Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
For a secret society meeting, it’s all very… well, ordinary.
At thirty minutes past midnight, we enter Dowry Hall. Students float in the dimly lit room. Piano music plays in the background, and servers pass glasses of champagne around while the students whisper among themselves.
The students are of all ages, but there are more unfamiliar faces than I expected. This must be a recruitment gathering.
My father and two professors huddle together. One is a tall, strict blonde woman—Professor Stark. The other is Professor Fairweather, a man two inches shorter than her, with gray hair that was once red.
I lean closer to Jun. “Do you know them?”
His gaze wanders to the three professors. “Barely. I think she teaches business, but I’m not sure.”
It’s a relief that none of my professors are here, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a part of the Order. There’s no saying how far the Order stretches, and I’m not foolish enough to underestimate them.
I sip my wine, listening in on snippets of the conversations.
One student says, “I scheduled my classes too early—”
Another says, “Hopefully, Professor Cruz will take it easy on me now that I’m part of his club—”
I snort. Doubtful.
Most conversations are about class, and a few bolder students even flirt with each other. It’s a normal gathering. Jun and I don’t have a problem blending in, but with his wings and horns on display, the students keep a wide berth from us.
His wings feel surprisingly comfortable curling around my back, like a shield between the rest of the party and me.
Jun leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “Are you eavesdropping?”
I turn my head to look at him. “Perhaps.”
“What are they saying? Anything interesting?”
“They’re mingling. We’ll need to keep attending these mixers if we want to get anything important out of them.”
“And we should talk to your father. I think making an impression on him is a good idea. How embarrassing would it be if your father didn’t pick you for his club?”
I narrow my eyes. “What is your problem?”
There’s a grin on his face as he leans away. “I don’t have a problem—and you shouldn’t look at me with so much hatred in your pretty brown eyes, mate.”
“How should I look at you, then?”
“Come on. I know you didn’t lose your ability to act.”
“Acting alongside you is impossible.”
But I’ve done it before, countless times. As much as I fight it, it’s always Jun and me at the top. We’re always side-by-side, however begrudging it may be.
“We both know that’s not the case.” His hand slips closer to mine, and with ease, our fingers intertwine.
I think he may be right—this feels easy. I decide to let him take the lead, and he does, tugging me toward the group of professors. None of the others has been bold enough to approach them, but thanks to my ties to my father, I don’t question it.
The students watch us with shock and awe as the older group offers polite smiles.
“Margaux!” My father’s smile is the biggest of all. “And Jun. How happy I am to see you could both make it.”
There’s a pin on his jacket—the very one that was on the most recent victim. My mouth goes dry. It takes several seconds for me to respond.
My father is involved in the murders. My father may be involved. My father is… probably involved.
I don’t know anymore.
“It’s a pleasure to be here.” Putting on my manners seems like the best course of action. “Is this a…mixer? For the Order?”
“Yes. It’s an opportunity for the students to get to know one another,” Professor Stark says. “But many of these students will not receive an invitation to join the Order at all. We are highly exclusive.”
I have a feeling it’s more, though. Between supplying drinks and my father’s impeccable hearing, they’re probably trying to get to know the students while remaining as detached as possible.
“And is there anything else on the agenda this evening?” I ask.
“I will give a speech shortly,” my father says. “Answers will come then, so be sure to stick around. Otherwise, you may mingle with the others. Enjoy yourselves. Relax. Drink. That is all we expect of you this evening.”
That’s all they want this evening… but they may expect more from us at some point. How many of these students will get sucked into what he has planned next?
“Thank you for putting this together.” I tug on Jun’s hand as I back away.
Everything about the evening is innocent.
Jun and I stand off to the side, listening in on the others.
My father stands at the front of the room, clinking against his half-empty champagne glass. “If you’re here today, we handpicked you because of your excellent grades and interest in uplifting our community—both the community of Strode and the supernatural community at large.”
I exchange a look with Jun.
The speech is typical, but there’s something more behind the words… something that may tie into the supernaturals outside of our school. It’s as I expected.
The problem at Strode is growing, and if we don’t get it under control soon, it may stretch to the rest of Castine… and beyond.
“This meeting is only the beginning,” my father says. “To be a part of this group, you must pass three trials.”
There’s a scattering of murmurs. Jun’s fingers weave with mine, surrounding me with his warmth, and he squeezes. Hard.
“Not everyone will make it through, but do not worry yet. This evening is the time to relax and enjoy each other’s presence. Drink and be merry. Make allies for the trials ahead of you. You’ve made it this far, and that is something to celebrate. So… celebrate.”
The students clap, polite but confused.
That’s it, it’s his entire speech. No clues, just tests, and trials…
If we’re going to stop this, we’ll have to perform in more ways than one. Tension sits between Jun and me until we finally leave.
I clasp his hand hard enough that he pulls it away, hissing.
“Watch it.”
“Sorry.” I cross my arms, taking a big step to the side. “I forgot my strength—or rather, I forgot that you’re weak.”
“I’m not fucking weak.”
“Who cares?” I let out a choked laugh. “Did you hear what he said in there? There are going to be trials. That means we can fail.”
“We can’t let that happen. We’re going to have to work together to make sure it doesn’t.”
