rolled her eyes. “Othello was an ass.”
Leslie winked and said, “They all are, sweetie. They all are.”
“How was the party?” Aislinn asked as they slipped into the room.
“Same as always, but”—Leslie leaned across the aisle—“Dominic’s parents are away all week. Fun to be had, trips to take, guys to make…”
“Not my scene.”
“Come on, Ash.” Leslie checked to be sure no one who shouldn’t hear stood nearby—glancing up and down the aisle furtively—before she added, “Ri’s friend at the music shop got her that extra package she ordered, too.”
Sometimes Aislinn wished she could smoke a little, drink a little, but she couldn’t. Once in a while she indulged if she planned to crash on Seth’s sofa, but she couldn’t risk walking through Huntsdale with her defenses down.
“I don’t think so,” she said more firmly.
“You could come along. You don’t need to party, just hang with us. It’s not like I get lit. Just a little relaxed.” Leslie tried again. “Some of Dom’s cousins are going to be there.”
“Thought they were all asses?” Aislinn asked with a smirk.
“Sure, but his cousins are asses with hot, hot bods. If you aren’t going to do anything about Seth”—Leslie gave her a lascivious grin—“a girl’s got needs, right? Just think about it.”
Sister Mary Louise came in, saving Aislinn from declining again.
With her usual flourish, Sister Mary Louise paced across the front of the room, eying them from behind her patently unattractive glasses. “Well, what can you tell me?”
It was one of the many reasons the class was Aislinn’s favorite: Sister Mary Louise didn’t simply launch into a lecture. She got them talking, and then she slipped in her points, revealing every bit as much information, but with more style than any of the other teachers.
Before anyone else could speak, Leslie announced, “If Othello had trusted Des, it would’ve all gone differently.”
Sister Mary Louise rewarded her with an encouraging smile and then turned to Jeff, who objected to most of Leslie’s comments. “Do you agree?”
The class quickly turned into a debate with Aislinn and Leslie on one side and Jeff’s lone male voice on the other side. A few other people joined in periodically, but it was mostly her and Leslie against Jeff.
Afterward Aislinn left Leslie at her locker and joined the crowd surging to the door. In all, her mood was a good one. Ending the day with her favorite class wasn’t quite as good as starting with it—instead of starting with the torture that was Calculus—but it was a close second.
Then Aislinn stepped outside the main door. The fear she’d stifled that morning came flooding back: outside, seated on the back of the wolf, was Deadgirl—looking every bit as terrifying as the other faery, Keenan, had at Comix.
CHAPTER 7
The fairies, beside being revengeful, are also very arrogant, and allow no interference with their old-established rights.
—Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland by Lady Francesca Speranza Wilde (1887)
“Hello?” Leslie snapped her fingers in front of Aislinn’s face, her silver nail polish catching Aislinn’s attention. “Are you coming or not?”
“What?”
“To Dom’s.” Leslie sighed, a familiar look of irritation on her face.
Beside them, Carla smothered a laugh.
Leslie exhaled noisily, blowing her too-long bangs away from her face. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?”
“Hold up,” Rianne yelled as she ran down the steps. Like Leslie, Rianne already had her blazer off, but she also had the top two buttons of her blouse undone. It was all show, but it was a show that led to lectures from more than a few of the faculty at Bishop O.C.
From the side of the building, Father Edwin called, “You’re still on school property, ladies.”
“Not now.” Rianne stepped off the curb into the street and blew a kiss to him. “See you tomorrow, Father.”
Father Edwin tugged his Roman collar, his version of clearing his throat. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, Father,” Leslie said obediently. Then she lowered her voice. “So are you coming, Ash?” She didn’t pause, walking toward the corner, expecting everyone to follow her.
Aislinn shook her head. “I’m meeting Seth at the library.”
“Now, he’s yummy.” Rianne gave an exaggerated sigh. “You holding out on us? Les said that’s why you bailed the other night.”
Across the street, listening to everything they said, was Deadgirl. She followed them, her wolf loping down the street, keeping pace with them.
“We’re friends.” Aislinn blushed, feeling more embarrassed than usual with the faery eavesdropping.
Aislinn stopped, bent down, and pulled off her shoe as if there were something in it. She glanced back: Deadgirl and her wolf lingered in the shadows of the alley across the street. Humans walked past—oblivious as always—talking, laughing, completely unaware of the unnaturally large wolf and its feral rider.
“Bet you could be more.” Rianne linked her arm through Aislinn’s and urged her forward. “Don’t you think, Les?”
Leslie smiled, slowly and deliberately. “From what I hear, he’s got enough experience to be a prime candidate for the job. Trust me: for your first, you want someone with finesse.”
In a throaty voice, Rianne said, “And I hear Seth’s got finesse.”
Carla and Leslie laughed; Aislinn shook her head.
“Sheila said that when she was in Father E.’s office, she saw the new student who’s coming this week, some orphan,” Carla said as they stood at the crosswalk. “Said he’s definitely a hi-cal dessert.”
“Orphan? She really said orphan?” Leslie rolled her eyes.
Glad the conversation had drifted away from her, Aislinn only half listened, more concerned with her faery stalker than new students. The faery stayed precisely even with them as they walked. From the way the faeries that passed treated Deadgirl, she was special. None of them approached her. Some bowed their heads as she passed. She, however, didn’t acknowledge any of them.
At the corner of Edgehill and Vine, where they usually split ways, Carla asked again, “You sure? You could bring him.”
“What?” Aislinn shook her head. “No. Seth’s helping me study, umm, for government. I’ll call you later.” The light changed, and she started across the street, calling back, “Have fun.”
Deadgirl didn’t follow.
Maybe she went away.
“Hey, Ash?” Leslie called, once they were far enough apart that she had to yell, far enough that everyone would hear. “You do know there’s no test in there this month.”
Rianne shook her finger. “Naughty, naughty.”
The people walking by didn’t pay any attention, but Aislinn’s face still burned. “Whatever.”
Aislinn cut across the park toward the library, thinking about Seth, about Deadgirl following her. She wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings until someone—a human someone—grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest, holding her securely immobile.
“Well, if it isn’t a nice little Catholic girl…Nice skirt.”
He