“You’re the new princess, aren’t you?”
Emma asks it so softly; the sound barely travels to my ears. But her head is cocked, her eyes carrying the louder message. Suspicion. Warning.
“Yes,” Ivy admits, but she twists and clings to my arms. “Please look at me, Callie.”
I do, but the movement’s stiff, my muscles slower to catch up than my mind at the word princess.
“I don’t want this anymore.” Her sudden whisper is ferocious, her eyes glistening with tears.
My hands move to cup her elbows, but in my periphery, Emma rises. She comes over to us, and with the gentleness of stroking a caged bird, she lays her hand on Ivy’s shoulder.
It’s all Ivy needs.
She releases me and folds into Emma, sobbing into her shirt. Emma tilts her chin, not in confusion, but to rest her head against Ivy’s, to hold her closer and make the hug more complete. Emma’s hand rubs Ivy’s back, and I stand there, a sudden stranger to my friend as Emma, the person who’s sacrificed the least emotion in this room, opens herself up to provide comfort.
Emma’s eyes flick to mine over the pale silk of Ivy’s hair. “I was a princess, too, once.”
I give a minute shake of my head, figuring I’m comprehending about a quarter of what’s really going on. Looking to Eden, I ask, “Are you aware of what a Virtue princess is?”
Eden’s expression is the closest to mine. She shakes her head. “I never got that far in their initiation. But if the Nobles have a prince, it makes sense the Virtues would create a princess.”
“We don’t have to talk about it. Not now.” Emma says it to Ivy, continuing to rub Ivy’s shuddering back. “That’s not why Ivy’s here.”
“What, suddenly you’re on her side?” Eden stands. “She’s one of them. She could be setting us up.”
“I’m not,” Ivy says, gulping air as she lifts her head. The fair skin of her cheeks is splotched in sections, her hair sticking to her tear-slicked face. “I came for some understanding. I’ve felt so alone since Piper died and thought there was no one. Then Callie and I got close and you came back,” Ivy says to Emma. “And Addisyn was arrested for Piper’s murder. After that, Callie was tapped for the Virtues. It’s too much. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Callie, I didn’t want to bring you into this. I wanted you so, so far away, but now it looks like I betrayed you, but I swear … I swear I only want what’s good. I became a member under Rose Briar’s teachings, but it’s been twisted and broken, and … and … when I was asked to step in as princess, I couldn’t say no. But it’s a pretend power. It wasn’t enough to stop them from coming for you, from getting you to that dock, even though I said nothing. I promise you I didn’t tell them you couldn’t sw—”
It’s too much. Watching my friend fall apart is too damned wrenching, and I fly forward and wrap my arms around her.
She doesn’t break down in tears again, but Ivy clings so tight, it’s like she’s asking for my intact soul to become hers, too.
“I had no idea you were so empty inside,” I say close to her ear.
“Please forgive me,” she whispers into my neck.
My grip tightens around her shoulders. “The Virtues take so much. I don’t want them to take our friendship, too.”
Ivy nods, sniffling into her sleeve, then slips a tissue out of her pocket.
“Are you saying you’re a part of our…” Eden trails off. “What are we? A team? Special ops? Cat burglars?”
“We’re the girls the Virtues crossed,” Emma says, her expression hewn from stone. “Ivy, if you’re to be a part of this, you have to prove you’re on our side.”
“I am.” Ivy nods sharply. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.” She looks between all of us. “What are you doing, exactly?”
Three of us stand in the center of the room. Eden makes it four when she draws nearer, a suspicious gaze cast on Ivy, but somewhat amenable to a new member, nonetheless. She mutters, “All for one, I guess.”
Emma takes a breath. “Okay, then. First test. Callie, what were you saying about your next task?”
My stomach sinks. But under Ivy’s sympathetic eye, I pick up my bag and pull out my phone. “This,” I say, though I keep the screen black.
“We need a little more than the big reveal of your phone,” Emma says.
