[English] CARRIER OF THE MARK

Author: Leigh Fallon

Flames engulfed the boat, and my lungs ached as dark, noxious smoke filled the air. I struggled off the dirty makeshift bed and shuffled across the floor, the cable ties binding my hands and feet making my progress slow.
Suddenly a wall of water smashed through the cabin, dulling the flames.
Seizing my opportunity, I threw myself toward the wooden stairs, where the remains of the fire licked their way upward to freedom. I gritted my teeth and reached over to hook the cable binding my wrists on a jagged piece of scorched metal that I could see through the flames. Turning my face away from the searing heat, I tugged down sharply and felt the tie snap. I screamed as the flames burned my skin, but I didn’t have time to worry about the pain. I needed to get out, to warn the others. I had to make sure they were okay.
With my hands free, I released my ankles and scrambled up the still-burning stairs to the deck. Through the haze I could see a group of people on the shore. They stood motionless, staring at the ground. My eyes followed their horrified gazes to the body lying facedown on the water’s edge.
One
FIRST DAY BLUES
Four months earlier…
My first day at a new school … again. I pulled on the school uniform and eyed myself critically in the mirror. A uniform! I couldn’t believe it. Back in Boston, only the fancy private schools had uniforms. But after some extensive Googling I learned that in Ireland, everyone wore them. Mine was a royal blue V-neck sweater (the letter from the school called it a jumper—I guessed I was going to have to get used to Irish phrases), a gray skirt, and a blue-and-yellow-striped tie. Hideous, of course, but it could be worse; at least I’d blend in.
I scowled at my reflection and tugged at the elastic holding up my wavy brown...

Carrier of the Mark
Page 1



PROLOGUE

Flames engulfed the boat, and my lungs ached as dark, noxious smoke filled the air. I struggled off the dirty makeshift bed and shuffled across the floor, the cable ties binding my hands and feet making my progress slow.

Suddenly a wall of water smashed through the cabin, dulling the flames.

Seizing my opportunity, I threw myself toward the wooden stairs, where the remains of the fire licked their way upward to freedom. I gritted my teeth and reached over to hook the cable binding my wrists on a jagged piece of scorched metal that I could see through the flames. Turning my face away from the searing heat, I tugged down sharply and felt the tie snap. I screamed as the flames burned my skin, but I didn’t have time to worry about the pain. I needed to get out, to warn the others. I had to make sure they were okay.

With my hands free, I released my ankles and scrambled up the still-burning stairs to the deck. Through the haze I could see a group of people on the shore. They stood motionless, staring at the ground. My eyes followed their horrified gazes to the body lying facedown on the water’s edge.

One

FIRST DAY BLUES

Four months earlier…

My first day at a new school … again. I pulled on the school uniform and eyed myself critically in the mirror. A uniform! I couldn’t believe it. Back in Boston, only the fancy private schools had uniforms. But after some extensive Googling I learned that in Ireland, everyone wore them. Mine was a royal blue V-neck sweater (the letter from the school called it a jumper—I guessed I was going to have to get used to Irish phrases), a gray skirt, and a blue-and-yellow-striped tie. Hideous, of course, but it could be worse; at least I’d blend in.

I scowled at my reflection and tugged at the elastic holding up my wavy brown hair. I seriously needed a little makeup—at the very least, some mascara and lip gloss—but the school had a strict no-makeup policy—a throwback to its convent roots.

Finally semisatisfied with my appearance, I went downstairs, where I found my dad in the kitchen playing on his laptop and mumbling about cables.

“Morning, Dad. Did you get that thing working?”

“Hey, Meg,” he answered, looking confused. “Yeah, it was working fine and then it just died on me.”

“It helps to plug the charger into the wall. That’s what actually charges the battery.” I walked over to the socket, plugged it in, and pressed the power button on the computer.

“It’s back!” he cried.

“The wonder of science,” I said over my shoulder as I popped two pieces of bread into the toaster. “So how do you like your new job?”

“It’s great. Why don’t you come down to the club after school? I’ll show you around. I have a feeling about this place, Megan. This could be the one.”

I hoped that was true. It would be nice to stay in one school for an entire year, even if it meant living in Kinsale.

“Sure, Dad,” I replied. “I’ll stop by after school.” My toast popped up and I buttered it quickly. “I should get going. I have to figure out where all my classes are.”

“Good luck,” he said, glancing up from his computer with a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

The school itself wasn’t far from my house, and on my walk over (all downhill, thankfully) I saw lots of kids making their way in that direction. Nobody really paid any attention to me; in fact, people didn’t even seem to notice I was there. Score one for my unexceptional appearance. At five-foot-five, with pale skin and a sprinkling of freckles, I blended nicely into the sea of faces. I guess I could even pass for Irish, with dark green, almond-shaped eyes, courtesy of my dad, and my mom’s small oval face.

Turning the corner, I caught sight of the school gates, and my stomach fluttered a little. The school, a long, low building all on one level, had a parking lot in the front, and was bordered by basketball courts and grassy soccer fields in the back. I took a deep breath and made for the main entrance, when a pair of eyes caught my attention. Just inside the gate, a tall boy, leaning against a lamppost, was staring at me. A chill ran through my spine and my hands tingled. I balled them into fists and glanced down. What the hell? I was so distracted that I took a step forward and walked straight into another girl.

“I’m so sorry,” I yelped, as we stumbled and caught each other. I quickly glanced back at the lamppost, but the boy was gone.

“No problem,” a friendly voice chirped back. “Looking for someone?” She followed my gaze with a curious expression.

