The Dolls (19 page)

I’m still grumbling to myself as I head out the front door, and I almost trip over Caleb, who’s inexplicably sitting on my doorstep. He hastily stands and brushes his hands off. “Sorry, I didn’t know if your aunt was up yet, and I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask. Even though I have bigger things to worry about, his instant dismissal of me on the walk home from Peregrine’s still stings.

“I wanted to explain what I meant on Saturday night.”

“Oh, I think it was pretty clear,” I tell him. I lock the door behind me and start walking down the driveway. “Let me recap: You could never imagine dating me, even though you don’t find me
entirely
repulsive. That about the gist of it?”

He falls into step beside me, even though his Jeep is still parked in my driveway. “You don’t understand.”

“Don’t I?”

“Eveny—” He attempts to interject, but I’m on a roll.

“I know I’m an outcast here. I know I don’t really belong with the Dolls. But if you’re not interested in me, why do you keep lurking around being all sexy and intriguing?”

He stops walking. “You think I’m sexy and intriguing?”

I groan. He’s missing the point.

After a moment, he hurries to catch up with me. “Eveny, I’m not trying to jerk you around.”

I snort. “Yeah, well, your social skills could use a little work.”

“I know.” He hesitates. “The thing is, I do like you. A lot.”

This time, I’m the one who stops walking. “What?”

“I like you, Eveny.”

A whole fleet of butterflies invades my stomach. I try to keep my face neutral. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”

“The thing is, I’m trying my best to stop having these feelings for you.”

The words hit me hard, and I start walking again so that he can’t see my face. “Gee, sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

He grabs my arm and spins me around. “Would you stop being sarcastic and listen to me?” He takes a deep breath and blurts out, “I’m not
allowed
to be in love with you. I’m not allowed to date you. I’m not allowed to be feeling this way at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m your protector, Eveny,” he says. “For as long as Carrefour has existed, my family has protected your family.”

“My protector?”

“It was all established in the town’s founding ceremony,” he explains. He looks miserable. “There’s one protector for each queen. We’re specially charmed and trained to guard you, and there are rules that go along with it, just like there are rules dictating everything else in this damned town.”

I realize what he means. “And one of the rules is that you can’t have feelings for the person you’re protecting.”

He nods. “As long as you’re inside Carrefour’s walls, I’m supposed to be able to sense when you’re in danger. But the more I feel for you, the fuzzier the protectorate link gets. Like, I don’t know, the way Wi-Fi slows down when there are too many people using it.”

I choke out a laugh, despite everything. “You’re comparing your feelings for me to a slow internet connection?”

“Maybe not the best analogy ever.” He half smiles, but the expression quickly disappears as he adds, “Look, I’m sorry. But if I keep letting myself feel this way, I’m putting you in danger. And I can’t do that.”

I take a deep breath, trying to absorb what he’s saying. “But what if I’m willing to risk not being protected?”

“Why would you do that?” he asks, his voice catching.

“Because I like you too,” I say, “and I’m getting sick of some ancestral pact running my life.”

There’s sadness etched across his face as he says, “I can’t run from who I am any more than you can. I’ll just have to figure out a way to stop having these feelings.” He pauses and says, “I just thought I owed you an explanation.”

Without another word, he walks back up the hill and gets into his Jeep. I stay glued to the spot as he guns the engine and comes down my driveway to where I’m standing. “Get in,” he says as he pulls up alongside me.

“I’m okay walking,” I say, trying not to think of the first time I climbed into his car, when electricity crackled between us and anything felt possible. It feels like an eternity has passed since then.

“Eveny, you know I have to keep an eye on you. It’ll be a lot easier if you’re in my passenger seat.”

“Fine,” I say after a minute, climbing into his car and slamming the door behind me.

We ride the rest of the way to school in silence, and when he drops me off in the parking lot, he says that he has to go.

“Go where?” I ask, surprised.

“Training,” he says, his jaw stiff, “with Patrick and Oscar, Peregrine’s and Chloe’s protectors.”

“Oh,” I manage. “What do you do exactly?”

