42. Rook
“I have something for you.”
We’d come to a stop at the back of the large mansion, where several limos were lined up, waiting for the men in gray suits to usher people inside, one car at a time.
It was the Shadows and Lace Soirée—the masquerade ball where Summer would officially be introduced as a member of the Magnolia to the society of Greybone Island.
The Veritas put up a big fanfare about their new recruits. One by one, they announced the new members, all women, accompanied by men who paid for their souls, presenting them in front of the crowd like a new adornment for their society.
I hated the procedure and, even though I was required to attend, would usually skulk in the shadows until I”d seen enough to leave their charade.
But tonight, Summer was my charge. Nothing mattered except for her. Helping her navigate through the ball, keeping my eye out for her safety.
The whole way here, she’d been staring out the limousine window, her eyes studying the tangle of moss hanging from the large oaks lining the road. Or the fog rolling in from the swamp, with stark glowing eyes from within—opossums, raccoons, or alligators.
But my voice had broken her from her spell, and her shoulders tightened as she turned towards me.
“Relax,” I breathed, and she shivered as my fingers brushed over her skin, moving her hair over her shoulder. Then kissed it. “Everything will be fine.” Pulling her gift from my pocket, I clasped it behind her neck. She glanced down at the necklace and froze.
My heart, the uncomfortable, tight feeling in my chest—anticipation and worry for what she thought—was foreign and strange. I didn’t like feeling this vulnerable.
“Rook.” Her voice was a whisper.
She finally looked up at me, wonder and awe and appreciation in her expression. “But how did you…?” She clasped her hand over the large diamond, her eyes framed by a delicately embroidered, black silk lace mask and matching rabbit ears.
My own matching wolf mask sat on the seat beside us.
“Where? How did you…My mom’s necklace…” she continued, not finishing.
“You happy?” I asked, my pulse still thundering.
“Beyond words…I don’t even know how to tell you…” she continued. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. I could never repay you for this.”
“It belongs to you.” I scowled at her need to ‘repay me’, but flicked her nose playfully, my chest humming with her approval. “It was your mother’s legacy to you.”
“But you found it, gave it back.”
The moment I’d discovered she’d pawned it to pay her real estate taxes, I’d immediately bought it, waiting for the right moment to return it to her.
She brushed her fingers lightly across my cheek. “Really. It means so much.”
“I know.” I clasped my hand over hers, turning it to kiss her palm. At the sound of the couple in front of us leaving their car, I drew her attention back to the task at hand. “Remember, don”t be fooled by what you see tonight. It’s a game, and we”re all playing our parts. They’ve given us the rules and demand we play. We may wear the masks, but tonight, we will win, not them. You trust me?”
She inhaled a deep breath, worry creasing her features at the reminder.
We both suspected Saul would make his move after tonight.
I’d still been feeding him small bits of information on the phone he gave Summer, holding him off for long enough. But his texts had become more and more threatening.
She slowly nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’ll give them my name. When they ask.”
She hesitated now, her, ‘yes,’ small and meek.
“That is not a question, Summer.”
She only nodded at me, a placative smile.
“Remember what I taught you. Take what you want in this life. This world is yours to command.” The limo door opened, but I didn’t move. Instead, I pinched her chin, forcing her eyes to me. “Summer. Promise me you will give them my name.”
She stared into my eyes, big beautiful blue ones I wanted to drown in—that I was already drowning in. She bit her lower lip, giving me a firm nod. “Yes.”
“That’s my good bunny,” I murmured, brushing my lips over hers softly, before putting on my own wolf mask. I stood, giving the man in the gray suit a stark look. He took a few steps back and, steeling myself for the night to come, I held out my hand and Summer took it.
I helped her out of the car.
She was stunning in her midnight purple gown. Cut low enough to show the curves of her cleavage, with the bottom layers of flowing tulle and lace magnolia flowers stitched into the design.
She gracefully moved with me as we entered the building, directed towards the Forsythe Antechamber, the room where everyone waited to be introduced. Even though her outward appearance was calm, I could tell by the way she was squeezing my hand that she was nervous.
“I’m here with you the whole way,” I whispered as we waited for our turn, putting my hands on her hips and tugging her to me so that I was all she could see. “Listen to me. Do exactly as I say. And everything will be perfect. Besides,” I brushed my thumb across her cheek, “you’re easily the most beautiful person in the room. The men and women will fall at your feet to be noticed by you.”
Her lips twisted in a small but nervous smile. “Stop.”
“Summer,” I commanded, my voice low and demanding, “you may be dressed as my little bunny, but tonight, you are a wolf in disguise. They want something from you, and that means you have all the power. You only have to take it. Use it. You are in control, not them.”
Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, straightening, her eyes hardening.
“Summer Duvall,” a loud voice boomed through the room.
She took in a deep breath and looked towards the entrance to the ballroom with a confident look. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Smiling at how much my little bunny had grown, I led her towards the large, arched doorway. Despite my words to her, I was watching everyone and everything. Nothing was safe here, despite the opulence of the room.
We stopped in front of Aldric Vortigern, the official bishop presiding over the Protestant churches of Lowcountry—where anyone who was anybody attended. A chill climbed up my back as I watched him make the sign of the cross over Summer. Though I had no dealing with the man, I never trusted him.
He mumbled a prayer while brushing his thumb, dipped in oil, across her forehead.
Fallon, who was dressed in his official cassock and without a mask, stood to the side of the bishop, a cold, indifferent look on his face. He didn’t look at me, or acknowledge Summer in any way.
A man stood next to him, holding an iPad and wearing a black plague doctor mask. It concealed his whole face and hair. He was the Lorekeeper, the man in charge of the official record keeping for the Veritas. His identity was kept a strict secret. He watched Summer carefully, then, once Bishop Vortigern was done, turned away and towards the next person behind us.
“Straighten your back and smile. Look people in the eyes.” I directed her as we stepped from the platform, down the stairs, and into the vast, sweeping ballroom. All eyes were on us. At my direction, she seemed to relax a little, though she was clutching my hand. But she moved gracefully, as if she was born for this. ”No one will hurt you,” I growled low, ”I”ll make sure of it.”
She inhaled a deep breath and nodded as a group of people gathered at the base of the stairs, looking up at her expectantly, whispering, ”I trust you.”
Satisfaction hummed through me, honored to have her trust.
As soon as we stepped from the stairs, I led her through the throng of people—men trying to capture her attention and women eyeing her enviously. I saw and felt everything, my gaze sweeping the room for Saul.
I spied Olivia Dubois standing in front of the group of girls of various ages, from as young as about five to early twenties.
They were beautifully dressed in expensive, elegant white dresses that reached up to their neck and down the length of their arms and legs. The younger ones wore silk masks over their eyes while the older ones’ faces were shrouded by ornate lace veils.
They exuded innocence. Virtue. Chastity.
My stomach churned at the sight, disgust filling me.
Maidens—the girls chosen to be brides to the men in the Veritas.
They were here on display for the public to see—for all to adore and worship. Some even came to stand before them, bowing or curtseying—as if they were royalty.
They were to be praised. Cherished. To remain untainted by the stain of worldly treasures.
Quiet. Obedient. Dulcet.
They lived their wholes lives in this protective shroud, waiting for the day they would marry.
Some time during the masquerade, the Maidens would be taken away. Led into a different place for a different ceremony—one kept secret, except for those involved.
For now, Olivia guarded them with a seriousness that revealed her staunch belief in the system with which she was embedded. Even though this was a formal event, she was still wearing her signature grey business suit.
Her sharp eye took in Summer, then she met my gaze, and gave me a single nod. There was pride in that look.
In her mind, she’d taken a chaotic little creature and turned her into something graceful and useful. She had no idea that Summer had only learned how to don her mask better.
I averted my gaze, turning my back to her coldly.
”Why, Miss Summer Duvall, I never thought I”d see the likes of you here.”
”Hello,” Summer answered with a tight smile.
”I didn”t think it was possible for you to be so beautiful, but I declare, you clean up good. Real good.”
Even though her cat mask covered her whole face, I recognized Caroline Dutton—the blonde looking for a husband at Douglass’ wake.
“Thank you,” Summer nodded politely, trying to walk off, but Caroline clasped her arm, forcing her to stop. ”You remember Mrs. Stetson?” Caroline nodded at the woman standing next to her—the same one who’d been with her at the wake. Easily recognizable with her grey hair pulled into a bun.
”Yes,” Summer”s voice was cold, ”I could never forget Mrs. Stetson.” Though she was respectful, Summer’s whole body was tense.
”Of course not,” Mrs. Stetson said stiffly, looking down her nose at Summer, “I’ve known you since you were a child.”
”I”m sorry to hear of your husband”s passing,” Summer sounded genuine. ”He was always nice to me.”
”Hmmph,” Mrs. Stetson’s thin lips pinched together, as if she disapproved of her husband”s kind behavior, and glanced away. “Of course he would die on me so soon. Before I was inducted into the society.”
Summer”s lips parted in surprise. ”I didn”t realize you were trying to get into the Magnolia.”
