by Huss, JA
“Ah,” Ax guffaws. “So that’s why her ass was dragged back too. Good. I’m glad. She deserves a summer like that.”
But Lars laughs. “Mona? A Swan? That’s hilarious. Whose practical joke is that?”
I laugh too. Can’t help it. The Swans are the Feather side of the Fang and Feather Secret Society at High Court College. The Fangs are… well. Us. The Kings. “That’s actually funny,” I say. “She’s probably sitting next door right now going, ‘Ax, Lars, and Cooper? Kings? Never!’”
We all laugh. We have to laugh. It’s the only way to cope with the punishment we’ve just been handed.
Then, as if on cue, Lars and I both look down at our bare chests, both of our shirts lost some time during the Cadee Hunter kidnapping. We have the same huge tattoo spanning the entire width from pec to pec. A double lion rampant—mouths open, hind legs clawing at the enemy, facing each other—with the High Court coat of arms between them.
It’s all very… whatever. Ruling class? Pretentious? Necessary? All of the above, I suppose. Because secrets, man. They make the world go round.
Even though it’s called Fang and Feather, there’s a subgroup called Fang and Claw for men only. Then the girls—the Swans—they have their own little club within the society too. We call that Wing and Feather. Their mascot is a swan with upstretched wings and long, arched neck.
Fang and Feather is secret only for what’s kept inside the tomb out in the woods, because everyone at High Court College knows this society exists.
I’m already a member. Technically. And so are Lars and Ax. But initiation is a full, four-year process and you’re only truly inducted—meaning you don’t get access to any real society secrets—until after graduation in senior year when you go through the final rite of passage.
Which, for us, is next spring. And that’s something I do not want to think about.
Lars blows out a breath. “It’s only eight weeks. We’ll have almost a whole month at the end to do something fun.”
Ax sneers at him. “Always Mr. Brightside.”
“What else are we gonna do?” Lars says. “Might as well make it a glass-half-full kinda thing.”
“We should’ve just… pretended. Ya know?” I look at Lars and Ax. Picture all the ways we’ve been rebelling against our lot in life through the years.
Ax and his violence and drugs. He’s been in rehab six times since he was thirteen. Only two of them were actually about the drugs. The rest were just a way out of juvenile lockup, thanks to his father, the Judge. He’s clean for now. But for how long?
Lars and his suicidal antics. He’s been in the hospital for dirt bike stunts, jumping into pools from third-floor rooftops, and waterskiing wipeouts more times than I can count.
Me and my careless indifference about… well, pretty much everything. Grades, people… sex.
“That’s why we’re here,” I say. “We should’ve played the game from the beginning. Kept our heads down, did what they wanted, and then we’d be free now. They would’ve just assumed we’d go along in the end.”
“Fuck that,” Lars says. “We’d be in deeper.”
“Yeah,” Ax agrees. “We’d have fallen for it. We’d have given in by now if we’d played the game. Just like everyone else.”
“But now they have their eye on us,” I counter. “We’ve done nothing but put a target on our backs.”
“We just do the job,” Lars says, sighing. “Be the bully kings and in eight weeks they’ll have their new crop of minions and we can take off for a little bit. Then one more year, you guys. One more year and we get the trusts. Then we’re free.”
Ax and I both look at each other.
We don’t believe it.
Oh, that’s the stipulation in the contracts. All we gotta do is graduate High Court College as members in good standing of Fang and Claw and we get the money.
But it’s just never that easy.
It won’t be that easy.
CHAPTER EIGHT - CADEE
When they start fighting out in the hall I just back away from the door until I bump into the bed and have to take a seat. I stare at the door, wondering which one of them will win.
But then I hear Lars and Ax and it’s pretty clear that Dane will have to back off or risk getting his ass kicked by all three of them.
I mean, that’s the whole point of having friends like Ax and Lars, isn’t it? So you can’t get jumped in a hallway. You can’t ever be outnumbered. Someone always has your back.
It’s a good plan. I have to admit that much. And if I had known how things were going to turn out, I’d have formed my own tight-knit circle of back-havers.
But I’m starting to wonder about my life. Have been wondering for the last two weeks. I am not naïve. I know what people think of me. I’m the good girl. The smart girl. The weird girl who used to live in the gardener’s cottage in the woods and now lives in the attic of the Alumni Inn.
But I grew up at High Court. Maybe I didn’t participate in all the wild things the girls my age have done over the years. But I saw it. I watched it from a distance. So I have an idea of what the outside world might be like.
Ruthless. Cutthroat. Runs on status and money.
Yeah… I sigh. I’m not gonna lie. That scares me. So even though that whole meeting with the Chairman was weird—and that’s putting it mildly—and even though I suddenly find myself in the lair of the enemy, I’m gonna stick it out and see where it goes.
Because I don’t have much choice.
All my things are gone. That makes me sad.
I turn and look at the room. It’s all very nice. A large queen-sized canopy bed with a lavender velvet duvet and matching curtains hanging down the sides. Which is kinda cool. Very… royal treatment. There are a lot of pillows on the bed, both the kind you use for sleeping and the pretty, decorative kind with beaded designs depicting medieval scenes and gold tassels hanging from the corners.
