Lost in Thought (16 page)

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Yet as I had that thought, my stomach twisted uneasily. I knew why, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself. It came back around, of course, to a boy. Leaving Sententia behind would mean leaving Carter behind. A small part of me thought that, in the long run, that would probably be a relief, for the best. But most of me wanted to cry or throw up at the idea of it. And
that
finally forced me to accept what I wanted, maybe
needed
, to do. I decided to take Amy’s advice from the other day and pair it with my own. I would start living for where I was now, and for better or for worse, or possibly for incredibly stupid, with Carter was where I wanted to be.

TO MY SURPRISE, it was Jeff Revell who greeted me when I arrived at their apartment. Melinda waved from where she stood at the stove behind him.

“Lainey, welcome, come in,” Jeff said in his deep, quiet voice, extending his hand to me. I shook it, and it was as strong and masculine as I expected. “We’ve never met officially. Please call me Jeff.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “and thank you for having me. Home-cooked meals are a real treat for me, even before I got to Northbrook.”

“Well, we’re glad you could join us,” Melinda said as she bustled over to give me a quick and surprising hug. We’d never hugged before, but I liked it. It felt reassuring, motherly. I knew Melinda and Jeff had never been able to have children, though Carter had essentially become theirs the same way I’d become Aunt Tessa’s. “I hope you like pot roast!” She promptly opened the oven, releasing the most mouth-watering aroma I’d smelled, well, possibly ever. Our kitchens, wherever my aunt and I’d happened to be, usually smelled like coffee or takeout.

“I’m 100% sure I’ll like it, if that’s what smells so amazing,” I said emphatically. “Can I help with anything?”

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“No, honey, not at all. You’re our guest tonight. You can probably find Carter setting the table in the dining room.”

“It’s through there,” Jeff said, pointing helpfully at one of the doorways.

I could see Carter smiling at me from the end of a big table, where he was folding napkins crisply and precisely. I’d never been in most of the rest of the apartment, though I knew it was spacious since it took up the entire third floor of the building. The dining room was, like the kitchen, cheerful and inviting, with more of the gorgeous woodwork that also decorated much of the bookstore and a large, probably antique dining set complemented by fresh, modern paint and place settings. I imagined the rest of the place was equally beautiful and well balanced. I kind of wanted to live there.

“Hi,” he said from his post at the table end. That was it. I thought he might be…nervous. It was charming, in a different way than usual.

“Hi,” I repeated with a smile. “Want some help?”

“Sure.” He handed over his stack of napkins. “You can put these out. But don’t tell my aunt,” he added hastily. “Guests aren’t supposed to help with anything.”

“I heard that, Cartwright!” came Melinda’s voice from the kitchen.

Carter smiled, but didn’t take back the napkins. I noticed that he’d started clearing
away
a place setting.

“Is someone not eating?” I wondered. There were still four settings left on the table.

“Jill. She was supposed to join us, but she called right before you got here and said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh! Well, that’s too bad. I hope she’s not sick for break. I’m surprised she’s still here. Most of the students are already gone.”

“She’s actually from Wyoming, so she flies out on Saturday morning. There aren’t many flights to Sheridan.”

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“Wow. Long way from home. Why doesn’t she go to the school in California? That would be a lot closer for her,” I said, before realizing how silly that was. “Oh wait, she’s Legacy. Duh.”

“Right,” he said. “Though I think she wanted to go to Webber.”

That was the West Coast Sententia school.

“Is she not happy here? She’s…kind of a loner, except for hanging out with you, I guess, but I think that’s mostly by her choice. I know she does well in classes, and Headmaster Stewart gushes about her.

She’s a good swimmer too, one of the best on the team, besides Caleb.

Kicks my butt.” I was moving slowly around the table, arranging the silverware on my napkins, while Carter followed with wine and water glasses for each of us.

He laughed. “I’ve noticed that. For someone so tall, I thought you’d be better.”

