That leaves me between Emory and Reyn.
How appropriate.
The room is small, musty, and old. There are no windows, but the arched ceiling makes it a little less claustrophobic. Candles are scattered around the room, giving everything a hazy glow. I don’t miss the Preston Prep memorabilia on the walls, some faded with time. There’s little doubt that we’re in some kind of Devils time capsule. As I take in the room and the people in the circle with me, my eyes meet Reyn’s for a blink before he looks away.
Emory addresses the room. “As you know, the Devils at Preston Prep have been a long-standing tradition. But you may not realize that it started as something very different than the group it was when it was disbanded last year. Originally, it was a club for both guys and girls, and we’ve been invited by an anonymous alumni to restart the group under the original doctrine. There’s an initiation process, rituals and rites. The four of us who were already Devils will still have to go through these with you, so this is even-footing, got it?”
“Headmaster Collins shut you down,” Afton pipes in. “What makes you think he won’t do it again?”
“Because he’ll never find out,” Reyn replies, and if his tone is dark with warning, then the way his eyes pass over each person is da
rk with threat.
It’s a threat he looks like he could definitely deliver on.
Emory holds up a leather book—the one I saw in his hands the other night with Reyn. “There are six guys, six girls, and six rituals. When we complete the rituals, we’ll be full members, bonded by sacrifice, experience, and legacy. There are other Devils out there, other societies—it’s far-reaching—and when we finish, all of their access and influence will extend to us.”
Slowly, the treasure trove of what Reyn is giving me starts to unfold. Preston Prep may seem like it’s doing better, like they’ve taken a stand, but underneath it all—literally underground—nothing has changed. I don’t miss what Emory isn’t saying, that we’re re-creating Devils and their Playthings.
Holy shit.
I’m about to become a Plaything.
What does that mean? He said perverted, right?
“What will keep someone from telling?” Tyson asks, unaware that I’m panicking. “You know how easy it is for shit to get around.”
“Insurance,” my brother says, holding up his iPhone. “The first ritual starts tonight.”
“What is it?” Ben Shackleford asks, revealing that even the incumbent Devils are in the dark about this.
Emory’s grin transforms into something wicked. “Each of us confessing our biggest sin on video, of course.”
“What?” Aubrey says, eyes wide as saucers. “No way.”
“Yeah-way, Aubrey. All of us.”
Georgia might be the younger like me, but might also be the wisest. “That’s stupid, Hall. Phones and clouds can be hacked. How are you even going to keep that safe?”
Carlton adds, “And how are we supposed to know that others are actually telling their biggest sin?”
Caroline agrees, “We could just make something up.”
Emory only looks mildly annoyed. “First of all, this isn’t connected to a cloud. Even the FBI can’t get into one of these things. Secondly, you’re right. You could make something up. I wouldn’t know any better. But you know who would?” He levels everyone with a hard look. “The people in charge of this have eyes and ears.”
I shiver at that thought, and it looks like Afton and Aubrey do the same.
Sebastian smirks, though, seemingly unfazed. Reyn stands with his arms crossed, still as a statue. There’s no doubt everyone in this room has a secret. Including me.
Emory makes eye contact with each of us, mine a beat longer than everyone else. I know my brother doesn’t want me here but Reyn talked him into it. It’s obvious that starting with the first ritual, everyone will be forced to reveal something about themselves they don’t want everyone to know.
Me? I’ll be forced to tell my brother that I’m not the girl he thinks I am.
10
Reyn
Look at all these people, squirming. Sitting with a group of my peers sharing my biggest sin? Please.