Page 37 of Deck of Scarlets

“I’m sorry, Heather,” I said sheepishly. Shit.

“Besides, the idea of someone of his caliber even giving me that kind of attention is laughable,” she grumbled.

Usually, at that point, I would shut the hell up, but Heather pushed my nosiness to its peak. “Do you want him to?”

Silence stretched between us for several minutes. More than several minutes, because I could hear a light snore from her side of the room.

I guess I’ll never know her answer.

Chapter Fifteen

Ihad no desire to move from my bed. Not one ounce of strength seemed to be with me anyway, and I was okay with that. Heather had already showered, dressed, and was out the door before the first alarm went off. I was unsure if she wanted to avoid any embarrassment for being the teachers’ pet or if she was one hundred percent mad at me for feeding into her friends’ antics, but by the complete lack of communication that morning, I’d have guessed she wanted nothing more than to forget last night. I would have loved to, because I could move past it and toss it in the trash like it never happened. But other events continued their stay in my head.

The image of Josh and Chloe hiding within the shadows of the alleyway had me staring at the ceiling in deep thought. If, and that was one big if, they could potentially and clinically be insane and were running around the streets of New York City like they were part of some anime convention, I’d been looking at this all wrong.

I may be looking at this all wrong and wandering into forbidden territory.

After the freshmen breakfast, I knew they were a part of something. The negative energy had rolled off them as they all stood glaring me down like I was a nuisance to society.

I knew what I needed to do. The invitation was tucked inside one of my desk drawers, screaming at me to go. Stalling had been one of my talents since birth, and I did that often when it came to the inevitable.

Because the idea that something sinister could lurk in the shadows scared me the most.

If I went tonight and everything checked out, I could just slip out, and nobody would know of my absence. But how would I explain myself to Heather if she saw me? She was already pissed at me for last night; I didn’t need another nail to my coffin.

I groaned and covered my face with one of the many designer pillows my mother had bought. Telling Heather now would be another blow, especially since I embarrassed her. Keeping this lie for so long only to reveal it before the big night, how could she ever trust me?

I could sneak in. Just peek inside, ensure everything seemed okay, and bounce before anyone noticed me. That way, my conscience was clear, and it would leave her none the wiser.

The real question that nagged at me was how the heck would I pull it off?

I couldn’t waltz in there; I needed a well-thought-out plan to disguise myself and not get caught. Thankfully, the attire was all black, and I had a few pieces that would mesh well to match my incognito status.

I finally made the effort to get out of bed and trekked to the little closet in the corner on my side of the room. Successfully finding black jeans and a shirt, the only thing I lacked was a hoodie to cover my striking blond hair. My mom seemed pretty good at packing the essentials, so I wondered if she’d packed a black hooded sweatshirt. Just as I found what I’d been looking for, it dawned on me that we weren’t even close to winter yet and I pictured myself sweating profusely with it on. Scratching that idea, I came across a bag of old baseball caps toward the back of the closet. It was odd that my mother would move these for me here, let alone pack them, but I was thankful that she had. Grabbing the darkest shade of the bunch, I laid the outfit on my bed, viewing it from above.

This will have to do.

Folding the clothes and tucking them under my covers to hide my special ops attire, I gathered my bag of toiletries for a quick shower and decided to get ready to scope the church’s layout.

Doing it in the daytime would be less suspicious, and it would be easy to see the access points of the building. Snapping some pictures might be a challenge, but playing off enjoying the scenery would most likely work in my favor. Besides, nobody was going to care about some random chick taking pictures of a church.

Another less suspicious act, a quick shower, did the trick to relax my mind, and as I laced up my shoes and styled my hair into a braid, I thought of what would have happened if Heather had been in danger. But what kind of danger would there be on a college campus? Josh was adamant about breaking curfew, but how convenient he’d arrived while I chased after the mystery scarlet-cloaked figure. Stupid, good-looking son of a bitch he was. Why did Nickie have to pick him?

So much for relaxing my mind with the shower.

Brushing aside the negative thoughts, I went outside into the warm, sticky air. Students were enjoying the weekend, some sprawled out on the lawn soaking in the sun, others retreating under trees for shade.

With a sports water bottle in one hand and my phone in the other, I traveled down the college walk, heading toward the cathedral, nodding and giving small hellos to my classmates.

It seemed awfully quiet on 114th St. as I pressed the button for the crosswalk while resisting the urge to jaywalk and bolt across. Eventually, the lights turned red, and I was signaled to make way across the street, deciding to play up my facade and run across like I was training to join the track team. Pretending to check my pulse, I leaned on one of the lampposts and stretched out my legs while staring up at the behemoth of a building.

The Cathedral of St. John the Divine sat in all its glory, holy and preserved for only the lovers of the Lord himself. Its structure was intimidating, its peaks higher than the trees surrounding its perimeter. Gray stone made up the entire building, only stunning stained glass occupying the center. Rotating my shoulders and neck like I just ran miles to get here, I stepped forward until I reached the stairs. Hands on my hips, I pretended to breathe heavily as a couple walked past me, giving a small smile.

Nothing compared to the giant rose on the stained glass window in the center. I could imagine the colors cascading through the building once the sun hit, filling the church with a multitude of reds that any artist would envy. Now that I had a simple front layout, I observed the building up close to determine if any other doors were behind the main one, while nonchalantly taking photos, making it seem I was merely interested in the structure rather than possible hidden passageways. Thankful for not finding a no trespassing sign, I was about to go investigate the grounds when I found the front door slightly ajar. I took it as a sign to enter. Maybe being inside would serve better than just walking around aimlessly, hoping to find a crack somewhere.

Upon first observation, I noticed how cold the church was. I rubbed my arms as I walked down the aisle, the pews empty on either side. Granted, the blast of cool air was a relief to the harrowing summer heat, but I wasn’t expecting to step right into the North Pole.

The smell of incense lingered as I made my way to the front, only my footsteps echoing in the open space. The ceiling, higher than any tree inside Central Park, gave the space an eerie atmosphere. It felt too quiet. Making my way to the front, I stopped just before the dais, where a dark wooden podium stood. Behind the podium sat a long marble table adorned with gold cups and a pitcher, with a cross the size of my head in the center.