The Bonding Ritual (Girls Wearing Black: Book Four)

by Spencer Baum

  It couldn’t happen fast enough. Ryan wanted to be done with all of it. The obsessing, the lies, the school, Coronation. He wanted to complete the task that had consumed him for months and get on with his life.

  He sat in the front row, looking up at the safe. Jill sat next to him. Daciana entered the chapel through the back. She gave a quick greeting to the students before walking up to the safe, where she reached into the plastic globe and removed a ball.

  “Number ninety,” she said.

  Jackie O’Hanna stepped forward. Continuing the tradition started the week before, Jackie made no effort to turn the dials to the right number, but instead went straight to the handle and pulled on it, smiling at Samantha as she did so.

  Jackie returned to her seat and Daciana pulled another ball from the globe.

  “Eleven,” she said.

  Garrett Smith stood up from his spot and went to the front of the chapel. Like Jackie, he bypassed the dials and went straight to the handle.

  “This thunk’s for you,” he said to Samantha as he pulled on the door, which gave its familiar sound and remained shut.

  Garrett returned to his seat.

  “Eighty-four!” Daciana called out.

  Jacob Haltham approached the safe and failed to open it.

  “Twenty!”

  Ryan and Jill shared a glance. Twenty was the number Rosalyn had given to Jill. Sure enough, Rosalyn approached the safe from the back of the chapel. Unlike the other students, Rosalyn made a good-faith effort to open the safe. She turned the first dial to seventy-seven, the second dial to seventy-one, the third to nineteen, and the fourth to ninety-eight.

  It was clear Rosalyn had been keeping close track of the numbers Daciana had been calling all semester. Every number she entered on the safe was an actual number from the combination, but only the third number was in the correct place.

  There was a mild sense of anticipation as Rosalyn approached the handle, but like everyone else, she got the familiar thunk of a door refusing to open. As Rosalyn went back to her seat, Ryan looked up to the globe of plastic balls. Three were left. Alistair Stephens, Art Tremblay, and Ryan.

  Daciana reached into the globe again and pulled out a ball.

  “Number sixty,” she said.

  And there it was. Twelve weeks of waiting, more than ninety students before him, a semester of spying and negotiating and number crunching, and it all came down to this. Ryan stood up from his seat.

  “I’m number sixty,” he said.

  “Come forward, Mr. Jenson,” said Daciana. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  Moving slowly, deliberately, Ryan walked to the end of the pew and into the aisle. There were two stairs leading up to the altar. Bringing his left foot onto the first step, Ryan heard the numbers of the combination start churning in his mind.

  Ninety-eight, seventy-seven…

  He couldn’t finish the thought because another rushed in to take its place.

  Why are you doing this?

  He lifted his right foot up, putting his whole body on the first step, where he stood for a second, trying to clear his mind.

  Ninety-eight, seventy-seven…

  Nicky doesn’t belong with Sergio. She belongs with me!

  Where were these thoughts coming from? Why were they coming to him now? He lifted his left foot again, climbing to the second step.

  Ninety-eight, seventy—

  I love Nicky Bloom. In my dreams, we lived multiple lifetimes together. Marriage, children, growing old…it was incredible. Why was I so willing to let all of that go?

  He lifted his right foot, and now was all the way on the altar.

  “Are you moving slowly for dramatic effect?” Daciana said. “If so, it’s working.”

  A few chuckles passed through the crowd, followed by someone yelling from the rear of the chapel. “Come on, Ryan! Let’s do this!”

  He took a deep breath and reached for the first dial. He turned it to ninety-eight.

  They think they’re going to kill Sergio when he comes for her, but that’s not what’s going to happen. Sergio and Nicky are meant to be together. Sergio will be too much for them. All the vampire hunters will die and Sergio will make Nicky an immortal.

  He reached for the second dial, and slowly began spinning it towards seventy-seven.

  It’s okay though, because that’s what’s meant to be. It’s Nicky’s destiny. She and Sergio are meant to be together.