”Of course!” The elderly lady huffed, ”For all my life, but Reginald would never introduce me.” Mrs. Stetson may have a lineage that goes back for centuries in the south, but her family wasn’t wealthy. She”d always relied on her husband”s money for any kind of claims. The Veritas had required him to vouch for her, which, apparently, he hadn’t.
He was a lot smarter than she was willing to give him credit.
“But surely, as a new member,” Caroline cut in, a bright smile to her face, ”and the most beautiful one at that, you could vouch for two established members of the community, couldn”t you?”
Summer glanced at me, a smile frozen on her face but I could sense the apprehension underneath it.
To the public, the Magnolia was an exclusive and prestigious society. The people of Lowcountry had no idea of the dark underbelly that they admired and worshiped so much.
Summer bit down on her lip, glancing away, “I’m so new, I don”t think...”
As much as I wanted to throw these two women to the wolves, Summer seemed to want to keep them away from the dangerous society. She was too kind.
“Of course you can, darling,” Mrs. Stetson interjected, her tight, grey bun stretching her eyes in a pinched look. I think the woman hadn”t smiled in a hundred years.
They both crowded Summer, who took a step back and into my chest, her hand going to mine.
I clasped it tight and placed my other hand on her hip possessively. Giving her the support she needed, but letting her fight her own battle.
Caroline blinked, as if noticing me for the first time. ”Is that you, Rook Craven, through that wolf mask? Are you Summer”s chaperone tonight?”
“Her date,” I clarified.
Her eyes went to my hand, then, widening, went back to Summer. Then ping-ponged back to me with a look of incredulity. “You chose her?” You could hear the contempt in her voice.
“How could I not? She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.” Pulling off my mask and letting it drop to the ground—I was done with this charade—I turned Summer’s face to me, and kissed her. Slowly, gently, my whole attention on her and not caring about the gasps of disbelief.
“How dare you,” Mrs. Stetson squawked. “She’s too young for a man of your age.”
“Exactly,” Caroline agreed with a sneer, crowding us. “You should be with a more mature woman. Like me.”
I ignored them—as if I gave a shit what they thought—my whole attention on Summer’s lips. I tugged my fingers through her hair, then wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck possessively.
Summer was too good for this world—for these women’s desperate disdain—and they needed to learn their true place in society.
When I pulled back, Summer was smiling. Her whole face glowing with warmth. I tugged on her lower lip, murmuring as I stared into her eyes, “If you”ll excuse us, I”m a jealous man, and don”t want to share her attention with anyone.” I didn’t look at them as I spoke.
”But we were just starting to talk to her. Surely you wouldn”t deny us her attention for a little bit longer.” Caroline had gripped Summer’s arm, and her nails began to dig into her arm.
I grabbed her fingers, ripping them from Summer’s arm, and bent them backward. “Touch her again and I will break every single bone in your hand.”
“Mr. Craven!” Mrs. Stetson gasped, clutching at the pearls at her neck, “How dare you! Like a wild animal.”
“Mrs. Stetson, you have no idea,” I answered coolly.
Caroline”s eyes were wide with fear. I could easily snap her fingers, making them as crooked as her soul. I wanted to do it, the dark energy inside me surfacing. I didn’t look away from the woman, and her throat bobbed. Finally, she looked away—to Summer for help. “Is he serious?”
Summer met her gaze with fire in her eyes. “I think you don’t want to find out.”
Caroline”s mouth dropped in surprise.
I held my position until Summer looked at me, giving me a small nod. I released her, and Caroline heaved dramatically, her hand to her chest. Her cheeks were red with both embarrassment and anger, apparent even through her mask. Mrs. Stetson shook her head in disgust, tsking.
”Excuse me,” Summer stepped forward, causing them to stumble a few steps backwards. ”I would like to take Rook up on that offer to dance, or did your mother’s not teach you manners?”
“But,” Mrs. Stetson took an eager step forward, then back at my murderous look. “What about…”
“I’m not sure you would be a good fit for the Magnolia,” was all Summer said before she walked off without a backwards glance, leaving them shocked and disappointed in her wake.
They had no idea the grace and compassion Summer had in that denial.
”Those women,” she huffed, ”vultures.”
“You’re a better person than me,” I grumbled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I would love to watch the men in that society tear them to shreds.”
“Still. They don’t deserve it.”
“You just don’t know them well enough,” I disagreed. “They are so rotten inside, it bleeds through their facade. What you see in them is only the tip of the iceberg.”
“Maybe, but I couldn’t have that on my conscious. They’re not worth it.
I couldn’t agree more.