The curtains covering a set of French doors are really drapes, very heavy and pulled aside with more gold tassels, and sheer white ones underneath. The walls are a light gray, the floors are dark slate with a large room-sized carpet in the middle, and the trim is black. Very nice. Very high-end. Very… not me.
There’s a loveseat, a chair, two bedside tables, and a small writing desk with a computer on it. Glancing to my left I spy an en suite and a closed door, which is probably a closet. I can’t resist flipping the light on and taking a look at the bathroom.
And… yeah. Jaw-dropping. The bedroom design continues with the same floors, paint, and trim colors, but the sink and all the finishes are gleaming gold. Which normally I find tacky, but rich people always seem to be able to pull it off.
The soaker tub is freestanding on the far side and there’s a walk-in shower too.
I back out and take a long breath. Things have quieted down in the hallway and all the men have moved to other parts of the house, so I allow myself a moment to just… let my guard down and lie back on the bed.
Mona.
That’s the name that comes to mind right now. She was being kidnapped too. Not that I’ve actually been kidnapped. I glance at the French door that leads… well, somewhere that is not here. Outside, from the look of the sunshine filtering past the semi-sheer white curtain over the window. I could just leave.
And go where?
I literally have nothing. The Chairman took my whole apartment. My entire life was just stolen from me. Isn’t that what I heard Cooper say too? I think back. Yeah. He said, Looks like he stole your life. Just like he stole mine.
So where the hell am I going to go?
I know all the girls my age who go to school at Prep, but they’re not my friends. I’ve never actually needed friends. I had my parents. I’m a loner.
I like this about myself and I don’t want to change that.
But I might have to if I want to survive.
Because up until two weeks ago I have never been alone. I did have someone on my side. My mother. And my
father before he died.
But she’s gone now. So I am truly and utterly alone.
I need to change that.
I get up and walk over to the French door, try the handle, find it locked. But it’s a stupid lock, just one of those twisty things on the knob, which twists and unlocks.
So I open the door and find myself on a cute little patio facing an expansive green lawn. Through some trees I spot the side of the mansion next door. I look left and right, see nothing and no one, then close the door behind me and start walking towards the other mansion.
I know Mona lives next door to Cooper. I can’t say how I first learned this fact, and I have certainly never been to one of her infamous parentally unsupervised parties. But I know that Lars lives on one side of Cooper and Mona lives on the other.
This house I’m creeping towards might be hers and there’s only one way to find out.
I can hear her yelling long before I stalk up to the closest window and peek in. She’s not in this room, but her bellowing is loud and filled with threats. So. Good. My fifty-fifty chance panned out.
Now what?
She’s obviously still in the middle of her crisis and mine seems to be on hiatus.
I shuffle in place for a few moments, then duck behind a line of shrubs when I hear Dane Valcourt’s voice from behind me.
He’s not close enough for me to hear his conversation, and I’m not the least bit interested in spying on him anyway, so I just stay hidden and go over my options.
I could break into Mona’s house. Make her my BFF and get her on my side. But that’s kind of a stupid plan.
Mona doesn’t do friends either. But for the exact opposite reason as me.
Everyone hates her. I mean, don’t get me wrong. They will still show up for her parties, drink all her booze, and smoke all her weed. But they don’t like her.
They use her, she uses them. That’s how it goes with Mona.
And while I will take some mutually beneficial arrangement over nothing, I need more than just a business partner right now. I need a friend.
And that takes time.
She must be going over to Swan Camp. That’s why they dragged her home. That’s why Cooper dragged me here. I’ve heard about Swan Camp. Everyone has. The secret society at High Court isn’t much of a secret. I’ve heard girls talk about it through the years because I live on campus year-round and in the summers I used to help my dad in the gardens before he died. There are lots of kids who stay the whole summer. Maybe their parents are on vacation, or maybe they actually like staying here for the various camps. There’s a horse camp. An art camp. A football camp. Lots of camps.
But I think they stay because their parents don’t like them.
At least that’s what I’ve told myself over the years. It’s only natural to want to be the winner in some category, regardless of how small and meaningless.
And I won the jackpot with my parents.
Anyway. My point is that I know about Swan Camp.
And now I’m going too. Kind of.
As… the help.
But this is good. Because I’m pretty sure that Mona is going to Swan Camp too and that’s why those weird bodyguards of hers dragged her home. And that means that Mona will be there all summer. With me. Plenty of time for me to get on her good side and prove to her that she needs someone like me—someone who can watch her back from the outside, while she watches mine from the inside—so that both of us can get what we need.
I know what she needs. I think. The Cygnet is in charge of all the Swans. She is the queen. She calls all the shots in the secret society they have in the woods. Just like the King over on the male side of things.
I don’t know much about the Fang and Claw or Wing and Feather societies. I barely know anything, actually. But I know they are real and I know that a freshman girl like Mona would never be put in charge. There is, right now, some uptight girl calling herself Cygnet just waiting to make Mona’s life miserable all summer.
