The Wicked Awakening of Anne Merchant Read Online Free PDF Page A

to hurt me, not because he’s taking pleasure in the jealousy written all over my face.
    The island as a whole, barking sea lions and rustling leaves included, goes silent waiting for the woman in green to speak.
    “Good afternoon,” she says at last.
    I want to have her voice.
    When I tear my eyes from her, I notice everyone else is transfixed, too. It’s not because this woman is beautiful, though she is. No, it’s like she’s the sum of the parts I wish I had; maybe everyone else is thinking the same thing. We all envy her.
    “My name is Invidia, and I am pleased to welcome you, students, to the inauguration of the second headmaster in the sixty-five-year history of the Cania Christy Preparatory Academy.”
    As we applaud, I wonder about her name. I know Invidia is from the underworld; it goes without saying that she’s a demon of some kind. But while all of Mephisto’s followers have common names, like Kate Haem and Eve Risset (two of the most evil secretaries that ever lived), this woman’s name is classic Latin. Invidia . Perhaps all of Dia Voletto’s followers have Latin names. I make a mental note to look up the meaning of Invidia after the ceremony.
    “Without further ado,” Invidia says, “allow me to introduce the gentleman you have all been anxiously waiting to meet.” She pauses to allow more clapping. With an elegant flourish, she welcomes Dia Voletto to the podium. “Headmaster Voletto!”
    If Mephisto and his legions are physically simple or unattractive by design, Dia and his crew might have been created just to be gawked at, stared after, and maybe even yearned for. I could never see Dia Voletto as anything but the underworld führer he is—but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art when I behold it. Like most interesting art, Dia is composed of imperfect pieces that, together, are unlike anything the world has beheld before. He’s beautiful. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed that: in the corner of my eye, I spy Harper and the Model UN from Hell preening.
    “Look at this!” Dia exclaims as he takes his place at the podium and gazes at us all. “Such wonder! Such splendor! Such beauty! Students, thank you for this warm welcome, and please accept my sincere apologies for thrusting such a change on you so swiftly. Iassure you, under my leadership, this school will rise to be the haven of joy and opportunity you all wish it to be.”
    The sunlight, which has been flooding the normally cloudy island, glistens off his dark, wide irises. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear there was something charming about Dia Voletto.
    “That, of course, brings me to the matter I wish to discuss with you.”
    I watch Harper and her gang move closer to the stage, the better to bat their fake eyelashes at Dia. When they move, they reveal Ben, who’s standing just behind the gap they’ve created, the gap that two large boys quickly fill. I try to peer between their massive shoulders even as they snap at me to turn around. I’m this close to waving to get Ben’s attention when I stop.
    Because he’s not alone.
    Garnet Descarteres is standing next to him.
    Garnet . As in, Ben’s ex-girlfriend, Garnet. As in the former valedictorian who traded her soul to be with Ben again. What’s she doing with him? Hold on, why’s she stroking his arm?
    I face forward before either of them can see me looking.
    My heart is thumping so loudly, I’m sure it’ll give me away.
    That can’t be what it looks like , I think. Maybe she was dusting a bee off his sleeve. Or maybe not. I want to look again, to pick up cues, hints, or suggestions, but I don’t dare. I tell myself what Ben told me: that he wasn’t interested in her, that it had always been me, that from the day his funeral service was held in my family home—from the day I saw him in his open casket, and felt compelled to sketch him in those few moments before the mourners arrived, and tucked that sketch into his casket…and, finally,