“It’s part intensive workout, part martial arts, part reflex training and speed. But the biggest thing is reviewing years’ worth of intel our fathers, their fathers, and their fathers’ fathers have gathered on Main de Lumière. It’s about knowing exactly how they might hurt you and staying one step ahead.”

“So you’re training to be a killing machine?”

I expect him to laugh, but instead, his mouth straightens into a thin line. “We’re trained to kill, but that’s always the last resort.”

“I was joking.”

He looks sad. “I know. So I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Wait,” I add. “All this protector stuff. Why tell me now?”

He hesitates for a moment before saying, “All these years, I figured I’d hate you, which would make protecting you easy because there wouldn’t be any feelings involved. But then I saw you for the first time, and I felt exactly the opposite. I still do.” He drives off without another word and my Stone of Carrefour, which is hidden under my standard-issue oxford shirt, heats up against my chest.

I’m floating down the hall in a fog of my own making a few minutes later when I hear Mona Silvestre from my French class saying to a guy near her locker, “Holy crap, did you hear what happened to that guy from LSU?”

“I heard he was murdered right outside the gate to Carrefour!” the guy replies.

I hurry to my own locker, where more people are gossiping around me as I grab my books. “Dude, some frat guy was stabbed to death,” a soccer player named Phil Demetroux is saying. “I heard it was so gruesome that the police chief barfed all over the crime scene.”

By the time I make it to first period English, I’ve managed to piece together the full story through snippets of hallway gossip, and I’m chilled to the bone.

Apparently, sometime on Saturday night, one of the LSU guys on Peregrine’s guest list was stabbed to death just outside the city walls. But since his car wasn’t found, police speculate that someone stopped him on the road, perhaps pretending to be injured, and killed him to steal his car.

“What the hell?” I hiss at Peregrine as soon as she takes her seat beside me in class. “You said nothing bad would happen if we opened the gates for a few hours!”

She looks at me defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Someone is
dead
!”

“Quiet down, okay?” I’m surprised to see Peregrine looking tearful. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way. I swear, Eveny, I don’t know what could have happened!”

Chloe slides into her seat then, looking equally disturbed.

“Eveny’s pissed at us,” Peregrine mumbles.

“We didn’t know this would happen,” Chloe says miserably.

“Well, this should really help us keep Carrefour off Main de Lumière’s radar,” I mutter. “Nice work.”

Chloe and Peregrine spend the remainder of class staring straight ahead. When the bell rings, they pick up their things and dash out without another word. My Stone of Carrefour continues to hum against my chest.

In third period French, before the bell rings, Drew pulls his desk over to mine and whispers, “You heard about that dead frat guy?”

I nod without looking at him. I don’t want to give anything away with my eyes. “Pretty awful.”

“Doesn’t it seem kind of strange to you that someone would be stabbed to death right outside our gates for no apparent reason?”

I shrug and look away. “Totally strange.”

“What was he even doing here?” Drew asks.

I’m saved from answering as Mrs. Toliver calls the class to order and begins talking about irregular verbs. Drew reluctantly scoots his desk back, but I can feel his gaze on me all through class.

At lunch, I deliberately avoid locking eyes with Peregrine or Chloe; instead, I grab a lunch tray and get in the caf line with Liv and Max, who look surprised to see me.

“You’re not eating with the Dolls today?” Max asks.

“I’d just rather eat with you guys.”

“See?” Liv says to Max. “I told you she wasn’t one of them.”

Max shrugs. “Yeah, but who wouldn’t want to be?
I
even want to be a Doll.”

Liv rolls her eyes at him, and I force a laugh. I order some gross-looking lasagna from the cafeteria lady, grab a carton of chocolate milk and follow Liv and Max to a table in the center of the caf once we’ve all paid. I’ve just taken my first bite of the lasagna, which isn’t as bad as it looks, when a shadow falls over me. I know without looking who’s there.

“Eveny?” It’s Peregrine, her voice hushed. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Beside me, I hear Max drop his fork. He and Liv stare, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s gracing us with her presence in the cafeteria, or because even with her Louboutin boots, a fitted fur vest, and perfect makeup, she looks terrible.

