House of Darken (Secret Keepers #1)

“So this is the scholarship section,” Cara said, her elegant nose wrinkling. “They stash us down here. It takes us forever to get back to our classes. Thankfully, the teachers rarely care what we do. They don’t even notice whether we’re there or not.”

Lovely. My locker was 1102, and it was already cleared of all previous student information, so all I had to do was touch my thumb to it and then it was mine. Inside, all of my textbooks were neatly stacked. There were even extra notepads and pens. Sara and Michael had assured me that this scholarship included everything, and it looked like they had been right.

Cara crowded close to me and I forced myself not to push her away. She had no concept of personal space at all. I was getting used to it, but this was very close. I didn’t want her to know I was a damaged freak yet. I needed at least one friend. So, holding my breath, I waited while she rifled through my things. Finally she grabbed the books for my first few classes, and a small card.

“This card is for your lunch,” she said, handing everything to me. “We don’t get to eat the same food as the other students, but you won’t starve. Keep this on you.”

I took it from her, surprised to see my face on the side in a small square. “Yeah, it’s also your ID card, and as you can see, ours are red.” She whipped out her card too and flashed it at me. “The elite have black, and the rest of the school get purple. The class system here is insane. You need to learn your place fast.”

I swallowed hard, tucking my ID into my pocket. An actual class system? What the hell had I gotten myself into?





4





Homeroom was just finishing as we made our way back toward the main building. Students streamed out into the hallway again. Cara assured me that they would have already marked me as being present. The school monitored everything through these palm pad devices – they were the size of smartphones, and specifically designed for the Starslight network.

It would be wise for me to remember that every time I opened my locker, or passed one of the many surveillance cameras, I was being watched. It made me feel almost as paranoid as Sara and Michael with all their conspiracy theories.

A lurch of worry rocked my stomach as I thought about my guardians. I’d been trying to ignore it, and a new school was definitely a good distraction, but ever since I’d gotten up this morning to find they were still not home, a decided feeling of dread had settled into my gut.

Something was wrong. I just continued to hope that whatever it was they’d be back by the time I got home this afternoon. Otherwise I’d have to figure out what to do. I had to push that worry down again when we reached the history classroom door.

Cara left me with a wave and I started inside. I always took history; it was my favorite subject, along with archeology and anthropology, which I hoped to study in college. With this school’s curriculum, I was a little confused though. It wasn’t very clear what sort of history this class was about. There hadn’t been an American history course on offer here, or any other kind I recognized. My favorite was ancient history, but I love it all, really. I religiously watched Indiana Jones and Bones in my spare time. Well, at least I had, before the fire destroyed my DVD collection, and my life.

Walking farther into the room, there were about twenty desks spread throughout it. Nice desks, with what looked like real wooden bench-tops. The chairs were padded with a thick dark cushion. Everything looked larger and more comfortable than any other school I’d been in.

As I glanced between the many empty spaces, I wondered if there was assigned seating. I should have asked Cara. Deciding it was better just to sit and move if I was in someone’s chair, I chose a spot close to the back, on the left side, furthest from the door. I dropped my backpack on the floor and pulled out the history text, a notepad, and pen. I had a few minutes, so I quickly flipped over the front page of the thick textbook to see if I could figure out what we were studying.

Pausing on the table of contents, the book appeared to be divided into four main sections. Number one was … “House of Darken.” I ran my eyes over the other three sections. “House of Royale.” “House of Leight.” “House of Imperial.” The large bolded title at the top of the four sections read: Starslights’ founding families.

Well, shut the history classroom door. Now I understood about the elite and chosen thing. The founding fathers … those statues out the front … they were linked to the rich guys from my street.

Still, how could they have an entire class about the founders of this school? How was there enough information here to warrant that?

My interest was rising as I continued to scan the subheadings under each of the sections. One was focused on Astoria, another titled The Rise of Humankind. Um … what? This school was whack. Why did rich people think they could just do whatever they wanted? They had pretty much discounted all history here except that of the four families who’d founded this school. Arrogance, thy name is Starslight Prep.

A few students were trickling into the classroom. I made a concerted effort to keep my gaze on the page, not really wanting to catch anyone’s eye yet. Cara’s warnings were paramount in the back of my head, and even though it annoyed me that they would even have such a class system, I decided to lay low until I learned the ropes. From beneath my lashes I saw a few glances thrown in my direction, but thankfully most dismissed me without a second look. One or two might have narrowed their eyes at me, but no one sat on my side of the room. In fact it almost looked as if they were all choosing to sit as far from me as possible.

Whatever. I don’t care. I stared down at my white knuckles clenched tightly on the desk as I continued to remind myself that I just had to make it through this year. One more year. After the last eight months, I should be able to make it through anything.

My eyes felt hot. I was an emotional crier, especially when I was spitting mad. Somehow my body interpreted fury as a need for a decent cry. Today I wasn’t furious, I was nervous. So it was easier to hold back the tears.

From my lowered gaze, a pair of Testoni dress shoes came into view. The only reason I knew what that brand was – and the fact these shoes were worth about two thousand dollars – was because of my friend back in Cali whose dad was a lawyer and loved expensive shoes. And so apparently did this person, who wasn’t shifting from in front of my desk. With a barely audible exhalation I lifted my gaze to find a pair of piercing blue eyes boring into me. Most of my body froze. Only my mouth worked as I tried to moisten my lips.

Jero Darken stood there, not moving, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he was trying to figure out what sort of creature I was. Up close I noticed all the little details I’d missed outside. His skin was dark, almost copper in tone, and it might have been a trick of the light but it appeared to be softly glowing in the well-lit classroom. His dark hair had streaks of caramel through it and was a little longer than I’d thought, hanging over his ears in styled disarray. His features were masculine but finely honed. Well-defined brows arched over those unbelievable eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a color like that, blue but light, like the early spring sky. Against his skin they popped out at me, the color mesmerizing, though I did look away from them long enough to notice a small, older and faded scar that ran from his right ear down his jawline, giving him a roughish look. All in all, this was one potent, pretty, glaring, interesting specimen of guy.