Copyright © 2013 Samantha Young
Edited by Jennifer Sommersby Young
Cover stock image by Aleksei Aliev
Cover design by Samantha Young
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This work is registered with and protected by Copyright House.
Other Contemporary Novels by Samantha Young
On Dublin Street Series:
On Dublin Street
Down London Road
Until Fountain Bridge (a novella)
Young Adult Urban Fantasy titles by Samantha Young
The Tale of Lunarmorte Trilogy:
Moon Spell
River Cast
Blood Solstice
Warriors of Ankh Trilogy:
Blood Will Tell
Blood Past
Shades of Blood
Fire Spirits Series:
Smokeless Fire
Scorched Skies
Borrowed Ember
Darkness, Kindled
Other titles by Samantha Young
Slumber (The Fade #1)
Drip Drop Teardrop, a novella
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Acknowledgements
About the Author
For Whitney, Henny, Liza and Steph, my American roommates.
You made my first year at the University of Edinburgh so fun. I had the best time with you guys.
Thanks for the memories. And the funny photos. Those are definitely keepers…
“Did you go food shopping yet? Is the food expensive? Do you understand what half of it is?”
I swallowed my laughter. “Mom, I’m in Scotland, not the Amazon.”
“I know but they eat things we wouldn’t dare eat.”
She sounded so horrified I couldn’t help my dry retort. “They’re not cannibals.”
A spray of soda shot past my eyeline and I twisted to see my best friend Claudia choking on Diet Coke as she listened to my side of the conversation. We were sitting in the kitchen of our student apartment, our butts on the comfortable, but still weird, waiting room chairs that had been supplied in our common room/kitchen. Our backs were to the wide floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the courtyard of our building, the sun hitting the glass and prickling our skin with its heat. Everything about the room was clean, fresh, and hardwearing. The accommodation was basic but it was warm and safe and a million times better than I’d been led to believe it would be.
“So dramatic, Charley. I’m just saying, the food is a little different,” Mom continued. “I want to make sure you’re eating right.”
Whether I was in Edinburgh or back home in Indiana, my mom always wanted to make sure I was eating right. This was because I couldn’t cook. Delia Redford was an awesome cook and baker, as was her oldest daughter, Andrea, so she took the fact that her youngest (that would be me) couldn’t so much as boil pasta without screwing it up as a personal failure on her part. Luckily for me, I could read and work an oven so frozen dinners kept me from starvation.
“Mom, they eat pretty much what we eat mostly because … you know … they’re people.”
“Except their chocolate is better,” Claudia muttered, nibbling on a bar of Dairy Milk.
I frowned at her. “That’s a matter of opinion.”
“What’s a matter of opinion?” Mom asked curiously. “Is Claudia there? Is she eating right?”
My lips twitched. “Mom wants to know if you’re eating right?”
Claudia nodded and mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. “Never better.” She waved her fingers and swallowed, “Hi, Delia Mom!”
Mom laughed. “Tell her I say hi back.”
“Mom says hi back.”
“Your father told me to tell you that the two of you have to check in every day.”
I grimaced. “You didn’t make Andie check in every day when she was in Dublin.”
“We didn’t have to make Andie check in every day. You, however, have always got so much going on it’s a wonder we hear from you at all.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m smoking crack, Mom. I’m studying and organizing sh—stuff.”
Her tone turned sharp. “Were you going to say shit?”
“Would I, a grown woman of twenty years old, dare to curse in front of my mother?”
She harrumphed.
I sighed. “Mom, we’re not calling you every day. It’s too expensive. And I don’t have time to Skype with you every day. I’ll send emails when I can during the week and we’ll set up a Skype chat once a week, okay?”
“You don’t have to make it sound like a chore.”
“Momma, I love you. It’s not a chore. I am going to miss you too … but I’ve been gone two days. Please give me a chance to miss you.”
At her soft chuckle, I relaxed. “I’m just worried. You’re my baby and Claud is my adopted baby.”
“We’ll be fine. But we’ve got to go. It’s induction week and Claudia and I have some things we need to do before classes start. I’ll email you soon.”
“But you didn’t answer my question about food.”
“We went food shopping. Our fridge, our freezer, and our cupboards are packed full.”
“With what?”
“Food, Mom.”
“What kind of food?”
I threw an exasperated “help me” look at Claudia and she instantly cried out in mock pain.
“What was that?”
“Got to go, Mom. Claudia is going into sugar shock.” I hung up and grinned at my laughing friend. “I should switch it off before she calls back.”
We jumped as the phone buzzed in my hand but when I looked down, it read, “Andie Calling.”
“I cannot catch a break. Hello,” I answered.
“Hello to you too,” Andie said. “You’ve been gone two days. You don’t write, you don’t call …”