The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection by L. J. Smith Page A

like sunlight. Or moonlight, when the moon is full and so dazzling you can read by it.
    It was her .
    The girl, the girl from the yellow house, the girl with the shining hair. Utterly dumbfounded, Cassie stared as if seeing her for the first time.
    She was almost as tall as Faye, but unlike Faye in every other respect. Where Faye was voluptuous, she was slender; where Faye was dressed in red, she was dressed in white. Instead of a wild black mane like Faye’s, her hair was long and straight and shimmering—the color of the light streaming in the window.
    And of course she was beautiful, even more beautiful this close than she had been at a distance. But it was a beauty so different from Faye’s it was hard to think of it as the same thing. Faye’s beauty was stunning but scary. Her strange golden eyes were fascinating, but they also made you want to run away.
    This girl looked like something from a stained-glass window. For the first time Cassie saw her eyes, and they were green and clear, brilliant, as if light were behind them. Her cheeks were faintly flushed with rose, but it was natural color, not makeup.
    Her breast was heaving with indignation, and her voice, though clear and musical, was filled with anger.
    “When Tina told me she’d delivered that note for you, I knew there was something going on,” she said. “But this is unbelievable. For the last time, Deborah, let her go!”
    Slowly, reluctantly, the grip on Cassie’s arms loosened.
    “Look at this . . . you could have hurt her,” the fair-haired girl raged on. She had a Kleenex out and was wiping ash—and tears—off Cassie’s cheeks. “Are you all right?” she asked, her tone gentling.
    Cassie could only look at her. The shining girl had come to rescue her. It was like something out of a dream.
    “She’s frightened to death,” the girl said, turning on Faye. “How could you, Faye? How could you be so cruel?”
    “It just comes naturally,” Faye murmured. Her eyes were hooded, sullen. As sullen as Deborah’s face.
    “And you, Suzan—I’m surprised at you. Don’t you see how wrong it is?”
    Suzan mumbled something, looking away.
    “And why would you want to hurt her? Who is she?” She had a protective arm around Cassie now as she looked from one of the senior girls to another. None of them answered.
    “I’m Cassie,” Cassie said. Her voice wobbled at the end, and she tried to steady it. All she could feel was the girl’s arm around her shoulder. “Cassie Blake,” she managed to finish. “I just moved here a couple of weeks ago. Mrs. Howard is my grandmother.”
    The girl looked startled. “Mrs. Howard? At Number Twelve? And you’re living with her?”
    Fear darted through Cassie. She remembered Jeffrey’s reaction to hearing where she lived. She would die if this girl responded the same way. Wretchedly, she nodded.
    The fair-haired girl whirled back on Faye. “Then she’s one of us! A neighbor ,” she added sharply as Faye’s eyebrows shot up.
    “Oh, hardly,” Faye said.
    “She’s only half—” Suzan began.
    “Shut up!” said Deborah.
    “She’s a neighbor,” the fair-haired girl repeated stubbornly. She looked at Cassie. “I’m sorry; I didn’t know you’d moved in. If I had ”—she threw an angry glance at Faye—“I’d have stopped by. I live down at the bottom of Crowhaven Road, Number One.” She gave Cassie another protective squeeze. “Come on. If you want, I’ll take you home now.”
    Cassie nodded. She would have happily followed if the girl had told her to jump out a window.
    “I forgot to introduce myself,” the girl said, stopping on the way to the stairs. “My name’s Diana.”
    “I know.”

    Diana had a blue Acura Integra. She stopped in front of it and asked Cassie if she wanted to get anything from her locker.
    With a shudder, Cassie shook her head.
    “Why not?”
    Cassie hesitated. Then told her. Everything.
    Diana listened, arms folded, toe tapping with increasing speed as the