“Oh, no. Well, yes, actually. I need to find the principal’s office.”

“New?”

“Am I that obvious?” I asked, laughing.

“I’m Caitlin,” she introduced herself. “Are you in fifth year?”

Another term I was going to have to get used to. I was a junior back home. “Yep. I’m—”

“Megan,” she finished for me, and smiled apologetically at my shocked face. “It’s a small town. We were wondering when you were going to show up.” She pointed toward the school. “The principal’s office is through the double doors and to the right. Sister Basil.” She pronounced the name with an ominous tone.

I could feel my face paling. Great. A scary nun.

“She’s not that bad really,” Caitlin reassured me. “She’s strict, but fair. Keep eye contact with her and agree with everything she says and you should be sorted.”

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“Thanks,” I said, turning to leave. I massaged my hands, trying to ease out the pins-and-needles feeling that still prickled through them.

“Good luck! I’m sure to be seeing you later. We’re bound to share some classes.” She waved and walked off.

Thanks to Caitlin’s advice, I got through my meeting with Sister Basil easily. She dispensed with the formalities quickly, gave me my schedule and the school map, then ushered me out of her office.

Classes in Ireland were divided into higher and lower curricula depending on ability. Luckily, I’d made the grade for higher English and I had that class first. I walked down the hall, following the map Sister Basil had given me. When I got to the room it was only half-full of students, most of them talking among themselves. I sat down at the first available desk, opened my copy of Hamlet, and tried my best to look engrossed while furtively listening to the chatter around me.

I still couldn’t believe how fast people here spoke, and I was having some trouble getting used to the musical accent. Dropping my pen (accidentally on purpose), I leaned down to retrieve it and took a quick look around. I was surprised by how nervous I felt. I had always taken pride in my ability to adapt—a talent that years of new schools and new friends had helped me perfect—but something about this day felt off. I scratched my neck. It always got itchy when I was nervous. And that prickling feeling I’d had in my hands earlier was back, leaving them cold and stiff. I stuck my fingers under my legs, hoping the heat and the pressure would get the circulation working properly again.

Just then, Caitlin came in. Smiling broadly, she walked toward me.

“See, I told you we’d share some classes,” she said, dumping her books on the desk beside me. She glanced over my head, then did a double take before sitting down and leaning in. “Do you know Adam?”

I shook my head. “Who?”

“Adam DeRís, the guy down the back. Don’t look now, but he’s staring at you.”

I felt red heat climb slowly up my neck, stinging as it passed over my scar. I ached to turn and look.

“I don’t know anybody here.”

“Well, he appears to know you. He’s still staring. It’s weird; he’s normally only aware of his own self-importance. Oh, crap,” she said, flicking her head back to me. “He just caught me looking. Like he doesn’t have a big enough head as it is.”

I strained my eyes to the side, twisting my neck slightly to try to get a look at him, but just then the teacher walked in and promptly got into some heavy Shakespeare.

At the end of the period, Caitlin packed up her books and notes. I stalled, wanting to give this Adam guy a chance to leave so I could catch a glimpse of him as he left the room.

Caitlin slyly glanced back and stood up. “He’s still looking,” she mumbled through barely moving lips as she turned to talk to the girl sitting behind me. “I’ll tell you when he’s coming.”

Just then I heard the screech of a chair on the tiles and Caitlin nudged me, raising her eyebrows. I knew I was being stupid. I was seventeen, not twelve. But I felt compelled to see who this guy was. I glanced up furtively as I heard him come near. It was the guy who had been watching me at the school gates. My heart began thudding loudly and my hands went rigid and tingly. The heat rose up my face.

“Ohhhhhhh, new girl has the hots for Adam,” scoffed the blond girl behind me. “Don’t waste your time, honey,” she said, putting on an American accent.

“Jennifer! Play nice.” Caitlin gave her a playful shove as Jennifer pushed past us to leave.

Adam glanced back at me and collided with the door frame. He winced and, rubbing his shoulder, made a hasty exit. Jennifer turned to us with her mouth hanging open, and then walked out after him, laughing.

Caitlin grabbed my arm and we made our way to the crowded hallway. “Don’t mind Jennifer. She’s just ticked off because he’s never even looked at her. He’s a bit of a funny fish, him.”

I nodded, barely listening. I was so embarrassed by my bizarre reaction to Adam.

Caitlin saw the look on my face and quickly changed the subject. “Let me see your course list,” she said, peering at the piece of paper on top of my folder. “Oh, great, you’re in the same French as me. Wait until you meet Mr. Flood, our teacher.”

Relaxing, I smiled at her. “Why?”

“You should see his face! Only a mother could love it, and that’s not the worst of it.”

I looked at her questioningly. “What’s the worst of it?”

She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You’ll see.”

We moved quickly to our next class, and I soon found out why Caitlin very wisely steered us toward seats at the back of the room. Mr. Flood liked to put lots of emphasis into his pronunciation, something he very obviously took great pride in. The first row was a testament to that. There was a lot of scowling and wiping of faces. One of these faces belonged to Jennifer, who’d arrived late. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater, and I giggled. Justice was served.

As much as I tried to focus on the class, my mind kept drifting to Adam. There was an air about him, something different. He oozed arrogance, from his perfectly straight nose to his carefully disheveled dark hair. Not my type at all. Not that I really had a type. We’d never stayed in any town long enough for me to develop anything more than friendships.

Suddenly, I noticed Mr. Flood standing over me. “Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, mais peux j’ayez s’il vous plaît votre attention,” he said into my face with a liberal spraying of saliva.

