The Secret of Spellshadow Manor by Bella Forrest (best way to read ebooks TXT) 📕

sight of Natalie once again. He craned his neck, but the teeming mass of people was now impossible to penetrate. Panic rose in his throat, humming there like a swarm of bees.

Suddenly, Natalie slipped through the crowd, appearing quickly at his side with a look of concern on her face.

"Natalie!" Alex sighed, trying not to appear too relieved. There was no sign of a figure in rags anywhere around her. It must have been some bizarre hallucination after all.

"That poor boy!" she exclaimed anxiously. "Did you see? The big one, right there, he just threw him in."

She gestured beside them, where a fully clothed Terry floundered pathetically, presumably dumped there by Josh. His embarrassment would be all over social media within seconds, judging by the dozens of phones aiming their bright flashes at him.

Alex bent to the pool, offering Terry his hand. "Come on, I'll help you up. Just ignore these guys."

Terry clutched at him, trembling a little, and ended up half-soaking Alex, too. He hauled the bedraggled boy out of the pool, sitting him down away from the thinning crowd.

He stood up, and while Natalie made sure Terry was okay, he found himself looking around again for the apparition to make sure it hadn’t reappeared. It hadn’t, but the experience had left a queasy feeling in Alex’s stomach he couldn’t shake. What had caused the hallucination?

They’d been at the party for over two hours, and now that Terry had managed to soak his clothes, Alex figured he had a legitimate excuse to suggest they head back now.

He’d expected Natalie to be disappointed by the prospect, but as she turned away from Terry to face him, her face was traced with exhaustion—a stark contrast to the bright, well-rested girl he’d arrived with.

“Shall we leave now?” she suggested. “I’m tired.”

“Yes,” Alex replied, already leading her back to the house. “Let’s leave.”

Chapter 4

Natalie stayed in her room for almost the entire next day, chilling and trying to fight off jet lag, presumably. Alex’s mom thought it was a wise use of the rest of the weekend and hoped she’d feel fresh for school on Monday.

Alex slept in later than usual too, and then took the opportunity to catch up on his homework and spend some time on his business. The apparition at the party still bothered him, but he figured that, whatever it was, it was unlikely to happen again so he should just forget about it.

On Monday morning, Natalie was looking sprightly again. He drove her to school and guided her to the reception, where he left her to have a meeting with the school’s exchange program liaison.

Then he made his way to the classroom where his first lesson of the day—history—was due to be held, and found it empty. He sat down and pulled out a book on marketing, which he read while students trickled in, until Colin sat down next to him and started telling him about a surprise weekend camping trip his parents had taken him on.

When their teacher Mrs. Lambert arrived, she was followed by Natalie, who waved at him.

And then the gray thing in rags stepped in behind her.

Alex almost choked on his tongue.

It was the same as before. Its skin was still sickly gray beneath the bright, fluorescent glare, the rags hanging off it yellowing and frayed, fluttering in an unseen wind. Alex’s eyes bulged as the claw-like hand raked slowly through the air, reaching for Natalie, clasping for the back of her head.

This can’t be happening.

He glanced quickly around, but once again, nobody else seemed to notice anything was wrong, and the thing in rags slid into the room after Natalie. Mrs. Lambert tied her graying shoulder-length hair back in a ponytail, introduced Natalie to the class, and then grabbed a marker. Alex gaped as she calmly wrote out the day’s lesson plan on the whiteboard, then quickly looked back to see the thing shuffling along in Natalie’s wake, following her to an open desk before hunching to whisper in her ear.

Somehow, seeing this creature here, in a perfectly ordinary classroom he visited every day, right in front of Mrs. Lambert, unnerved him even more than seeing it at the party. He must be out of his mind. Hallucinating—definitely, yes, but why was his hallucination so…specific? So focused on Natalie?

Mrs. Lambert began the lesson, oblivious to the corpse-like figure whispering into her pupil’s ear. Alex, mind whirling, did his best to follow her lecture, but couldn’t refrain from shooting his eyes over to Natalie every few seconds.

The thing didn’t move much, save for its lips. It crouched now, rags spilling out around its feet like a pool of gray liquid, jagged hands grasping the sides of Natalie’s desk. It was whispering incessantly, almost feverishly, into Natalie’s ear, and caressing the desk as it spoke.

“Alex?”

Alex blinked, looking up. Mrs. Lambert was smiling at him expectantly, her marker held between two fingers.

“Yes?”

She looked a little surprised. “I was just asking,” she said, “if you could explain to the class what the Hobbesian state of nature is?”

In the corner of Alex’s eye, the thing’s lips were fluttering as it whispered, as distracting as the buzzing of a fly. He answered Mrs. Lambert absentmindedly, his attention on the apparition.

“Hobbesian…yes.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying not to look at Natalie. “Ah, philosopher Thomas Hobbes deduced in the seventeenth century that man’s natural state is one of equality, but believed this equality to take the form of…of continuous warfare. Since man is naturally pitted against his fellows, Hobbes argued in favor of embracing a strong sovereign, with absolute…power”—he cut his eyes at the ragged thing—“seeing this as the only possible way to avoid constant bloodshed and, um, civil war. Though it seems extreme, one must remember that he wrote Leviathan, in which this theory is expressed, during…during the English Civil War, a particularly bloody time in England’s history.”

Mrs. Lambert beamed. “Excellent, Alex. Very well put. Would anyone like to expand on Alex’s