Sweet Deceit (Privilege 4)

The interrogator lifted his head. He crossed his arms over his chest. Ariana’s pulse raced in her veins. What was she supposed to do here? She had promised Kaitlynn that she would help her get into Stone and Grave, but she was at a loss as to how to help her through this. There was no doubt in her mind that the membership would be pissed off if she spoke out of turn. And even if she could do that, what would she say? There was no way to defend Kaitlynn’s refusal to answer their questions. What was she thinking?

The ominous silence continued. This was it. They were going to throw the history-free Lillian Oswald out on her ass. Ariana could feel it. She glanced over at Jasper and he was already looking at her—smirking—like, Who does this girl think she is?

Again, a very difficult question to answer.

Finally, the interrogator turned toward the membership. There was a flutter of sleeves. Something flashed in the dark. Ariana narrowed her eyes to try to see, but as quickly as she’d spotted it, it was gone.

The interrogator faced Kaitlynn again. Ariana held her breath.

“We appreciate your loyalty to family,” he said, “and deem your answer acceptable.”

Kaitlynn smiled. Ariana rocked back on her heels, shocked.

Crisis averted . . . for now, at least.

MADAME PRESIDENT

Allison’s interrogation seemed to take an eternity. She recited her entire family line, the smirk on her face indicating that the brotherhood should be impressed by the number of dukes she was related to.

Ariana was so preoccupied with her own interrogation that she could barely focus on Allison’s answers. The burlap felt as if it had developed a million tiny sets of teeth, all of which gnawed interminably at Ariana’s skin. Sweat poured down her spine and sluiced along the backs of her bare legs. Her breath grew shallow. Any second she was going to rip the damn sack off and scream like she was on fire.

And then, finally, it was over. The interrogator turned to the group. Again the rustle. The flash. He turned around again and looked at Allison.

“We deem your answers . . . unacceptable.”

Ariana’s head snapped to the right. Allison’s jaw dropped, her skin as white as snow.

“What?” Allison breathed.

“Kindly remove this one from the premises,” the interrogator said, flicking a finger in Allison’s direction.

Tw o masked figures swiftly dropped a black bag over Allison’s head.

“What? No! What did I say? You can’t just drag me out of here!” Allison shouted.

But drag her out they did. Tahira stepped out of line, her lips parted as if she was about to protest, but then Jasper grabbed her wrist and yanked her back before anyone could notice. Allison screamed and begged but didn’t struggle as they shuffled her out. The whole thing was over in about five seconds. Allison was gone, and Ariana was left standing in line with only four others, shaking from head to toe. What had Allison said that was so horrible? Her answers had seemed rote and clinicial, sure, but her lineage was impressive.

In the distance, there was a slam. And that was the end of Allison Rothaus’s time with Stone and Grave. Mercifully, the heat lamps were flicked off. Ariana’s skin cooled instantly, but just as suddenly she began to shiver in her own sweat.

Finally the interrogator slipped back into the crowd, disappearing among the other hoods, the other masks. Another figure emerged from the center of the group and everyone else quickly dropped down to their knees. Ariana looked frantically at Kaitlynn and Jasper. Were they supposed to bow too?

The figure paused before them. “I am Becky Sharp,” she said. “I am the president of the APH chapter of Stone and Grave.”

Ariana’s heart was in her throat. She knew that voice. The girl reached up, slipped her hood from her dark brown hair, and removed her mask.

Lexa Greene stood before them, her skin ruddy from being trapped inside her mask.

“The rest of you have passed this trial,” she said.

Ariana’s mouth was dry. Lexa was president of Stone and Grave? Lexa was president? Sure, everyone at APH bowed down to her—figuratively at least—on a daily basis. But when Lexa had slipped and told Ariana about Stone and Grave, she’d acted as if she was scared. As if they would throw her out—or worse—if they found out she’d talked. Had it all been a lie? Had her admission really been a “slip”?

“As your reward, the membership will now reveal themselves.” Lexa turned toward the group and raised her palms. “Brothers? Sisters? You may rise and remove your masks.”

The group rose and Ariana felt an itch of irritation at the bold display of Lexa’s power. But it was soon drowned out as the faces were revealed. Maria, Soomie, Palmer, Rob, and Christian all stood in a clump near the center of the group. Ariana’s heart beat with excitement. She knew it. She knew all these people were in. But it was still elating to have her suspicions confirmed. The interrogator turned out to be Micah Granger—a gangly, doofy class-clown type whom Ariana never would have been intimidated by in real life.

“And now, for your next task,” Lexa said with a wry smile.

She removed a stack of black envelopes from the belled sleeve of her robe and stepped forward.