“Oh, that’s impossible.”
“Your father won’t kick you out of his Order.”
“He may.”
“Margaux…” He takes my hand, stopping me in my tracks. When our eyes meet, his are dark and intense. “I’m serious. We’re a team now. Let’s act like it.”
My fingers tingle where he touches them. “…Fine.”
“Do you want to spend the night again?”
In another circumstance, I would read into his words, but thoughts of the night before come to mind. It means nothing. All we did was sleep, but having him nearby was comforting. As comforting as when his wings wrap around my back.
I shake my head. “There’s no need. Tobey and I made up.”
“That’s good.” He continues walking, heading to my dormitory. “I was going to make you take the couch tonight.”
“So much for acting like a team.”
“If we were a team… we would share the bed.” A wide grin appears on his face.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I don’t care. I still think something is going on with the Order.”
“I think that’s obvious at this point.”
“But, now I know my father is involved.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“The badge the professors were wearing… it’s my father’s sigil.”
My head jerks in his direction. “You know about the logo?”
“Strode’s symbol is a logo—this is a sigil. There’s a big difference.”
“How so?”
I already know the answer from my conversation with Caldwell, but perhaps Jun can tell me more.
“Sigils hold magical power. With the right magic, they can summon energy—or a demon, in this case. I know my father’s symbol by heart. I could feel his presence. It’s all around campus these days, but it was powerful in there. Overwhelming.”
We stop outside my dormitory, and I search his face. Jun—strong and intimidating—stands stiff now, wetting his lips, his chest rising and falling with urgency. Even now, with my father potentially being a part of it all, I can’t fathom being this terrified of my own parent.
“I… already know about the sigil,” I whisper. “I found one like it on the last victim, when we went back to look for clues.”
Jun has been so honest with me. He deserves the same from me, too.
He glares. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What the hell, Margaux?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it until today. Honest.”
“What the fuck ever.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Not the first time someone I’m supposed to trust kept something from me.”
Amelia. He must mean Amelia. He and I aren’t as close as they supposedly were, but he’s right. I need to be more trustworthy. And I will be.
“This must be hard for you,” I murmur. “Chasing down the Order, it must remind you of her.”
“Who gives a fuck? It’s harder for the dead people.”
“But it can still be difficult for you.”
“Sure. Fine. It’s been a shitty school year,” he says. “First Amelia, now this…”
“I’m sorry about her. I know how hard it is to lose a friend.”
Because his friend Amelia killed mine, but I can empathize with Jun nevertheless.
“Don’t.” His voice is tight. “She was the killer. It needed to happen.”
“Sure, but it can still hurt.”
“And it does.”
“I can imagine.”
“She and I were, uh”—he looks away from me, his jaw tightening—“together, I guess. More than friends. If you didn’t know. Most people didn’t.”
My eyes widen. “What? Really?”
My stomach is sour, twisting, shrinking. Poor Jun. He didn’t lose a friend. It was more. People not knowing about their relationship makes it harder, and his confession adds an extra layer to the mystery.
Caldwell’s visions made it seem like there was something between Poppy and Amelia, too. There’s no way Amelia was planning on killing Jun next… right?
I shudder. As much as I despise him, I can’t imagine not having him around. Never doing another play with him. Never bickering with him. And now, I can’t imagine not having his help with the Order.
“That’s how I know about all of this,” he says. “About the Order and your father’s involvement. About my father’s involvement. She told me everything.”
I narrow my eyes. “Then you lied about the dream?”
“Yeah, okay. There was no dream. We’re even now. We both lied.”
I nod. For once, I can bite back the urge to argue with him. Jun has information, and I want to hear it.
“Amelia was doing the trials herself last year. She wanted me to join too, but I wouldn’t.”
“That’s what you were keeping from me—aside from, well, everything else.”
I don’t care about the lies anymore. How can I? It makes sense now. Jun wouldn’t share his source, but I should have known better. Tobey was right, for once. Amelia was involved.
“I wasn’t keeping anything from you.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” I ask evenly. “I wouldn’t have judged you for being involved with her, and this is more evidence that the Order is involved in the murders.”
“I’m sorry. It’s fucking hard to talk about her. I thought you would get that.”
I hesitate, my defenses lowering as quickly as they came back up. “I do. Trust me, I do.”
“It’s more than just talking about my dead girlfriend. It’s fucking embarrassing. We were together. I loved her. But I didn’t know that she was the killer, and what the Order was really up to. She was trying to get me to join them, and now…”
“What is it?” I soften my voice.
“Did she ever love me, or was she trying to trap me in her cult?” He shakes his head. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”
“It’s not.”
But I don’t have an answer for him. He’s right. Knowing what little I know of Amelia, I’m unsure if she could have loved anyone—at least, considering who she was by the end of it all.
“I told you now, and it doesn’t change anything.”
“Not really, but…” I glance up at the dormitory, gaze drawn to my dormitory window. “It may convince the others to see the merit of our plan.”
“I guess that’s something.”
“And it makes me trust you more.” I return my attention to him. “That’s something, and I intend to be worthy of your trust as well.”
I don’t find it in myself to thank him for telling me the truth. But when we part ways, it feels like we’re closer.