Secret Lives Read Online Free PDF

wasn’t going to be as over-excited as a scholarship girl on her first night.
    Oh, this was hopeless. Sliding off the bed, she padded back to the window and pulled the curtain a little wider. Recognisable landmarks sparkled like huge jewels, familiar from the books Patrick had shown her: the Arc de Triomphe, the towering obelisk in the place de la Concorde, the Eiffel Tower. Earlier tonight, Isabella had hauled her across to the window.
    ‘It’s so beautiful, look! La ville lumière , Cassie – the City of Light!’ Isabella had laughed with delight. ‘What better place for the Darke Academy?’
    Their room was three floors up. How much more, Cassie wondered, would she see from the top?
    In the oppressive heat Cassie couldn’t bear to pull on her dressing gown and slippers. Anyway, her T-shirt-and-baggies ensemble was perfectly decent, if a bit lacking in the Parisian style department. As she eased open the door, Isabella stirred, turned over, and resumed her snoring. Exhaling, Cassie slipped out into the corridor.
    She was relieved to see that small wall lamps burned softly, creating pools of light in the darkness. Not that she was afraid of the dark. She knew there were worse things to be afraid of than ghosts and vampires and werewolves.
    Words, for instance. Words were like fangs, if they were sharpened by an expert like Jilly Beaton. Words could bite deep.
    Oh, you’re a worthless little slut, Cassandra Bell. Even a worthless big slut like your mother didn’t want you .
    She used to be scared of Jilly Beaton. Too scared to tell anyone about her vile bullying.
    No one will believe you, anyway, filthy little liar that you are! It’s in your file – compulsive liar. You try telling anyone and I’ll have your privileges withdrawn again .
    So Cassie never had told anyone. She learned to fend for herself instead. And as she got older and taller, and discovered that a cold, blank gaze of hatred worked better than crying or shouting, Jilly Beaton left her alone and picked on smaller kids instead. Only now Jilly never knew when she would turn away from tormenting some poor girl to find Cassie watching silently, her eyes full of the silent promise of retribution, one day. That seemed to put her off. Made her keep her distance and bought the other girls some relief, if only for a few weeks.
    Cassie shivered, wishing she’d worn her dressing gown after all. At least she’d had Patrick. She trusted him – just not with everything, that was all. He’d brought her out of herself, made her laugh, taught her she wasn’t worthless. And now here she was, at one of the most prestigious schools in the world.
    Life was funny …
    Barefoot, she crept towards the grand staircase. She wasn’t scared, but boy, this place was creepy. If she thought too much, if she listened too hard, she could almost hear sounds. Creaks. Whispers. The sigh of a faint breeze. A footfall.
    Oh, don’t be daft. She gave herself a mental slap.
    No. There it was again. Freezing, she strained to listen.
    Yes. Definitely. The sound came from below. A very soft step; if it hadn’t fallen on the marble floor of the entrance hall, she’d never have heard it. This wasn’t the careful tread of someone who didn’t want to disturb sleepers – it was someone who didn’t want to be discovered. Cassie knew the difference.
    An intruder? Hesitantly, she put a hand on the gilded banister and peered down into the gloom.
    Moonlight and shadows, and for an instant the hall was full of ghosts. Her heart turned over in her chest, but a second later Cassie recognised the white shapes. The statues she’d seen earlier.
    Something was still wrong, though. Achilles was slaying Hector, mercilessly, but there were only two marble figures on that plinth. So why were three shadows cast on to the floor?
    Someone was hiding. Whoever it was had ducked behind the plinth when they heard someone coming. Now Cassie could also hear unmuffled footsteps. As she watched, holding her