie felt more alone than ever. No one seemed to want to speak to her or sit with her; no one even met her eye. Maybe she was getting paranoid, but Herr Stolz’s was about the only friendly face in the room, until Richard, Ayeesha and Cormac sloped in; even the other Few ignored her.

To her face, at least. Behind her back they were taking plenty of notice.

She couldn’t miss the whispers, the looks, the muttered asides. No sniggers: at least she wasn’t being laughed at. And, though she strained her ears to check, so far no more brutal discoveries seemed to have been made.

Herr Stolz must have been well aware of the events of last night, and Cassie’s part in them, because he was kindness itself, giving her far too much attention, too many encouraging smiles, and more than her fair share of quiz questions. It did help, if only a little. She loved maths: its certainty, its simplicity, its capacity to take your mind off finding a greasy mummified corpse on your doorstep. Equations, she thought. God love ’em. She was aware that Richard was watching her surreptitiously, but she chose not to return his look. Algebra was a lot more soothing.

Soothing?

So where did she get the notion that Richard was remotely unnerving? Perhaps it was just the memory of their last encounter together, how it ended …

By the time the bell rang, she was involved enough to be sorry the class was over. She could have used double maths today. She was pleased though, that she was finally able to catch Torvald before he left the classroom. She tapped his shoulder and he turned, his face serious as though he could guess what she wanted to ask.

‘Listen, I’m … I’m getting pretty worried about Ranjit. Do you know anything, has he had to go away or something?’

Torvald watched her warily. ‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’

Cassie blinked. ‘How would I know?’

‘Well. I thought it might be Few stuff at first. You know? I don’t always hear what’s happening. I thought there might be … an emergency.’

‘Me too. I thought maybe with his family.’ Cassie bit her lip. ‘He hadn’t mentioned anything?’

‘No. He’s just disappeared.’ Torvald inhaled deeply. ‘Look, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.’ Cassie nodded, knowing that Torvald’s expression was just as worried and doubtful as her own.

Cassie sighed as she left the classroom. She was dreading walking the gauntlet of gossiping Few in the corridor – and with good reason, it seemed.

‘Dear heaven, if it isn’t the Curse of Cassandra. Get out while you can, everyone.’

Sara seemed determined to get in digs at every turn for what had happened at Carnegie Hall, thought Cassie as she tried to push past the little gang. Funny that Sara was too scared to face her alone – she always had to have a gang around, unsurprisingly – but was she ever going to get tired of baiting her?

Nope …

‘First Mikhail, now Yusuf. I wonder when she’ll consider her revenge complete? Perhaps she’s saving the best for last.’

Cassie came to a halt. Clutching her books hard, she turned and stared at Sara. ‘What are you talking about?’

Sara didn’t answer her directly. She examined her nails with a bored expression, but her comrades glowered at Cassie like a herd of malevolent cows.

‘You’d think she’d be grateful, sad little care-home girl. We brought her into the Few, gave her power beyond her wildest imaginings. Or – let’s face it – ours.’

‘Funny, as I recall, the cowards who so generously initiated me into the Few seemed pretty keen to hide their identities behind some fetching
hoods
,’ Cassie hissed.

‘Well, yes. But that’s why you’ve done this, isn’t it?’

‘Yusuf and Mikhail were … they were at the Arc de Triomphe?’ Cassie found she was shaking.

‘Oh don’t play the innocent, it
so
doesn’t suit you.’ Sara smirked. ‘I’d better watch my own step, hadn’t I, seeing as I was there, too. And, yes, Yusuf and Mikhail, of course, but it’s too late for those poor sods.’

Blood had drained from Cassie’s face. ‘I didn’t know that! Any of it!’

‘Of course you didn’t. Dear.’

‘How am I supposed to have known which of you were there? That was the whole point, wasn’t it? What do you think, I had X-ray vision or something?’ she spat. People had begun to back away from the arguing pair, exchanging worried glances, but Cassie barely noticed.

