The Third Lie's the Charm (9 page)

“Holy sh…” But before I could spit out the rest, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Taylor.

Headquarters. 6 a.m. Emergency Meeting.

“Shit.” I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked at Liam.

“Yeah, yeah. What happens if you don't show? Will the queen have you beheaded?”

I gritted my teeth. He had no right. “First off, that was a private text. Second off, she's not my queen and you have no idea how any of this even works. If you'd just take a minute and let me…” But I stopped myself right there. I didn't owe Liam an explanation anymore. He didn't get a vote about where I went and what I did. I grabbed the yearbook and made my way toward the stairs.

“I'm trying, Kate. Trying to be your friend. But it's not working. I'm sorry.”

I tried to think of a good response, but I came up completely empty. He was trying and I was being a huge bitch. No way around it. No way under it. Only thing I could do was get through it. To figure out who killed Alistair and to end the Sisterhood. Based on this most recent snippet of information, it looked like I might get lucky and end up killing two birds with one stone.

“I'm sorry too.” I turned around to look at Liam. I had to say this face to face. “But maybe we're just not meant to be friends right now.”
Maybe
we're meant to be more. And maybe after I figure all of this crap out, I'll actually be able to give it to you.
I couldn't bring myself to say the words to him because I knew five seconds later I'd be thinking about Bradley-freaking-Farrow and would be more confused than ever. I had some major work to do before I'd be ready to say anything out loud.

We made our way slowly, silently up the stairs, only to find that Mrs. LuvR had Seth cornered in the kitchen and appeared to be trying to feed him some type of quiche. The fact that Seth had his lips pursed and his head turned to the side spoke volumes about his mental state. The word “Victim” should have been written across his forehead like a bull's-eye. Poor guy.

“C'mon, Seth. We've gotta go.”

Seth ducked under one of Mrs. LuvR's outstretched arms and sprinted to the front door. “OkThanksForEverythingBye!” By the time I made it outside to the Jeep, Seth was panting in the front seat, buckled in and ready to go.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah, I've got it right here.” I slid into the backseat.

“And?” Seth swiveled around to face me in the backseat.

“And…it's a picture of Sinclair and Ms. D.”

“Shut. Up.”

Liam threw open the door and started the car without saying a word.

“Now what?” Seth asked.

“Now I go to the Sisterhood and I find out what the hell is going on.” I waved my phone in Seth's direction. “They've called an emergency meeting first thing in the morning, and I'd bet my nonexistent trust fund it's about what happened to Alistair and Sinclair.”

Liam sped silently to my house. Every shift of the gears felt like an accusation. Seth must have picked up on the tension in the car because he never asked a single question, just did a lot of heavy mouth breathing from the passenger side.

When Liam finally ripped up the parking brake, I scrambled out of the car.

Seth looked worried. “Be careful. We worry, you know.”

“I'll be fine. Promise.” I took off into the garage. It was only a few yards, but it felt like miles. I wanted to look back at them so badly, but I knew I'd crumble if I did. Seth had this weird way of stripping me down and making me feel vulnerable. He didn't care about looking cool or impressing anyone; he just said whatever he felt. It was unnerving, and unnerving was pretty much the last thing I needed.

And Liam. I'd broken his heart tonight. And mine too. Looking back was pretty much the worst thing I could do for either of us at this point. I reminded myself that there was only one way out of this thing, and that was through. And the more I found out about Alistair and the Sisterhood, the more I realized that this might be something I'd have to get through alone.

As I peeled my eyes open in the morning, I cursed stupid Taylor and her stupid 6 a.m. emergency meetings with her stupid secret society. Uttering one word to someone before 7 a.m. should be illegal. I couldn't fathom why anyone would intentionally schedule an important meeting where they actually expected people to converse fluently at six in the morning.

A too-hot shower helped a little. Coffee a little more. By the time I made it back to campus, I felt semi-human. I breathed deeply before throwing my weight into the door of the clock tower. My first official Sisterhood meeting lay ahead of me, and I had no idea what to expect.

The old stone walls were covered with pictures of students who had won the prestigious Time Keeper award, and I flipped over prim-looking Veronica Garvey's photograph. She looked a little like pre-makeover Sandy from the movie
Grease
, and I suspected that was one of the reasons Taylor had selected her. After all, Taylor was pretty much the modern-day equivalent in all of her blond, blue-eyed, perpetual-stick-up-her-ass glory. After punching in the code
abscondito
, “secret,” a new trapdoor hidden between the planks of the floor popped open and I began my descent into the bowels of Pemberly Brown.

