22. VERENA GRAVENHURST
TWENTY-TWO
VERENA GRAVENHURST
The Apparition by Sleep Token plays low throughout Reed’s car as he hauls us towards the opposite side of town.
Talking has been minimal between us, and I still have no idea where he’s taking me, but he seems calmer now than he had been when we left the academy.
He sits relaxed behind the wheel, one hand keeping the car steady, the other gently gripping my thigh, keeping me steady.
I admire the view beyond the window as buildings give way to sprawling trees and flowers in bloom.
The early spring sun is just beginning to bleed into the horizon, basking Hollowcrest in a soft orange glow.
Warmer weather is becoming more and more frequent these days, though it’s been raining just as much.
I roll my window down to enjoy the view more clearly, allowing my thoughts to drift off into a place of peace it rarely has the fortune of visiting.
The soft breeze brushes against my cheeks, and I close my eyes against it, savouring the moment.
Time seems to slip away from me, and before I know it, Reed is turning onto a gravel road.
It crunches loudly beneath the tires, and I glance at the sign to my right.
Ashbourne Estate. Ashbourne? Like…Madison Ashbourne?
My eyes flick to Reed, and I’m about to ask him why the hell we’re at the residence of Satan herself, when she and Jenkins stroll towards us.
Madison’s blonde hair flows loosely over the front of her black low-cut blouse, her cleavage pushed up so high, it looks like it might just strangle her.
She pairs her top with black leggings and black ankle boots—clothing fit to blend in with the shadows of the night.
Anxiety pools in my stomach, a bad feeling washing through me as they approach the vehicle.
Jenkins’ outfit is also more casual than I’m used to seeing him in—a shirt of a band I don’t recognize, that looks like he took a pair of scissors to the sleeves, cropping it into a beater.
Madison laughs at something Jenkins said and bumps into his shoulder, but when her sights land on me, occupying Reed’s passenger seat, her expression becomes sullen.
Her eyes narrow on me, and she whispers something into Jenkins’ ear, which has him avert his gaze to me.
I pick at the polish on my nails, my discomfort written across my face.
They approach Reed’s open window, and Jenkins rests his elbows over it, scowling.
“What the hell is she doing here, Sullivan?”
Reed doesn’t dignify that question with an answer; he simply says, “Get in.”
Madison stands behind him with her arms crossed. Jenkins holds his stare on Reed, then finally pushes away from the window.
“Fine. It’s your funeral,” he says to Reed and slides into the backseat, Madison right behind him.
Reed begins to drive, and I’m still as still as can be, slumped in my seat. The energy within this cab is heavy and suffocating, and I find myself trying to remember to breathe.
“The old man should be sleeping by the time we arrive, rumour has it he’s hard of hearing, so we should be able to get in and out no problem,” Jenkins speaks so casually, like we were already mid-conversation.
“What about the locks? Did you bring the tools?” Reed asks, peering at Jenkins through the rear-view mirror. Madison holds up her purse, giving it a shake.
“Got’em.” Reed nods. I have no idea what any of them are talking about, but I don’t ask. I don’t speak at all in fear of the response I’ll get from any one of them. If my gut is right, though, we’re headed to do something we likely shouldn’t be doing.
Reed turns off the headlights, and we roll forward in silence, parking the car just outside a home minutes away from the academy.
It’s hard to see in the dark, but it looks to be a manor with elegant brass detailing and a dark stone exterior.
It’s a little on the smaller side for a manor, but a manor nonetheless.
Reed shifts his body in his seat, twisting around to face each of us.
“We should split up into groups of two,” Reed suggests, and meets my gaze.
He must see the confusion in my eyes, but he doesn’t stop for a moment to explain what’s going on.
“I’ll take Veronica,” Madison spouts, and I almost laugh, yeah fucking right.
Reed fixes her with a glare. “It’s Verena, but you knew that.”
Madison rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Ren and I will take the east wing, Madison and Jenkins—you take the west. Stay out of sight, move quietly and efficiently. Remember the task at hand, and for the love of God, don’t fuck it up.”