‘Heaven knows how
you
might have discovered these things,’ Sara retorted. ‘You seem to have all sorts of odd abilities, and I certainly know all about your temper, you little chavski – or should I say, what happens when you lose it. Oh, by the way! We’re all wondering when Ranjit’s bloated corpse is going to float ashore. Bet
he’s
regretting slumming it in the romance department—’

‘BITCH!’ shouted Cassie. She forgot her composure, forgot even her power, simply dropping her books to lunge for Sara with her bare hands. But as Sara skipped swiftly back, someone shouldered between them, catching Cassie in his arms.

‘Ignore her,’ whispered Richard fiercely in her ear. ‘It’s what she wants.’

Panting for breath, Cassie felt her fingertips biting into his biceps with her rage, but he didn’t flinch. He turned on Sara like a rattlesnake.

‘Back off, you overrated tart,’ he snarled.

Some of the others gasped, shocked, but Sara had already recovered her chilly dignity. She soothed them with a regally waved hand, and then jerked a thumb in Richard’s direction.

‘Little worm,’ she drawled. ‘He’s turning so fast, he’ll soon be spinning in his grave if he’s not careful.’

Richard took his own advice, ignoring Sara and dragging Cassie away. She was glad of his support for her trembling legs, but less glad that he was stopping her tearing out Sara’s throat with her teeth.

‘Come on,’ he was murmuring. ‘You can’t rise to it. You mustn’t. Why don’t we get back to your room and rip up some pillows instead, eh, beautiful?’

She couldn’t help her shaky laugh, but it was perilously close to tears. ‘I didn’t lay a finger on Yusuf or Mikhail, I swear.’

‘Of course you didn’t. Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t let her get to you.’

The walk was a blur of fury and misery. If she’d only remembered to use her power, if she hadn’t just resorted to the old Cranlake Crescent Cassie, oh, she could have got the better of Sara …

Or maybe, just maybe, she might have killed her. Cassie gave a violent shudder.

Coming back to herself, recognising the rugs and sconces and carvings of her own corridor, she shook Richard off gently. Breathing deeply, she turned to face him.

‘Richard.’ She reached for both his hands and clasped them tightly between hers. ‘How do you stand it?
Tell me
.’

‘Stand what?’ The old familiar shutters were coming down all of a sudden, and the beginnings of a false grin twitched his mouth.

‘Stop that, Richard. Stop joking about it! You know what I mean: they treat you like a pet! I mean – sometimes they indulge you, and sometimes it pleases their majesties to give you a bloody good
kicking
.’ Hearing the venom in her voice, she gulped hard, struggling to control herself. Struggling not to see the world in scarlet …

Richard’s grin subsided and he studied her, very thoughtfully. ‘Well, does that bother you? How they treat me?’

‘Yes! It bloody does!’

The corners of his lips once again began to turn up, but this time it was genuine. ‘Good to know you care,’ he said, almost to himself.

The taut knot of rage dissolved on the spot, leaving her so weak she almost stumbled. Cassie sighed raggedly as he caught her arm.

‘Anyway, I think you know the answer to your own question, since we can’t all host a spirit as powerful as Estelle Azzedine’s.’ He shrugged. ‘As for my poor little blighter … I don’t know how it’s lasted this long, to be honest. I don’t know who hosted it before me, but I reckon it’s always played both sides against the middle. Always ducking out by the skin of its teeth, I imagine, while the rest of the Few tear each other to sexily attractive shreds.’ Now it was his turn to exhale.

‘Sod that,’ she countered. ‘There’s at least one of us you can’t play.’

He smiled, and nodded. ‘Go on home.’ He placed his hand on the small of her back and edged her gently in the direction of her door. ‘You need some rest.’

‘Thanks.’ She turned the handle, grinning weakly back at him. ‘I mean it, Richard. Thanks.’ But as she took a step inside, Cassie froze.

