скачать книгу бесплатно
“I love you,” I gush, as I make my way into the kitchen.
She turns away from the stove to smile at me. “No, you only use me for my cooking skills.”
“Not true!” I give her a half hug and lean over to peer at the pot of rice bubbling away on the stove.
“OK, enough games now. I’m worried about your father.” She peeks at the oven, then turns her full attention to me. “It’s not normal for him to have so much work at the university now – they’ve only just opened.”
“It’s the Salinger project.” I sigh and walk to the fridge for some water. “He’s supposed to be getting help from Ntatemogolo, but you know how it is with them.”
Her eyes widen with understanding. “Can’t you talk to them?”
“I’ve tried.” I slump against the counter.
She frowns thoughtfully. “Keep trying. But for now, come and make some vegetables for the stew. I know you’re going to a party tonight, but you must eat some real food first.”
“Auntie, you don’t want me to fit into my party clothes?”
“Party clothes? You?” She throws an incredulous glance over her shoulder as she lifts the lid of the rice pot.
I laugh. “I do have a few nice things, you know.”
“Yes – the ones I made you,” she teases. “Come, come – my vegetables. There’s the chopping board.”
I smile as I reach for the chopping board and knife, but she’s got me thinking. I really have to find a way to get Dad to agree to work with Ntatemogolo. Now that school is over, I’ll have lots of free time to come up with a plan.
Chapter Three (#u71dca431-65ec-55ab-ab12-4ad03ac74f4c)
I stand in front of my mirror, scowling at my reflection. I hate clothes. I hate parties. At this moment I even hate Lebz, who looks like a million bucks in her black leather pants, ankle boots and silk top. She has a red sash around her braids and a cute handbag shaped like a fan.
I’m wearing black jeans with a ridiculous sequinned dragon clawing its way up the thigh, and a miniscule white shirt that Lebz insisted on bringing. It looks like it shrunk in the washing machine. “No.”
“But it’s so cute!”
“How can it be cute? It’s invisible!” I struggle with the top for a few minutes before finally getting it off, then rummage in my wardrobe and pull out a red The Doors T-shirt with the collar and sleeves cut off. I love this T-shirt – it falls over one shoulder and hangs just below my hips. I have no idea who The Doors are – the T-shirt used to belong to my father before I hijacked it – but I like it anyway.
I pull off the jeans and replace them with a pair of faded black jeans I’ve been wearing forever. I push my feet into hi-top All-Stars, tie a black band around my hair and I’m set.
“You know, that look isn’t as bad as I expected,” Lebz remarks, giving me the once-over.
I roll my eyes at her and grab a jacket. “Where is Wiki? Rakwena will be here in a few minutes and I don’t want to make him drive all the way to Phase 2.”
Lebz gets up and goes to the mirror to check her hair. She’s done some interesting twisty thing with her braids that must have taken ages. “Relax. He’ll be here.”
As if on cue, I hear a car pull up outside. “Finally!” I hurry to the door and pull it open just as Wiki is coming up the driveway. I wave at his father before he drives off.
“I’m sorry I’m late – my dad was in the middle of something.” True to his word, Wiki has his laptop bag on his shoulder.
Rakwena arrives a few minutes later. I lock up the house and pocket my key, send Dad a quick text to let him know when to expect me back, and then we’re off.
“I wish you were coming,” I tell Rakwena, as the car moves through the streets.
“I don’t. Besides, you have two experienced bodyguards,” he points out, looking at Lebz and Wiki in the rear-view mirror.
Somehow this doesn’t exactly reassure me. Wiki, despite his best intentions, is going to be absorbed in his laptop, and once Lebz is swallowed by the crowd I won’t see her for the rest of the night. Hopefully this Spencer guy and his buddies will keep me entertained, otherwise I’m going to be stuck watching anime with Wiki.
Kelly lives in a sprawling estate in Broadhurst. Her stepfather does something to do with medicine – medical supplies, or pharmaceuticals or something – and he’s the only father she’s ever known. Her real father left when she was a baby. She got an upgrade if you ask me – her stepdad treats her like a princess.