“About what?” I ask. I take another bite of lasagna and do my best to ignore her.

“You know,” she says. She’s being uncharacteristically meek, and it’s freaking me out a little. “Please?”

“I’m eating now,” I say stiffly.

She leans down and whispers in my ear, “
Please?
There’s a serious problem.”

“No kidding,” I reply.

“What’s the problem?” Max pipes up eagerly from across the table. His eyes dart over to Peregrine. “If you need help with something, I’ll help you.”

Liv smacks him on the back of his head, but Peregrine acts like she hasn’t heard him. “Just come talk to me for a minute, Eveny. I’m asking nicely.”

I slam my fork down. “I’ll be right back,” I say. I stand up and follow Peregrine outside. She begins to head for the Hickories, but I say, “No. I’m eating with Max and Liv today. If you have something to say, say it to me here.”

She looks wounded. “How come you don’t want to eat with us?”

“For real?” When she doesn’t reply, I say, “Look what you’ve done! You wanted to have a party so you could have more hot guys than usual drooling all over you. And someone ended up dead because of it!”

“But I didn’t mean for that to happen!” she protests.

I look back toward the cafeteria and see through the window that Drew has arrived at the table and is deep in conversation with Liv. Max is staring at us with wide eyes. “Well, Liv, Max, and Drew don’t create situations where innocent people die,” I say.

“This isn’t totally my fault,” she says. “Look, I know I screwed up. But there’s a bigger issue here. The guy they found dead was killed
before
my party.”

“So?”

“
So
, everyone at the party was accounted for,” she says urgently. “We had a guest list at the door. Every single person signed in. So how did that happen if one of them was already lying dead outside the gate?”

My blood runs cold. “What are you saying?”

“That someone stole the dead guy’s identity and used it to get into town. Into
our party.
For all we know, he’s still here.”

“But the gate’s closed again, right, so we’re protected?”

“Not exactly,” she says miserably. “If someone got into town when the gate was open, he’d still be able to do what he pleased here. Including kill us.”

“So fix it!” I cry.

“I
can’t
,” she says. “Not alone, anyway. Just like I couldn’t open the gate on my own, I can’t restore the protection by myself either.”

I shake my head. “I should never have taken part in this,” I say, more to myself than to her.

“You didn’t know,” Peregrine says. “Please, Eveny. If you, Chloe, and I work together—”

“Why should I trust you?” I interrupt her.

Peregrine looks at me blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“I know there are more important things to worry about, but couldn’t you have clued me in about the fact that Caleb’s my protector? Or were you having too much fun watching me make a fool of myself?”

“So he told you.” The corner of her mouth twitches. “Well, it was kind of amusing watching you stare at him like he was God’s gift to earth.” When I just glare at her, she adds, “Fine, so Chloe and I thought it might be too much for you to handle along with everything else, okay? In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been trying to ease you into this whole zandara thing. It’s obvious that you like him, so why hurt your feelings right away by telling you that you two can never be together?”

“Yes, you’re a benevolent angel,” I say drily. “So while we’re on the subject, is there anything else you’re keeping from me? Any other secrets about my own life I should know about?”

“Now you’re just being a drama queen.” She sticks out her lower lip in a dramatic pout. “So are you going to keep yelling at me, or are you going to help us fix this?”

“Obviously I’m going to help you. Tonight?”

Her shoulders sag. “It’ll take us a day or two to put together the necessary herbs to render the intruder powerless. We’ll need the help of the whole sosyete too. This is a big deal.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Can’t we just reverse the charm we cast to let him in on Saturday?”

“We have to find out who the guy is first. As long as one of us in the sosyete actually saw him at some point that night, as long as we know what he looks like, we can harness that memory in a ceremony and cast against him.”

“And we can’t cast a charm to learn his identity?” I ask.

Peregrine purses her lips. “You don’t think we would have done that already if we could? No, the spirits rely on our eyes. If we didn’t see something, the spirits won’t know it either. It’s exactly why we’ve never been able to figure out who killed your mom. No one saw what happened, except your mom and the killer.”