‘Oh my God …’ she breathed.

Richard was back at her side in an instant, staring around the room along with her.

All trace of Isabella had disappeared from the room. Her photos, her books, her iPod – everything was gone from her nightstand, and her haphazard pile of make-up had been cleared from the dressing table. When Cassie ran to the wardrobe and flung it open, it was empty of dresses and coats, jumpers and shoes – and so was the chest of drawers. Isabella’s schoolwork and her laptop had disappeared. Cassie stood in the middle of their room, half expecting the whole world to disintegrate around her.

Richard was at Isabella’s made-up bed, lifting a smooth white envelope. ‘She left a note,’ he said. ‘I suppose that’s something.’

Cassie took it from him, ripping it open with her thumb. It took only a moment to scan her best friend’s untidy handwriting. She sat down heavily on Isabella’s bed, and when Richard sat down next to her and put an arm round her shoulder, she didn’t shrug him off.

Cassie dropped the letter, and it floated to the floor. ‘She’s moved in with Alice. Just for a while, she says. To give her time to think.’ She made a twisted face to stop herself bursting into tears. ‘It’s not for ever, apparently. It’s just
for now
.’

‘Blimey.’ Richard squeezed her. ‘It’s been pretty crap between you two, hasn’t it? But this is a bit of a shock.’

‘You could say that.’ Cassie rubbed her face with her sleeve.

‘Cassie. What happened between the two of you? Was it Jake?’

She nodded. ‘My fault. We kept the feeding from him. When he found out, he went into a rage, stormed off. I haven’t seen him since. Obviously it’s all been really hard for Isabella to deal with.’

They sat together in silence as it sank in. At last Richard sighed, and rubbed the fingers of his free hand against his temple.

‘
You
haven’t seen him since?’

‘What?’

‘You said
you
haven’t seen him, Cassie. I heard your emphasis.’

‘Yeah.’ Her voice sounded very small. ‘That’s the trouble. Jake’s in Istanbul.’

Richard’s whole body froze; she could feel his muscles practically go into spasm. ‘He’s
what
? What would he be doing …?’

‘He’s in Istanbul. I haven’t seen him, but Darke knows it for sure. And I think—’

‘Whoa.’ Richard was still as tense as a drum. ‘You think Isabella’s seeing him?’

‘I’m pretty sure. And she’s keeping it quiet. And I don’t know why she’d do that unless …’

‘Oh, God almighty.’ Richard released her, put his head in his hands and ran his hands quickly through his hair. ‘Jessica, Ranjit, the Few, revenge … it’s OK, Cassie, I’m getting there. I’m not as stupid as I make out.’

‘Tell me, though.’ Cassie stared at her hands, twisting them together. ‘Was Sara telling me the truth back there? About who was at my initiation?’

‘Yes. Yes, that was true.’

‘So if Jake has somehow found that out too …’ Cassie put her hand over her mouth for a moment, feeling sick. ‘He could be trying to set me up?’

‘Oh, come on. I can’t believe he’d be involved with the deaths.’

‘I don’t want to believe it myself, but then why’s he lying bloody low?’ She gave him a bleak look.

‘And you reckon Isabella’s helping him?’

‘I can’t imagine she wouldn’t,’ said Cassie miserably. ‘She loves him.’

‘And we’re all suckers for love.’ Richard was silent for a moment. ‘What a mess.’

Cassie took another look around her room – her now-single room – and felt hot tears slide down her face. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘She’ll come around. She’s all right, our bella Isabella. She wouldn’t know a grudge if it came up and slapped her arse.’

She couldn’t even laugh. ‘It’s not that. I mean, not
just
that.’

‘Oh.’ Alarmed, Richard took her chin gently in his fingers and turned her to face him. ‘When did you last feed?’

‘A while ago,’ she confessed miserably. ‘The night of the island party. And not much even then.’