Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle) (4 page)

We just started Hamlet, a wonderful play full of intrigue, love, murder and insanity. Instead of an open discussion about the play, Mr. Farlow has us taking turns reading it in class. Listening to my classmates stumble over the archaic phrasing in a dull monotone is enough to lead me to fantasies of breaking a window and fleeing into the misty morning air. The bell finally rings, releasing me from my torment and silent vigil over the courtyard below.

My classmates fall over each other in their desperation to escape, while I hang back, still eyeing the silent quad. Once the crowd has fought their way out the narrow door, I follow with ease, a tiny smirk on my face at the absurdity of it all.

Sometimes you’ve just gotta laugh lest you end up crying in your cereal.
Another of my late great aunt’s many bizarre sayings. Though, now that I think about it, she may have been onto something. The family wrote her off as senile at worst and eccentric at best. Perhaps she was merely wiser than the rest of us.

The bright hallway is filled with eager students rushing past loitering delinquents. I have yet to understand the propensity to hang out by the lockers since so many have a tendency to leak foul odors. More than one of my friends has left a lunch to rot in the confines of the metal cage. Perhaps they couldn’t bring themselves to toss it away even though they had no desire to eat it. A single row of lockers is a microbiology science fair project all ready to go, only the colorful poster board and labels missing.

Making my way down the staircase to the first floor, I head out the door and into the quiet quad. The rain has stopped, leaving the outdoors feeling clean, the fresh scent of ozone permeating the air around me. Spreading the dingy white towel I nabbed earlier from the locker room on a stone bench, I sit down and pull my script from my backpack. Fourth period would normally be PE, but I’m exempt due to my stint on the cross country team.

As I try to concentrate on learning my lines for the fall play, other students trickle outside now that the rain has stopped. Ignoring the incessant chatter surrounding me, I lose myself in my
Anything Goes
script. I’m playing the lead, nightclub singer Reno Sweeney, and I have nine songs along with what seems like hundreds of lines to learn before our performance in eight weeks. My mind is so wrapped up in the script I don’t notice the person who sits down beside me on the other end of the towel.

“Kacie, are you in there?” a male voice asks, making me jump in surprise. “I saw you sitting alone and thought you might like some company, but you seem busy so I’ll go.”

When I glance up, warmth rushes not only to my face but all over my body. Logan scoots closer, his leg brushing against mine. His cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. My gaze moves to his lips, and I can’t help biting my lower lip as I watch him speak. I’ve never felt like this before—this strong almost uncontrollable desire to lean forward, close the small gap between us, and press my lips to his.

“Kacie?” Logan calls out, snapping me from my thoughts. “Should I go?”

“No don’t go,” I say as I stuff the script back into my bag. “I’m sick of reading this script anyway. So what’s up?” I ask, my heart fluttering a bit when he rewards me with a brilliant smile.

He pulls an envelope from his backpack and hands it to me. The envelope is heavy ivory stock, very formal in appearance, with my name written across the front in elegant calligraphy lettering.
Kassandra Ramsey.
I don’t see my full name often. Curiosity wells within as I release the seal on the back, careful not to mar the ivory stock. There’s a notecard inside, also written in calligraphy.

“Vow of silence?” I ask a bit dumfounded. “No wonder your group gets compared to a secret society.”

“It’s not like that,” Logan says with a wink. “I think you of all people understand the need for discretion when it comes to certain talents.” He gives me a knowing look. When my hazel eyes widen at the realization, he nods and his lips curl into a serene smile. “I’ll meet you at your locker after school if you’d like an escort,” he offers in a rather casual tone, though if I’m not just reading things into it, his gaze is anything but casual. His fingers rake through his curly hair in what almost appears to be a nervous gesture.

“Sure, Logan, that’d be great,” I reply, trying not to blush. My heart races, the beat rattling my chest. He flashes another killer smile before he stands.

“I’ll see you after school then,” he says before turning and walking away.

A tiny sigh escapes me as I watch him walk away, unable to ignore how his jeans cling to his long legs. I’m so enrapt with Logan’s retreating figure that I jump and squeal when Celia plops down beside me. She’s dressed to perfection as usual, her denim miniskirt hugging her tanned legs, adorable black ankle boots adorning her feet. A green and black varsity jacket covers her body, dwarfing her. Her boyfriend du jour is a fullback on the football team and built like a tank.

“Logan Finley, huh?” Celia says, tossing her long, blonde hair. Her dark eyes twinkle with a knowing look. “Holding hands at the party last night and now making googly eyes at each other.”

“He invited me to a club meeting today,” I say, trying not to sound as interested in him as I feel.

When Celia lets out a tiny gasp, I realize my mistake. She knows the basic stats on every cute guy in school—guess she’d have to considering she has a new boyfriend every month or so.

“The Orion Circle,” she breathes in wonder. “I can’t believe it. You have to tell me everything that happens!”

“Can’t,” I tell her. “I have to take a vow of silence.”

“No way,” she says. Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Wow it really is a secret society.” When she begins to pout I have to stifle a giggle. “So you’re into Logan?” she asks, the beaming smile returning to her face. It’s sometimes exhausting to keep up with her mood swings.

