Текст книги "Vicious secrets"

Автор книги: Morgan Bridges

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 23DELILAH

Islip in my earrings, wishing I could admire the way they complement my silver dress. It’s from a second-hand shop, but no one would ever know because of the label inside. Tonight calls for an elegance I don’t usually get to participate in, and I couldn’t care less. My heart has been racing ever since I got the email from Professor Ames this morning, and now that it’s almost time, I want to puke.

The door swings open to reveal Raven. She runs her gaze over my shiny dress and arches a brow. “Hey, sexy. Hot date tonight?”

I shake my head. “I wish. This,” I say, running my hands down my sides, “is for extra credit.”

“As a prostitute?”

A laugh slips out of me. “No. This place doesn’t allow bribery, so I’m pretty sure prostitution is off the table.”

“That’s a shame.” She steps fully into the room and shuts the door behind her. After tossing her purse on the floor, Raven throws herself on her bed and folds her arms over her chest. “That outfit of yours screams, ‘do me, daddy’ instead of ‘university event.’”

“I don’t care if it’s boring, as long as it allows me to keep my grades up.”

“Where is this thing anyway?”

I pick up my lipstick and apply it before speaking. I’m unsure how much I’m allowed to disclose about my contract, but keeping Miss Sherlock Holmes from suspecting anything is going to be a challenge. I’m pretty confident she wouldn’t tell anyone if I told her my situation, but that’s not my only issue. I’m not just scared of losing my scholarship, I’m beyond embarrassed this is happening.

“It’s at the student center,” I say.

“That’s for nerds. I wouldn’t be caught dead there.”

I know. That’s why I chose it as my answer.

“You were right about Professor Ames,” I say, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction. I secure a diamond-tipped hair pin in my updo. “He’s a hard ass when it comes to grading. If I want an A in his class, then I have to do this extra credit.”

“As long as it doesn’t include sucking his dick, then you should be okay.”

I make a face. “That’s not happening. What are your plans tonight?”

“Well, I was going out with June, but she canceled on me this morning. Bitch.” Raven sighs and rolls on her side to face me. “She said she had some mandatory thing for her math club. Talk about boring. I bet she’ll be at the student center too.”

“Maybe,” I say, avoiding eye contact with my roommate. “All right, I’m out of here.”

“Have fun, if you can.”

“I doubt it.”

She snorts. “Me too.”

“Don’t wait up for me.”

Raven blows me a kiss right before I shut the door behind me. Within moments, I’m outside, the cool evening air brushing my cheeks. I stay on the sidewalks to avoid breaking an ankle in my heels. The click that sounds with every step I take is like a metronome, ticking away towards my doom.

The only silver lining in this whole ordeal is the possibility that I could see Ben. Whether or not he wants to see me is something I won’t allow myself to think about for long. It’s been weeks since we last spoke, and now the prospect of encountering him stirs so many conflicting emotions.

If I walk up to him, will he ignore me? Would there be tension or a familiarity that’s been constant most of my life? What’s the reason he’s been avoiding me?

My tumultuous thoughts keep me company as I make my way across campus. Eventually, the glow of the fraternity’s castle comes into view, guarded by the ornate iron-wrought gate. I slow my steps on the gravel-filled driveway and then stop in front of the entrance.

Like magic, the gate slides open. They have great security… or someone’s anticipating my arrival.

Hesitation slithers down my legs, keeping me from moving. I shake it off and pull my coat tighter around my shoulders before marching forward. The faster I get in there, the faster I can get this over with.

The heavy, wooden door of the castle opens without a sound just as I reach the threshold. A figure emerges, backlit by the lights from the foyer. It’s an older man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, and polished onyx shoes.

The man inclines his head and extends his arm with flourished movement, his gloved hand pointing in my direction. “Welcome, Miss Scott.”

I nod, too unsettled by everything to form coherent words. It’s one thing for the gate to swing open when I show up, but to have this man open the door before I knock is another. Not to mention he said my name, which means he knows my identity. The security in this place is epic or really fucking scary.