Rakwena pulls up outside the house, and Lebz’s door is open before the car has even come to a complete stop.
“Thanks, Lizard!” she chirps, hopping out of the car.
“Yes, thank you.” Wiki heaves a sigh of resignation and glances miserably at the house. “Not to be a bother, but is there any chance of a ride home?”
“Sure,” says Rakwena with a sympathetic grin. “I’ll be coming to get Connie around eleven. I can drop you off, no problem.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Wiki gets out of the car and trails behind Lebz, who has already started dancing her way up the driveway to the beat of some ghastly ragga tune.
“Better get going before I lose my bodyguards.” I turn towards the door.
“Hey.” Rakwena takes my hand. “Be careful.”
“I will.” It occurs to me that he no longer seems as worried as he was the last time we spoke. From trying to convince me not to go to the party at all, he’s switched to being almost nonchalant. My sixth sense is tingling, but the car is idling and Wiki’s waiting for me near the door.
I give Rakwena a quick kiss and climb out of the car. Lebz, of course, is nowhere to be seen. Wiki and I step into Wonderland. It’s loud, and very different from Thuli’s party. There’s no wine, no carefully laid table, and no red carpet. It’s just a huge house crammed to bursting with rowdy kids.
Amantle is standing in the foyer, welcoming the guests. She’s dressed in a slinky minidress and looks about eighteen instead of fourteen. I’ve noticed that after getting rid of the bewitched necklace that the Puppetmaster used to control her, she no longer wears any kind of jewellery. I suppose you can’t be too careful.
Seeing her dressed up like this triggers a flashback of the sort of outfits she and her friends wore when they were under the Puppetmaster’s power, and that reminds me of Emily. I bite my lip. I never told Amantle that Emily was still working for him; once Emily left there seemed no point in freaking the others out. As far as they’re concerned, all five of them are safe and well. I think it’s best they keep thinking that.
Amantle waves us over. “I’m glad you came,” she yells over the music. “You didn’t bring Rakwena?”
“He didn’t get an invite,” I remind her.
“Ja, but I assumed…never mind.” She glances over her shoulder and leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Could you do me a favour? I know it’s a party and you’re here to have fun, but…”
My eyes narrow. Trouble already? I haven’t even been here five minutes! “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, yet. Just keep your eyes open.” She flashes me a bright, slightly plastic smile. “There are a lot of people here, and I don’t know all of them, and I…I don’t want anyone getting in any trouble, if you know what I mean.”
I know exactly what she means. After what happened to Amantle and her friends last year, she’s become a lot more wary of the people she mixes with. I nod and give her manicured hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be on the lookout.”
“Thanks.” Her tone is casual, but I can sense her relief. “Have a good time! Just let me know if you need anything.” And she’s off to make nice with some other guests.
Wiki raises his eyebrows at me. “You think there’s something to worry about?”
“I’ll soon find out.” We make our way towards the main room, where all the action is. I’m scanning the faces in the crowd and I’m on high alert, just in case. I don’t expect trouble – at least not the supernatural kind – but you never know.
Wiki and I find ourselves a corner next to a power outlet and he whips out his laptop while I go to find us some drinks. I don’t see any booze on the table, but there are plenty of suspicious-looking liquids in people’s cups. I pour us some lemonade and load a paper plate with chips and biscuits, then head back to our corner.
Wiki already has an episode of the anime Naruto loaded and ready to go. He looks up and takes one paper cup. “Thanks. Picking up any unusual vibrations yet?”
“Besides the bass pumping in my chest? Nope.” I slouch in my chair, sipping my drink and watching the well-dressed (in some cases half-dressed) crowd.
“This is a great episode,” says Wiki, offering me one of his earphones.
I shake my head. “I have to stay focused – I’m here to check out the Cresta Crew, remember?”
