I wish for light. For some kind of strobe to land on Sabine, so I can read the grief on her face and see if it matches mine. Because all I hear from her is … cold.
“It’s what I’m asking of you, as my newest initiate. I’m asking you to see me as a mother figure—never to replace yours, mind you, but as someone you can come to and trust. In return, I’d like to treat you like a daughter. Like all my girls.”
Bile sloshes deep in my belly. “I’m not sure I need that.”
“Maybe ‘ask’ is too loose of a word,” Sabine continues, her voice nothing but languid charm. “If you want the privilege of Virtuous protection, the marker of prestige, you will listen to me.”
I force down the growing thorns in my throat. “I’ve submitted to your trials, done everything you’ve wanted so far.”
“Yes, but have you bent to my will? I do not think so. Chase Stone.” Sabine murmurs his name with a serpentine tongue. “You are not to see him. Under any circumstance. Not for academic reasons, or extracurriculars, and certainly not in bed.”
My back smacks against the chair. “I haven’t spoken to him. Since our meeting in the temple, I haven’t—”
“Do not lie to me, dear girl.”
Sabine’s tone is soft, almost soothing in its allure—if you’re not the prey meant for a feline predator.
An exhale whistles through my lips. “He was beaten up and humiliated for going against the Noble rule. I watched it. I’m not about to make him go through that again.”
“No?” I feel more than see Sabine arch a sculpted brow. “Then why were you in his room after such an obvious message was delivered to you? Why did you spend hours there? And why, dear, were you moaning and crying out his name?”
I stop breathing. My heart slams against the walls of my chest.
“Here is where you need to listen closely, Initiate. I have eyes where you will never see. Ears where you will always be deaf. Feet and hands where yours have been amputated. I am everywhere in this school.”
Then why did your eldest daughter die under your nose? I almost retort, but better judgment catches my tongue. “I understand.”
“I hope you do, dear, because this is my last warning. You do not want to put me in a position where I’ll punish rather than impart motherly advice. Say it.”
I suck in a long breath, my voice carrying more wind than sound when I say what she wants to hear. “I’ll break it off with Chase. For good.”
Sabine leans back, her forearms gliding down to the desk in soft repose.
“I’d like to ask one thing,” I say.
Her shoulders go rigid. “How daring. Go on.”
“Why don’t you want me to see him anymore?” I bend forward in my chair, inching closer despite every instinct telling me to run far away from this woman. “I thought the linking of a Noble and Virtue was encouraged. Relied upon, even. Isn’t it better for the Virtues if the Noble prince were with one of us?”
The room falls into such deep silence, I’m doubting if Sabine will ever answer.
I stand, lifting my bag, and turn to the door.
“You are not one of us yet.” Sabine’s whisper tickles my ear like the long, furred leg of a tarantula. “And if you ever wish to attain Virtuous status, you will not even lock eyes with my daughter’s soulmate. Do you understand?”
I rest my hand on the doorknob, my back rigid, my body still. It makes sense, what she’s guarding, despite the very real fact that Piper is never coming back. I did it for my mother, and I do it for her still. Yet, the matter remaining unspoken, the one involving Chase and his father, Sabine’s fiancé, is what comes to the forefront.
What would Daniel Stone want for his son? Certainly not to be forever linked to a girl in her grave. There is no power play in that, no maneuvers in which he can properly control his son. How long will Daniel let his future wife’s wish be fulfilled before his selfish motives become more important?
If I continue to flout their rules, I may be putting Chase in more danger than he’s already in.
I look over my shoulder at Sabine, thankful all my questions are masked by her makeshift shadows. “I understand.”
“Good.” That one syllable is a musical trill throughout the room. “The next time I see you, my dear, will be in better circumstances, I’m sure. I’ve left a gift for you at the foot of your bed. It’s my greatest wish that you enjoy it.”
My shoulder blades push into my spine, but I force my body steady. “Oh?”