  His fingers were shaking now, but he got the dial all the way where he wanted it, with the tip of the ruby pointed at seventy-seven.

  Why does Nicky’s destiny have to be with Sergio? Why can’t it be with me?

  He reached for the third dial. He spun it to number nineteen.

  This is a mistake. She could be with me. We could be together! Jill’s friends, the deluded vampire hunters who think they can kill Sergio, they’re all going to die and they don’t have to!

  I don’t have to do this. None of us have to do this!

  His fingers were on the fourth dial now, spinning it towards seventy-one.

  Don’t do this, Ryan. This has been all wrong from the beginning. I’ve messed it all up. Nicky belongs with me, not with Sergio. Don’t do this!

  Even as he told himself to stop, Ryan’s fingers kept moving. It was like he had lost control of his body.

  Stop it! he thought. Get ahold of yourself! You’re obsessed. You’ve gone mad! This is madness! Choose the wrong number, let Nicky lose the contest, and then get her the hell out of here before it’s too late!

  The sapphire was still spinning, his fingers guiding it towards number seventy-one.

  Why can’t I stop? Why are my fingers still moving? Stop! Please, for the love of God, stop!

  His fingers guided the sapphire all the way to number seventy-one and he removed his hand from the dial.

  I’m not in control, he thought. I’m a slave, just like the servants guarding this safe.

  Against his will, his feet carried him away from the dial, and towards the handle. With the combination entered, the combination he had been rehearsing to himself all week, he grabbed onto the handle and pulled.

  Thunk.

  There was a single gasp from the audience. One person, in the front row, who was audibly surprised at what happened. Ryan turned to look at Jill, who had panic in her eyes.

  The safe hadn’t opened. Ryan entered the correct combination and the safe hadn’t opened.

  “Well, you certainly kept us all in suspense, Mr. Jenson,” Daciana said. “You may return to your seat.”

  His heart racing, Ryan went back to his seat.

  The combination he had been repeating to himself all week long was incorrect. At least one of their numbers was wrong. But which one?

  As he sat down, he looked at Jill, whose eyes seemed to anticipate his question. I don’t know they said.

  Daciana reached into the globe again and they both got their answer.

  “Number seventy-one!” she announced.

  From the back of the chapel, Art Tremblay stepped into the aisle.

  “He lied to me,” Jill whispered.

  Art walked briskly to the front of the chapel and stepped onto the altar. Leaving the first three dials of the safe exactly where Ryan had put them, he went straight to the fourth.

  The sapphire. Mary’s dial.

  He changed the number, replacing seventy-one with the very number he had given to Jill.

  Number four.

  “He knew,” Jill whispered. “He knew her number and he convinced me it was his.”

  With a big smile on his face, Art grabbed onto the handle of the safe, and pulled. There was no thunk. This time, the door clicked, and swung open.

  A huge gasp from the audience, followed by expressions of disbelief. The door to the safe was open and the stacks of gold inside gleamed in the light.

  “Well, well, well,” said Daciana, “look what we have here!”

  The audience was frantic now. What numbers did he ente
r? How did he know? Who’s getting the money?

  Ryan turned to Jill, whose eyes were looking straight ahead.

  “Zack was right,” she said quietly.

  “What? Zack?”

  “About Art,” she said. “I should have listened to him. I should have known.”

  From the altar, Daciana raised her voice to speak over the din.

  “Mr. Art Tremblay,” she said. “You find yourself in quite the enviable position. Have a look out at the audience. Find the four girls wearing black.”

  Art moved his head back and forth, slowly, his eyes making contact first with Samantha, then with Kim, then Nicky, and finally, Mary.

  The chapel was still noisy with anxious and confused students. Ryan leaned in closer to Jill.

  “What are you saying about Art?” he whispered.

  “Art is getting laid,” Jill said.

  “What?”

  “Quiet please,” Daciana said, holding up her hands. “We need it quiet in here.”

  The noise quickly faded to silence.

  “Thank you,” Daciana said. “Now, Mr. Tremblay, you have a decision to make. One of these girls will become the immortal from your class, and you get to choose which one. Are you ready?”

