“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.