“Hear that? Don’t fuck it up,” Jenkins speaks directly to me, and I grind my teeth, urging myself to keep my mouth shut.
We exit the vehicle, and I immediately trudge over to Reed, desperate to know what we’re about to do.
He closes his door quietly and slinks an arm over my shoulder, leading us up the driveway to the front door, still unwilling to divulge any information.
We all stand in silence as Jenkins tinkers with the lock, waiting to hear the click that tells us we’re in.
It takes only a moment, but once the door is unlocked, we shuffle in one by one, quiet as a mouse, to not disturb the homeowner.
A prickle of something I can’t quite name travels under my skin.
Something akin to excitement, but tinged with fear all the same.
We split up as instructed, Reed and I taking to the east wing of the manor, finding an office, littered with papers and documents around the room.
“Sullivan, what the hell are we looking for?” I whisper, but he doesn’t respond; he holds a finger up to his lips, indicating I should stay silent while he searches. If he would just tell me, I’d be able to help him find whatever the stubborn man is looking for.
Gazing upon the collection of small trinkets atop a credenza at the far end of the room, I sigh, trying to keep myself busy and not feel like I’m in the way.
I look up at the portraits that line the walls.
An older couple with kind eyes holding hands in the middle of town.
The same couple years later, with their children, posing for a family portrait.
Their grandchildren as babies, cradled in their arms. My heart squeezes, thinking about all of the missed opportunities that could have been with my own grandparents.
I look at the last photo on the wall and squint my eyes to properly focus in the dim light.
I gasp, not wanting to believe the familiar face that stares back at me.
From the corner of my eye, I see Reed waving his hands from across the room.
He holds up a rolled document, grinning from ear to ear.
One can only assume that’s what he was looking for.
I open my mouth to confront Reed about the photo before me, but still as the sound of approaching footsteps can be heard, nearing us.
My eyes widen, panic surges through me, and I search my surroundings for a way for us to escape, but there’s no such luck.
Reed hurries to my side and takes my hand, pulling me to the doors of a closet nearby.
He pulls the doors behind us slowly and wraps his arms around my body, holding my back to his chest. I peer out through the small slits of the door, holding my breath in wait, adrenaline pumping through me at the idea of getting caught trespassing in a stranger’s house after midnight.
The lights in the room flick on, and a gasp leaves me unexpectedly.
Reed’s hand covers my mouth, silencing me, before we are found.
Through the slits, I can see a pair of slippers shuffling into the room.
“Hello?” the voice of an older man echoes about.
“Is someone there?” he asks, and instinctively, I push my body back into Reed, terrified that the man is going to hear my rapidly beating heart from the other side of the doors.
Reed groans against the crook of my neck, and I feel the hard length of his cock pushing up against my back.
Is he serious right now? I scowl at him, though he can’t see my face in the darkness that surrounds us.
The old man sighs and turns the light off, retreating to wherever he came from.
I spin around and smack Reed on the arm. “What is wrong with you!” I whisper-yell.
He chuckles. “What? I can’t help it.” He shrugs and opens the doors before us.
We hurry over the door, light as a feather with our footwork and peer down the hall.
The coast is clear. We make a run for it, beelining our way back out the front door and into the open air.
Reed grips my hand tight, sprinting through the night, grinning wide like he’s enjoying the thrill of what we’ve done.
We make it back to the vehicle before Madison and Jenkins, and wait outside, scouring the grounds for any sight of them.
Reed begins to pace and walk up and down the end of the driveway.
I notice the scroll of papers he had found in the office fall from his pocket and roll in my direction.
Reed’s attention is drawn to the manor, panic lacing his features for his friends who have yet to return.
Bending down quietly, I so casually pick them up and tuck them into my jacket pocket.
If Reed wants to continue keeping secrets from me, I’ll start keeping secrets of my own.
Just then, we see a light turn on, illuminating a large room in the manor.
Reed palms the sides of his head, the stress of the night finally taking a toll on him.
“Get in the car!” we hear Jenkins shout our way and catch sight of him running down the driveway as if his life depends on it.
