“Lack of self-control? Mother, she made a mistake. A stupid mistake that anyone her age could have made.”
“Then why didn’t anyone else make it? Sincere Endicott is not with child.”
“Sincere Endicott. Sometimes, I think you wish she were your granddaughter.”
“She would certainly carry the Thorndike name better than our own Abigail.”
“Mother!”
“If Abby is going to lead our sisterhood, she needs to be an exemplar, and I’m afraid she does not qualify. You were wild in your youth and yet you never faltered in such a way.”
“It’s a new generation…”
“And what are we to tell Abigail’s future husband? His parents?”
“I’m certain they would understand.”
“Would they? When the heiress doesn’t even carry their blood, they might become nervous. And in any case, a marriage without a blood-linked sacrifice…” Hester didn’t continue that thought, but Constance could follow it easily. Abby would never be a full member of the Daughters if she wasn’t able to deliver the father of her daughter to Yidhra.
“What then, mother? You just want to groom Sincere?”
“She is the best choice we have. I think she’s a remarkable young woman.”
“I don’t know, mother. She seemed frightened at her initiation.”
“They all do. You were ready to jump out of your skin”
“Abby is going to be stronger than I ever was. Maybe even you.”
“How can you say that?”
“She is learning what it means to lose everything and she has not yet given up. She goes to that school every single day, a school where she should be queen but is instead mocked and ridiculed. She has never been an outsider in her life and now she has that experience.”
“Constance, one of the reasons we survive is that we are not outsiders. Can you imagine if the world ever took a close look in our direction?”
“Yes, but Abby knows this. She understands what would be at stake if the Daughters were ever exposed.”
Hester paused. Constance didn’t know what was happening. Had she actually made a point strong enough to make the old woman alter a decision?
Finally, Hester said, “Then let Abigail prove it. We might still be able to salvage some kind of marriage for her, but that is for the future. We must show the others that the blood of the Iron Maiden has not run thin. And, if Abigail fails,” she did not say when, though Constance heard it, “we will allow Sincere to ascend in her place.”
75
Contact with the Enemy
‘bryce and Nate walked along the path that lead to the north end of Knowles Park, the same park where Bryce had been jumped by Eleazar and his friends just a few weeks ago. The park was not well-lit, but Bryce still walked with the invincible stroll of the entitled class. Nate, however, had grown up wary of shadows and dark corners. He remained on alert.
Delilah had texted Bryce that she’d meet them at the Duckworth bench. Nate had sighed at that. The wealthy constituents of Arkham would not be satisfied until they had stamped their legacy across every public fixture in the city.
The bench was in view and Nate could see someone sitting on it. He thought he remembered a light near the bench but he couldn’t recall. Bryce had spotted it as well. He started moving faster and Nate cursed under his breath. Something about this whole thing didn’t feel right and Bryce was diving in headfirst.
Nate stared at the shape on the bench. It was not a petite shadow, but Delilah was not a petite girl and the angle of their approach provided little chance for the light to outline her signature curves. There was no reason to think anything was wrong but Nate felt a tingling itch on his neck and back. It was like when he’d snuck into Abby’s house on Halloween.
As Bryce raised his hand and prepared to call out to Delilah, Nate grabbed his wrist. Bryce turned and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. They might be something approaching friends but they hadn’t gotten to the point where Bryce was going to tolerate the “lawn boy” putting hands on him.
Nate forced himself to make an apologetic face and then put a finger to his lips. Bryce yanked his arm back but complied. The two of them crept forward at an angle, trying to circle the bench. As they swung around to the side, he saw that it was indeed Delilah Cutter. Her head hung limply to the side.
“Oh no,” Nate said and ran forward with Bryce on his heels. They reached the bench, stopping short when they got a clear look at her.
She had been beaten. Her face was bruised and puffy. There was blood congealed around her nose and mouth. There were claw-like scratches on her neck and chest, and one of her eyes was completely swollen shut. Her arms were tied up behind her back.