The tunnels have always freaked me out. Ever since learning about the catacombs in Paris in World History when I was a first-year, I could never quite shake the feeling that the walls were lined with the bones of previous Pemberly Brown students. It was impossible not to feel like someone was watching you when you walked down the rickety steps and descended into the dimly lit underground where every footstep echoed and it was at least ten degrees cooler. Not to mention that these tunnels and me? We had a history. And it wasn't really a happy one.

As I turned the corner, I saw the exact spot where Alistair had tackled me and I had stabbed him with one of the swords stolen from the Sisterhood's headquarters. After that, I passed the spot where Liam had been knocked unconscious. And then finally the door to the headquarters where almost six months ago, I had believed I would find my best friend, Grace. Alive and well.

But instead I found Taylor. The Sisterhood. Instead, I found the truth.

And this morning I had to face it all over again. I had to press the buttons on the massive oak door and swing it open and walk back into the belly of the bitch.

Push
through.
I pressed the code.
Push
through.
I held my breath.
Push
through.

The first thing that struck me as the door clicked open was the sheer number of girls in the room. The Sisterhood wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination. Twenty-one girls total. But having them all in the headquarters at the same time—legs strewn across leather couches, hair streaming over the high backs of antique wood chairs, the high-pitched buzz of excited female voices all talking at the same time—was striking.

For a girl who had spent the better part of her year hanging out with a couple of dudes, it was all a little overwhelming.

Taylor was standing behind a podium, and the instant she saw me walk through the door, she rapped her tiny bejeweled gavel three times. The room went completely silent.

“Now that we are all present…” She shot another pointed look in my direction. I twisted Grace's pearls nervously. “I'd like to call this meeting to order.” She lowered her eyes for a second, concentrating, and then lifted her long lashes. “
Una
simus
,” she said. “We are together.”

“
Una
simus
,” we responded at once.

“
Tenemur
,” Taylor continued. “We are bound.”

“
Tenemur
,” we repeated.

“
Sumus
sorores
,” she finished. “We are sisters.”

“
Sumus
sorores
.” The words filled every inch of the space, and I let the meaning wash over me. We are sisters.

I
am
a
traitor
, I added silently.

“In light of recent events, Headmistress Bower has asked that I clarify our stance on interactions with members of the now-defunct society, the Brotherhood.” Taylor took a deep breath and looked around the room, slowly locking eyes with each and every member. “Sisters are not to have any interaction with former members of the Brotherhood. We are unsure of who or what is behind the recent tragedy involving Alistair Reynolds and ex-Headmaster Sinclair, but rest assured the school's administration is working toward a resolution.

“Now that we, the Sisterhood, are the sole surviving society at Pemberly Brown, we have an obligation to our peers and students to keep our school safe, so if you have any information as to who might be involved with this accident, we ask that you report directly to me or the Headmistress. Thank you.”

Taylor rapped the gavel again and the girls in the room began to disperse. But not before Naomi's voice rose above all the others.

“Wait,” she said, raising a hand and standing. A hush spread over the room, and it became clear that no one usually spoke during these meetings unless they were holding a gavel. Eyebrows raised and eyes widened. “I know Headmistress Bower wants us to stay out of this, but Alistair was my brother's best friend. It's just wrong to ignore it.” Naomi lowered her chin and breathed deeply as though she was fighting emotion. “No one wants to talk about Conventus, but can't we work together? Can't we protect each other? Why does it have to be one or the other?”

I couldn't imagine how hard it was for Naomi to say the words, for her to put her own position in the Sisterhood at such risk, but I gave her credit. No one ever questioned these things, barely ever questioned Taylor or the headmistress or anyone in power, and she'd suffer for it.

Taylor opened her mouth to respond, but Bethany walked forward instead, her shoulder pushing Taylor slightly to the side, a bold move. “Naomi, everyone knows where
you
stand. Taylor's explained where
we
stand. Take it or leave it.”

A few whispers followed and the room cleared, leaving a stunned Naomi at the center, radical ideas and all. I began to move toward her but was stopped by a strong hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, Kate!” Bethany squeezed my shoulder a little too tightly. “Just wanted to make sure you really understand the meaning of our little meeting. You need to stay away from your little boyfriends, mkay?”

“I'm assuming you mean Liam?”

Bethany's cheeks went pink, and for a second, she actually looked kind of adorable, but half a second later, pink deepened to red and she was back to her terrifying self.

“I mean, boys. Did I stutter? Right now, they're
all
the enemy. So watch yourself, because we'll be watching you.” As she turned on her heel, her thick brown hair whipped across my face.

I had the sudden urge to do a fake shiver and say, “Ooh, I'm so scared,” like we used to in lower school. But considering the fact that my finger was already tapping a text to Bradley on my way out of the tunnels, I figured I'd give her a break. After all, actions always spoke louder than words.