Carrier of the Mark
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“Oui, monsieur, je suis désolée,” I said, snapping out of my reverie. It was a good thing Adam wasn’t in this class because I really needed to focus.

Mr. Flood walked back to his desk and I quickly mopped my face while he wasn’t looking. “He lives up to his name, doesn’t he?” I whispered to Caitlin.

The first half of the day passed quickly, one class running into another, and soon it was time for lunch. Caitlin and I sat on the grass in front of the building eating our soggy sandwiches. There were others scattered in groups around the grounds, enjoying the sunshine. It was still warm for September, and I was just rolling up my sleeves when Jennifer joined us.

As she passed me she fluffed my hair. “Sorry about earlier; I was only playing. No hard feelings?” She sat down and smiled at me.

“Sure,” I said, a little taken aback by the turnaround.

Sitting side by side, Jennifer and Caitlin were like night and day. Jennifer’s hair was highlighted and straightened and her skin was a smooth, perfect tan—which I assumed was fake. She was pretty, but she clearly worked at it; I could tell she had plenty of makeup on. So the strict no-makeup policy was not quite so strict. I could definitely get away with some.

Caitlin, on the other hand, was completely natural. Her light brown hair hung in long layers, framing a friendly, pretty face. She had a huge smile that touched her warm brown eyes, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup so far as I could tell.

Jennifer stood up and waved at two boys by the school doors, trying to get their attention. One had curly blond hair and bounded over with a big smile on his face. I noticed Caitlin blushing faintly as they approached. She glanced up at the blond shyly. The other guy had dark hair that was coaxed upward into messy peaks.

“Hi, Jennifer,” the dark-haired guy said.

“Darren, this is the new American girl I was telling you about, Megan,” Jennifer announced.

“Ah, so you’re the reason DeRís has been tripping over himself all morning. Can’t say I’m not enjoying seeing him stumble around like that. Nice work, Megan. Welcome to the metropolis of Kinsale.”

“D’Reese?” I asked, looking at Caitlin.

“Adam DeRís, the guy from this morning,” she explained.

“Don’t get too close,” Darren said with a smirk. “Or he’ll turn you into a toad or some—” A soccer ball came sailing through the air and smacked off the side of Darren’s head. “That hurt, you plonkers!” he shouted to a group of guys standing around the goal nets.

“Come on, Killian, they’re starting without us,” Darren said, kicking the blond boy, who was looking down at Caitlin. “Jennifer, I’ll meet you at the front gates after school?”

“Sure,” Jennifer replied, fluttering her eyelids. Then she turned back to us. “I have to agree with him. It’s great to see Mr. Über-cool and Collected make a twat of himself.” She looked me up and down appreciatively. “I have a feeling you are going to be a very useful ad***ion to our circle. Now … isn’t someone going to ask me what happened over the weekend with Darren?” She smiled expectantly at Caitlin.

“Oh, go on. Like you need to be asked,” Caitlin said, rolling her eyes.

Jennifer launched into an all-out explanation of how she and Darren hooked up over the weekend, making sure to include every incidental happening. The more excited she got, the faster she spoke, until I couldn’t understand her anymore. It didn’t even sound like English. My mind drifted to Darren. What had he said about toads? Jennifer’s voice faded into the background as a familiar profile caught my attention.

Over by the school gate, Adam appeared to be arguing with someone. I could see that his eyebrows were furrowed together and his body was rigid. The other guy’s dark hair was wavy and long enough to spill out over the collar of his leather jacket. He pointed toward the school, his face screwed up in irritation, and then turned and walked away. Adam watched him leave as he rubbed his forehead with his hand.

I wonder what that was all about. Suddenly, Adam turned and looked at me, right into my eyes. Burdened by the weight of his stare, I dropped my gaze before he did and rubbed my tingling neck. When I looked up, he was gone.

Jennifer’s voice came back into focus; she’d come to the end of her story. She sighed and looked a little dreamy.

“That’s so cool, isn’t it, Meg?” Caitlin said, turning to me.

“Um, yeah. Great,” I replied quickly.

“So, Caitlin, when’s the big move on Killian going to happen?” Jennifer asked.

Caitlin flushed.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You’ve been hankering after that boy for two years now. It’s getting old! It’s so obvious that you’re mad into him.”

“Oh, shut up, Jennifer,” Caitlin said, but not in a mean way. “Come on; it’s time to get back to class.” She jumped up and hauled me to my feet.

“Holy crap, your hands are cold,” she said, letting go of me to retrieve her grass-covered sweater from the ground.

“I know; they’ve been like that all day.” I shook my head in frustration, and pulled my sleeves down over them as I followed her inside.

Caitlin caught up to me as I was walking to the gate at the end of the day and took out her cell phone. “What’s your number? I’ll definitely need it for some late-night bitching.”

I held up my still-tingling hands. “Sorry, I haven’t got an Irish one yet, but I’ll get right on it.”

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She made a face of mock horror. “No phone! How have you existed here this long?”

I cracked up. “I promise I’ll have one by the end of the week. I’m meeting my dad now; I’ll put on the pressure.”

But my laughter quickly died in my throat. A little down the road, Adam was leaning against the chipped paint of an old Volkswagen Golf. He was talking to the guy he’d been fighting with earlier. Adam’s mouth curled into a smile as the other guy gave Adam a mock punch before climbing onto a motorcycle.

Caitlin followed my stare and sighed. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there,” she said, stepping into my line of sight.

“What do you mean?”

