The Dolls Read Online Free PDF Page B

goes?”
    “Nah. He kind of keeps to himself.” He gives me a look as he adds, “Every girl in Carrefour is in love with him. Don’t tell me you are too.”
    “Of course not,” I say quickly. “I don’t even know him.”
    “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a crush on him soon enough, just like everyone else.” He studies me for a moment. “So you want to know about the others too?”
    “Sure.” I’m embarrassed that he apparently thinks I just want to hear about Caleb, although that’s exactly what I want.
    “The guy with the dark hair who looks like a model is Pascal Auteuil” he begins. “Rich as sin, and the biggest man-whore in town. Rumor is he’s even slept with a few teachers.”
    “Ew,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
    “The other dude’s Justin Cooper. Never heard of him a year ago, but now he’s always there, following Chloe around like a lost puppy. In case you hadn’t guessed, pretty much every guy in town lusts after her and Peregrine.”
    “Do . . . you feel that way about them too?” I hate that I sound jealous, because I’m not exactly. I just don’t want to hear that Drew is also under the snake girl’s spell.
    Drew’s eyes bore into mine as he says, “No. I appreciate it when a girl is kind and down-to-earth.” He pauses and adds, “Like you.”
    I look away, flustered. “So who are the other two?”
    “They’re impossible to tell apart—not that you really have to. I’ve never seen them separated from each other—or from Peregrine and Chloe. Out in the Périphérie, we call them the Clones, but their real names are Margaux and Arelia.”
    “Arelia?” It takes me a moment to realize why the name rings a bell. “That’s who Glory said she was going to meet the night she died.”
    “She did?” Drew blinks a few times. “Did she say anything else?”
    “Not really.” I shudder. “I still don’t understand it. She seemed like she was in a good mood. We talked about school. She was picking herbs. Why would she be doing that if she was on her way to stab herself through the heart?”
    He hesitates. “I have no idea. But Glory, she was a cool girl. Not like the rest of the Dolls.” He checks his watch and stands up. “Listen, I’d better be going. But how about Sunday? The Périphérie’s always a good time. I promise, you’ll have fun.”
    I tell him I’m in, and he says he’ll pick me up at five thirty. But as I walk him out of the garden toward the front yard and we hug good-bye, I’m only thinking about Glory and what she could have been doing the night she died. And despite myself, I’m also thinking of the guy with the brilliant blue eyes, the very intriguing Caleb Shaw.
    That night, I dream again of the parlor off the front hall. I’m walking down the stairs, but when I look at my feet, I’m surprised to find that I’m floating. In a panic, I grab for the railing, but my hand goes right through it, and I’m being carried toward the parlor, powerless to stop.
    I smell blood in the air, and there’s the scent of roses and fire too. As I float across the front hallway, the parlor doors creak open, and blood oozes out. I hear crying from inside the room and as I move through the doorway, I see a little girl standing off to the left, her back to me, the bottom of her nightgown soaked in blood. There’s something beside her on the ground, and I strain to see, but it’s hidden in the shadows.
    That’s when the girl turns. Her hands are stained with blood, and her face is streaked with tears. My whole body goes cold as I recognize her immediately.
    It’s me.
    “ Please help ,” she whimpers.
    I wake up with a start. It takes me an hour to fall asleep again, and the smell of blood and death are still with me when morning comes.

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5
    B y the time I finally drag myself out of bed the next morning, Aunt Bea is gone. She’s left