“Jesus Christ, Del…” Bryce stood over her helplessly. He sat down beside her to attack her ropes. “Give me a hand with her, Nate!”
Nate didn’t move. He was looking all around. Whoever had done this hadn’t gone far.
“Goddammit, I said help me!”
Delilah started coughing and awoke with a start and scream. Bryce let her freak out for a second before he shushed her. She settled as she finally saw him.
“Bryce? Bryce… Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Del. Just fine. See? I’m right here with you.” He stroked her hair. “We’re going to get you help. We’re going to take care of you. But you need to tell me who did this to you.”
Delilah shook her head. “It’s not me they were after. They were just mad I warned you.”
A cold shiver ran through Nate. This wasn’t good. He kept scanning left and right. They needed to get out of here. Bryce pulled his cell out of his pocket. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling the cops, Nate; what the hell do you think?”
Nate finally saw people coming up the path. They weren’t even trying to hide. “You can put the phone away, Bryce,” he said. “The cops are already here.” He placed himself between the bench and the approaching group. “Good evening, Chief Stone.”
The tall, sandy-haired man was in full uniform. His wide shoulders were squared back and his face was shadowed by his hat. “Evening, son. Looks like you got yourself a bit of a problem.” The others following him came into view. Ophelia and Charity were at the head of the pack. They looked dressed for a party, not for a nighttime meeting in a park. Behind them, he saw the servants of families like the Thorndikes, the Endicotts, the Knowleses, the Duckworths…
Nate gestured Bryce back as the other boy started to rise from the bench. He raised his hands slightly—not fully extended, just enough to show he wasn’t a threat. “No problem, Chief. Just helping out the lady here.”
Chief Stone tipped his hat up with his finger. “Are you getting lippy with me, boy?”
“No sir, wouldn’t think of it. My friend here is really hurt. She could use medical attention.”
Ophelia stepped past Chief Stone. “Shut up, you grubby little wetback. You don’t have any friends here.”
Nate’s fists clenched. He stepped forward. Chief Stone’s hand flew to his side. He drew his pistol, aiming it square at Nate’s forehead.
“I don’t need a reason. You understand me, boy? Now get your hands back where I can see them.”
Nate choked down a response, remembering what his mother had drilled into him since he was small. Be polite. Lower your eyes. Be respectful. Better to take a beating than a bullet.
In the moonlight, Ophelia’s soft, pretty face was lit with evil. “That’s a good boy.” She grinned and stroked the barrel of the police chief’s pistol. “I’m awfully sorry for things to go this way. But it’s Bryce’s fault, really. He couldn’t get with the program. Decided he could defy the Daughters… and I’m afraid that’s something we can’t allow to stand.”
Delilah was clutching at Bryce’s shirt. “I’m sorry, Bryce. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I just can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?” Ophelia strolled forward, pulling her phone out of her pu
rse. “If you’re not slumming around with that Thorndike trash, you’re conspiring with this slut here.” She hit a button on her phone.
“What do you know about the Daughters?” It was Bryce’s voice on the speaker.
Bryce moved up next to Nate. Ophelia wagged a finger and gestured at Chief Stone. He kept his gun trained on the boys.
“I know that they don’t like that you’ve been sticking your nose into their business. I don’t know what it is that you’re doing, I just thought you should know that Sindy and her crew don’t like it, and if you keep it up, they said they’re going to do something to you.”
The servants fanned out, surrounding Nate and Bryce.
“Why are you telling me this, Del? You are her crew. What happened to, ‘Above all else, sisterhood?’”
Ophelia shook her head and tutted, still holding out her phone for all to hear. Delilah had curled up, covering her ears. Charity beamed and preened, leaning on one of the other boys.
“They’re not my sisters, Bryce. You just watch that cute ass of yours. I’d hate to see something bad happen to it.”