Carter came to my swim meets?
I thought frantically. Well if
that
wasn’t embarrassing, I didn’t know what was. “I, uh, didn’t know you came to our meets,” I squeaked. What surprised me most was that Amy didn’t tell me he was there.

“Guilty,” he said, though he didn’t seem very guilty at all, based on the sly grin on his face. “I’ve always tried to slip in at least for a little while to watch Jillian. And now you too.”

“But…why didn’t you ever say so?! And why don’t you sit with Amy? She never noticed you there either.”

The sly grin transitioned to a sheepish one. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I try to stick to the shadows. Some of your classmates give me shit if I’m noticed at the swim meets and not their field hockey games.”

I snorted. “I don’t need three guesses to know who you’re talking about. I’m kind of surprised, actually,” I said.

“That I don’t go to field hockey games?”

“That you never dated Alexis.”

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He laughed again, a deep, belly laugh of true amusement. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Well, you do seem to get along with her, and she’s certainly not shy about making her interest known. And she’s so beautiful,” I tacked on at the end, deciding to go ahead and say what I really meant.

Carter gave me what I could only describe as a withering look. “I might like Alexis just fine, but I’d never date her. She’s not looking for a boyfriend…she’s looking for someone to worship her like a goddess.

That’s not going to be me, despite how much she might like it to be.

And besides, she’s not as beautiful as you.”

I might have appreciated the compliment, but I returned his withering look. “C’mon, Carter. She’s more beautiful than anyone, me included.”

“That’s just it, she’s not,” he said, and tugged me down into the chair I’d been leaning on as he sat next to me. “I mean, I know she’s gorgeous. I’m not blind. But…see, the difference is, it’s not that I think you’re a girl who doesn’t know she’s pretty. It’s that you don’t think it makes you
special
. Alex thinks her beauty makes her something important and with her gift, people usually agree with her. That…that makes her less beautiful. I like to flirt with Alex—what guy doesn’t?— but otherwise, I keep my distance.”

That made sense to me from what I’d always observed of him.

Carter was as attractive as anyone, and he certainly knew it, but he never acted like a jerk because of it. “What’s her gift got to do with it?”

I asked. “And what
is
her gift? Besides an unfairly beautiful face and a bitchy attitude.”

He barked a laugh. “Those gifts are naturally hers, for sure. Her
Sententia
gift…basically, people want to believe her. She’s
convincing
.

Like charisma on steroids. It’s why she’ll make a great actress someday.

You’ve noticed her flair for the dramatic already, I’m sure. We call her group
Praeconor
or Heralds. Their gifts project onto others.”

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So that explained why, like Amy said, Alexis was so compelling. I started to ask something else but was interrupted by Melinda striding into the room carrying a salad and rolls, followed by Jeff carrying a huge platter of magnificent-looking pot roast. “Dinner is served,”

Melinda sang, setting down her bowls and taking the seat across from me. Jeff took the seat at the head of the table.

Thus commenced an enjoyable dinner, one that tasted every bit as divine as it smelled. I complimented Melinda nearly every time my mouth wasn’t full of her amazing meal. We talked comfortably while we ate and I found I was enjoying myself immensely with absolutely no effort on my part. I felt…welcome, at their table, in their family. It was a wonderful feeling, and I luxuriated in it throughout the meal.

About halfway through, Melinda made another surprising gesture.

“Lainey,” she said, “I don’t know if you’re committed to the Academy dinner—I’m sure Constance wants you to attend—but we’d love to have you and your aunt join us for Thanksgiving. What do you think?”

I thought that was the most wonderful invitation I’d had in years, and I told her as much. But Dr. Stewart had already made sure we’d be at the Academy dinner, so I suggested we come for dessert instead.