He shrugs, puts in the earphones and is officially in his own world. I nibble my chips. I haven’t spotted Kelly yet. Maybe she and her new beau are already holed up in her room. I catch a brief glimpse of Lebz getting down on the dance floor with a few of Kelly’s cronies, then my gaze keeps moving. Some kids from my class, a couple of Form Three boys, Refilwe, one of Amantle’s friends…and then I see him.
Thuli. The fear is so overwhelming that for a second I’m convinced I’m going to suffocate and die, right there in that chair in a dark corner of the living room, and no one will notice. But the feeling is gone as quickly as it came, and I wonder what came over me. I see him occasionally at school, but this feels different. Maybe because it’s a party, like the one at his house. Maybe my body remembers a lot more clearly than I thought.
His long dreadlocks are loose and he’s leaning against the wall, deep in conversation with a guy I don’t recognise. The guy gives a distracted nod and looks up, scanning the crowd. My heart jumps and I sit up straight. He’s one of the Cresta Crew. He must be – he looks like he climbed out of a magazine. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with muscular arms. He has dreadlocks, too, but his make Thuli’s look like tatty bits of rope. They’re thick and beautiful, and even tied up they fall all the way down his back. He looks about twenty, with a neat goatee. Now I know what Lebz was talking about – this guy is seriously good-looking.
Thuli forgotten, I get to my feet to take a closer look. The guy is no longer paying attention to Thuli. He’s caught sight of something far more interesting, and he’s watching it with a slight smile. I follow his gaze. It’s a girl, scantily clad and gyrating against the back of a chair. I find her repulsive, but Mr Rapunzel seems to think she’s the catch of the day.
Then something distracts him and he turns his head. He murmurs something to Thuli, who looks very unimpressed, and then walks away. I push my way through the crowd, keeping Rapunzel in sight. He stops beside another genetically gifted specimen. This one has a neat brush-cut and is the size of the Incredible Hulk, but apart from that they could be brothers. There’s an air of authority about the big one, and something else – an undercurrent of danger. He’s like a tiger in captivity – beautiful, calm, but still lethal behind the thin sheet of glass. They talk in hushed tones and Hulk nods towards a small group of dancers.
I follow his gaze. In the little knot of people I see a few girls and four guys. Two of them are significantly more attractive than the others. They’re both light-skinned, one with a mop of curly hair and the other with cornrows, and they look like twins. I glance from them to the other pair, and once again I notice a resemblance. Two sets of brothers who are related to each other – cousins, maybe? Lebz said there were six of them, so that leaves two. Spencer must be with Kelly, and the other one…I search the room, but there’s no sign of him.
Suddenly a head pops up, blocking my line of sight. “Hi! Wanna dance?”
I zone in on the chubby face and I’m rewarded with a smile. “No, thanks. I’m in the middle of something.”
“Really?” He looks me up and down. “Seems like you’re just wandering around. I’m Tshiamo. You’re in my Business Studies class.”
“Right. Connie.” I hold out my hand, leaning slightly to the right to see past his head.
He ignores my hand. “So, are you friends with Kelly?”
What is it with this boy? Doesn’t he know I’m the girl you’re supposed to avoid? I don’t remember ever speaking to him before, and right now the last thing I need is a distraction.
“Um, no. She’s friends with my friends. Listen, not to be rude, but – ”
“So, you’re dating that Black Lizard guy, right?” He leans towards me, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What’s he like?”
I stare at him. I haven’t heard anyone call Rakwena by that nickname in a while. He earned it thanks to the lizard tattoo on his arm. It’s funny – I used to call him that, too, before I got to know him. It seems like a lifetime ago. I sigh. Tshiamo seems a little nervous – maybe he’s as socially awkward as I am and doesn’t want to sit in a corner by himself.
“His name is Rakwena,” I tell him. “And he’s cool.”
“But scary, right?”
I have to smile. “No, not really.”
“Huh.” He gives me a funny look, and I’m tempted to take a little sojourn into his thoughts. I can sense his concern. “But he’s…” He licks his lips and lowers his gaze for a second. “He’s nice to you, and everything?”