“Well,” I say ready to defer, but then I realize I have to get it out or I might explode. “He’s gorgeous, I’m totally into him. I could get lost in his eyes,” I admit in a whisper as my cheeks heat up. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“Of course you do!” Celia all but squeals. “We need to make a detour to the bathroom, get your hair fixed, get some more make-up around your eyes, you know really make them pop…” She trails off, digging through her backpack.

Anxiety eats at me as I consider the awful things she might subject me to. When she pulls out a lash curler I cringe.

“That thing looks like some kind of medieval torture device. Put it up, Celia,” I say in exasperation. There’s no way she’s putting the metal monstrosity anywhere near my eyelashes. “If he doesn’t like me the way I am why would I want to be with him? Besides, I’m already wearing make-up.”

“Oh, Kacie, you’re so naïve. It’s cute, really,” she says looking at me like I’m a poor lost child. “Fine,” she sighs when I continue to glare at her. “Have it your way. You’re gorgeous so you can probably get away with it.” As she’s stuffing the eyelash curler back in her make-up case the bell rings signaling the end of fourth period. She leaps from the bench. “Let’s go, I’m only two tardies away from detention.”

I jump from the bench, grab the damp towel, and follow her back into the building.

When the final bell rings, I bolt from my desk and rush from the classroom. Pushing my way through the throng of chattering students, I arrive at my locker to find Logan waiting for me. He’s talking to Celia and her boyfriend, Jake, but when he notices my approach, his gaze moves to me as if the others have ceased to exist. His lips curl into an adorable smile, making my belly flutter in response. Celia and Jake step back so I can reach my locker, but Logan doesn’t move.

I brush up against him when I open the locker. Another tiny spark passes between us, causing me to shiver in response. The initial spark is followed by a very pleasant warm feeling, though I don’t know if the warmth is caused by my attraction to him or our shared psychic bond. It’s not like I can ask him yet.

“Well, I have to get to the theater for rehearsal,” Celia says in a bright chirp. She is Juliet in the fall production of Romeo and Juliet. “Call me later tonight, Kacie,” she calls over her shoulder while leading Jake away by the hand.

As I watch their blond heads disappear into the crowd, I realize her relationship with Jake has lasted six weeks, heading to a new record since she still seems infatuated with him. She’s not the only one with ammo for a phone call tonight. With a chuckle, I turn back to my locker and remove several notebooks, stuffing them into my backpack.

“Are you ready?” Logan asks in a soft murmur.

Closing my locker, I nod and smile at him, trying to hide my anxiety. Why did I agree to go to this club meeting? What if they sacrifice goats to some pagan god or something? Laughter wells up within at the absurd image of an animal sacrifice occurring on the third floor of the Sciences building. Besides, it couldn’t be a goat—it would have to be a cat or a fetal pig since that’s what the AP biology class is dissecting this year. I guess it could be a crawfish or an earthworm since the regular biology classes dissect those.

My laughter finally bubbles out when I picture figures in black robes sacrificing an earthworm to their pagan god. I feel Logan’s eyes on me. When I glance at him, he has a strange, indecipherable look on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern clouding his features.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” I reply, fighting another blush that threatens to form.

He walks down the hall, navigating through the maze of students, checking back every so often to make sure I’m still following. When we pass through the doors leading out into the damp autumn air, he surprises me by heading over to a bench rather than continuing to the Sciences building.

He sits down and motions for me to join him, so I lower myself to the gray stone bench. The stone soaked up the chilled rain today, and the cold passes through my jeans up into my body. I’ve always enjoyed cool weather, probably a tribute to my Norse ancestry. Though I shiver a bit, I feel exhilarated as a slight breeze ruffles my hair, making it dance around my head.

“I’m gonna break the rules and give you a heads up about us,” Logan says in a very low voice.

My eyes fly to his in surprise. He moves closer to me on the bench so our legs are touching.

“We are a paranormal research group. Hunters you might say, hence the name Orion. I know you’re already aware there’s more out there than meets the eye, but you’ll be surprised by just how much more there really is.”

He’s speaking in a very low voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard. I use this as an excuse to lean a little closer to him.

“So you investigate hauntings?” I murmur, intrigued by the idea.

“Not just hauntings, anything supernatural,” he replies. I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. “I can’t go into more detail until you’re a member. But don’t worry, Kacie. I’ll be right beside you today, and by tonight you’ll be a member, then we can talk.”

He stands and extends his hand to me. Taking his hand, I allow him to pull me from the bench. There’s no spark or jolt this time, just pleasant warmth that permeates me.

“It appears our powers are adjusting to each other,” he comments, a smile lighting his face.

“You know, my Dad always told me to hide my abilities,” I admit with a resounding sigh at the pain deeply ingrained from such a young age. “He said people wouldn’t understand. It embarrassed him when I’d talk to someone only visible to me. I’ve never had anyone to talk to before, you know about when things get scary.”

The last part comes out a whisper as images from my recurring dream surface unbidden.
VISION
, my brain shouts, making me cringe.
Fine vision
, I accede, trying to mollify my volatile powers.

“You’re not alone anymore, Kacie,” Logan says as he leads the way to the Sciences building, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “You can talk to me whenever you want, even two in the morning if needed.”

A smile lights my face at his generous offer, and for the first time since my mother walked out on us six years ago, I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Chapter Five — The Orion Circle

Chapter Five

The Orion Circle