She lowered her voice. “He’s a snotty, stuck-up git. He’ll mess with your head. Just do yourself a favor and keep walking. I have to leg it now or my mum will kill me.” She slowly turned and walked away.

My freezing hands shook. I shoved them in my pockets, but stayed rooted to the spot. Adam was relaxed, still laughing at something the other guy said. I gazed at his eyes, bright green, set wide apart, whites perfectly clear, framed with thick, dark lashes. I took in the curve of his lips, the high angle of his cheekbones, and his long jaw that gently rounded to his chin. I caught my breath when I saw there was a girl sitting in the car’s passenger seat.

“Figures,” I muttered.

Adam glanced in my direction and said something to the girl. She looked at me warily and I felt a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. Was I that obvious?

Get a grip. Squaring my shoulders, I turned to walk into town. I didn’t see the old man approaching me until I was right in front of him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I smiled, expecting him to apologize too, or perhaps step aside to let me by. But he just stood there, his watery gray eyes focused on mine.

“Well … excuse me,” I said, stepping off the sidewalk and quickening my pace. I looked back at the old man. He was wearing a brown cloak with a rope around his waist like some bizarre monk. His long gray hair hung loose down his back, and his beard was tied with a leather clip. His expressionless face turned to me.

I whipped my head around and didn’t glance behind me again. Odd; I felt like his face jogged a memory, but I couldn’t quite place it.

I focused on navigating the ten-minute walk to the marina where my dad worked. The club, though small, was world-renowned, and this manager position was the opportunity of a lifetime for my dad. Pulling on the shiny brass door handle, I walked inside and went straight to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hi, I’m Megan Rosenberg; I’m here to see my dad, Caleb.”

“Ah, Mr. Rosenberg’s daughter—I wondered when I’d see you. Did you enjoy your first day at school, pet? It’s a nice school we have here. My own daughter was a student there until last year. She’s in college now in Limerick.”

Not knowing what else to do, I nodded.

She ****ed her head to the side and gave me a big motherly smile. “I’ll just call him and let him know you’re here, dear.”

A few minutes later, my dad came wandering in. “Megan!” he exclaimed. “How was your first day?”

I pulled my dad away from the reception desk. “It was mostly good, I think.”

“Make any friends?” Dad said, following his usual first-day script.

“I made a few friends. One girl, Caitlin, is really nice.”

“Caitlin Brennan?” the receptionist piped up.

“Er, yeah,” I replied slowly. Wow, this really was a small town.

“Her mother owns the Misty Moorings bed-and-breakfast.” She smiled.

My dad discreetly rolled his eyes and directed me out the front door. “Sybil,” he said, as if that explained it all. “Tell me, what was your first day really like?”

“Honestly, it was one of the better ones. Something feels different this time.”

“I know what you mean, Meg. I think your mom’s looking after us,” he said wistfully, glancing up to the sky.

“Maybe.”

“Or it could be that Irish blood in you; it’s back on home turf.”

“I have Irish blood?”

“It’s pretty diluted, but it’s definitely in there. Your mom’s grandfather came from somewhere near here, I think. Somewhere in County Cork.”

“I guess that explains the freckles,” I said, inspecting my arms. “So, are you going to show me around your vast empire?” I put my arm in the air and waved it around extravagantly. “It looks very fancy. Is your office nice?”

My dad was happy to give me the grand tour: the boats, the marina, and the club. I tried to look interested, but water and boats were never my thing. Truthfully, water had always sort of freaked me out. It held an allure for me, but one that felt dangerous, so I generally gave it a wide berth.

“I’m so proud of you, Dad,” I said, after he had shown me everything there was to see. “You’re definitely onto a winner here. How did you manage to swing this job?”

“I’m still not sure,” he replied. “Someone recommended me, but I don’t know who. I just wish I could thank whoever it was. I’ll never get an opportunity like this again.”

“Well, you deserve it.” I paused. “One thing, though.”

He looked at me nervously.

“I’m seriously going to need a cell phone.”

He looked relieved. “We’ll get right on that! Come on. I’m finishing up early, and I’m going to treat you to a big bag of fish and chips. When in Ireland, do as the Irish do!”

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“Sounds good,” I said, hooking my arm into his. “Lead the way.”

Dad pulled the door open for me and I found myself face-to-face with a shocked Adam DeRís.

“Mr. Rosenberg,” Adam said, avoiding my eyes.

“Hello, Adam. This is my daughter, Megan,” Dad introduced me. “Adam is one of our instructors.”

I didn’t know where to look.

“Nice to meet you, Megan,” he muttered, and started backing away, tripping over himself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rosenberg, but I’m in a hurry.”

“Of course, of course.” My dad’s forehead was crinkled in confusion as he leaned closer to me. “That was weird. He’s normally so friendly. Never mind, let’s get those chips.”

With my stomach twisting uncomfortably, the last thing I felt like was fries. I glanced over my shoulder at the fast-departing Adam.

“Don’t worry about him, Dad,” I said, faking a smile. “I’m not bothered.”

But I was lying. Adam’s reaction did bother me. It bothered me so much it hurt.

Two

DAY TWO

I got up the next morning with one intention: to prove to myself that Adam DeRís was nothing more than the usual seventeen-year-old guy. I was sure that seeing him again would break whatever spell he’d put on me. There was no way he could be as breathtaking as my memory painted him; my mind was playing tricks on me. As soon as I had that clear in my head, I would be able to start fresh. Perhaps I could even claw back a little bit of my dignity in the process.

And that was why I found myself standing at the school gates forty-five minutes before classes started.

