Read Online Conspiracy Boy (Angel Academy) by Cecily White - Free Book Online Page B

McFarland had obediently moved all his stuff in from the archive room. Unfortunately, he had yet to move any of Smalley’s stuff out, which resulted in a bizarrely crowded workspace—figurines they had collected together, pictures of them holding hands. Even their nameplates still sat side by side on the desk: Headmistress Judy Smalley and Headmaster Henry McFarland. Like at any moment she might spring back to life and suggest they run this place together.
    A nip of guilt—coupled with a stab of failure—took up residence in my belly.
    “Did you tell Henry about last night?” I asked quietly as we approached the huge, carved oak door. “About Lyle dying? And me bringing him back?”
    “I did tell him, but not about Lyle,” Jack said, his voice softening. “I didn’t think you needed more pressure.”
    I looked at the ground, but said nothing. Maybe I did need pressure. Or something, anyway. I should be able to revivify anyone. Headmistress Smalley. My mom. Ringo Starr.
    “Maybe Bertle was right and all my powers are useless.” I sighed. “Maybe I should just hang it up and relocate to an abandoned cave.”
    “Caves are cliché,” he said.
    “And they smell funny,” I added.
    “You wouldn’t want to be a smelly cliché.”
    Jack’s lips touched my forehead in a soft gesture I knew he meant as comfort. And it was comforting, for about four seconds. That’s how long it took for the light threads of our bond to gather. For the flickering pyrotechnic display to charge up under my skin. For the wicked hum of Crossworld power to surge through every nerve ending in my body. God, I loved this part—the feeling of utter completion. Like everything was exactly as it should be and I was right where I belonged.
    He hesitated before taking a step back. “Sorry.”
    “Don’t be,” I said, shaking off the light remnants. As much as I hated to feel them fade, I knew the dangers of having a live bond connection at school. Especially between me and Jack. Too many people already suspected there was something going on between us beyond just dating. If the Guardian Elders ever confirmed the unauthorized bond, there was no telling what they’d do to try to stop it.
    “C’mon.” I sighed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
    The huge oak door to Smalley’s office creaked open as we made our way down the hallway. Light spilled across the floor in a stark beam, and rainbows danced off the hallway chandelier in moon-shaped streaks.
    “Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” Henry emerged from the office, his arms overflowing with loose-leaf paper and stained parchment the color of playground dirt. “They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
    “They?” I asked.
    “Immortals and Elders. They’re here for the peace summit,” Jack said. “Akira called it about a week ago to address some issues she has with the prophecy not being properly fulfilled.”
    “What prophecy? My prophecy?”
    “I prefer to think of it as my prophecy, but yes. That’s the one.” Jack swiveled to wink at me.
    Near the conference room, a small crowd had gathered. And when I say “small crowd,” what I mean is ten to twelve people wearing black academic robes, half a dozen men in suits, two heavily inked Enforcement agents, a gaggle of women with austere buns, a white-haired guy in a red cloak. And Annabelle.
    For the first time since I met her, Annabelle wasn’t the freakiest person in the room.
    Henry shuffled past her without a sideways glance and dumped his wad o’ paper on a massive mahogany table, scattering half of it onto the floor. The bun women exchanged disapproving glances, and the cloak guy gave a hearty chuckle.
    “D’ya need a hand, Hen-reh?” he bellowed in a thick Scottish brogue.
    Henry gave a tight smile, but didn’t meet the man’s eyes. “Thanks, Seamus. I’ve got it.”
    I hung back as we approached the doorway. “Is that Seamus McRoy? Or possibly the guy from Braveheart ?”
    Jack nudged me.