“I am Mortimer. Mrs. Emerson has asked me to escort you to the lounge. Right this way, please.”

My mind instantly hones in on the founding family name of Emerson. Another bitch who’s probably drinking the crazy kool-aid. I suppose I should be grateful I’m not dealing with Professor Ames. He’s like a not-hot Professor Snape: smart, creepy, and a dick.

As Mortimer leads the way, the grandeur of the castle’s interior momentarily diminishes my nervousness. The entrance hall is adorned with colorful tapestries depicting different coat-of-arms and battle scenes from the Revolutionary War. I glance up at the chandeliers, now electric instead of using candles, and their sparkle momentarily dazzles me.

We climb a wide staircase that’s covered in a rich burgundy carpeting. The carved banister is smooth to touch, worn by generations of hands. At the top, he guides me down a long hallway and my heels sink into the plush material underneath my feet.

I scan the area and frown when I find we’re completely alone. Although I have no idea how many fraternity members live in this building, I figured I would’ve seen at least one by now.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

The butler never stops walking but turns to briefly look at me over his shoulder. “All will be revealed in time, Miss Scott. You’ll see.”

His cryptic response makes my nervousness return in full force. I’m not sure why I’m so jittery. This event is sanctioned by the university, at least to an extent, so it has to be safe.

Right?

Mortimer stops in front of a pair of double doors at the end of the corridor before pushing them open. I peek around him to find a room draped in blue and gold.

“Mrs. Emerson will be with you shortly,” he says.

I nod and step into the room, finding it empty. The large fireplace takes center stage and gives the space a welcoming glow. Plush sofas have been placed in front of it, the flames from the fire dancing along their deep blues and bright golds. The walls are draped with swaths of cream-colored silk and accentuated with golden filigree patterns.

My inspection of the decor comes to a halt when the doors open behind me. I immediately take a step back, my gaze focused on the newcomer. Mortimer guides her inside, giving her the same speech he did to me, and shuts the door once more.

June glances around the room, taking in the antique furniture, but when her gaze lands on me, it widens. My friend hurries over to my side, her long legs scissoring gracefully. The black dress she wears is similar to mine in style, straps lining her shoulders and the hem stopping just above her knees.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“You first.” She eyes me up and down. “Though it looks like we’re here for the same party.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. The uncertainty of the situation rushes through me, loosening my tongue. “I, uh, had a little incident involving a certain asshole professor. Signing up for this event was my way of getting out of trouble. Your turn.”

June folds her arms with a sigh. “My academic advisor called me into the office yesterday and told me that my ‘failure to participate in community activities could lead to my scholarship being revoked,’” she says, making air quotes. “I can’t afford the tuition, so here I am, despite the fact that I was never told about this.”

“I was accused of cheating. Well, not me, but helping the guy next to me do it.”

“Seriously?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m here to exemplify a model student.”

“Join the club. Do you know what we’re supposed to do exactly?”

“Not a fucking clue. The email I got from Professor Ames was short and didn’t tell me anything important other than the date, time, and what to wear.”

June purses her lips. “Honestly, this is the biggest load of bullshit. I don’t get how us attending a fraternity’s initiation ceremony makes any difference.”

I open my mouth to respond, then promptly shut it when the door opens. Another young woman, clearly a student like us, walks into the room. Her hair is a dark brown, but her eyes hold the same apprehension as ours.

It takes me a moment to recognize her. An image of her adjusting her clothing before she chases after a disheveled Xavier fills my mind. A rush of heat sweeps over my cheeks before I can stop it. Jealousy, an unwelcome intruder, wraps its fingers around my heart and squeezes.

I stare at the young woman while reminding myself that I’m not interested in Xavier. Never mind the fact that he’s a grown man and free to sleep with whoever he wants. It’s not like him saving my life means I’m indebted to him or that I’ve stopped being pissed at him for keeping secrets about Ben.

