White Raven (3 page)

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Authors: J.L. Weil

BOOK: White Raven
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Drying my long blonde hair, I tossed it into a messy bun and slipped into my “coffee is my BFF” PJs. As I walked back into the adjoining room, my eyes locked onto the window seat. It looked too inviting to not take advantage of. My butt sunk into the velvety cushion, and I pulled my legs up against my chest, getting comfortable. My forehead rested against the cool windowpane while I stared out into the vast blue waters. The waves were much darker now that the sun had set. Even with the sparkling stars dotting the night’s sky, the water appeared almost black.

An emotion I refused to acknowledge came over me. Sadness. Before I could swallow back the wretched feeling, tears were blurring my vision and streaming down my cheeks.

Angrily, I swiped at them with the palm of my hand. I’d promised never to shed another useless tear. Not ever. Not for some idiotic boy who breaks my heart. Not when I feel such excruciating pain that it makes me call out. Not when I am alone and feeling lost.

I’d bawled enough tears to last two lifetimes, and for it, I was stronger. I refused to let myself travel down that dark path ever again.

Through my muddled eyes, I saw a beautiful spark of icy blue. At least I thought I did in the shadows. I was mesmerized. Squinting, I swore there was something out there, moving with the darkness. Inching closer on the seat, I thumped my head on the glass.

“Dammit,” I cursed.

My eyes shot back up as I rubbed the tender spot on my forehead, searching.

Confused, I blinked.

Nothing.

It was gone.

That was when I knew I was on the brink of losing my mind. Moving to Raven Hallow had tipped the scale. There was something about this place, about this house that my mom had run from, never to return. I wanted to know why. She must have had a very good explanation to cut herself off from her childhood home and her mom…but what?

A chill ran over my arms.

Secrets. This place was brimming with them.

 

Chapter 3

 

I jerked straight up in bed, confused and disoriented, my hair curtaining my face. It had been near 3:00 a.m. when I’d finally been able to fall asleep, and I had no idea what woke me. Flopping onto my back, I glared at the ceiling tiles, knowing that once I was awake, there was no hope of ever falling back to sleep.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

I frowned. What the hell was that annoying sound? Was the freaking house on fire? Should I look for an emergency exit? Throwing off the covers in a mad panic, I swung my feet to the floor. My damn toe got caught up in the sheets, and I nearly cracked my two front teeth on the wood floor.

“Holy shit,” I cursed. “That was close.”

“Piper.” My name echoed through a small speaker by the door.

I lifted my head, staring in the direction of the voice.

It was Rose.

“I require your presence in the blue room,” she informed.

I groaned and thumped my forehead on the floor.

Good grief. I hadn’t had my first cup of coffee or the chance to wipe the sleepy gunk from the inner corners of my eyes, and she wanted to talk to me. I wasn’t fit to talk to humans until after a least one dose of caffeine. Everyone in my family knew that if you woke me up before noon, I turned me into a bitch-a-saurus—except Rose. There was more excitement and fun at night. The whole city came alive and I with it. I miss my late nights with Parker sneaking into clubs. I missed our midnight lattes at the café across from my apartment, gossiping about his newest manga.

Did I mention that Parker was a geek? A sort of cute geek. His shaggy brown hair always hung in his eyes, and he always had his nose in a comic book.

Crawling back into bed, I snuggled deeper into the covers, making an inaudible response. Day two and already Rose was making demands. I lay there another few minutes debating whether to get up or stay in bed all day. Finally, my curiosity about this house and the town itself got the best of me, remembering that Rose had mentioned something yesterday about a tour.

Twisting over, I glanced at the blue neon lights on the alarm clock situated on the nightstand. Was she kidding me? Nine o’clock? It was indecent. I’d had a long night. Being in a new place with a bad case of homesickness, sleep did not come easy, and now my body was paying the price.

Dragging a hand through my tangled hair, I pushed myself up, dangling my feet over the side. I blinked. Still groggy, it took a few flutters of my lashes before it sunk in. I wasn’t in my own room. The walls weren’t the color of red wine, I wasn’t sleeping in my snuggly daybed with a view of the skyline, and the crystal chakra wasn’t dangling above my head. This wasn’t a dream.

Hells bells.

A gentle breeze from the ocean blew through the balcony doors, flapping the lace curtains. Strolling across the room, I quickly rummaged through the closet, almost afraid I would fall in and never return, or end up in Narnia. Fortunately, I didn’t have much stuff, so it just looked pitiful. I had never been on time to anything in my life. Why start today?

