Page 87 of Cross My Heart
Ms. Latimer arches an eyebrow. “I understand it’s easy to bedistracted… But I would hate to see a promising scholar sent off course by, let’s say, certain extracurricular activities. However charming they may seem.”
I blink. She’s talking about Saint, I realize. Clearly, word travels fast in a place like this.
I fix her with an even smile. “I’m not distracted.” Not just by him, anyway. “I’ll get back on track, I promise.”
“See that you do, Miss Peterson.”
After a few more promises to get myshit together, I leave the office, grab some fruit from the commissary, and head straight to the library.
‘Can’t do breakfast,’ I text Saint.‘Got the riot act from Latimer. Will be at the library until the end of time.’
‘Good luck,’ he replies. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
I settle in to work, and my head is aching by the time my stomach rumbles loud enough to break me from my panicked studying. I check my phone. It’s four p.m. already—and I’ve missed a message from Jamie Richmond. He wants to meet.
I quickly text him back. He’s in the city now, and sends me an address, a café in the center of town. I pause, glancing guiltily at my pile of books. But it’s no competition. Anything that can lead me closer to this society and Wren’s attacker will always be my first choice.
I grab my bag and walk quickly to meet him. The café is in the courtyard of an old, converted church, bustling with old folks fresh from choir practice taking tea and cake.
“Tessa,” Jamie waves me over to a discreet corner, in the shadow of some trees.
“Hi,” I say, breathless from my rushing. “Did you find something? What’s going on?”
Jamie glances around, clearly nervous, and beckons me further from the crowds. “I may have something…” he says, looking jittery. “I went over my old notes, and the materials the anonymous source left for me.”
“And?” I urge, trying to hide my impatience.
“And they mentioned something about an annual Blackthorn meeting. Some kind of big event, where they all gather and do… Well, whatever powerful secret societies do,” he says. “My source said it’s traditionally on the same date every year. The second Sunday in October.”
I quickly do the math. The weekend Wren was taken. “That’s in a few days!”
He nods.
“So where’s the event held?” I ask eagerly. “What are the details? How do I get in?”
“Woah,” Jamie holds up his hand to stop me. “That’s all I know. I don’t have any more information, but even if I did… You can’t just show up there, are you crazy? An event like that—evenifit’s happening—will have security for miles around. And what are you expecting to find, anyway?” he asks.
I pause. Dammit, he’s right. What would my plan even be? I can’t just waltz in and ask people point-blank if they’re connected to Wren’s attack?
I sigh in frustration. “Was there anything else?” I ask. “Any lead to current members, who might be willing to talk.”
Jamie shakes his head. “Anyone I approached stonewalled me. They know better than to go spilling secrets and causing trouble. And you should too. These people don’t fuck around,” he adds, warning me.
“I know,” I say, instinctively bringing a hand to my bruised ribs. “But I can’t stop.”
Jamie glances around again, nervous. “I have to go,” he says. “But… Maybe it would be best if you don’t contact me again. At least, not for a while. Something feels off about this.”
“Come on,” I urge him. “Don’t you want to find the truth, after everything they’ve done to you?”
“Yes, but I know when to quit.” Jamie gives me a regretful smile. “Good luck.”
He turns on his heel, and ducks into the crowd, weaving his way out of the courtyard past—
Saint.
I stop dead. He’s standing by the gates, watching me. And he doesn’t look happy. Clearly, he’s just seen my conversation with Jamie.
Shit.