“And nice try, Naomi.” Bethany spun and flashed her teeth. “You saw where Conventus got your brother. Wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you, now would we?”

I half expected her to disappear in a cloud of green, wicked-witch smoke, but she just shot us another syrupy smile and walked away.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “I swear. I don't know why I even bother.” I wondered the same thing. “But seriously, ignore her. She's probably just nervous about her big date tonight.” Naomi linked her arm through mine.

“Date?”

“Yeah, she finally worked up the nerve to ask out Liam. I thought she cleared it with you first. It's Sisterhood policy.” A trace of concern leaked into Naomi's voice.

“Oh, yeah. She did, actually. I'm just kind of…” My mind searched for the words to describe my feelings aside from maniacal anger. “Surprised. I mean surprised that it's so soon. I didn't realize she'd actually gotten around to asking him.”

“She texted him last night, and supposedly he seems like he's into it.” Naomi informed me in a helpful tone.

“Well, that's just super.” I tried to control my sarcasm, but it was hard. Last night, Liam was with me. We had a moment. He tried to talk to me. But I'd shut him down. Again.

So maybe it wasn't exactly surprising that he'd decided to start dating again. Especially after watching me kiss Bradley. But it was shocking that he'd agree to have anything to do with Bethany. She was everything that he hated about Pemberly Brown. And apparently, now she was also his date.

Naomi grabbed my hand and led me through the heavy door back into the tunnels, and I decided that if my life had a soundtrack, it would sound like a super-depressing song from
Les
Mis
mixed with the music that accompanied the stabbing scenes in
Friday
the
13th
. Too bad I could never seem to find my rhythm.

It's bad. Come 2 planetarium.

Not exactly a text I was prepared for at 6:26 a.m. Especially not from Bradley when I was walking underground with his sister.

“Crap.” I stopped and looked down at my phone. Naomi turned around, concerned. “I forgot my Econ essay at home. I have to go get it before first bell.” I turned to head back toward the headquarters. “I'll exit at the gardens. It's closer.”

“Oh, okay. I'm sure I'll see you at Open,” Naomi said, buying my lie. I just prayed her brother hadn't sent her the same text. “But Kate?”

I stopped walking and turned back toward her.

“You knew about Bethany and Liam, right? The last thing I need is to start something with Bethany.” She looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course. It's not a big deal. Liam and I…” I stopped short, having no idea what needed to come next. I waved my hand instead. “I'll see you at Open.”

As soon as I heard the hatch shut with Naomi behind it, I rushed back toward the planetarium because it was faster. Huge mistake. It was cold and dark, and I kept expecting to feel someone's clammy hands grab me by the shoulders. I might as well have walked backward, I spent so much time twisting around, but then I worried what was behind me or in front of me or…you get the idea. My footsteps reverberated off the surrounding stone, tricking me into thinking I was being followed, sending shivers up and down my already freezing arms and legs. This better be worth it.

The hatch was heavy as I pushed up and emerged from underground. As my eyes adjusted, I realized the Sisters weren't the only fools to call a predawn meeting. Most ex-members of the Brotherhood stood around the vast room, grimaces stretched across their cocky faces, insults hurtled toward Bradley, who wore the saddest look of all.

“I know you think this is my fault after Conventus, but Dorian's in a coma. We've got to stop this.” Bradley's voice shook as the words tumbled out.
Dorian
.
Dorian
.
Did
he
mean
Clayton
Dorian? Second-year soccer star, green-eyed, blond-haired, sexy surfer-esque Clayton Dorian?
My air supply seemed to have been cut off all of the sudden, and my throat closed. I needed an inhaler or a shot of epinephrine or a new life.

“Dude, you got us shut down,” a fourth-year called.

“My brother was suspended,” a smaller kid in the back shouted.

After a few more minutes of accusing Bradley of being an incompetent fool, most of the guys just walked out, leaving a desperate-looking Bradley pacing at the front of the room. Only a couple of kids lingered.

“I heard Granger got a card like Alistair. But he refused to take the bait. And so they went after Dorian,” one of them said.

I sat back and did my best to process. Clayton Dorian was in a coma because Michael Granger had refused to perform a Factum Virtus. Whoever was behind this was making good on their threats.

“Please, if any of you get a card, come to me. We'll figure this out together,” Bradley was begging.

“Whatever. You're not in charge anymore, Farrow. The Brotherhood is dead.” They all started to walk out after that. I waited for the last of the guys to leave before approaching Bradley.