Still in a zombie-state, I tugged a shirt from the hanger, whipped it over my head, and wiggled into my favorite pair of jean shorts. Combing my fingers through my hair to loosen a few of the snarls, I tied my hair up into a ponytail on top of my head. Considering that it was before noon, this was the best it was going to get.

My bare feet padded over the wood floors as I opened the door to the hall, looking left then right.
Downstairs where?

I was going to need more specific instructions, like latitudes and longitudes, if I was going to get around in this place. It took me twenty minutes to locate the
blue room
. I didn’t know why they just didn’t call it a sitting room, because that was basically what it was. If it hadn’t been for the voices, I might have still been aimlessly wandering about.

True to its name, the walls were royal blue, and the focal point of the room was a floor to ceiling brick fireplace in a pristine white. When I more or less stumbled my way in, TJ and Rose were sitting on a cobalt paisley couch. It was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. If being rich meant having horrible taste, then by God, I was glad we had grown up just scraping by. I would take our worn leather sofa from Goodwill over that stiff looking thing any day of the week.

Above their heads, hung a tiered crystal chandelier. At my less-than-stellar entrance, both heads turned my way. It made me squirm. I fumbled with the chain around my neck. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“She’s always late,” TJ snorted.

I thumped him on the back of the head as I took a seat beside him, curling my legs underneath me.

He scowled.

With her hands primly folded in her lap, Rose began to lay out the agenda for the day. “We are having lunch at the club, and I thought afterward I would show you around the island.”

Lunch at the country club? What the hell did one wear to a country club? My head started to fill with imagines of tennis skirts, polo shirts, and khakis. I owned none of the above, nor would I actually ever wear any of the above.

I couldn’t keep the sourpuss expression from my face. “Um. I hate to be the rain cloud, but I left all my party dresses in Chicago,” I replied.

TJ’s frown deepened. He was pissed at anything that might jeopardize his suddenly posh summer.

But Rose had thought of everything. “Not to worry. I had Estelle pick you up a few things. You’ll find them already in your room.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask just how she had known what size I was. Had she snooped around in my drawers while I slept, gone through my panties?

Ew. Gross.

Now I was scowling.

TJ bounced off the couch, ready for just about anything. “I’m starved. When do we leave?”

“In an hour…on the dot,” she added for my benefit.

I did a mental eye roll.

As far as I was concerned, TJ was adjusting too fast and was too accepting. In a way, I sort of felt betrayed. Why was he so eager to get to know a woman who never once bothered to visit us?

Irritation flaring, I looked down at my outfit. Why did I have to change? I liked how I dressed, how I talked, and how I lounged on the couch. Couldn’t I just be me? It burned my butt. And for the second time today I was faced with a decision, all before I’d had a caffeine buzz. This could go two ways. I could be difficult and refuse to change—my gut reaction. Or for TJ’s sake, I could haul my ass back upstairs and put on one of Rose’s silly dresses. Heaving a sigh, I chose the high road, which didn’t happen often.

“It will be fun,” Rose attempted and failed to make lunch sound enticing.

Fun was subjective.

Unfurling my legs, I more or less stomped up the stairs, but not before giving TJ the stink eye and walking into a wrong room or three. When I finally found
my
room, I swung open the door and snorted. There it was. Laid out on my bed was a pink sundress, sticking out on the white bed like a pink spotted giraffe at the zoo.

Pink!

I vomited in my mouth.

Of all the colors in the rainbow, why did it have to be cotton pink?

Standing in the center of the room, eyeballing the very girly material, I reconsidered my choices.

Option 1: I show up to lunch in jean shorts and a tank.

Option 2: I don’t go to the country club at all.

Option 3: I suck it up and wear the damn dress.

Really, in any other color it would be acceptable…but pink? I didn’t care about impressing her uppity friends. I didn’t care about what others thought about me. But what I did care about was TJ. The last thing I wanted was to make this any harder for him. Not that he was having a hard time, but he’d already had a traumatizing year. I owed it to him to try to make living here as smooth as possible. He might be a royal pain in my tush, but if he could survive the summer, so could I.

Ugh. I was going to grit my teeth and bear it. After all, it was only one day—one meal. How hard could it be? It was not as if I would melt like the Wicked Witch of the West if I wore pink.

Sixty-five minutes later I was sitting in the back of a black town car on my way to the country club in an itchy
pink
dress. Yep. I was late.

Served her right for making me wear a dress.