Even with that logic running through my mind, I find myself studying her features, trying to understand what he sees in her. In comparison, her clothing is better quality, and she carries an air of sophistication I can never replicate. Maybe she’s his girlfriend and one of the reasons he keeps telling me to stay away from him.

“Hi,” she says with a tiny wave, bringing me out of my grim thoughts. “I’m Brenda. You guys here for the ceremony?”

“Yes,” June says. “I’m June, and this is Delilah.”

Brenda comes to stand beside us, wringing her hands. “This place is wild. They don’t allow anyone on the property, let alone inside. It’s crazy that they want us here to begin with. My roommate is super jealous.”

“It doesn’t add up,” June says. “I’m saying that as a woman and as a math genius.”

I nod. “Agreed.”

That is what’s been bothering me since I received the email from Professor Ames. Nothing about me being here makes any sense. My presence should have no bearing on the proceedings, yet there’s three of us standing in this room.

The doors open, and I jerk my head in that direction. My gaze lands on a middle-aged woman as she strides into the space with a commanding air. Dressed in a gown that combines opulence with a hint of sensuality, she wears a navy-colored fabric that clings to her body. Her chestnut hair has been swept up into a bun atop her head, and there are artfully arranged curls framing her face.

She stops two feet from our group and claps her hands sharply. “All of you need to remove your clothes. Now.”

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Chapter 24DELILAH

“Listen,” I say, “it’s more likely that tiny cherubs will fly out of my ass before I take this dress off.”

June nods. “Same, but not cherubs. I’m going with oranges. It’s a healthier option.”

Mrs. Emerson lifts a brow, clearly not amused. “I don’t have time for your antics. The Order has charged me with the task of preparing you for the ceremony. I haven’t been late in my duties for over a decade, and I’m not about to start now.”

I look to June, not bothering to hide the shock that has to be written all over my face. Mrs. Emerson’s authoritative tone leaves no room for negotiation, but that’s not what has fear coiling in my gut. It’s the fact that this ceremony has been taking place for over a decade. At least.

“Look, lady,” June says, “I signed up to participate in a community event, not a nudist colony.”

Nervous laughter bubbles up in my throat and I stifle it. My discomfort over this turn of events is like champagne, making me drunk on fear.

The older woman tilts her head, her expression unfazed. “Your concerns are duly noted. However, let me be perfectly clear. You signed a contract. A legally binding one that will have you stripped of your academic funding if you refuse to follow through with your obligations.”

“You can’t do this,” Brenda says. Her voice takes on a higher pitch, filled with hysteria. “I never would’ve signed if I’d known you were going to ask me to participate while naked.”

“You won’t be nude, silly girl,” Mrs. Emerson says. “You are going to wear the proper ceremonial clothing.”

She walks over to a large armoire and pulls open the door. Inside are several white gowns. The woman selects one and holds it out from her body, her gaze darting to me.

It’s a wedding dress.

“I think this is your size.” When I don’t move to retrieve it, she thrusts it in my direction. “All you have to do is put it on. Before the event starts, you will be given a chance to get out of your contractual obligation, but until then you have to be dressed in the appropriate attire.”

A heavy silence drapes over the room like a velvet curtain, suffocating me. I drop my gaze, unable to look at June as I give into the demands weighing on my shoulders and take a step forward. This might be just a scholarship to some people, but to me it’s my entire life.

When June and Brenda also take the dresses handed to them by Mrs. Emerson, I highly suspect I’m not the only one who has much to lose.

I inhale a deep breath before removing my silver dress. The rustling of fabric echoes throughout the room as each of us complies with the unusual directive. Mrs. Emerson’s gaze stays locked on us, completely unaffected by our distress and discomfort.

The cool, pale material slides over my skin like a gentle breeze. Intricate lace patterns cascade along my arms and down my entire back, leaving me feeling exposed. The skirt only billows out slightly, providing enough room for me to walk comfortably, but still clings to my hips in an enticing manner.