Although I’d prefer to stare at the floor while unveiling the terrible details, I don’t. My mother didn’t raise me that way. Instead, I stare directly at Eden, and include only her.
“They have pictures of you. New ones. In the locker room. You’re changing out of your gym clothes and…”
I can’t make myself continue when Eden’s eyes die out.
Emma hisses out a curse. “Fuck them.”
“I agree,” I say, leveling my shoulders. “I refused to send it to the entire school like they wanted.”
“I’m worried they’ll ask for something worse,” Ivy says, her voice treading carefully. “I’m fairly convinced they were behind your mom’s photos, Callie. The ones of the crime scene.”
My focus zeroes in on her, but I blink out of it before my heart can crash to my throat. This isn’t about me right now, and I can’t say I’m surprised the Virtues were behind that terrible prank.
Ivy says, “They dig into your past, figure out your worst history, then throw it in your face. The things they could do with your most guarded secrets…”
I swallow. “Then I’ll have to grin and bear it, because I’m not putting her”—I point at Eden—“I’m not putting you through that again.”
Eden, her expression dulled, doesn’t even blink in reaction. Emma worries her lips as she squints at her friend, but with the way she keeps involving me in her stare, I can tell her thoughts are whirling toward—
“Do it.”
I stiffen, at first convinced the directive came from Emma, but she’s just as shocked as I am. Ivy folds her arms in on herself, appearing too gaunt and thin to unleash such a command.
That only leaves one other person.
“Are you serious?” I ask Eden.
She sets her jaw and nods. “This is my punishment for betraying them. I expected it. And if you don’t do this, they’ll come after you harder, and Emma and Ivy can both attest to the fact that it won’t be Falyn behind the next idea. Just do what that bitch wants and be done with it.”
“But … but last time—”
Eden cuts me off. “Last time, I was unprepared. And I—had no friends. None that stuck with me after the photos went out, anyway.” She lowers her head, hiding behind her hair.
“Eden,” Emma tries.
“Do it, Callie. Before I lose my nerve.”
I hold up my phone but shake my head. “I’ll take whatever they have coming next. I’m not going to—”
With the grace and speed of cutting through water, Eden darts close and snatches my phone from my grip.
“Eden!” I cry, but I’m the only one who does.
Emma and Ivy both look on, awed and horrified as they watch Eden thumb through my screen. The second she sees her photo, her face spasms before she smooths it into a hardened mask of hatred.
A few minutes later, she tosses the phone back at me. I fumble to catch it, clutching it to my chest.
Eden takes a deep breath. “It’s done. I’ve sent it out through a fake account.”
I’m going to be sick. “Eden, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Forget about it,” she says, then swivels to grab her things. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”
My lips tremble. Ivy holds back tears. Emma lifts her hand as Eden walks through our tiny group and toward the door.
“Go home, Eden,” Emma says. “Home home. By the time Thanksgiving is over, something else will draw their attention.”
“That’s the thing,” Eden says, her hand on the doorknob. She doesn’t turn around. “I don’t forget. But I’ll be better, I’ll feel whole again, if you bring me their heads. Even if you have to betra
y Chase, Callie, show me it was worth it, and I’ll learn to forgive.”
“You have my word,” I say softly, but Eden doesn’t catch it, because she’s already thrown herself into a hallway of laughing, howling wolves.
8
I spend Thanksgiving in full-on Hates-giving mode.
I don’t let it show, to my dad or Lynda. I’m docile, accepting the catered turkey feast and the extravagant holiday party with the smile of a perfect daughter.
To be honest, my relationship with Dad and Lynda moved by leaps and bounds in just one week. I arrive on their doorstep the morning of Thanksgiving, and Dad envelops me in a huge, hard hug. We’re both still dealing with our grief over Mom in different ways—he was able to grapple with the consequences of her affair with Paul Harrington for over a year, while I’ve just found out, and I’m still having trouble with the imperfect image of Mom—but I haven’t enjoyed the smell of his cologne this much since I was nine. I haven’t let myself look forward to a baby sister this much since I was a kid, wishing for a sibling. And I haven’t gotten to know Lynda this much since … ever.