Half an hour went by, and while other students had started to pour in, there was no sign of Adam. I looked anxiously up and down the road.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder, and I jumped.

“You came back.” It was Caitlin, beaming at me. “We didn’t scare you off then?”

I laughed. “Not quite; I thought I might risk one more day before I run screaming to the U.S.”

“Come on, we’d better get inside. If we’re late to biology, Psycho Phil will go ballistic.”

My heart sank a little. I’d forgotten the class schedule here changed every day. I wondered if Adam would be in my biology class. I was just going to ask Caitlin who Psycho Phil was when I realized my hands were tingling again. A black Volkswagen came into view and swung into a parking space across the road. Adam opened the car door, stepped out, and threw his bag over his shoulder in one fluid movement. Then he leaned over the roof of the car, talking to the girl who was getting out of the passenger side. It was the same girl I had seen him with yesterday. She was tall and slim, and her smooth, black hair was cut in a blunt bob.

They started walking toward the entrance, where I was standing with Caitlin. Adam was grinning, and her face looked up into his with a sly little smile, her eyes gleaming with a witchy edge to them. Adam walked by without a glance. She looked at me sheepishly, then quickly walked on.

“Bitch,” I muttered. I hated to admit it, but I was totally jealous. She was stunning. I could never compete with that. To top it all off, they were probably laughing at me and my completely transparent infatuation with Adam.

“Earth to Megan; come in, Megan,” Caitlin said as she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Megan, are you with me?” she said a little louder. “Or are you with a certain tall, dark, and outrageously handsome Mr. DeRís?” She followed my gaze.

“I wish.” I stared after them. There was no point in trying to hide my glaringly obvious emotions. “They look good together,” I said, somewhat begrudgingly.

“They would,” she said. “They’re twins. And did you not listen to a word I said? Honestly, don’t bother. Now come on.” She grabbed my arm and started dragging me up the hill. “We’re definitely going to be late!”

We ran down the hallway to our class.

“Twins,” I said at the door, as we paused to catch our breath.

“Yes, twins. Her name is Áine.” She shook her head in irritation. “Really, Megan, no offense or anything, but let it drop. You’re wasting your time. He’s a total plank, and has the personality to match. Now, shush,” she whispered, putting her finger over her lips before pushing the door to the biology lab open. I followed, wondering what a “plank” was.

“Ah, ladies, nice of you to finally join us,” said a sarcastic voice as we filed into the room. “I’m assuming this is our new class member, Miss Rosenberg.” A man with beady eyes and more hair on his face than his head glared at me. “Well, Miss Rosenberg, let’s hope this is not how you intend to continue your education in this school, and if it is, perhaps you could be so kind as to not drag Miss Brennan down with you.”

“No, sir,” I muttered, and fled to the nearest available desk. I was starting to understand the “Psycho Phil” nickname.

As soon as I realized we were talking about the lymphatic system—something I had studied last year—I tuned Psycho Phil out and my thoughts drifted back to Adam. The image of him smiling and leaning on his car crept into my mind: his head thrown back in laughter, his green eyes glittering with mischief. I pushed the picture from my mind and reminded myself that I was trying to purge him from my system, not reinforce my feelings. I rubbed the scar on my neck; it was itchy again. I couldn’t believe how much it had been irritating me. It never really bothered me before, but then again, I’d never gotten all flustered over a guy like this before either. I idly traced its circular shape and lost myself to memories of my mom. The scar would always be a painful reminder of the last day we spent together.

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I was six. Mom and I had gone to see my grandmother, who was living in a retirement village. We had a great time playing games, Gran telling me stories of when my mom was my age. After dinner Mom and I set off in the car for the three-hour drive back home.

Rain began to fall, and soon the wipers had to work overtime to keep the windshield clear. My mom turned up the radio and we sang along tunelessly, laughing at each other as we made up our own words to the songs. Then there was a sheet of metal coming straight at us and a screeching noise that hurt my ears. I screamed.

The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of me and beeping machines by my side. My dad was holding my hand.

“You came back to me,” he said, tears spilling down his face. Later he told me my mom had died instantly in the crash. I’d been unconscious for days. By the time I woke up, Mom had already been buried. I would never see her again.

My memories of the crash were still vivid all these years later, but now I felt detached from the event. All that was left was the scar, my dad’s sadness, and the guilt I felt when I tried to remember my mom. I kept a photo of her with me, so I wouldn’t forget what she looked like.

The bell broke my reverie. Caitlin turned to me.

“So did you choose home ec or art?”

“Art,” I answered, as I gathered my books.

“Well, you’re on your own for this one. I’m off to bake a cake. I’ll see you in maths. The art rooms are back up the corridor; turn right and they’re on your left.”

“Caitlin, what’s the deal with Adam and Enya? Why don’t people like them?”

Caitlin laughed. “Her name is Áine. You know, like Awn-ya. You’re going to have to get used to these Irish names. Anyway, it’s just … well, they’re stuck-up and a bit weird.” She leaned in closer. “There are rumors about their family. I don’t think I believe them, really, but you know what they say—there’s no smoke without fire.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“There’s been talk of ‘odd’ goings-on. And Adam and Áine don’t do much to persuade people otherwise.”

“So when you say ‘odd,’ you mean…?”

“Really odd. You know … things-that-go-bump-in-the-night odd.”

“You’re joking, right?”

She raised her shoulders and half smiled. “I don’t know. But you’ve been warned.” She wagged her finger and left the class.