  “I am,” Art said.

  “Then tell us. Who is the winner of this year’s Coronation contest?”

  “The winner is the beautiful girl sitting in the back. A girl I am proud to say is the love of my life. The new immortal is Mary Torrance.”

  Chapter 41

  Jill was helpless to stop what happened next.

  “Will Mary Torrance and Nicky Bloom please join me on the altar?” Daciana said.

  Like everyone else in the chapel, Jill turned to watch as Coronation’s winner and loser left their places in the audience and walked to the front. Mary was glowing, and had people reaching out to hug her and shake her hand. Nicky was stoic, playing the role that was required of her.

  They were in uncharted territory now. In no iteration of the plan had they prepared for a moment like this. After Daciana announced the final standings, she would take Nicky away, and lead her to the Purgatory House.

  The girls lined up on either side of Daciana.

  “And then there were two,” Daciana said. “A winner and a loser. Tomorrow night, when Mary arrives at prom, she will be a member of the Samarin clan, and Nicky will sacrifice her life to honor our new immortal. In keeping with our traditions, Nicky will spend the final twenty-four hours of her life in solemn reflection at the Purgatory House. Nicky, I speak for all your classmates when I say, we thank you for your sacrifice.”

  Daciana led the students in another round of applause, which turned into a standing ovation. Jill and Ryan, in the front row of the chapel, had no choice but to join in, standing with the others to cheer for Nicky’s impending death.

  “This isn’t right,” Ryan muttered.

  “Of course it isn’t right,” said Jill. “Be cool. We’ll figure out what to do.”

  Jill’s mind was already racing with ideas. They’d look at the Purgatory House in the TPM database. They’d figure out what sort of security would be holding Nicky in place. They’d break her out of there and be on their way.

  Having left Sergio untouched.

  Standing in the front row of the chapel, listening to the other students cheer, the reality of it all began to sink in for Jill. The mission had failed. Nicky hadn’t won Coronation. Sergio wasn’t coming to the mansion.

  “Something’s totally wrong,” Ryan said.

  “Can we talk about this later?” said Jill. “I promise you, we’ll get through this. Plans don’t work out sometimes, and you have to adapt.”

  “It’s not the plan, it’s me,” Ryan said. “Something’s wrong with me.”

  His voice was shaky and weak. Turning to look at him, Jill saw that his face was pale and drenched in sweat.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been programmed, Jill.”

  The applause was beginning to die down. Daciana was about to speak again.

  “What?”

  “It explains everything. From the moment I woke up that morning in the safe house, I…”

  Daciana began speaking, silencing Ryan and the rest of the crowd with her words.

  “My friends, I will see all of you tomorrow night at prom. For those who wish to say their goodbyes, visiting hours at the Purgatory House begin tomorrow afternoon at two. Nicky, I will now escort you to your new home. The rest of you, please take some time to get to know the next immortal. You are dismissed everyone! Good night!”

  As Mary stepped down from the altar to a sea of adoring fans, Daciana took Nicky by the hand and led her out the back door of the chapel.

  *****

  “It’s over. We lost,” Jill said.

  She was riding in Ryan’s Lamborghini. They were going east on the beltway. As Ryan drove, Jill spoke on the phone with Eve.

  “The combination we had was wrong,” she said. “Art Tremblay lied to me. Mary Torrance won Coronation.”

  “Mary Torrance? Wasn’t she in last place?”

  “Nicky’s in last place now, and she’s locked up in the Purgatory House until tomorrow night. We’re going to have to figure out a way to break her loose.”

  “Doesn’t seem like that should be terribly difficult,” said Eve. “But then what?”

  “Then we all get out of town,” said Jill. “Do me a favor, will you? Find Winnie, and tell her it’s over.”

  “Winnie’s on her way to Bethesda with the other assassins,” said Eve. “Is that where you’re headed now?”

  “No,” said Jill. “Ryan and I have something we have to do. We won’t be in Bethesda for at least an hour.”