It’s enough to put my anger on simmer instead of boil, but the back of my mind crawls with thoughts of Eden and how she’s coping. She didn’t show up to any of her classes for the rest of the shortened week. My multiple texts to her go ignored. My calls are declined. Because she won’t talk to me directly, I focus on backdoor ways to help her out, like reporting the Instagram posts and sending an anonymous email to Headmaster Marron about the harassment.
It will never be enough.
That slithering thought, with a rattlesnake tail, refuses to uncoil, and I live with it for four days before I can reenter Briarcliff Academy turf and begin my take-down of the Virtues’ secret society.
Because that, for Eden, will be enough.
After the holidays, the train into Briarcliff arrives on time. I’m saddened to see another driver waiting to chauffer me to campus. I was hoping that my favorite guy, Yael, also Eden’s dad, would meet me, so I could poke around regarding Eden’s welfare.
Then again, he’s probably at home with his wife and Briarcliff custodian, Moira, deciding if this is the instance where they’ll override their daughter and send her somewhere else to complete her senior year.
I can’t blame them, and I’m sick at being part of their reason, not their cure.
That has to change.
I’m not about to become the Virtues’ vessel for getting petty, terrible shit done.
In fact, I’m so consumed by thoughts of Eden, Chase doesn’t enter my mind until I’m practically on top of him once I reach the academy’s outdoor pavilion.
“H-Hey,” I hedge, when he turns around from his group of friends, a hot drink in hand.
Chase doesn’t nod. He won’t shift. Just stands in my path, his lids lowered, concealing the depth of his eyes.
I lift my chin, despite his attention turning my insides to mush. I’m thankful the weaker parts of me are surrounded by hard, emotionless bone. I ask, with as little care as possible, “How was your Thanksgiving?”
His lips part. “Move along.”
“Possum,” James adds behind Chase, snickering. “You got some naked pics for us, too?”
I give him a sidelong look, though inside, that slow simmer of mine is hitting a dangerous boiling point. I guess it didn’t take Chase long to forgive his buddy for helping to orchestrate my deep-dive into the Briarcliff lake.
Chase steps aside, his movement carrying a cold wind. I chance another look—just one sign—that this is an act, and there will come a moment where we can share our true emotions in private, or that James will receive another face-punch, but I receive nothing in return. Not even a ripple of emotion in those river-rock eyes.
He’s let James get away with it. Again.
“See you around,” I say, keeping strong, staying level, until I’m inside, out of sight, and I can slouch my shoulders without being watched.
I plan to hit my locker and dump the books I’d brought home before walking to the dorms, where I’m hoping Emma will be, and we can have a late dinner together, far from the dining hall.
Maybe Eden will be there, too. Maybe something can go right for once, and the three of us can have a quiet evening with noodles instead of rumors coming between us.
As always, unlocking the padlock to my locker causes my spine to stiffen and my feet to brace on the floor. I’m torn between flinging the door open and getting any nasty surprises over with or creaking it ajar with my fingers and peering over the wood.
“Glad I caught you!”
The jarring trill makes me jump, almost into my locker.
“Jesus,” I say, heart pounding as I spin around.
“Sorry,” Ivy says. “I probably should know by now to approach you with caution.”
“I almost used these textbooks on you,” I say after catching my breath.
Ivy loops her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans, sporting a simple white T-shirt on top. “How was your—?”
“Fine,” I say, cutting off what will inevitably be the most basic, polite question ever after coming back from Thanksgiving. Our cobbled-together friendship deserves better than that. And I just used it on Chase.
I cringe.
Ivy takes my expression another way. “Shoot—sorry, again. I didn’t mean to pry. I know you and your dad have problems, and I wasn’t—”
“It’s fine,” I assure. “Better than fine, actually. Dad and I are on the mend.”
“Really?” Ivy’s raises her brows with pleasure. “Callie, that’s awesome.”
The genuine warmth in her voice relaxes the tight cords in my chest. “Yours was good, too?”