I look into his eyes. I’m the one he’s worried about! He thinks big, bad Black Lizard is some kind of bully. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Wait till I tell Rakwena about this. “He’s very nice to me,” I assure him.
“Huh,” he says again, and somehow manages to inject a wealth of scepticism into that solitary syllable.
“Connie!”
I jump at the sound of Lebz’s voice. “Oh, it’s you.” I lean over to sniff the cup in her hand and she bats me away.
“What are you, my mother?” She glances at Tshiamo. “What’s up, Tshiamo?”
“Nah, just hanging,” he replies. Of course they know each other. I’m the only wallflower in school.
“Lebz, please don’t go picking up random cups.” I study her for signs of inebriation, but she seems fine.
“I poured it myself,” she assures me. “It’s only cider, and I promise I’m only having two. OK? But listen, any progress?” She shoots a wary glance at Tshiamo.
I nod. “But nothing conclusive.”
“Keep trying.” She takes another gulp of cider. “Yoh, I love this song. See you later!” She totters away on her high heels.
“So, Connie, blah blah blah.”
That’s not really what Tshiamo is saying, but it might as well be for all the attention I’m paying him. I’ve just spotted another too-pretty-to-be-normal boy.
He looks younger than me, and he’s standing by himself in a corner, apparently oblivious of all the come-hither looks he’s getting from the girls nearby. He’s something of a cross between the other four – warm brown skin, long dreadlocks, but not as long as Rapunzel’s. He’s looking down as if deep in thought. He has a sweet, innocent face, and I feel an odd rush of maternal affection. He looks up, right into my eyes, and smiles as if he knew I was watching him all along.
For a second I’m too shocked to react. His smile isn’t suggestive or accusatory, it’s shy and friendly. Without thinking, I smile back, and he immediately starts moving towards me. I look away and my gaze falls on his two buddies, Rapunzel and Hulk. Both are watching me, and neither looks happy.
I turn back to the little one, wondering how this is going to play out. He seems harmless – what’s he going to do? Charm me to death? When I glance back at the glowering faces of Rapunzel and Hulk I feel the unmistakeable sting of possible mortal peril. The energy coming off them is so strong and sudden that it takes me by surprise. Oh, yes, they’re gifted. No doubt about it now. They’re gifted and angry, and that’s a dangerous combination.
Suddenly Tshiamo’s hand closes over my wrist and he starts pulling me in the opposite direction from my gifted quarry.
“What are you doing?” I yank my arm from his grip and glare at him.
“I just thought you might want to dance,” he sputters.
“I already said no.”
“Yes, but…” His gaze keeps flitting away from my face, and his anxiety is mounting. I see sweat breaking out on his forehead, and it’s not from the fancy lighting. “I’m supposed to keep you away from other guys. Especially those guys.”
I gape at him, perplexed. “What are you talking about?” I let my gift slide slowly towards his mind. This is no time to be ethical – something’s got this guy worked up and I want to know what it is.
“Forget it,” he blurts out, backing away. “I made a mistake.” He hurries off before I can lock onto his thoughts, muttering, “Crazy jealous types.”
I’m about to go after him when someone behind me says, “Hi.”
I turn to look into the adorable face of the baby of the Cresta Crew. His eyes are like molten chocolate, sweet, warm and inviting. He’s so irresistibly cute I have to clench my hands into fists to keep myself from pinching his cheeks. It’s ridiculous – he’s baby booties, puppies and kittens all rolled into one. He oozes wholesome innocence. It’s too overwhelming to be natural, so I can only assume it’s supernatural. So far I’m certain that three out of the six members of this group are gifted, and that’s already a rarity. Lebz’s theory might hold water, after all.
The boy turns on a sunshine smile that smashes my innate wariness to bits. “You must be Conyza.”
Fragments of suspicion stir from the wreckage. Sure, he’s sweet, but how does he know my name? “Do I know you?” I venture.
“Not yet. I’m Duma.” He holds out his hand.