“The removal of your old clothes is symbolic,” Mrs. Emerson says. “It represents you shedding your preconceived notions about control and embracing the Order’s authority over you.”

I grip handfuls of my skirt and yank on them. “Why a wedding dress? That’s pretty fucking specific.”

“You’re a bride.” When my eyes nearly pop out of my head, she waves a hand in dismissal. “Relax. The only contract you’re fulfilling is the one you signed, not a contract of marriage.”

“Let me guess,” June says, folding her arms, “the wedding dress is symbolic?”

The older woman nods. “However, not in the way you think. Yes, it’s associated with loyalty, in the way a bride must remain faithful to her husband. But it also represents the power the recruit has over you. If he claims you, he will be your master, and you will be his property.”

I make a choking noise before throwing up my hands. “I’m out, like a vegan at a fucking barbecue.”

“Same.” June marches behind me. “No scholarship is worth this shit.”

“Failure to fulfill your duties doesn’t just have repercussions within these walls.”

Mrs. Emerson’s words have me coming to a halt mid-step. I plant my feet and slowly turn to face her, my heart thundering in my chest. “What do you mean?”

“The power wielded by the Order extends far beyond the realm of academia.” The older woman’s brow furrows, a pitying expression on her face. “Did you really think you could walk away? The founding families of the Obsidian Order are no ordinary individuals. They control industries that permeate every facet of society. Technology, firearms, medicine, finance—their influence is beyond comprehension for those outside its confidentiality.”

The gravity of her revelation has my legs trembling. I reach out and grip June’s hand to keep from falling to the ground.

Mrs. Emerson continues speaking, every sentence like a guillotine above my head, getting closer and closer. “Your actions and involvement within this place are not isolated. The power behind these men is not only extensive but pervasive. You can’t escape it, no matter where you run. It’s better for you to save your energy for the chase in the Bride Hunt.”

“Chase?” I repeat the word in a whisper, barely discernible to my own ears. “What chase?”

Mrs. Emerson nods. “That is the part of the ceremony you were summoned for, bride.”

“But we’re not actually getting married, right?” Brenda asks. She wrings her hands until her skin blanches, similar to the pallor of her face. When the older woman nods, she exhales. “What about the chance to get out of this?”

“If you can make it to the forest’s edge, your contract will be null and void.” Mrs. Emerson shrugs. “It’s as simple as that.”

“And if we can’t?” I ask, my words sharp with fear.

“Then, my dear bride, your recruit will be a very happy man.”

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Chapter 25DELILAH

The forest is eerie at night.

Ancient trees cast elongated shadows in the moonlight, turning the grass-covered earth into a sea of black. In contrast, Brenda, June, and I stand there, covered in snowy white dresses that are blinding against the dark background.

There’s no way we can hide.

My heartbeat echoes in my ears, growing louder with every passing moment until I’m deafened by my fear. The other girls’ expressions mirror my own, a mixture of horror, reluctant acceptance, and anticipation. No one has said it out loud, but we’re all determined to get out of our contract by reaching the edge of the forest.

If not, we’re fucking fucked.

I glance at the trees, waiting for someone to emerge from the shadows. Although I’ve been waiting for their arrival since I first stepped outside, I’m still shocked when it happens. One by one, each man appears, completely covered in black clothing.

And a mask.

Every single one has a white background with black designs. Some have splotches over the eyes, while others have streaks or tribal-like markings. One has nothing except black dots on it, reminding me of an old-school hockey mask.

I’m sure the masks and the colors symbolize something. I just don’t know what. And have no intention of staying long enough to find out.

The group enters the clearing and creates a semi-circle around us. Mrs. Emerson watches from a distance, clearly waiting for something. Or someone.

I squeeze the shit out of June’s hand, and she grunts but doesn’t pull away. In fact, she returns the gesture. Brenda stays close to me, pressing her side to mine, lending me her body heat.