“Sure.” Ivy shrugs. “If you count eating a goose instead of a turkey. Loved seeing Mum and Dad, though.”
“I’m glad.” Then I cringe again. This is not how we usually are with each other.
“Um, so…” Ivy peers over her shoulder. No one else hangs around the lockers. Not surprising, since it’s late Sunday night, and students don’t normally run straight into the main building after arriving from vacation.
I dump my books in the locker, then bend to grab my duffel and slide it back on my shoulder. “What’s up?”
“I mean…” Ivy’s cheeks puff out with held-in breath. “We’re on such fragile ground, you and I…”
Another cord loses tension inside my chest. “You sense it, too.”
Ivy widens her eyes in a hell yeah gesture, then digs her thumbs harder into her pockets. “And I’m about to make it worse.”
There we go. Knots upon knots behind my ribs. “Don’t prolong the torture. Out with it.”
“I’m a—ugh.” Ivy sighs. “I’ve been sent as an emissary, and I hate that they’ve chosen me to do this, but Falyn flaunts being in charge of your recruitment so freaking much, and I’m seriously about to lose it on her—”
“Ivy. Get back on track.”
“Yes. Okay. You need to come with me.”
“I’m to what?”
“Right now.”
I point to my duffel bag. “I was planning to—”
“Stuff it in your locker.”
Ivy’s flicked some sort of inner switch, her expression falling as flat as her voice.
“Ivy…”
“Please.” For a second, her brows furrow. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
My hand comes up in surrender. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
I squish my duffel, and then my winter coat, into my locker, then shut and click the padlock before following Ivy into the hall.
We walk in silence, something we’ve never done before, and without anything to fidget with, I resort to rubbing the hem of my hoodie between my thumb and index finger.
Once at the back of the building, Ivy pushes the heavy wooden doors open, a counteracting winter wind rushing through the cracks.
I grimace. “I should’ve brought my coat.”
“We won’t be long.�
�� Ivy points to the adjacent building beyond the howling wolf fountain.
My gaze travels past the roaring snout, and I sigh. “Should’ve known.”
“Come on.”
Following her brisk steps, I navigate around the stone fountain (thankfully turned off and thus avoiding a freezing, spraying mist of water) and toward the new library, or, what it’s officially called: the M.B.S. Library of Studies, built by Chase’s family and constructed over the ashy bones of Emma’s revenge gone wrong.
That kind of awareness causes enough heebie-jeebies when stepping through the sleek, chrome-lined sliding doors. Add in the Virtues’ hidden temple and … yeah. I’m not looking forward to my final destination.
They’ve recruited you because they think they can control you. Don’t let them be right.
I reply to my mom’s quiet voice: I won’t.
The lights are dim to non-existent once we step through the turnstiles with Ivy’s keycard, and the librarian is nowhere in sight.
Usually, the natural hush of a library is soothing, soft voices and rustling pages some of the only sounds breaking through a quiet solitude. This time, however, my back is up, my eyes alert, and my hands clenched.
We head to the back, single file, until we reach a wall of books. Long, rolling ladders are on either side of us, and what seems like unending stacks of books are behind us. The furniture is magnified, somehow, with just Ivy and me here. The aisles growing smaller in the swallowing darkness, the shelves looming larger over my head.
I shake off the fear, because I’ve never been afraid of the dark, and I’m not about to start now. I watch as Ivy crouches to the ground and lifts a floorboard, the movement smooth and quiet.
I swear, if an owl hoots outside, I might jump out of my skin.
Crossing my arms, I say, “Is this how you usually enter the temple?”
Ivy looks up. “There’s an outside entrance, but it’s not used much in winter.”
I make a sound of agreement, if only for something to do, as Ivy reveals a small coding panel in the floor and types in a pin. I recall what Chase said to me. “So, I guess the ancient key I snorkeled for is more of a symbol.”
“It belonged to the old temple, built when Rose Briar was in charge. With this new construction, we were able to update a lot of things.”
Fiend (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 3) Page 6
