Grey

Book One of the Romany Outcasts Series

CHRISTI J. WHITNEY

HarperVoyager

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street,

London SE1 9GF

www.harpervoyagerbooks.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2015

Copyright © Christi J. Whitney 2015

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015.

Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com

Christi J. Whitney asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 978-0-00-811358-2

Version: 2015-04-02

To the E.H.S.T.S.

You know who you are

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1. Dreams and Waking

2. Hope and Fear

3. Lost and Found

4. Rise and Fall

5. Sink or Swim

6. Sighted or Blind

7. Fire and Ice

8. Fight or Flight

9. Darkness and Light

10. Sanity and Madness

11. Drought and Rain

12. Betrayal or Trust

13. Day or Night

14. To Be or Not To Be

15. Free or Bound

16. Calm and Panic

17. Turbulence and Tranquility

18. Smoke and Mirrors

19. Words or Actions

20. Everything and Nothing

21. Heaven and Hell

22. Faith or Futility

23. Demons or Angels

24. Alive or Dead

25. Reluctance and Surrender

26. Mended and Torn

27. Flesh and Stone

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

‘Sebastian!’

I hear my name, but I can’t answer. I’m trapped by the image in my head.

It flashes again.

Rainbow-scorched leaves. Gypsy music.

Caravans of faded paint.

‘Sebastian Grey!’

Dark and nothing.

I struggled for words. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Are you joining this group or not? I need to get a list…’

Another flash.

Bonfires. Starless night.

A girl dancing. Ribbons in her hair.

‘For the last time, Mr Grey, wake up!’

My mind ripped free. I jolted, launching papers into orbit. For a split second, I wasn’t convinced of my surroundings. Then, as fluorescent lights bored through my skull, it hit me.

I was in the middle of class.

And twenty-five pairs of eyes were staring straight at me.

All my school supplies littered the floor – textbooks, papers, colored index cards. Everything except the pencil that I’d somehow snapped between my fingers. I coughed and hunkered in my seat. Across the aisle, Avery leaned sideways in his desk, giving me the look I’d seen way too many times: the one that questioned my sanity.

‘Crap,’ I whispered.

I’d done it again.

Mr Weir moved closer. He glowered at me from under spidery eyebrows. I prepared myself for the tirade. But just as he took a wheezing breath, the bell rang. I shrugged and gave him my best smile as the room reverberated with slamming books and screeching chairs.

Mr Weir grunted and waddled back to his desk, my outburst promptly dismissed as more important matters – like the end of the school day – took precedence. I dropped to one knee and recovered my textbook.

‘Hey, Sebastian, you okay?’ Avery towered over me. ‘What just happened there?’

I blinked away the lingering haze. ‘It appears I must have dozed off.’

‘Seriously, man,’ said Avery, his brows shooting up. ‘Who talks like that?’ He knelt and picked up one of my library books, examining it with a shake of his head. ‘I swear, sometimes I think you read way too many old books. They’re messing with your head.’

I snatched it out of his hands. ‘I don’t read old books.’

‘You read Shakespeare.’

‘That’s different.’

Avery laughed, shoving papers at me. ‘Sure it is.’

I stuffed them in my bag, taking care to hide my tattered copy of Hamlet from Avery’s prying eyes. We squeezed into the crowded hall, avoiding locker doors banging open and shut around us.

‘You never answered my question, you know,’ Avery continued.

‘I realize that.’

We strolled in companionable silence down the hallway. Okay, maybe I was the one who was silent. Avery Johnson – senior superlative and social giant – had something to say to everybody we passed. At the end of the corridor, he stopped.

‘Okay, what was it this time?’

‘Nothing,’ I replied. ‘I fell asleep.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Avery said in an amused huff. ‘That wasn’t a nap. That was a complete zone out. Same as this morning in gym, when you stood there like a zombie until Alex Graham smacked you in the face with the ball.’