Ophelia tucked her phone away back in her clutch purse and smiled into Bryce’s face. “Bet you’re sorry you left me alone in your room now, aren’t you, Bryce? Too bad you’re not as smart as you are pretty.”
Bryce looked down at her. “Oh yeah, well, you’re going to die fat and unmarried while you wrestle your mother for the last donut.”
Ophelia punched Bryce in the crotch. The motion was so fast that Nate barely saw it. Bryce doubled over with a groan as Ophelia looked down at him with satisfaction. “I did warn you.”
Nate went to help Bryce up, but Chief Stone shook his head and gestured with his pistol. Nate sighed and put his hands up. “So what now? You can’t cover this up forever. You can’t just get rid of us like you get rid of the fathers.”
Charity and Ophelia laughed. “Oh dear, you really have no idea do you?” Charity said. She locked eyes with Nate, running a perfectly manicured fingernail over her full lips. She slinked toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stepped close. He could smell her hair and the clean, vanilla tang of her skin. She was just a few inches shorter than him, one of the few girls in school who was. She ruffled the back of his hair with her fingers. “We don’t get rid of them, sweetie.”
She leaned even closer, almost brushing her lips against Nate’s. “We kill them.”
Her tongue snaked out and licked at his mouth.
“And then we eat them.”
76
The Middle of the Night
‘wake up. Sincere, wake up.”
It was her mother.
Sindy blinked, and her room swam into focus. It was all dark shapes, devoid of any identifying features, an alien and general place rather than the comfort of home. Outside, the moon shone down on the rustling trees. “What? What’s going on? Mom?”
“I need you to get up. Put on your best dress.”
“Mom? What’s going on? What time is it?”
“Three AM. Hester Thorndike wants to see you.”
That statement alone was like a bucket of ice water thrown into her bed. She sat up and nearly head-butted her mother. “What about? Why?”
Faith shook her head. Sindy pictured the church in the woods, where the Daughters gathered for their rites. Had Hester sensed her doubts? No. I’m loyal, Sindy thought as she threw the covers aside and got out of bed. Her mother left her alone to dress.
She’d had a few doubts, doubts that were getting harder and harder to remember every day. As terrifying, as disgusting, as wrong as the ritual had been, it was over now. Sindy could not deny that there had been power in it. Power that, at least in part, belonged to her. She could not even begin to imagine the sort of might that Hester wielded.
She knew that if she stayed the course, Hester’s power would one day be hers.
Sindy got dressed quickly, brushed out her hair, and went without makeup. She almost started downstairs before she remembered to go back to her vanity and to pick up the pin she had set there. She looked at herself in the mirror as she attached the ancient symbol of the Daughters of Arkham to her dress. There seemed to be a ripple in the mirror as the pin snapped into place. She was ready now.
Her mother was waiting for her in the front hall but Abelard was not with her. Sindy found that odd. The old servant was always lurking directly behind Faith.
“You look lovely,” Faith Endicott said. She looked pale and ghastly in the moonlight.
“Than—” A knock at the door cut Sindy off.
Faith opened the door, revealing Eleazar Grant. His monstrous face was expressionless as his shadow moved about on the porch independent of him. Sindy shuddered.
“You look beautiful, Sindy,” He waited for her to walk past, and she shivered again, wondering when… or if… that feeling would go away.
A brand new Lexus was parked outside. He opened the rear door for her and shut it behind her, before making his way around to the other side. He drove in the direction of Harwich Hall.
Sindy fought the fear boiling within her. The Daughters must have known that she was having doubts. She needed to reassure them that she was loyal. She wanted to plead her case. The only way to save her friendship with Abby and secure her own future was to solidify her position with the Daughters.
She could barely be still on the short drive to Abby’s house. It was strange thinking of it that way—Abby’s house—when Harwich Hall was so much more. It was the visible seat of the Daughters of Arkham. As it loomed up ahead, and the gate parted for the car, Sindy felt the ice around her heart harden.
