I sighed and sat up, running a hand through my hair. “She has a point.”

  “If she has a point then so do I,” Mel retorted.

  “Now you’re contradicting yourself. And I wasn’t finished. Yeah, she makes a good point, but they did lock our asses inside of a barn and make us do the Hokey-Pokey with our lives.”

  Hearing the entry chime of an exterior door opening followed by a set of heels clicking across the marble floor, I held a finger to my lips. A minute or so later my mother appeared in the doorway of the cinema room.

  “Hey,” I greeted her with a smile I hoped came off as genuine.

  It must have because she returned it with one of her own.

  “I knew I heard something in here. Have you been home all day?”

  This was a question that didn’t need an actual answer. My family kept tabs on me religiously. It was a miracle she hadn’t found out about Sainte’s party. I still wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t figured out I’d been there. Pandora Serpine didn’t give anything away unless she wanted to. My mother was nothing but confident, level-headed, and ruthless.

  If she wasn’t my mom, she’d be one of the rare few I found to be terrifying. My whole life I’d been told that I was just like her. While I couldn’t deny looking at her sometimes felt like looking in a mirror, our resemblance is where any similarities came to an end.

  Our personalities couldn’t be more different.

  I was more like my late Abuela. This had never been a point of contention between us until I hit my senior year. My parents trying to force my path put a damper on our relationship.

  They wanted me to go one way and I was convinced I was going to go another. This bullshit with Lamia provided me a solid argument to back my budding resentment. I could never forgive them for how they treated her. I was slightly comforted by the fact that my Abuelo had gone on a trip shortly after and was yet to return. Even my older brother had put noticeable distance between them since that incident and he was the golden child.

  I couldn’t be too ecstatic over their disagreement when Ciaran’s words implied my entire family was keeping something from me that I was entitled to know. Mel and Graces too, which wasn’t surprising considering their parents were best friends with mine.

  He hadn’t said it was them directly, but they were the only ones that fit his roundabout accusation.

  Nobody else owed me any kind of explanation. It made more sense every time I thought about it.

  We’d found out which families those who perished at Sainte’s party belonged to, but nothing came of their disappearances.

  All their social media accounts vanished less than forty-eight hours later. It was as if they’d been erased entirely from existence. That wasn’t something you could do with a few clicks of a button. Not unless you were doing it from a position of power.

  Looking at my mother at that moment, I made up my mind about the phone. I couldn’t outright ask her about this or if she’d done something to my sister. Lamia’s name had become taboo in our house.

  She’d been erased in the same way that Cooper, Elizabeth, and Max had.

  It was infuriating. I burned with bitterness and guilt for not doing more to find her.

  Logically, I could never go against my family and win. That didn’t take away the shame of being so powerless. At this point, I was desperate, and sometimes desperation called for dangerous measures.

  “We were just about to head out for some Charley’s.”

  “I need those loaded fries in my life,” Mel added with convincing enthusiasm.

  “Oh, that does sound good.”

  Mom reached up and began to remove the pins holding her long dark hair in an immaculate chignon. “Can you bring me something back? Papá has a late-night, so I was going to order in for us, anyways.”

  “You could always come with,” I suggested, already knowing she wouldn’t.

  “I still have some things to take care of. Rain check, okay? You girls go head and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be working until he’s home.”

  “Okay, just text what you want.”

  She thanked me and left us alone, the sound of her eight-inch heels fading as she headed towards the staircase.

  She’d work out, take a shower, and then lock herself away in her office. Same routine as always when her schedule had nothing else on it.

  “So, Charley’s?” Grace prompted.

  “Good food and a chance to get out of the house. That’s a win-win.” I hit pause on our movie and tossed my throw aside.

  Nibbling on a fry, I stared at the phone in my hand.

  It was a brand I had never seen before, close to prehistoric. You had to tap a button multiple times for each letter. I wondered where Ciaran got it from. Even my Abuelo had an Apple.

  “It’s been twenty minutes,” Mel pointed out, sipping her strawberry shake.

  “Maybe he’s busy.”

  Grace leaned between the cream-colored seats with a knowing smile. “Do you want me to call?”

  “No,” I grumbled, going to the only contact saved in the phone.

  I hit the green button and managed to find the speaker phone just as it connected.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you to call,” Ciaran stated as soon as he answered, placing heavy emphasis on the word call.

  “I’ll give you ten minutes to explain what it is you want me to know.”

  “Five,” Mel corrected.

  Someone laughed in the background on Ciaran’s end.

  “I won’t need that.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “There’s somewhere I need you to go first.”

  I glanced at Grace and Mel to make sure they’d heard the same thing I just did. “Go? I don’t think I need to tell you this, but our parents keep us under a microscope.”

  “They aren’t the only ones.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you know of a place where tragedy and drama meet every night?”

  My brows furrowed as I considered the question. There was only one place that immediately came to mind. “I think so…”

  “On Friday you’re going to be there by six.”

  “Are you being serious?”