I wasn’t much good at art, but I did enjoy it. I was happy that the art teacher ignored formalities and got right down to business. She handed me a sketch pad and pointed me toward a desk with a drawing board on it. I glanced at the still life of white daisies in the center of the room and picked up my pencil, but a shiny black bob on the opposite side of the room caught my eye.

Áine DeRís. She didn’t look at me, just kept sketching. What was it with the DeRís twins? I couldn’t get away from them. I looked up at her again and this time her eyes met mine. She quickly looked away, and I rubbed my neck in annoyance. Now that I knew Adam and Áine were twins, the similarities were obvious: the dark, rich hair; the green eyes; and the strong facial features. They both oozed the same quiet self-confidence, the type of arrogance that came from a life of privilege. Odd, though. Adam’s old car seemed *****ggest they weren’t rich.

I sketched away as I thought about them, flicking glances through the limp-looking flowers when Áine wasn’t looking. By the end of the class I was pleasantly surprised with what I had produced. I finished off the sketch and went to get the fixing spray. I was just returning to my desk when Áine passed me. She brushed the display table in her haste to get by and nearly knocked over the vase. Saying nothing, she righted the vase, picked up a daisy that had fallen to the floor, and gently placed it on my desk. Giving me a cautious smile, she walked out.

Caitlin was right. Weird. I grabbed my bag and glanced at the flower she’d left on my desk, doing a double take. I could have sworn it had been a tired-looking white daisy when she picked it up, but it was most definitely a healthy-looking pink daisy now. I chucked it into my bag with my things and went to my next class.

After math (I couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable calling it “maths”), Caitlin and I went outside for lunch. Jennifer, Killian, and Darren were already there, stretched out in the sun. Everyone was chatting happily, and I munched on my sandwich and listened intently, catching up on the gossip. At one point, Darren turned to me, then looked back in the other direction, and then at me again. I watched him, bemused.

“Darren, what are you doing?” Jennifer asked.

“I was just wondering who Rían DeRís was glaring at, and it would appear to be you, Megan. Bloody hell, what did you do to deserve that look?”

“Ree-in?” I glanced up and found the face in question. It was the guy who’d been fighting with Adam yesterday, the guy with the motorcycle. He was Adam’s brother! His eyes boiled with such intensity that I had to look away. “Why would he be looking at me? I’ve never met him,” I said uncertainly.

“He shouldn’t even be here. He finished school last year. I’d watch out if I were you, Megan. Rían will put the evil eye on you. People around here think the DeRíses are witches, ya know,” Darren replied, standing up and waving his hands around like a magician.

“Darren, that’s rubbish. You listen to too many old wives’ tales.” Jennifer gave Darren a look and tugged on his shirt to make him sit down. “And anyway, the rumors are of their being druids, not witches.”

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Darren leaned closer to me. “My granddad reckons they’re related to the old Killeen coven that hexed the town back in the eighteen hundreds.”

“What! You’ve got to be messing with me. Is that what you meant by ‘odd,’ Caitlin?” I asked.

“Darren, shut up. You’re going to scare her,” Caitlin said with a slight edge to her voice.

They all looked at me with serious faces. Then they burst out laughing.

“Don’t mind us,” Caitlin said, gently rubbing my arm. “Yes, there are rumors, and there have been ‘incidents,’ but none of us actually believe the stories. Do we, guys?”

“What stories?” I pressed.

“Tell her the one about the cat!” Jennifer exclaimed, elbowing Darren excitedly.

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Darren declared, leaning into me. “A long time ago, there was a woman who lived here. Her name was Elizabeth Killeen. Rumor has it she’s, like, the DeRíses’ great-great-grandmother or something. Anyway, she was a bit of a babe, and all the menfolk of the town had a thing for her. Of course, all the women blamed Elizabeth for the wandering eyes, and one unfortunate lady actually went to confront Elizabeth. When she did, Elizabeth morphed into a ferocious cat and lashed out at her, plucking an eyeball right from her head. The cat reportedly ate the eyeball, and then morphed back into Elizabeth. At least, that’s how One-eyed Lily tells the story.”

“One-eyed Lily?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s the great-granddaughter of the woman who had her eye swiped out. One-eyed Lily says her family is now cursed, and since that day, all the female children have been born with one eye.”

Caitlin threw the crust of her sandwich at Darren. “What rubbish. One-eyed Lily is a crazy alcoholic who fell asleep drunk on the pier and lost her eye because a fisherman accidentally lodged a hook in it. Don’t listen to him, Meg. He’s only winding you up.”

I glanced around at their faces. Darren smirked at me, and Jennifer had gone back to inspecting her hair for split ends.

“So who’s signing up for the school’s sailing classes?” Killian asked, changing the subject.

Caitlin looked excited, while I cringed and pretended not to hear. I personally couldn’t think of anything worse.

Caitlin eyed me. “Would you be up for it, Meg?”

“No way,” I replied, laughing nervously. “Water and I are not friends!”

“Oh, you should,” Killian begged. “It’s going to be fun.” He looked pointedly at Jennifer and Darren.

“It’s a tad remedial for me.” Jennifer sighed, sticking her nose in the air.

Darren snorted. “Come on, Jen. Sitting on the deck of your dad’s day cruiser in a bikini does not equal a qualification in sailing!”

She pouted at him as Killian looked back to Caitlin, his eyes pleading. “Come on, Caitlin; will you?”

Caitlin melted under his gaze. “I’d love to, but I’ll have to run it by my mum.”

“Excellent.” Killian smiled at her.

“Who’s running the course?” Darren asked.

“The yacht club and the outdoor education center; I’m sure the alleged druid himself, Adam DeRís, will be doing some instructing,” Killian replied.