Hester Thorndike was waiting for her when they pulled up. She dressed for an evening out, her pin still ever-present and visible on her lapel. A shawl around her shoulders was her only concession to the night air. She held her cane, but she was not quite leaning on it, the way she had before the ritual. Her expression was neutral. On Hester, that registered as cold disapproval.
Eleazar stopped the car, and Sindy waited for him to open the door. It unnerved her how quickly she had adapted to this basic level of doting.
“Sincere,” Hester said, her severe face creaking into a smile. “I am so glad you could join me.”
As if Sindy had a choice in the matter. Whatever Hester wanted, Hester got. Sindy had been conscious of the slight class difference between the Thorndikes and Endicotts for years, though it took her admission into the Daughters to see how vast that gulf actually was.
“I’m happy to be here.”
“We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Come.”
The house was thick with sleep, dark and gloomy. She wondered if Abby was upstairs, sleeping. She had to be. Such a weird feeling, prowling through her best friend’s home in the dark.
Best friend. Funny how that reflexive label had not changed even though she hadn’t spoken to Abby since she had taken her first steps into the secret society. She wondered if this was it for Abby, if she was going to be relegated to the status of family shame. All because of whatever happened on the night of the carnival… Sindy didn’t like to think of that night. Her own memories didn’t make much sense, and by the time she’d had the strength to share them, there were too many roadblocks, too many mysteries, too many questions that needed answering.
Now, the fruits of that night were ready to be born.
That would all change when Sindy was in charge of the Daughters. If they were grooming Sindy, and that certainly seemed to be the case, there was no reason not to use her power to lift the stigma on Abby and bring her back into the fold. Together they could run the Daughters and through the society, the town at large. It felt like destiny.
As they walked through Harwich Hall, into the cellar, and from there, to the secret door and the tunnel, Sindy felt more and more at peace. They were going to the church, and while what happened there was undeniably horrible, it was also a place of power. She no longer sensed danger from Hester. Power, yes, but not directed at Sindy.
“Tell me, Sincere. Have you spoken with Abigail?”
“No, Ms. Thorndike. I’d never reveal our secrets to… to an outsider.”
Hester chuckled. “That is lovely to hear, but not what I meant. I was speaking of her condition.”
“Condition?” Right, the grandma version of ‘knocked up.’ “What about it?”
“Why do you think she did it?”
“Did it? I don’t think she did anything. I think it was an accident.”
“There are no accidents. There is only laziness or intent. Neither of which is a suitable trait for a Daughter of Arkham.”
“Well, what about forgiveness?” Sindy said with more force than she intended. “Abby can’t be the first of us to make a mistake. There has to be way make this right.”
Hester was silent. They emerged from the passageway and heading up the short slope toward the church. Sindy could barely see it in the slivery shafts of moonlight coming through the trees.
“I really believe that whatever happened is in the past and that she’s learned from it. She’s ready to join us. And believe me, she’ll appreciate it more and work harder because of her situation.”
Hester paused. They had arrived on the front steps of the church. She placed a withered, bony hand on Sindy’s shoulder. “You are a good friend to Abigail, and you have to know that this situation breaks my heart. She is my granddaughter. My own blood. I would like nothing more than to welcome her into the Daughters of Arkham. That is why I called you here tonight. There is a small chance. But it must be done in a way that is above reproach. We cannot give the others any room to deny her.”
Hester went on: “All fathers have to be sacrificed to the Mother of All Daughters, body and soul. If Abigail truly wishes to join us, she must perform the ritual… whether she is ready or not.”
Sindy heard footsteps coming out of the woods. Shapes moved in the moonlight. The silhouettes combined and separated, making the advancing group look like a single ever-changing blob. Ice gripped Sindy again. She was not afraid for herself, but for whatever that group was bringing through the dark.
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