The wind chooses that moment to stir, creating gooseflesh on my skin. I shiver from both the cold, the damp grass under my bare feet, and the gazes of the men staring at me. Their eyes, the only visible feature, glint with intensity.

And hunger.

Even though I’m mentally one scream away from a padded room, I hold my ground and lift my chin. Fuck these guys.

And Ben, if he’s willing to participate in this type of thing.

I scan the men, searching for anyone similar in build and height to my foster brother. There are nine of them, and three could be him based on hair color.

“Ah, fuck,” a recruit mutters.

My ears perk up. I recognize that voice. I know that “fuck.”

I hone in on the speaker, narrowing my gaze as if I can see through his mask, the one that has a black patch over the left eye. It has to be Ben. Adrenaline combines with betrayal in some fucked-up cocktail streaming through my blood.

Right when I’m about to walk over to him, another figure appears. This one is different from the rest. He has a mask on, but it’s pure black. There’s also a black cloak covering him from head to foot, concealing his imposing frame.

Every member of the fraternity looks in his direction. And by fraternity, I mean a fucking cult.

There's an aura of power to this man that has chills running down the back of my neck. The recruits keep their focus on him, their gazes never straying. He comes to stand in the gap between us and the younger men, and gestures for us to kneel.

I stiffen in disdain, but June yanks on my arm, pulling me down. The grass beneath me is cool and slightly damp, the moisture clinging to my skirt. I dig my nails into the dirt to keep silent, and to stop myself from flipping this guy off.

“Mors solum initium,” he says.

Every recruit repeats the phrase, their voices becoming one sound. It’s melodic, a deep baritone that echoes through the clearing. I know it’s Latin, but I have no clue what it means. Or if I even want to know.

The man clasps his hands behind his back. “You will be ranked according to skill and execution. Not only tonight, but in the upcoming Trials and every area the council deems worthy. The top three recruits will automatically be selected as crows and given first choice in assignments. These brides are my gift to you.”

He points in our direction. I glare up at him, not bothering to hide my irritation until June sways into me. I’m quick to steady her. We exchange a glance, and her eyes beg me to stay quiet.

“Let there be no misconceptions,” he continues. “A bride will never be a crow’s wife. But she can be a recruit’s prize. She represents your standing within the ranks, as well as the victories you’ve earned through prowess, cunning, and strength. How she acts is a reflection of you. This arrangement is temporary but highly indicative of how you will utilize power once you’ve been given a taste. And this, gentlemen…”

He leans down and snatches my upper arm, yanking me to my feet. “This type of power is only the beginning.”

When I rear back, he tightens his hold, his fingers digging into lace and skin. I suck in a breath at the pain and the scent of his cologne fills my nose. It’s expensive, soothing to the senses, yet crisp with a hint of smoke.

“What if we get out of our contract?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Will you leave us alone?”

He laughs, the sound like poison in my veins, making me ill. “I might be a man without morals, but I do have a code of justice. If you can break the tree line, you will walk away from this, sworn to secrecy for the rest of your life. Or it’ll be forfeit.”

“I’d rather be sworn to secrecy than to a year of servitude.”

“This one,” he says, shaking me, “is going to be fun to break, recruits.”

“If they fucking catch me,” I snap, raising my voice for everyone to hear.

He yanks me to him, and I slam against his chest, the impact jarring me. My bare feet struggle to gain purchase on the grass. When I’m standing, I jerk up my head and stare into his eyes. The gray behind the mask pierces me, stabbing my vulnerability and making it bleed.

“One of them will catch you, bride. And when they do, I’ll enjoy watching you be tamed.”

My stomach heaves at the implication. I’m not certain what he means exactly, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to run like fucking Forrest Gump or die trying.

Before I can come up with a response, the man releases me. I stumble back and immediately right myself, lifting my chin with a glare aimed in his direction. He ignores me and goes back to addressing the recruits.

“Remember the rules. No killing. Everything else is permissible.”

Is he talking about us? Or them in regard to each other? Neither answer gives me comfort.