Madison follows close behind, tripping over her two left feet, and I can’t help the smile that graces my lips at her struggle.
“Get in the fucking car! Now!” Jenkins shouts again, and we don’t hesitate.
We hop in the vehicle, and Reed starts the ignition, preparing the getaway for our great escape.
I have to admit, it’s completely thrilling not knowing what is going to happen next.
Once we’ve collected Madison and Jenkins, we peel off into the night, like fugitives on the run.
“Woohoo!” Reed cheers, laughing as we speed down the road. “That was great!” I smile; his excitement is contagious.
“Yeah, yeah, that was a hoot. Did you find the blueprints or not?” Madison drawls, and everyone falls silent.
Reed pats down his pockets while keeping one hand steady on the wheel.
His face pales, and the excitement it harboured moments ago is now replaced with undiluted anger.
“Fuck!” He slams his fist against the steering wheel, and we pull slightly to the right of the road.
He repositions us and flexes his jaw, his temper flaring at losing the papers.
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the fact that I have them hidden on my body.
“I knew you shouldn’t have let her come on this mission. A fucking distraction is all she is,” Jenkins mutters.
“Enough, Whitmore,” Reed snaps. His tone not to be challenged in the heat of his rage. We drive in silence the rest of the way to Jenkins’ house, where we drop him and Madison off without another word.
I think back to the portraits on the wall of the manor, and irritation begins to build within me.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I pull the keys out of the ignition, catching Reed by surprise.
Tossing them into the glove compartment, I twist in my seat, facing Reed and raise my brows.
“Mauve’s grandparents’ home? Really? Start talking, Sullivan.
What the hell was that all about? Why did we do that?
What’s so important about the blueprints?
” My questions come out in rapid fire, no longer able to control my tongue.
“Please, let me in. No more secrets. You brought me along with you tonight, involving me in whatever that was. I deserve to know the truth.” Reed doesn’t look at me; he faces forward and drags his hands down his face.
“You don’t understand the significance of what you’re asking me, Gravenhurst. Knowledge like this comes with a great deal of consequences.
” He drags his gaze to my face; his words are a warning, a final plea for me to drop it and let it go.
But that’s something I’m unable to do, and he can see it in my eyes.
I hold his stare, my expression unwavering, and he drops his head in defeat and exhales a long breath.
“The Hollow Iris Society,” he says and drags his eyes back to my face.
“A society? Like a secret society?” I perk up, my interest officially piqued. He nods his head in conformation.
“Hollowcrest Academy has been a home to the Hollow Iris Society for hundreds of years. Founded by the town’s five original families, they were and still are the most elite, powerful and well-respected individuals.
Our purpose is to carry on our ancestors’ legacies, fulfilling duties and crossing lines to keep our town in order, getting our hands dirty so others don’t have to.
” He pauses, taking a moment to gauge my reaction.
Mulling over his words, and then it dawns on me. “My grandfather’s been in this town his entire life, from what I know. Was he a member of this society, too?”
Reed nods. “He was. The Gravenhursts are one of the five founding families. You are a legacy.” I bite my lip, unsure of what to do with this information.
“What about Mauve’s grandparents? Why did you steal the scroll from their house?” I ask, needing to know the whole story.
Frustration flickers across his face again, and I know he’s remembering that he no longer has them. “The blueprints are of the academy tunnels, information sacred to the society that we needed to get back.” He huffs, and I stare at him for a moment.
“So you’re saying, this is the reason you’ve been acting so weird? Sneaking around and keeping me in the dark? Because of a secret club?” His jaw clenches at my words, seemingly not happy with my downplay of the importance of the society.
“As I said, you don’t understand the significance of what you’re asking me.
” His tone is annoyed, and his words are clipped.
He reaches over, opening the glove compartment and plucks the keys before I can nab them.
Starting the ignition and placing his hands on the steering wheel, he stares ahead for a long moment.
It begins to rain, the sound of the droplets hitting the windshield the only noise within the small space.
I’m about to speak to apologize for being so insulting, when he peers over at me and gives me a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s get you home, Gravenhurst.”