Chapter Twenty
NOLAN LIVED in a private rented house, sharing with two other boys, rather than staying in the residential halls, which were mostly reserved for first years. It was a detached house in what seemed to be an expensive, quiet residential street. Their neighbours must love the owners of the building for giving them a houseful of noisy students, along with all the friends who were invited to their parties.
Elliot sat in his car and watched the boys eating dinner together in their dining room. It looked as if they were having a lively conversation, helped by bottles of beer, although Nolan seemed the quietest of them, once again not really looking as if he fitted in, his handsome face at odds with his awkward behaviour. Perhaps he just didn’t like university and was thinking about leaving. For all Elliot really knew about him, Nolan could want to retreat from the world and become a hermit.
Elliot wished he had had the sense to bring a novel or Uni work with him as Farlden had ignored him for most of the evening, sitting in the back of the car at the moment with his sketchpad out and, in the passenger seat beside Elliot, Barve seemed oddly flustered.
“I expect you’ve dated a lot of people,” Barve said, out of the blue.
“A few,” Elliot said. He had been involved three times with girls and once with a boy, although the latter had been a secret, not so much because he was afraid to come out of the closet as because the relationship wasn’t a serious one, so telling everyone he was bisexual had seemed like too much difficulty to go through for something he had known wouldn’t last. “I’m not a Casanova or anything.”
“No, of course not,” Barve said with feeling.
“Have you two been involved with many people?” It was a more interesting conversation than they’d had so far on the stakeout and he became more attentive at the thought of finding out something private about the two brothers.
“Er, none actually,” Barve said. “I like boys but it was difficult meeting anyone who liked me back.”
“He’s just picky,” Farlden said from behind them.
“And what about you?” Elliot twisted round in his seat to look back at Farlden, who was sitting sideways, feet up on the next seat, sketchpad resting on muscular thighs.
“I dated a girl, a distant cousin, for about a year but it was never all that serious for either of us,” Farlden said, face a mass of shadows and eyes looking black beneath his heavy brow ridge. I think she was relieved when I came here so she could look around for someone else.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” Elliot tried to imagine what Farlden would be like in a relationship. He wouldn’t make bad-tempered comments to someone he fancied, surely, but if he wasn’t being insulting, what would he have left to say?
“They’ve finished dinner,” Barve said.
Elliot glanced vaguely at the house, not really bothered unless Nolan was finally going to do something interesting. Turning back to the Neans, he said, “So what sort of person do you both go for?”
Barve stared at him for a long moment. “Er, someone smart and attractive and interesting.”
Elliot tried not to roll his eyes: that could describe anyone. “Farlden?”
“Dunno.”
Elliot twisted round again. “You must have some idea. Do you prefer someone strong-willed or quiet? Easy-going or adventurous?”
Farlden didn’t look up from his sketchbook. “Strong-willed and adventurous, I guess.”
Huh. That said something about him and narrowed the field. He tried to think who could match that description. “Do you like Callie?”
“Hadn’t thought about it.”
“What about you?” Barve asked. “What would your ideal date be like?”
Elliot considered the question. “I like people with strong opinions who challenge the way I think about things. A fiery temperament is exciting. I...” He broke off at the sign of movement by the door of the house. “Nolan’s coming outside. Quick, pretend we’re just sitting talking and not watching him.”
“We were,” Farlden pointed out, still working on his picture.
Elliot ignored him and hastily turned to Barve, who looked back with a look of pain in his dark eyes. Had Elliot somehow missed the fact that something was bothering him? “Is everything okay?”
“Of course.”
Nolan passed them and, seeing that Barve wasn’t going to share whatever was on his mind, Elliot said, “We’d better follow him on foot.”
He got out of the car, shivering at the blast of cold air, and Barve followed suit. Farlden dumped his sketchbook on the seat beside him, climbed out and stretched, the movement highlighting strong shoulders and making his jumper ride up and reveal the bare skin beneath.
“Come on,” Elliot said, breath forming a white mist, as he quickly turned away and began to follow Nolan.
“We’d better not get too close or he’ll see us,” Farlden said, putting a hand on his arm to stop him, “and then he’ll know something’s going on when he also spots us on the walk back here.”
“Fair point,” Elliot said, glad to just be doing something instead of sitting still. As Farlden dropped his hand, Elliot glanced over at Barve, wondering if he was okay.
They waited an extra minute then set out after the tall, slender figure of Nolan. The streetlamps provided illumination but also left large patches of darkness, the pale moon above them only the tiniest sliver, so Elliot had to watch Nolan closely to avoid losing sight of him.
After a few more minutes had passed, Elliot said, “He looks as if he’s heading for the campus.”
“If he’s returning books at this time of night then the librarians are really dedicated,” Farlden said, arm bumping against Elliot’s as they walked.
“No, look, he’s going to one of the other halls of residence. Perhaps he is buying drugs.”
They followed Nolan as he turned off the main road, but their progress was abruptly stopped when a handful of young men, who had been walking along the pavement towards them, deliberately got in the way. There were seven of them and their expressions were grim.