“You’re dismissed,” Sabine says airily.
I don’t hesitate.
And once I enter the cool expanse of the hallway and shut the headmaster’s door behind me, I can finally breathe properly again.
13
I stare at the gossamer fabric, its silky, white skirts flashing a rainbow prism of color each time I pace back and forth at the foot of my bed.
Not quite mustering the courage to lift the white rose perched on top, I’ve been circling the unwelcome dress like one of those cleaning fishes on a shark, staring at it like at any moment, the ivory silk will form into fangs and take a chunk out of me.
But within its gauzy material lies a thick, cream envelope tied to the rose’s stem, which, if I stop gaping at it like a dummy, might give me more context.
Tentatively, I untie the black ribbon and slide the envelope out, opening it and reading the simple cream postcard inside.
Dear Initiate,
Wear this beauty with grace, respect its folds with delicacy, and stand within its silk with pride. You are to become a Virtue, and in time, you must prove purity and worth.
Attend the Winter Formal at the princess’s behest and the queen’s command.
And as a gentle reminder, this invitation is not to be declined. At any cost.
“Damn it, Ivy, I thought the formal was supposed to be normal,” I mutter, the letter slipping through my fingers and fluttering to the ground. Leaving it there, I grab the long-stemmed rose and dump it in the kitchen trash.
“Another letter from your secret admirers?” Emma asks as she reclines on the couch, her laptop propped on her thighs.
I acknowledge her with a grunt. “I suppose we never should’ve thought the Winter Formal was optional.”
“There’s no we about it,” she responds, before resuming typing.
“Right,” I mumble, then stride into my room, figuring I’ll be like Emma and try to get schoolwork done in the gaps of time where secret societies and their princes aren’t taking up all my mental space.
I grab my stack of textbooks on my desk, and they land on my bed with a thump. I climb aboard as well, deliberately avoiding the dress and crossing my legs while dragging my laptop along with me.
Just as I’m opening my computer, my phone I’d stuffed in my hoodie pocket vibrates and lets out a tiny ping of sound.
I try to ignore it, sliding my calc textbook closer and fanning the pages until I find the section we’ve been assigned.
My phone pings again.
There’s the option of silencing it. Or hell, turning it off. But with what I’ve discovered, been told, and witnessed these last several months, I’m positive I can do neither.
Casting my gaze to the ceiling, I pull it out, then grit my teeth, drop my chin, and read.
Chase: we need to meet.
Breath whistles through my teeth as I contemplate the meaning behind his words. Has he heard of Sabine’s visit? Does he know that’s why I left class today?
Me: we can’t. queen’s orders.
Chase: King’s orders too, but I enjoy finding loopholes.
He may get off on defying the societies’ rules, getting a public beating for it, then learning nothing and returning to his old ways like slipping on a comfy sweater, but I don’t have the same liberties.
Me: it’s not smart right now. I’ve been told to stay away from you. And for the good of everyone involved, I should probably do as Sabine asks.
A solid five minutes pass, my text window blank. Th
inking I’ve won, I go back to focusing on math problems.
Until—
Chase: Lover’s Leap. Nobody goes there anymore. Meet me at midnight. I’ll make sure we’re not followed.
Does this boy not understand what it’s like to have such a fragile foothold even while treading on solid ground?
Even as my mind whirrs with the potential consequences, my heart is figuring out ways it can be done.
I can see him one more time. Just once. Face to face, I’ll lay down the law with firm conviction, and explain to Chase that there’s more at stake than our relationship. That I’m working for Emma and Eden … Ivy, too.
Chase: Don’t make me beg, sweet possum. There’s something I need to explain to you.
I bring a hand up to massage my temple. My other thumb hovers over the phone’s keyboard.
Me: okay. But ten minutes max.
Chase: You’re the boss. See you soon.
Instead of texting back, I choke on a frustrated breath. I hope Chase knows what he’s doing. And I pray I’m doing it right.
