Sweet Deceit (Privilege 4)

Palmer blinked a few times. He plucked his sweatshirt off the floor and pulled it on. “Um . . . yeah. Sure. Landon’s at some record company meeting tonight.”

“Cool. Let’s go,” Ariana said, taking his hand.

“Okay,” Palmer said, still in a stupor.

Ariana led Palmer out of the room, leaving the camera behind, feeling giddy over the fact that it wouldn’t be recording the ending of this encounter, wherever it may lead. Feeling, for the first time in days, like she had the power.

NEW TASK

“Tap number three. What is the birthplace of Stone and Grave brother Rabbit?” Conrad demanded, staring down at Ariana. His nostrils flared and her heart pounded a nervous beat. It was amazing how intimidated she felt in front of him, when just a few hours ago they were laughing together in class over an odd turn of phrase in Hamlet.

“Brooklyn, New York, Brother Lear,” she replied, her legs quaking beneath her. For the past hour, Ariana and her fellow taps had been kneeling on the floor in the Tombs, their knees pressed into the icy concrete, their burlap sacks chafing their bare skin. Never in her life would Ariana have been able to predict how difficult it was to kneel for that long, but her thigh muscles had started quivering about half an hour earlier, begging for her to sit back on her heels, to stand up, to lay down—anything to relieve them.

“What do you think you’re doing, plebe?!” Conrad shouted suddenly, spittle flying from his lips as he turned on Tahira.

Ariana was so startled she almost collapsed. Tahira pushed herself

up into her kneeling position with her fingertips to the ground. Clearly she had tried to sit back for a second.

“Sorry. I . . . I just needed a break,” she stammered.

Ariana had never seen Tahira be anything less than firm, focused, and in charge. Stammering was not her style.

“What makes you think you deserve a break!?” Conrad shouted, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull. “I see you move again and you’re out on your ass.”

Ariana felt her heartbeat in every inch of her body. She tightened her glutes and thighs and they whimpered in response. This was torture. Plain and simple. But she wasn’t going to move. No way was she going to invite Conrad and his psycho tirade to her end of the line. She breathed in and briefly closed her eyes. At times like these, she couldn’t help thinking of Noelle and Kiran and Taylor and wonder what they were doing at that precise moment. Whatever it was, she knew that they would agree with her—this was no way to spend a Friday night.

“Tap number four,” Conrad continued, shouting down at Jasper. “What is the Stone and Grave nickname of Maria Stanzini?”

“Estella, Brother Lear,” Jasper replied quickly.

“Tap number five,” Conrad said, pacing over to Kaitlynn. “Is Oswald your real last name?”

Ariana’s throat closed and she turned her head to look at Kaitlynn. Up until that moment, every question posed for the past hour had been straight out of the Stone and Grave handbook—which Lear had updated once the rest of the members had revealed themselves. This was the first personal question anyone had been asked. The implications were clear. Stone and Grave was still trying to find information on Kaitlynn’s family, and they were still, of course, coming up blank.

“Eyes forward, tap number three!” April shouted. She was standing off to the side as Conrad quizzed the pledges, but she stepped forward now, her green eyes flashing. Ariana whipped her head to face front, her heart bouncing around erratically in her chest.

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Kaitlynn replied.

“Tap number five! Stone and Grave cannot admit a pledge if we can’t be certain we even know her true name!” Conrad shouted. “Tell me! What is your true name?”

Ariana’s mind felt hazy. A tingling sensation began at the back of her skull and clouded over her vision. She was going to faint. Right here and now. She wondered whether the Stone and Grave could admit a pledge who dropped unconscious at the first threat to a fellow tap.

There was a sudden slam and Ariana’s brain instantly cleared. The sound of scurried footsteps preceded Soomie’s panicked entrance into the Tombs. She raced over to Conrad and April, her dark hair wild, her eyes wide.

“You guys! The headstones . . . they’re gone!” she gasped.

The few Stone and Grave members who were milling around, halfheartedly watching the pledges’ interrogation—apparently this was not a required ritual for the membership—moved forward. Palmer emerged from behind the stacks and Ariana’s heart filled with longing. She hadn’t even realized he was there. Now she wanted to reach out and grip his leg for support. She would have killed just to stand up and fall into his arms.

Just that morning, Ariana had spent her entire free period reviewing the video she’d taken of the two of them on her phone, trying to find the perfect still shot to grab from it. The idea had come to her in the middle of their hook-up. A still-shot of Palmer in a compromising position was just as good as a video, and the task card hadn’t stipulated live footage. After an hour of replaying the five-minute video over and over and over again, Ariana had managed to find a tawdry-looking still in which they were both bare-chested, her back to the screen, and Palmer was kissing her neck. She’d saved it, cropped it, printed it out, and sealed it in an envelope. Now all she had to do was deliver it to Stone and Grave, which she planned to do on Halloween—at the very last minute. No reason to incur whatever consequences would come of this until she absolutely had to. But at least she wouldn’t need to use the video. She could take comfort in that.

And Palmer could too. Although he didn’t know that yet. Still, she had to believe that he would want her to complete her task, at whatever cost. That her being in Stone and Grave with him was an end that would justify the means.

“What do you mean, they’re gone?” Palmer asked Soomie.

“I just went to get them out for our ritual tomorrow, and they’re not there,” Soomie said, throwing a hand up. “Every last one of them is gone. They’ve been stolen. I found this on the floor of the closet.” She handed Palmer an ivory note card. He opened it, read it, and went ashen as he held it out for the other guys to see.

“Freaking Fellows,” Rob said under his breath.