“Any time you can join us at all would be wonderful,” Melinda replied. “We can’t wait to meet your aunt, though maybe I’ll get the chance earlier in the week. Carter told me about his plan to take you shopping for…practice objects, and I think it’s a good one. Plus it sounds fun. I thought I’d come with you at least once.”

I was afraid I was about to ruin our enjoyable dinner, but here was the perfect opening to ask the few questions about the Perceptum I had left. I gave a silent apology before saying, “I think we’d both like that, Melinda, thank you. Though I hope I’m not keeping Carter, and you, from too much of your work…at the bookstore or, you know, your other job.”

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Jeff actually laughed, and it transformed him from not just handsome to intoxicating, in the same way that Carter’s smiles transformed his face. I found myself smiling in response. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lainey,” he said. “You’re more important right now than reading news clippings for the Perceptum all day anyway.”

I looked at Carter and then Melinda. “Is that what you spend a lot of time doing?” I asked. That wasn’t what I expected. Actually, I didn’t
know
what I expected, but reading the news wasn’t it. I supposed it made sense though.

Carter made a face. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s…kind of boring, honestly. Not very sexy, either.”

Melinda looked at Carter fondly, then back to me. “He loves it, honey. Don’t let him fool you. Besides running and reading, there’s not much else Carter likes to do. Except spend time with you, that is.”

It was the kind of statement that would make most boys roll their eyes or blush uncomfortably, but not Carter. He just smiled and winked at me. “But yes,” she continued, “we read a lot, the two of us, looking for clues, I guess you could say. It
is
a little tedious sometimes, but we’re a good team. I see the patterns—that’s my gift, by the way,
Ex-emplar Aspicio
if you want the technical term—and Carter remembers the details. Jeff really does the hard part.” He was, apparently, the Sententia investigator because he found things. Literally. That was a
Venator’s
gift.

I thought it must be quite expensive to travel so much. “I hope this isn’t rude to ask,” I started, “but…how do you pay for all of the Perceptum work you do? You don’t have to do it yourselves, I hope.”

“No,” Jeff answered. “And it’s fine to ask, Lainey. You won’t insult us. The Perceptum pays the expenses.”

I considered that for a minute. “How? I mean…well, where do they get the money? They’re not a business, right?”

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“No,” Jeff said again. “They’re definitely not a business, not in the traditional sense, but the Perceptum has plenty of funding to continue its mission long into the future. They established an endowment long ago and most members still contribute to it, depending on their means.

Council members are actually required to pledge a percentage of their earrings.”

I seized on Jeff’s words and pushed forward into my
real
questions.

“What exactly
is
the Perceptum’s mission?” I asked carefully. “I understand about…recognizing and trying to prevent harmful Sententia activity. But…what if the person isn’t interested in the Perceptum?

What then?”

Carter chimed in this time. “They don’t necessarily have to be. No one’s forced to join, and we don’t hand out membership cards. There’s no secret handshake either, in case you wondered.” He was joking, but there was more here. I
knew
there was more behind all of this.

“Okay…” I stalled, thinking furiously about how to put words to my sense of foreboding about the Perceptum. “So they don’t have to join the Perceptum…but what if they’re not interested in
discretion
either? That’s the motto, right?”

And there it was: hesitation. I knew then that I’d tapped the root of my fears. Carter said slowly, as if measuring his words, “If an individual isn’t interested in that…the Perceptum tries to convince them of its importance.”

“And what if ‘convincing them’ doesn’t work?” I demanded. Carter looked away and Melinda looked at me sympathetically. Jeff was the only one who maintained a level gaze. And that was the moment I knew the truth. If the person couldn’t be convinced with words, the Perceptum convinced them in another way, maybe the
final
way. “Oh my God,” I whispered.

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Jeff’s gentle voice confirmed my fears. “If persuasion doesn’t work, and the individual resisting discretion is deemed a danger to exposure, then the Council may vote to eliminate the problem.”

Holy. Shit. Holy F-ing SHIT.
So they
killed
people? Killed people.