Rose’s hair was tied up in a sophisticated bun, not a flyaway in sight. TJ’s sandy hair was combed, looking clean and polished, something that never happened at home. We were lucky if he showered once a week. And then there was me. The best I had done with my long blonde hair was run a comb through it. There hadn’t been time to work miracles.

Sinking into the plush seat, the same thought looped on repeat.
What the heck am I going to do at a stuffy country club?

Mingle? Doubtful.

Dine on exotic cuisine? Don’t hold your breath.

Tennis? No stinking way.

My kind of club was an underground one with flashing colored lights, floor-shaking mixes, and half-naked peeps. This
club
was called The Black Crow. To me, it sounded like a strip joint, but what did I know about hoity-toity places?

On the short ride from the manor to the country club, Rose rattled off all the amenities the club offered. From tennis to boating lessons, and it was all at her expense, since she had added us to the approved guest list.

Dollar signs beamed in TJ’s eyes. I gave him a stern look. “Does that include a booze tab?” I asked smartly.

TJ kicked me with his shoe. “She’s joking,” he said, seeing Rose’s displeasure.

Actually, I wasn’t, but no harm in letting them think I was.

I didn’t know what it was, but everything in Raven Hallow rubbed me the wrong way. Even Rose. Sure, she had been nice; however, I hadn’t forgotten that never once had I seen this woman. Unlike Dad and TJ, my trust had to be earned. I didn’t just give it away because of the size of her wallet. I hated feeling like a charity case. There was a very good reason my mom hadn’t ever wanted to return to Raven Hallow, and I was determined to unearth it.

The Black Crow was not as seedy as the name suggested. Tall white pillars flanked a set of stairs that led to a huge wraparound porch in a plantation style, perfect for lazy afternoons or quiet evenings. From behind the black wooden building, I heard the crashing of waves against the rocky shore and a boat horn in the distance. The club was on the harbor, its smooth windows sparkling in the sunlight.

We were seated on the back deck with an impressive view of the waterfront. The golden glow of the sun flashed off the rippling waters as sails from boats whistled in the winds, coming and going from the dock. I loved the water. It reminded me of the lakefront.

A warm breeze blew over my bare shoulders, the sun basking my skin. It felt nice, a change from my usual crazy Chicago summers, where you wore shorts one day and a sweatshirt the next. My complexion could use a righteous tan. Maybe that will be my goal for the summer. Sunbathe on the beach and drink all the Shirley Temples my stomach could handle. I sipped my pinkish drink and twirled the umbrella, thinking that was exactly what I was going to do. The less time I spent at the manor the better.

TJ and Rose kept the conversation rolling as I gave the appropriate one-word responses or a head nod. I didn’t have much of an appetite, mostly picking at my chicken Caesar salad and gazing out at the ocean, until…

His hair was black as a wintry night, eyes icy blue as a gypsy’s heart. He had a lazy saunter about him and a glint of humor twinkling in those heart-melting eyes. There was nothing loose about his body, muscles bunching as he tethered a boat to the dock. I twiddled the straw, staring brazenly.

Good God. I wanted to have his babies. Not now, but most definitely someday.

And just like that, my summer got a billion times hotter…and interesting—way more interesting. I bit my lip, mulling over how I was going to accidently fall into his pants. Um—I mean path or even his lap would do, anything to get that one’s attention.

Drool hit the table in a mad case of fangirl, and I didn’t even know his name.

As if he sensed he was being slobbered over, his eyes scraped over me, and I held my breath. Holy hot tamales. An electric bolt of…lust maybe, I really didn’t know what it was, but it coiled through my body, making me shudder. A flicker of an unidentified emotion crossed his face, right before a secret smile appeared on his lips. Oh man, don’t get me started on his lips.

Elbows propped on the table, I rested my head on the edge of my palms, continually gazing and getting lost in the depths of his eyes. He hypnotized me. I followed his movements, my eyes glued to him. Then one of my elbows slipped off the table in classic Piper form, and down I went. I caught myself just before my chin whacked a corner of the patio table.

Only me.

Mortified, I closed my eyes.

TJ laughed. “Smooth, Pipe. I think you made a lasting impression.”

My cheeks stained an unflattering shade of pink, and I narrowed my eyes at TJ from across the table, wishing we were closer so I could pinch him. Unable to resist, I glanced back up, praying my future husband hadn’t witness my finest moment. My belly sunk. A burst of humor lit his eyes, and a flush raced over my body, part humiliation but more anger. I hated looking like a fool.

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