A few hours later, the calculus homework is completed, but barely.
My bedside clock tells me it’s eleven, so I close my books, rationalizing that I can complete the rest of my homework tomorrow.
I slide off my bed, setting the books in a pile on my desk, then pad into the main room, noting Emma’s laptop and notes laid out on the couch and coffee table, but not Emma. I assume she’s gone to bed, since her door is shut, and the light is off.
As quietly as I can, I shower off the remnants of the day, allowing the hard, hot spray of water to massage my shoulders and the back of my neck, but keep my hair tied up and dry. After, I slip into the warmest clothing I have, with thermal underwear under my jeans and a long shirt, hoodie, winter coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.
Briarcliff has yet to experience the full effects of snow, but Jack Frost seems to be giving me the finger wherever I go these days, and if Chase wants to meet me outside at night, I’m going fully prepared for an Arctic trek and not a secret meet-up between the gnarled trees at the base of Lover’s Leap fifteen minutes away.
Thinking to warm my insides as much as out, I also craft a decaf latte to stick into a thermos for my walk.
Now that I’m fully loaded and have nothing left to procrastinate over, I creak the front door open and make the softest sounds before clicking it shut behind me.
The dorm’s hallway is at its dimmest light setting, but I take a hard left into the neighboring staircase, allowing the red, emergency exit signs to guide me to the main floor.
After that, it’s a matter of utilizing the best time to slip out the side exit and avoid the security guard’s rounds. I peer around the corner, and as I suspected, the two guards are chatting over their mugs of coffee at the lobby desk before they make their switch.
I slip from the building without anyone noticing, and with one mittened hand clutching my thermos and a knitted scarf covering half my face, I cut through the front of Thorne House and through the backwoods of Rose House, finding the trampled path to the cliffs with the careful use of my phone’s flashlight.
It’s only when I arrive at the barbed-wire gate blocking students’ entry to the edge of the cliff that I take in the forest’s stillness, its eerie winter silence sinking into my bones and settling its cold, frost-dampened fingers around my ribcage.
I’d been making so much noise trampling through the brush and kicking aside dead branches and rocks, that once I stopped moving, the frigid December presence made itself known, freezing the air and strangling everything that was once vivid, green, and bright, icing the ground beneath my feet.
Chase isn’t here yet, making the nightmare of this forest and the dark creatures lurking within it too imminent to bear. To give myself something to do, I prop my phone, flashlight on, against a blackened, twisted tree root, then uncap my thermos and drink some warmth back into my bones.
I won’t retreat. A simple swatch of forest, monitored by a security guard in a golf cart every twenty minutes, isn’t going to be the thing that takes me down.
There are far more vicious creatures in my daylight hours.
A low, motoring sound gets my attention, and I inhale icy air into my lungs, shoving the lid on my thermos and shutting off my flashlight before security finds me.
Crouching low, as headlights illuminate my spot, I curse Chase and his assurances that he had the times of security rotation on lock. These guards prowl our campus at all hours these days, December cold or not.
Branches crack and mounds of frozen ground fracture beneath tires, the engine growing closer and the beam of light becoming wider.
Shit. Shit. There’s still time to escape if I leap up and run now. I balance on the balls of my feet and lunge to the side, avoiding the outer edges of the pale, yellow spotlight cutting through stripped-down trees.
“Scampering somewhere, sweet possum?”
Halting with one foot high in the air, I pivot to the golf cart with a sigh. “Should’ve figured.”
“That I’d borrow a cart with heated vents instead of force us to negotiate ourselves into a deep freeze? Bet your ass you should’ve figured.”
“Define borrow,” I say, but move toward the vehicle, drawn to his words of ‘heat’ and ‘vents.’
As I sidle up to the cart, Chase meets my half-covered face with a closed-lipped grin. “There’s nothing money can’t buy. Even a slice of time.”