I felt a flicker of interest register on my face. I fought to hide it, but Caitlin didn’t miss a beat. She immediately went to work on my weakness.

“Oh, come on, Meg; it could be fun, and we’d get to miss Friday-afternoon PE for five weeks.”

I groaned inwardly. I was totally witless around water, and here I was being coerced into a sailing course! You know you want to, a voice in my head chirped. One-on-one time with Adam DeRís.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“I guess you can count me in too,” Jennifer added, not to be left out.

Caitlin was bouncing up and down. “Come on; let’s get inside.” She looked like she was going to explode.

“We still have ten minutes before class starts,” I said as I ran after her.

“Will you really do the sailing course?” She turned to me.

“I hate water,” I replied, cringing, “but if you need me to…”

“Oh, I do need you. I do,” she said in a gush. “Killian will be there, and he seemed to want me to be there, didn’t he? Maybe it’s time to up the ante on Operation Snag Killian.”

“Operation Snag Killian?” I repeated, laughing.

“Oh, shut up. I nearly have to mop up the drool that pours from your mouth every time Adam comes within ten feet of you.”

“You’d better be nicer to me if you want me to do this sailing course,” I warned.

“Okay. I promise, I won’t mention Adam again!”

“Fine. You’re on.”

“Yay! And to show my appreciation, this weekend I’m going to introduce you to the many delights of the Kinsale Equestrian Center. You’re going to love it,” she declared.

“Your bringing me to the equestrian center wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Killian’s parents own it, would it?”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “How did you know that?”

“It’s a small town,” I replied, mimicking her voice. “And Jennifer mentioned it earlier.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Well, there’re some fine animals there … and some great horses too,” she added with a smirk.

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“You’re impossible! Come on; let’s get to class and get your head out of rippling muscles and firm hindquarters. And the horses, for that matter.”

She exploded with laughter, and we made our way to class.

That night I ran the sailing course by my dad. He was startled, to say the least, since he knew how much I hated the water. But of course he was delighted.

“This place is good for you,” he said. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’re glowing.” He paused. “Hey, are there boys involved in this sailing course?”

“Dad, it’s not like I go to an all-girls school. Yes, there are boys involved.”

My dad looked a little uncomfortable. “Has anyone caught your eye?”

“I’ve been at school for two days; give me a chance to get settled.”

“I didn’t mean it like that; you’ve just been acting different. I thought there might be an outside influence.”

“No, Dad. No boys.”

He looked back to the TV, where the news was playing softly. “That course is being run through my club, isn’t it?” he asked, without turning to me.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just wondering. I think one of our guys is helping run it. Adam DeRís. He’s the one we ran into yesterday, remember?”

“Yeah, he’s in a few of my classes.”

“You should have heard the stories that Sybil was spinning about his family—all nonsense, of course, but wow, can that woman tell a tale.”

“What did she say?”

Dad leaned forward. “She said that the DeRís land is bewitched. People won’t even walk there. There have been reports of flocks of savage birds that attack if you get too close. And the farmers claim that the crops won’t grow where their land meets the DeRíses’.”

“Did you hear the one about the cat?”

Dad nodded his head and laughed. “Oh, yeah, that was a doozy. Anyway, Adam’s an excellent instructor. You’ll be in safe hands.”

If only I were in those very safe hands right now, I thought, smiling. Oh, God, I was absolutely pathetic.

Later that night I remembered the daisy that Áine had given to me. I threw myself onto my bed, dipped my hand into my bag, and pulled it out. It was as perfect as when Áine gave it to me. I twirled it around in my fingers, inspecting the delicate petals, allowing my mind to wander to the DeRís family. A scratching noise at the window drew my attention, and I saw a big black crow looking in at me. He had a ring of silver feathers around his right eye that made him look like he was winking.

“Shoo,” I said, waving my hand at him. He flew away.

Without giving it any more thought, I placed the daisy on my nightstand and curled up in bed, pulling the quilt tightly around me.

Three

THE EQUESTRIAN CENTER

My first week was over, and I couldn’t believe how settled I felt after such a short time. In all the towns I’d lived in and schools I’d attended, I’d never clicked with anyone like I did with Caitlin. I had a feeling she was going to be a keeper. And Jennifer, Darren, and Killian seemed like people I would count as true friends.

I also felt myself softening toward the quirky, slow-paced way of life. It was strange to say, but I was even looking forward to school next week. Of course, it helped that I had nothing to really miss from my old life. We’d moved almost every year since my mom died. As soon as the anniversary of her death rolled around, I would notice my dad getting restless. Before I knew it, the bags were packed, the car was loaded, and we were off again to “start over.” Our last “home” was Gloucester, Massachusetts. We’d lasted there longer than most places, but before I dared to hope for a second year in one school, Dad got the Kinsale offer.

My friends in Gloucester were nice, but I had never had a best friend. It was my own fault, I guessed. One thing I learned early was not to form attachments—they only ended in tears. But now that I had a taste of how things could be, I didn’t want to go back to our odd sort of half life. I no longer wanted to feel displaced.

The only blip in my new life was Adam DeRís. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. From my first day at school, he’d occupied my thoughts. His staring and awkwardness combined with my constantly tingling hands made me hyperaware of his presence in school. I ached just to get a glimpse of him.