“What now?” Bradley's entire face sagged. His eyes were bloodshot and his complexion waxy. He just shook his head slowly back and forth. I could tell he hadn't nearly begun to grieve the loss of his best friend, let alone digest the fact that another Brother was barely clinging to life. In that moment, I could read his mind. It was easy because there was really only one question left: “Who's next?”

Bradley silently walked out the doors of the planetarium and back toward main campus. Dew scattered across the endless manicured greens of Pemberly Brown like tiny diamonds. I almost expected them to crunch under my toes as I chased behind him.

If the tone permeating the halls of Pemberly Brown was somber before, it veered into dangerously depressing territory after the news about Clayton spread. The counselors had been busy enough after Alistair; now they were inundated. It was clear that something bigger was at play.

I trailed Bradley in the hall as students moved aside to let him through, and I was reminded of the days following Grace's death, after I'd returned to school to find clear paths in the hallway, averted eyes, and whispers following me around like a second shadow. I hadn't missed any of it. And at first, I thought it was happening all over again. I thought they were all looking at me. Whispering about me. I had to assume my new flaming-red hair was whisper worthy. But it was Bradley they tracked. Bradley they whispered about. Bradley's eyes they couldn't quite meet.

My pang of relief felt like a betrayal.

Bradley turned his head slightly but never stopped walking. I could barely keep up. “We raid her office. Tonight. Bring that kid who works there.”

“Wait!” I slowed. “Ms. D.'s office?” I whispered her name and stopped in the hallway even though Bradley kept walking. He needed to slow down. He needed to wait for me. He needed to stop. “And Seth?”

He didn't even bother turning around this time. Just nodded his head once and turned the corner, leaving me standing very much alone. Kids filled the path they'd cleared minutes before, and life at Pemberly Brown went on. Because like it or not, that was just how life rolled.

***

I climbed into Seth's mom's gigantic white van with its ridiculous stick figure family affixed to the back windshield, featuring a stick mom with an apron (gag), a stick dad with a briefcase (lame), and a stick boy kicking a soccer ball, even though I was 99 percent sure Seth hadn't played soccer a day in his life. They must have been all out of the stick figure geeking out in front of a computer screen. I glanced over at Seth and saw nothing but a shock of red hair and a pale white face. He was covered in some sort of head-to-toe black suit. Footies? I didn't ask.

“Camo,” Seth said as he backed down my long driveway. As if I didn't know.

“Comfy,” I replied, choking back a laugh. I turned around automatically, muscle memory, looking for Liam, waiting for one of his ever-present one-liners. But his captain seat was empty, and my heart sunk a little. He was probably on his date.

When we made it to Station 1 at the entrance of the school, the closest entry point to Ms. D.'s office via the underground tunnels, Bradley came into view. His perfect features were lit by the glow of the surrounding street lamps, and I let myself forget Liam for the time being. Bradley offered me his hand and I took it. Maybe this was better. Maybe I was supposed to be with someone who was able to understand me and my grief. Maybe Liam was better off with Bethany.

“You know the code, right?” he asked, running his fingers over the bronze plaque fixed to one of the large brick pillars that flanked the school's main doors.

I nodded and counted four (the number of original sisters) bricks over and eight (the number of sisters invited by the original) bricks down from the plaque. I pulled at the loose brick to reveal a small keypad, the bronze keys green with time. Something rustled behind us, and the rhythm of my already pounding heart jumped, thrumming throughout my entire body.

“What was that?” I whispered, jerking my head toward the sound. Seth assumed a ninja-like position against the wall, and Bradley's ears had perked up, his eyes narrowed on the great expanse of black behind us.

We all saw movement at the same time. Two bodies, one slumped against the other.

This was it. The Sisterhood had me. I'd be excommunicated. I was fraternizing with the enemy and I'd be punished.

“Um…help?”

The soft voice was not Taylor's and definitely not Bethany's. It was Maddie's, and when she came into view, she practically carried one very drunk Liam Gilmour. Seth darted over, catlike in his little black suit, and offered a shoulder.

“I'm sorry. I found him in his car and I was afraid he'd drive, and Seth mentioned you'd be here, and I had nowhere else to go. I'm sorry.” Maddie pushed a strand of her crazy hair away from her face after she'd been relieved of the Liam lump.

Bradley rolled his eyes. My cheeks were on fire, and Liam smiled, big and sloppy. Perfect, just perfect.

“Guess the big date went well.” I tried to look annoyed, but my heart wasn't in it. Better to have him here than out with her. It was selfish and nasty, but that's how I felt. Bradley caught me staring at Liam and laced his fingers through my own. When I yanked my hand away, I told myself it was because we needed to hurry and I was the one who had to punch in the code.

We were going in.