“How long do we have?” I ask as I take a seat, leaning close to the hot spurts of air in the console.
“Enough.” Chase slides his leather-clad hands from the wheel, puffed-out and comfortable in his black Canada Goose parka.
It’s a standard, open concept golf cart, so I’m not holding out much hope for a sauna-like experience.
“Won’t these headlights be obvious through the trees?”
“Callie.” Chase gently pries the thermos from my hands. “We’re fine for as long as we need.”
Chase uncaps the lid and tips it to his mouth. “No alcohol,” he says. “Disappointing.”
“Take this seriously. Please. Sabine pulled me out of class this afternoon for the sole purpose of telling me to stay away from you. Her entire aura screams danger, yet here I am.” I stare at the dark spots around the twin circles of light coming from Chase’s cart. “I’ve figured it out. I have a death wish.”
After a hard exhale, Chase sets down my thermos between us. “I’m taking this seriously. We’re meeting here, in the fucking cold, so nobody will see us together.”
I slide my gaze back to him. “Do you have any idea why Sabine doesn’t want us together? She made it sound like you still belong to Piper, but there’s got to be more to it. Your dad, her fiancé, wouldn’t want you attached to a—” I almost say to a ghost, but catch myself.
Chase stares at me for a long time. I blink uncomfortably under his study, my eyes feeling like cold, hard marbles shoved inside my skull.
Instead of answering, he murmurs, “If you were to have more control over the Virtues, would you take it?”
I press back into the seat. “I’ve never thought about gaining control over them. I’ve only ever wanted to dismantle them.”
Chase nods, clouds of air billowing out of his nose. “What if I gave you the chance to do either?”
I squint at him, the movement difficult with my fast-freezing cheek muscles. “What are you getting at?”
Chase twists to face me, holding my mittened hands in his. “I’m tired of my father commanding my life and ruining my sister’s. I don’t want to fucking stand down to his edicts. Not this time.”
“Chase.” I lean in closer, our clouds of breaths mixing and mingling in a way we can’t anymore. “I’m furious with your dad and Sabine, too, expecting us not to be together simply because they forbid us. But we have to be smart about this. You can’t thwart his rules with such obvious disregard and be beaten for it again.”
Again, Chase searches my face. I pull my hand
from his grip and place it on his cheek. “What is it? What are you not telling me?”
He surprises me by diving in for a kiss, my cold lips melting under his, Chase’s hot tongue doing more for me than warmed coffee in a thermos ever could.
Instead of fighting him, I grip his shoulders and angle my head to bring the kiss deeper. I thought we couldn’t do this anymore. I was prepared to stand back and watch him from afar for the greater good, but the moment he lays his lips on mine, the second his arm comes around my waist and makes me a part of him, my plan to remain calm and collected shatters.
We burst apart, our clouded exhales wider and opaquer.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he rasps.
I glance around us, licking my lips, tasting him. “Like you said, we’re safe for the moment.”
“Ah, sweet possum, we have so much more to do before we can find safe harbor.”
“I know,” I murmur, looking down at my hands.
“We can meet in secret, in places they’ll never find. I’m not about to give you up with a snap of their fingers.”
Rather than argue the point, especially when my lips still tingle from his stubble, I say, “We’ll figure it out.”
Chase catches my chin and tips it toward him. “We’ll do more than that. We’ll thwart them in the shadows.”
I sag underneath his touch but tell myself not to lose my spine. “Not if it means witnessing you get hurt again. I’ll endure whatever Sabine has planned for me, but if she uses you again, like she promised she will, I can’t prove her right. I can’t give her my weakness on a golden platter.”
His cold, leather thumb strokes my jaw while his eyes catch the luminescence of our only source of light. “I can’t bend to their will. I don’t have it in me, and I’d rather James break my arm and Rio kick me in the nuts than forfeit my time with you.”
Fiend (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 3) Page 11