“I hate Neans,” one of them said and shoved Barve, who staggered back, Elliot catching and steadying him, unnerved by the danger that had appeared from out of nowhere.
“We’re not fond of you either,” Farlden said, stepping forward to face the older boy, whose mates were drifting closer, looking ready for a fight. They looked as if they were in their early twenties and Elliot caught the smell of alcohol from them.
He had to find a way to stop this now before it became violent, Elliot thought, but his mind was half-paralysed by what was happening and he had no idea what to do.
Another boy grabbed Barve’s arm and the one who had spoken aimed a punch at Farlden, who ducked away just in time.
Elliot looked round for help but the only people on the street were too far away and, anyway, they might well take the other boys’ side.
“I’ll teach you not to answer a Sapiens back,” the first boy told Farlden, grabbing a handful of his jacket, raised hand closing into a fist.
Elliot finally had an idea and pulled the mobile from his jeans pocket, nearly dropping it with fingers made clumsy from the cold. He pretended to punch in three numbers and raised it to his ear. “Yes, police,” he said loudly. “There’s a fight going on that you need to break up.”
One of the boys swore and backed away. The seconds ticked by as Elliot waited to see what the leader would do. If he called Elliot’s bluff then they were in a scary amount of trouble. He told the imaginary officer the name of the street they were on, eyes locked with those of the older bully.
The man abruptly let go of Farlden and, after exchanging glances, the group took off, striding away.
Elliot put his mobile away with shaky hands as Farlden nodded to him. “That was quick thinking.”
“It was better than provoking them like you did.” Residual fear made him sound more hostile than he had intended and Farlden’s expression became shuttered.
“Let’s get inside before they come back,” Barve suggested.
“Yeah,” Farlden said, turning away from Elliot.
But they were too late. Nolan had already entered the building and, without keys or friends to let them in, they had no way to follow him.
“Damn.” Elliot stared helplessly at the building as the cold night air began to soak into him. “I suppose there are far too many people inside for us to be able to read Nolan’s mind from here and see what he’s doing?”
“I don’t know,” Farlden said as they hovered in front of the door, where anyone else could come and pick a fight with them. “We’ve seen his mind once so it might be familiar enough to find. Worth a try.”
“All right.” Elliot was still on edge as he closed his eyes but, as the magic took over, brushing over the minds of dozens of students to find one it knew, the confrontation vanished from his mind. There. He could see a messy room with rock posters on the walls, clothes scattered about, make-up and books. There was no one else here so why would Nolan be in the room? Elliot got a glimpse of reflection in a mirror and sighed, pulling away and opening his eyes.
“What happened? Who was that?” Farlden asked, brow furrowed.
“Lila. Someone from one of my classes. I wanted to find someone familiar and I did – sorry.”
“At least, your magic did what we wanted, even if it latched onto the wrong person. Try again.”
“Okay.” He glanced behind him, scanning the shadows, then looked back at the door. He closed his eyes and, after more searching, his magic led him to another room. There was a teenage boy there wearing glasses and he was seeing through the eyes of someone wearing masculine clothes, which was progress. He tried to find another mirror but couldn’t see one.
The two boys were talking eagerly, mentioning something that might have been the name of a TV show or book. Boosted by Farlden’s magic, he got a sense of friendship from the mind he was touching, that these teenagers had known each other for some time and were relaxed around each other. The boy Nolan was speaking to was plain-faced and had acne but Nolan felt at ease with him in a way he hadn’t with the more attractive and well-dressed groups he’d mixed with before. The vision wasn’t as clear as when they had looked into Nolan’s mind before, the buzz of other minds and memories getting in the way, like different channels on a TV set.
Elliot wanted to know more but it was difficult to focus and he was getting a sharp pain behind his eyes, so he ended the connection, pulling back to the world around him. He rubbed his temples.
“Are you all right?” Barve asked, studying him.
“Yes. Just a headache.” He was freezing cold too, although that was hardly surprising.
“Did you get a headache the last time you used magic?”
“A bit but not this bad.”
“We tried to do too much with the magic,” Farlden said, frowning.
“Maybe, but it’s good to find out what we’re capable of.” The image had been the most detailed one he’d experienced, with none of the blurriness or blank parts caused by fading memory. “We managed to see something current, which I haven’t done before, and to find one particular person in a crowd. At least, I think so. I mean, I’m not positive that that was Nolan.”
“I think it was.” Farlden looked up at the lit windows. “If it was, he was just hanging out with a friend, so it doesn’t tell us anything helpful.”
Elliot felt as if he was missing something but the image was fading and his head really hurt.
“Come on.” Farlden put a hand lightly on his back, the sensation of the touch lingering after it was removed. “We can’t do any more and it’s not safe hanging around here. We should return to the car.”
He agreed at once but the sense of danger persisted until they were back inside their own residential hall. Elliot had never had enemies before but the thugs they had encountered could have been anyone – at least half the people around them every day hated Barve and Farlden just for being Neans and there was nothing he could do to change that.