Saturday was torture. No school, no Adam. I spent most of the day at my desk, trying to catch up on schoolwork. It was three weeks into the school year here. I had missed the first two weeks and I had some serious studying to do. Senior cycle in Irish schools consisted of fifth year and sixth year, and at the end of sixth year students took a big exam that sounded like the SATs. It was called the Leaving Certificate, and what you got on the exam determined what you could study in college. True, I wasn’t set on going to college in Ireland, but I didn’t want to bomb any major tests either. I was ahead in some subjects, but way behind in others. Caitlin said she would help me out if I needed it, but Saturdays were busy for her, as she helped her mom out in their B and B.

My torture was somewhat alleviated on Saturday night, when my dad arrived home and handed me a brand-new cell phone. Caitlin and I texted each other all night, plotting our visit to the Kinsale Equestrian Center the next day. Finally, Sunday arrived.

Before we headed over, Caitlin swung by to pick me up. I was eager to show her around my new house, which I loved. It was set high up above the multicolored houses that crept along the sides of the roads in town. The harbor below us was banked on all sides by houses, shops, and restaurants, all stepped up on the surrounding slopes.

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From our porch, you could see the water from the harbor snaking its way out to sea and blending with the horizon. Our house was up a very narrow, steep road, through iron gates set into piers that were made of a red and sandy-colored stone. The driveway curved around in a big circle with a green in the middle of it. Dotted along the curving road were eight large, slightly elevated houses. They were all painted different colors. Ours was apple green.

Caitlin had a quick look around the house and my room, but she seemed anxious to get moving. The call of the equestrian center was obviously too strong to ignore.

“Come on, Megan, you’re going to love this,” she urged.

I smirked. She would love it, but I imagined my role would be more of a supporting one. I didn’t mind, though. Caitlin had informed me that Killian was teaching the lessons in the afternoon, and this was too good an opportunity to miss. We would get to gawk at him for a couple of hours. Lucky us.

It was another lovely day. The weather had been really nice since we arrived. Apparently it wasn’t normally like this; any day now the clouds would come and it would probably rain for six months solid. I planned to enjoy the sun while it lasted.

We walked down past the school in the direction of the Bandon estuary, which swept its way into the harbor. When we came to the water’s edge, we turned right.

The water was still, just a few small boats bobbing gently at their moorings. The reflected sun sent out sparkles in all directions. They were hypnotic. It took me a moment to tune back in to what Caitlin was saying.

“I was thinking of getting a fringe; what do you think?” she asked, holding her hair across her forehead.

“A fringe?”

“Oh, yeah, what do you call them again? Bangs.” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Did you see Jennifer in geography on Friday? I love that girl, but what was she thinking? That skirt could not go any higher! Mr. Murphy nearly had a hernia; he couldn’t take his eyes off her legs for the whole class.”

“Poor Mr. Murphy, it wasn’t really his fault. How could you not look?” I replied, sticking up for the unfortunate geography teacher. “Anyhow, Sister Basil sorted her out. I don’t think we’ll be seeing that skirt return *****ch dizzying heights anytime soon.”

I laughed, but realized I had lost my audience. Caitlin had stopped and was staring into the field at the side of the road. She leaned against the fence, and I followed her gaze. There was a large horse being put through his paces in the paddock. He was a beautiful chestnut color; his coat gleamed and his well-toned muscles rippled as he cantered by. The rider put the horse over a series of cross poles, jumping each one perfectly.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Caitlin said, letting out a sigh.

“Yes, he is. He has great form.”

“The rider, Meg, not the horse.”

I peered closer, taking in the face under the riding helmet. It was Killian Clarke, of course. He wore black jodhpurs, knee-high black leather boots, and a purple-and-white-striped polo shirt. His blond curls were darkened with perspiration. I had to admit, he really did look amazing up there. I definitely understood what Caitlin saw in him.

Just then he looked up and a huge smile spread across his face when he spotted us. He steered the horse in our direction. “Caitlin, Megan, what are you doing here?”

Caitlin looked at me and flushed. “Megan was thinking of taking some lessons. I thought maybe you could give her the tour.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You’ll be looking for a commission soon, Caitlin; you’re great at generating business for us.”

Her cheeks grew a darker red.

“I’m nearly finished here, and I’ll meet you in the yard for the grand tour in a few minutes.” He winked down at us and cantered away.

I elbowed Caitlin in the ribs as we started walking. “How many times have you been down here gawking at him? Caitlin, you seriously have to make a move; this isn’t healthy.”

“I know, I know. But I’m not good at, you know, making moves. I’m hoping he’ll make his move during the sailing course. If he doesn’t we’ll need to strategize.”

It wasn’t long before we heard Killian coming up the concrete path into the large barn. He pulled the horse up and swung his leg over its back, slid down the leather saddle, and landed solidly on the ground. One of the young stable hands, eager to help, ran over, fluttered her eyelashes at Killian, and took the reins from him.

“So, Megan, you want to learn how to ride?”

“Well, sort of,” I replied. “I’ve actually been riding off and on for the past ten years, but I’m a little rusty at the moment.”

“Great! We have some excellent classes and hacks for the more experienced rider,” Killian said, leading us through a barn lined with stalls full of sleepy-looking ponies.

He then directed us to a huge indoor arena and a spectator area. We sat down and listened as Killian gave us the lowdown on some member of the center who’d been caught red-handed with the wife of the local farrier in one of the stalls. Caitlin was hanging on his every word. I gave up trying to follow along and watched a girl on the other end of the arena instead.

She was on a huge white horse that must have been at least seventeen hands high. The horse’s neck curved in with her head tucked neatly toward her powerful chest. She moved so gracefully.

The rider was wearing white jodhpurs and long black leather riding boots. She was completely in control, barely touching the reins. I squinted, trying to see who she was.