  “Six on the dot. Don’t be late and get rid of the phone.”

  That wouldn’t be a problem. He had me ready to launch it out the window.

  I kept my composure and maintained level-headedness. “Why can’t you just talk to me now?”

  “It’s better this way. Trust me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “If you want something from me, you should start. Your sister did."

  There he went bringing up Lamia again. His casual way of talking about her, as if they were well acquainted, planted an unpleasant seed in my mind.

  “Place this phone in the rest of your lemonade and pitch it before going home.”

  My eyes immediately dropped to the cup holder where my half-empty drink sat. “How did you know I had a lemonade?”

  The call ended without him answering me. I stared at the screen until it went black and then looked at Grace and Mel.

  How did he know where we were?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On a prominent stretch of city real estate, you could find the Eden Theater. It was a restored movie and showtime venue with an attached hotel that screamed of money the moment you stepped into the lobby.

  After little deliberation, it was decided by the three of us that this was the only place that fit Ciaran’s purposely vague description. It also happened to be one of the few spots we chose to frequent when needing a reason to get away for a night.

  Something told me he was aware of this too but that didn’t bother me for the reasons one might think. I whipped my Range Rover into the parking lot with five minutes left till six.

  Having no idea what kind of car Ciaran would be in, I reversed into an empty space between a large black pickup and a small sedan.

  “Any sign of him?”

  “Not yet,” Grace replied, stretching up off the backseat to see over the cars on either side of us.

  Mel and I surveyed what we could of the parking lot. The place wasn’t exactly empty, and the sun had begun to set. Without the burner phone, there wasn’t a way to contact him. I didn’t like that, but I understood why I needed to get rid of it.

  “You bought our tickets already, right?” I double-checked with Mel.

  “Three for Notre Dame De Paris. Grace’s favorite. They’ve already been hole-punched and are safely in the glovebox.”

  “Okay, good.” I checked the time and then surveyed the parking lot again.

  At six on the dot, a silver SUV came to a stop directly in front of my parking spot. The windows were tinted to an illegal degree, making it impossible for us to see who was driving.

  “That has to be him,” Mel said quietly.

  “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  When the driver of the SUV stepped into my line of vision it wasn’t Ciaran, but one of his friends, Maverick Stolas. He peered through the windshield and offered a friendly wave. I took that as a sign we were supposed to go and talk to him. It didn’t escape my notice that he was by himself.

  “You guys ready?”

  Mel twisted her lips and looked over at me. “Is that rhetorical?”

  With a roll of my eyes, I placed my fob in the clutch I’d chosen to match my dress and reached for the door handle.

  I slipped out of the car and waited for them to do the same so that we’d be together.

  “Don’t you all look beautiful,” Maverick proclaimed before casually demanding we give him our phones.

  Grace eyed him warily. “Why?”

  He grinned and slipped his hands into the pocket of his black hoodie. “Safety precautions.”

  “And where is Ciaran?” Mel questioned suspicion bleeding into her tone.

  “Waiting. We can go to him as soon as you relinquish the phones. You’ll get them back when we’re done.”

  I hesitated for another second before begrudgingly popping open my clutch to remove my cell and hand it over. I knew this wouldn’t be a simple endeavor.

  “Why thank you,” he lilted, tucking it right into his hoodie pocket before accepting Grace’s.

  “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea,” Mel muttered once she’d handed him hers.

  Maverick stepped back and openly checked her out. “I think it was a fantastic idea. Is that navy? It’s definitely your color.”

  His enthusiasm had me suppressing a smile. She did look good. There weren’t too many times she didn’t. Wearing a dress went against my better judgement considering the barn incident, but we had to adhere to Eden’s guidelines.

  Grace and I had opted for black pieces that were more or less the same style as Mel’s—short, tight, and not at all appropriate for this meeting. I didn’t have a variety of other options to choose from. I couldn’t exactly where one of the gala gowns or cocktails was when I always dressed like this for these events. I didn’t want to garner my parents’ attention by suddenly switching it up.

  Mel wasn’t a fan of the flattery and her expression conveyed that.

  “Can we go wherever it is we’re going?”

  “Come on.” His smile never slipped, he lifted his chin and indicated for us to get in the truck after taking another look at her.

  Maverick wasn’t too bad on the eyes either, even in nothing but denim and a hoodie. His dark hair and nearly black eyes sharpened his jagged edges. He had a gorgeous smile and the kind of bad-boy charm that got good girls in trouble. Thankfully we didn’t fit such criteria.

  We settled ourselves in the car, me up front, Mel and Grace in the back. Maverick opened the middle console and removed a slim metal pick resting at the bottom. Without a word, he took each of our cellphone cases off and then used the tool to pop open our sim card trays and remove them.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Being cautious in case your parents track your phones.”

  I never knew if they did that for sure, but it had been a long-standing suspicion so for him to suspect the same thing practically confirmed it.

  “Is that really the reason?” Mel asked.