  “Expect Winnie to call you then.”

  “I will,” Jill said, then thought, I’ll have a lot to tell her.

  She ended the call with Eve just as Ryan was coming up on the exit to Highway 187.

  “Keep left,” Jill said. “We’re not going to Bethesda yet.”

  “We’re not? Where are we going?”

  “If you’ve been programmed we need to deal with that right away. Stay on the beltway. We’re going to Landover.”

  “What’s in Landover?”

  “Someone who can help us.”

  *****

  Frankie arrived at the Bloom mansion in the passenger seat of Winnie’s car. They entered through the garage. Helena Fischer greeted them in the kitchen.

  He recognized the house right away.

  The last time he was here, it was as Renata’s slave. Ten hours he spent in this house, mopping up blood and removing dead bodies. It was during that time that he saw a photo of Nicky on the wall. A photo that made all the difference in the world for him.

  “Have we heard from any of our agents yet?” Winnie asked.

  “Not yet,” said Helena. “But I expect to receive a phone call from one them within the hour.”

  They didn’t have to wait that long. The phone call came a few minutes later. Frankie stood in the living room while Winnie and Helena processed the bad news.

  “It’s unacceptable,” Winnie said. “This was our only shot at him and it’s lost!”

  “It can’t end this way,” said Helena. “It wasn’t meant to end this way. Nicky was supposed to win Coronation!”

  “We’ll never get another shot,” said Winnie. “The entire Network has leveraged all its resources for this mission. We can’t leave it unfinished.”

  “There’s been a mistake,” Helena said. “Nicky was meant to win Coronation. That’s why we stayed in town, so Nicky could win!”

  “Would you shut up about Coronation already!” Winnie snapped. “It’s over! Nicky lost! Sergio won’t be coming to this house tomorrow.”

  “Where will he be going?” asked Frankie.

  “I don’t know,” said Winnie. “Where does Mary Torrance live?”

  “Northwest Potomac,” said Helena. “Not that far from Jill. What are you thinki
ng?”

  “We can’t quit now,” said Winnie. “We only get one chance at this. If Sergio is going to Mary Torrance’s house tomorrow night, so are we.”

  “But that’s not the right house,” said Helena. “The whole point of this was to get him into this house! It would be suicide to try it somewhere else!”

  “We all have to die sometime,” Winnie said.

  *****

  It all made sense now.

  Sitting in the den of Gordon’s apartment in Landover, watching as Gordon led Ryan deep into his own mind, Jill finally understood why everyone had been so eager to stay in Potomac.

  “Say the words again, Ryan,” said Gordon. “Say them aloud and listen to where they came from.”

  “Nicky cannot leave,” Ryan said. “It is her destiny to stay at Thorndike and win the Coronation contest.”

  “Good. You are in the past, Ryan, listening to someone say those words to you. Where are you?”

  “I’m in an old house. Jill and Nicky and others are there with me. I’m in a hallway. I’m on a cot.”

  Jill felt like she was sinking, like everything she thought she knew was questionable now. How did Sergio find the safe house?

  Then she remembered a trip she and Nicky took to see the ruins of Renata’s mansion.

  Sergio must have been there. He must have followed them back.

  “Who is saying the words, Ryan?”

  “Sergio Alonzo.”

  “They are just words, aren’t they?”

  “Just words,” Ryan repeated.

  “Listen to me,” said Gordon, “and allow these words to become true in your mind. Allow them to overtake the words that Sergio said to you. Nicky can leave whenever she wants.”

  “Nicky can leave whenever she wants.”

  “Nicky gets to choose her own destiny. So do you.”

  “Yes,” Ryan said. “We all get to choose our own destiny.”

  “Sergio has no power over you.”

  Ryan nodded his head, slowly.

  “You are in control of your own thoughts and emotions, aren’t you Ryan?”

  “I am now. I wasn’t before.”

  *****

  Winnie parked on the street half a block down from the Torrance estate. She, Frankie, and Helena found a hiding place in the woods across from the house.