I can help take the queen down.
Whoa. Easy there, Cadee. That’s kind of diabolical.
This makes me smile. I’m learning. And this is definitely the offer I’m going to make Mona to make her help me… do what?
What will she help me do?
Do I need money from these people?
I mean, sure. I’m not going to turn down some free money. But I’m not going to break the law and bribe someone to get it.
The Chairman has already offered me a scholarship. I have no intention of accepting that. My dream has nothing to do with the drama of High Court College and the ruling class fighting for the crowns.
Maybe I can cash it in?
Somehow, I think not.
So what can I get out of these people?
Hmm. How about an apology?
Yeah, Cadee. Like that’s going to happen.
How about the truth about what really happened when I was fifteen?
I would be satisfied with that.
So the truth. If Mona helps me shine light on the truth about the dirty tricks the Valcourt family deals in, then yeah, I’ll help her depose the current Cygnet queen and do whatever it takes to put that crown of feathers on her head.
That’s four years of power for Mona. Definitely more than I’ll be getting out of it.
She will say yes.
She has to say yes.
But should I aspire to something higher? What if Mona laughs at my request? What if she thinks I’m simple and stupid for not wanting more?
Maybe I should get even? Make Cooper pay for what he did?
I realize it’s not all his fault, but I don’t care. I blame him anyway.
If his father is going through all this trouble to make him stay for the summer, then that can only mean one thing.
Cooper Valcourt is the heir to the High Court College Crown. He’s a senior this year. He had to have known he would be put in charge. He might not want it, but it doesn’t matter. It’s his, like it or not. Taking it away from him would only make him happy.
So I’m not going to take it away.
I’m going to make sure he’s crowned King at homecoming in the fall.
With Mona at his side.
I actually laugh all the way back to my door.
And I’m still giggling as I drift off to sleep in my new room inside this ridiculously luxurious mansion.
A knock on the door wakes me and I sit straight up in bed.
“Cadee?”
Jesus. What the hell? “Yes?” I call.
The door opens and the Chairman walks in. He looks over his shoulder, like he’s checking for people, and then quietly closes the door behind him.
I get out of bed and stand over by the small desk on the far side of the room before he even turns back. No way am I going to be sending this man any mixed messages. I don’t really understand why he’s got me here, but having him sneak into my room sets off all kinds of warning bells. After my experience with his son three years ago, I don’t trust him.
He’s surprised to find me so far away when he turns back. But he studies me. Folds his hands in front of him. Kinda rocks back on his heels. “Are you comfortable here?”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod my head and shoot him a tight-lipped smile. “Very. It’s… a lovely room. With an en suite. Nice touch.” You’re babbling, Cadee. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Good.” He keeps studying me. Kinda eyeballing my legs, actually. I suddenly find myself agreeing with Ax about the shortness of my shorts and wish I had put on sweatpants this morning. “Did you check your closet?”
“My… closet?”
He walks over to it and pulls the door open to reveal racks of dresses and shirts and stacks of sweaters and pants. How long does he expect me to live here that he purchased me sweaters? And how the hell did he do all this shopping before I showed up? “These belong to you now. So you can change.”
“I… um…” Manners, Cadee. Just remember your manners. This isn’t weird. It’s
fine. “Thank you.”
“For dinner, I mean.”
“Oh. OK.”
“I don’t know if you will like anything in here.” He pans a hand to the closet.
“Oh, I’m sure—”
“No. I mean, all this belonged to my third wife. She left them behind when I kicked her out.”
“Ohhhhh.”
“So you might not like any of it. She and you…” He tsks his tongue. “Let’s just say you have much better taste. Let me know if you need anything. I just figured you needed clothes after the mishap this morning and there wasn’t time to get anything else set up.”
Well. Wow. I do not even know where to begin. Everything I thought was happening is suddenly up in the air. Several dozen new alternatives begin to formulate in my mind, and I find myself very unsure of which game we are playing here.
It has to be a game. Doesn’t it? He can’t just be a nice man who wants to help me?
If there’s one thing I know about the Valcourts, it’s that they are not nice.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you. I mean, truly. My whole life has flipped upside down since my mom died two weeks ago.”
He frowns at me. Deeply. And nods. “I know. I liked your mother. A lot, actually. She made the very best little shortcakes for the cafeteria. Did she make those at home, too?”
I nod, suddenly feeling sad. “Yeah. She did. They were my favorite dessert as well.”
We’re silent for a minute. A long minute. So long it starts to become awkward and I want to say something. Anything to break this uncomfortable moment. But I don’t even know where to start.
“She was my friend,” he suddenly blurts.
“What?”
“Your mother.” He pauses. “Yes. I would count her a friend. I was at the funeral.”
“You were? I didn’t—”
“No, I stayed in the back and left early.”
“I’m sorry… what’s going on here? Were you two having—”
“No.” He puts his hands up, palms forward, trying to ward off my words. “No. It wasn’t like that. She was… just a friend.” Then he smiles at me with tight lips, the way I was smiling at him when he first entered. “She loved your father. Was devastated when he died.”