I take up my spot next to June. She stares at me with stark terror gripping her features while Brenda trembles next to me. I wish I could say something reassuring to them, but nothing comes to mind. The only thing I can focus on is getting out of this contract by whatever means necessary.

“Brides,” the leader says, “your time begins in five…”

My heart lurches in my chest as I bend my knees in preparation to bolt.

“Four…”

I look at June, encouraging her without words that we can do this. Although fear is like a corset around my ribcage, making it hard for me to breathe.

“Three…”

With my fists by my sides, I stare straight ahead, ignoring the men around me. Their gazes are ravenous, like a pack of wolves about to be set on a lamb. I might be wearing white, but my soul is dark enough to give them hell.

“Two…”

Fuck this guy.

“One.”

I take off.

In that moment, I forget about everything and everyone except myself and my need for freedom. If I get out of this nightmare, I’ll be in a better position to help June and Brenda. Maybe.

The wind whistles past my ears. It blows loose strands of hair across my face, the silky pieces sticking to my lips. I don’t take the time to fix it.

Every second counts. I can’t spare a single one.

My feet pound against the earth in time with my rapid heartbeats. Every sound is now heightened. The rustling leaves. My breaths. A snapping twig. But the loudest noises are my thoughts.

Faster. FASTER. FASTER.

Ahead, the moon casts a spotlight through the treetops. It’s beautiful, peaceful, and completely at odds with the terror streaming through my body.

I continue forward, keeping my path straight to achieve the shortest distance to my goal. The forest plays tricks on my senses, casting menacing shadows on uneven terrain.

I trip and stumble. Then push through, never stopping as fear bites at my heels like a rabid animal. The forest is a blur as I weave through the natural labyrinth. However, my motivation is clear.

Don’t get caught, or I’ll face something worse than death. A complete loss of freedom.

A flash of movement catches my eye.

My heart stops. Panic takes over, and I pivot, making a hard left turn. And then another.

The recruit chasing me mimics my steps, his speed eclipsing mine. He closes the distance between us and grabs my forearm.

The pull on my arm causes me to come to an abrupt halt. Pain shoots from my shoulder like a blaze of fireworks.

“Fuck!” I gasp.

The masked figure yanks me in his direction. I lean into the momentum, spinning toward him with my other arm raised. My elbow connects with his stomach, and he grunts.

Before he can trap my arm between our bodies, I reach up and grip my hair pin. The man’s eyes widen in surprise when I drive the pointed end into the soft skin of his neck, just under the dotted mask.

The leader said no killing, but everything else is fair game, including stabbing.

“Bitch!”

His expletive is followed by a sharp inhale as his hold loosens. I capitalize on the momentary weakness and break free, ripping the hair pin from his flesh. Then I spin on my heel, only to find another masked recruit materializing right in front of me, blocking my path.

Trapped between two men, I frantically scan my surroundings for the best escape route. The first recruit quickly recovers from my attack and lunges for me. I shriek in outrage and leap back.

Just as he’s about to grab me, a blur of movement disrupts him. The newcomer knocks his arm away and plants himself by my side, so close I can feel the heat of his body.

“She’s a fighter,” the newcomer says.

Recognition zips through me like an eclectic shock.

He cocks his head and the black gashes on his mask glint under the moonlight. “You sure you can handle her?”

The other recruit with the dotted mask flips him off. “I’ll do more than handle her. I’m going to fuck the fight right out of her.”

I retreat a step. The action has both men shifting their attention to me. Despite the tremors wracking my limbs, I stand there, keeping my head held high. “Why don’t you guys fuck each other? I’m sure your holes are tighter than mine.”

The newcomer laughs. “This bride is definitely mine.”

“Fuck off, X. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you have her.” He looks at me with a narrowed gaze, his eyes blazing. “After I’ve stretched every one of her holes.”

“No names,” Xavier says, a hint of warning in his voice. “That’ll cost you.” He turns his head to stare deep into my eyes. “Run, little raptor. I’m coming for you.”

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