  “I’m doing this right in front of you, so you know where they are,” he remarked, placing all three phones into the center compartment along with their sim cards once they were powered down.

  “But you have to turn your phones off in the theater. They can’t track them that way,” Grace pointed out.

  Maverick shifted the truck into drive with a nod of his head. “Exactly. There’s a small probability they could turn back on. That’s one risk no matter how slight we’re not going to take.”

  I couldn’t find a reason to argue with him, but the level of caution regarding this meet-up was proving to be more thorough.

  Maverick pulled out of the parking lot and slid me a glance. “Are you more of a country or R&B, girl?”

  When I didn’t reply, he reached for his stereo and began tapping away at the screen with a murmured, “Jazz it is.”

  I sighed and propped my hand on my chin, looking out the window for some sign of where we were going.

  I recognized the building right away. It belonged to a family mine wanted nothing to do with for reasons that were beyond my time.

  If our parents were, in fact, tracking us I would be forever grateful someone deemed it necessary for our phones to be disabled. If they knew we were here they’d lose their minds.

  “Privacy,” Maverick said as a way of explanation for our destination.

  He pulled into the lower parking deck and parked close to a set of doors that led inside. There wasn’t much conversation as we exited the SUV and entered the building with a specialized keycard. Once we went down a short hall, a private lift took us the rest of the way to our meeting spot, a luxury penthouse.

  If I’d known this was where we’d be going, I wouldn’t have come. Being alone with these guys was already testing my nerves. Being alone with them thousands of feet above the ground with only one known exit seemed suicidal. I had come this far now, though.

  I wasn’t going back without some kind of viable explanation or help to find my sister.

  “Ladies first,” Maverick smoothly insisted.

  “You don’t want to check my bag or pat me down?”

  “I would, but I value my limbs.” He noted my confusion with a boyish grin. “He promised to cut off my hands if I touched your strings.”

  Still not sure what he was talking about, I took a quick breath to calm my nerves and stepped off the lift. My lacey flat went from shined marble to flushed concrete. The temperature dropped significantly due to the AC.

  Maverick sidled passed me and motioned for us to follow him down a hall lined with rich-colored trim. There was a freshness in the air along with a hint of pine.

  Everything looked immaculately clean, not at all the bachelor's pad I’d been envisioning. I wondered if all of them lived together.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Mel and Grace to see if they were okay, getting a smile and thumbs up.

  Voices grew louder in volume, remaining soft in tone until we entered a living room filled with plush ivory furniture. A massive floor-to-ceiling window made up the back wall, giving a beautiful view of the city lit up beneath us.

  Ciaran stood from where he’d been sitting the second he saw me. He was dressed down in jeans and a simple t-shirt and still looked as good as he did when I saw him in suits and tuxedos.

  Struck by the full weight of his intensive stare I came to a stop in front of a large television that had been mounted on an accent wall above a fireplace.

  Grace and Mel stood beside me, their eyes taking in the room.

  “You can sit down,” he prompted.

  “Yeah, it’s not like we’re deranged killers or anything,” Charon quipped with thinly veiled amusement.

  I began to object but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to stand in the center of the room like an item on display. I walked over to two plush-looking armchairs and perched on the arm of one, leaving the actual cushions for Mel and Grace.

  Ciaran sat down on the end of the larger sofa, close to me, placing Charon to his immediate left. His brother remained in the same spot he had been, a loveseat that was aligned with Grace’s chair on the opposite side of the room.

  I rested my clutch across my thighs to add more coverage, crossing my legs at the ankle.

  Wanting to get straight to it, I made a point not to look at Ciaran directly and focused on the room as a whole.

  “Why are we here?”

  “To talk.”

  “About?” Mel challenged.

  Ciaran leaned back and looked at Maverick. He cleared his throat and stepped forward.

  “We wanted to explain what happened at the party.”

  “The game…?”

  “That was Judicium,” Kyrous corrected me.

  I think this was the first time I’d ever heard him speak. It wasn’t my first time hearing that word, though, thanks to Ciaran. I belatedly recalled it’s what had been carved into the top of the archway leading into the corn maze.

  “Judicium means judgement. It’s what the land the barn sits on is for until the next location is constructed,” Charon explained.

  “But what’s being judged? All we did was try to solve some riddle that got a guy’s hand cut off and then run through the woods.” Mel pushed for clarification.

  Maverick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the television. “That’s what was being judged. Your ability to think, act, and if or when necessary, kill.”

  Grace clasped her hands together on her lap. “It wasn’t random?”

  “Most people are willing participants. They know it’s expected of them if their families wish to name them as an official heir when the head steps down.”

  “And the ones that have no idea what this is?” I asked.

  “Is usually so rare it’s unheard of,” Charon answered.

  Mel scoffed. “So, everyone else knew what was going to happen that night? Their fear was pretty convincing.”

  “Most aren’t like you three.” Maverick smiled at her. “Just because people know they’re going to have to do something terrifying doesn’t make them fearless.”

 

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