The Power Page 0,38

well . . . looks like a Type-A violation to me," an officious voice said. "Public displays of affection, inappropriate to the serious and dignified purpose of formal education. What do you say, Portia?"

Nick and Cassie broke apart, Cassie flushing.

"I think it's just too revolting," Portia Bainbridge said.

Behind her was a gaggle of hall monitors, on their way to the meeting, apparently. There were maybe thirty of them. Cassie's heart was suddenly beating hard and fast.

"And it's her fault," Portia went on, looking down her aristocratic nose at Cassie. "I heard her initiate it. Let's take her in."

"That's right, the little flirt," Sally said. Cassie remembered Sally's voice in the bathroom; the anger in it, the viciousness. This one had every guy at Homecoming dance following her around with his tongue hanging out - including my boyfriend. She'd come to think of herself so differently since she'd overheard Sally talking about her that day.

Nick was looking at the group of monitors, his face cold - like the old Nick, the one Cassie had first met. Cold as ice. "Take her where? The penalty for a Type-A offense is supposed to be detention. Or don't you read your own rules?" he said.

"We decide what the penalties are - " Portia began, but Sally interrupted.

"She was refusing to cooperate with a hall monitor at lunchtime," she said. "That's what we're taking her in for. Mr. Brunswick gave us special instructions. "We're going to take her to the office - she can talk to him."

"Then you can take both of us," Nick said. His arm tightened on Cassie.

There were too many of them. Cassie's eyes skimmed over the crowd of hall monitors, seeing not a friendly face among them. All seniors, all kids who hated witches. And Faye wasn't here now.

"Nick," she said, her voice soft and careful over the thumping of her heart, "I think I'd better go with them." She glanced back at Sally. "Can I just say good-bye to him?"

Looking sardonic, Sally nodded. Cassie put her arms around Nick's neck.

"Get the others," she whispered in his ear. "The monitors will be in their meeting - you'll have to find a way to get me out."

As he drew back, Nick's mahogany eyes met hers in acknowledgement. Then, with an expressionless look at Sally, he stood aside.

The group of monitors surrounded Cassie and escorted her down the hall, treating her like a mass murderer. She had a wild impulse to giggle, but as they reached the office the urge disappeared in a flood of sheer dread and anxiety.

He planned this, she thought. Maybe not this specifically, today. But he knew he'd get us somehow, one by one. She tried to ignore the little voice whispering, he knew he'd get you. It's you he's after.

Because she was an outsider - or because she didn't fit in with his plans. A vision of Kori flashed through her mind: Kori lying stiff and motionless with a broken neck at the bottom of the hill. She'd seen what happened to people who didn't fit in with Black John's plans.

"Maybe if you bat your eyes at him he'll let you off," Sally whispered spitefully and pushed her in the office door.

Cassie didn't answer. She couldn't.

She hadn't been in this office since she'd gone to Mr. Fogle to complain that Faye was persecuting her. It looked the same, except that there was a crackling fire in the fireplace now. And the man behind the desk was different.

Don't look at him, Cassie thought, as the door swung shut behind her, but she couldn't help it. Those black eyes held hers from the instant she glanced toward the desk. That hawklike face betrayed no sign of surprise that she was there.

The principal put a slim gold-plated pen on the desk with a barely audible click.

"Cassandra," he said.

Cassie's knees felt weak.

It was the voice of the shadow. A dark, liquid voice. So quiet, so insidious - so evil. Under his hematite-black eyes she felt naked, exposed. As if he were looking at her mind. Looking for a crack to get in.

"Mr. Brunswick," she said. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. Polite, but distant.

He smiled.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and a black jacket. He stood, resting his fingertips on the desk.

"So brave," he said. "I'm proud of you."

It was the last thing she expected. Cassie just stared at him. Her fingers flew automatically to the bump of the amethyst pendant under her sweater.

His eyes followed the movement. "I wouldn't