Privilege 4 - Sweet Deceit (9 page)

"So what are you going to do?" Ariana asked. "Are you interested in real estate?"

Jasper pulled a face. "How could anyone be interested in real estate?" he said, faking a snore. He tugged at a pulled yarn in the throw rug beneath them. "No, I think I'll follow in my father's footsteps and do nothing."

Ariana laughed. "Right."

Jasper moved his hands to his lap where he folded them together. "Oh, I'm totally serious."

Ariana's brow knit. "What? No. How can you just aspire to do nothing?"

"Why not?" Jasper asked, lifting his shoulders. "The men and women of this country toil hard day and night to sock away enough cash so that they will one day, when they're old and gray, be able to retire and do nothing. I'd rather do nothing now. When I'm young. When I can really appreciate the blessing of being able to do nothing."

Ariana blinked a few times, trying to process this. She had never known anyone so unambitious in her life. All of her friends came from money, but they all aspired to something. Even if it was Kiran's dream to be a supermodel or Portia Ahronian's wish to marry an En glish royal. Everyone had to have something to look forward to. She looked at Jasper and saw what might have been a teasing glint in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't serious. Or maybe he was just enjoying the fact that his life's plan was throwing her. "Well, congratulations. You're officially the lamest person I've ever met," Ariana said, only half-joking. "I'm going to take that as a compliment," Jasper replied. Suddenly, the door was flung open and in walked two guys in black hoods and ski masks. Ariana gasped. "Oh, look," one of the intruders said. "Two for the price of one!" Then he stepped forward and dropped a black bag over Ariana's head. "Told you," Jasper said, his voice muffled. "Lulling us into a sense of security." Ariana laughed through her hood. "Shut it, plebe," the second attacker barked. " To the Tombs!" Biting her tongue to keep from laughing, Ariana allowed herself to be manhandled out of the room. DIFFICULT QUESTIONS

"Who are you?"

Ariana stared back at the masked and hooded Stone and Graver in front of her and pressed her lips together as a giggle threatened to escape. He was trying to be menacing, and yes, she was sweating like a pig under the hot interrogation lamps swinging overhead. And yes, the eyes of two dozen or more Stone and Grave members staring back at her from under their masks were making her dizzy. Not to mention the fact that her skin was on fire due to the torturously rough burlap bag she wore over her bare, perspiring skin. The problem was the question at hand. Her interrogator had no idea how difficult it was to answer.

She wasn't Ariana Osgood. Not anymore. But she wasn't exactly Briana Leigh Covington either. She wasn't the girl who grew up in Texas as an oil billionairess. She wasn't the girl whose mother died a long, slow death from cancer, and whose father was killed soon afterward. She wasn't the girl who had been drowned in Lake Page as collateral damage in a plan gone slightly awry.

Nor was she the girl who had drowned Briana Leigh. Not really. Yes, technically, the hands that had held Briana Leigh down under the water were the same ones that were now clenching the rope belt around her waist, but she was someone entirely different now. Someone who was ever evolving. The person who stood here now might be an entirely different person tomorrow.

"Who are you?!" the interrogator shouted again, getting right up in her face, so close she could hear him panting beneath his gruesome mask.

Next to her, Kaitlynn flinched and everyone in the Tombs held their breath. For a long moment, no one moved. A sudden and horrifying thought occurred to Ariana. Did they know? Was it possible that they had looked into Briana Leigh's background? Found pictures of her somehow? Realized that the Briana Leigh who had partied on South Padre Island last spring break was not the same person who was attending classes at Atherton-Pryce?

"Why do you deserve to be in Stone and Grave?" the masked figure demanded.

Ariana let out her breath. This was a much easier question to answer.

"Because I'm strong," she said calmly, her voice clear as day. "I'm a survivor."

The interrogator paused. Ariana liked to think he was surprised by her answer. Finally he let out a snort and stepped back.

"Oh, really? And what makes you such a survivor?"

Huh. Ariana wasn't sure how to answer that. She couldn't exactly tell him that she had broken out of a minimum security prison, gone on the lam for weeks on end, lied her way into Briana Leigh's life, and then killed the girl so that she could have a second chance at living.

Kaitlynn shifted next to her, the ragged sleeve of her sack dress scratching the bare skin just above Ariana's elbow. Suddenly Ariana knew exactly what to say, and Kaitlynn was not going to love it.

"Well, I'm not sure if you've all heard, but my father was murdered a few years ago," Ariana began, putting on a slightly haughty tone. After all, she had a feeling that no one else in this room had suffered through quite the level of tragedy that Briana Leigh Covington had. "By my best friend."

Ariana felt Kaitlynn stiffen, but she couldn't stop now. She was telling the truth. And no one but she and Kaitlynn knew that the murderer was standing in this very room.

"My mom had already died of cancer, so after that I was kind of on my own," Ariana continued, recounting Briana Leigh's life story. "I had to find a way to get over it and move on. But the whole thing not only made me stronger, it also made me realize that one day everything can be perfectly fine, and the next it can all be taken away like that." She lifted her right hand and snapped her fingers. "And it doesn't even have to make sense. It can just happen."

Ariana took a deep breath and folded her hands together at her waist.

"So now I live each day like it's my last. I appreciate everything more. My life, my friends, my family . . . what little I have left," she said in a mournful way. "But above all, I appreciate this opportunity. This brotherhood. And if I am given the honor of being initiated into Stone and Grave, you can be sure that I won't take the society, or my brothers and sisters, for granted."

There was a long moment of silence. Ariana could hear Kaitlynn breathing. The heat lamps above her hummed, and somewhere far off a door slammed. The interrogator turned his back on her and faced the membership of Stone and Grave. There was an almost imperceptible shift-- Ariana couldn't even make out what it was--and then he turned around again.

"We deem your answer . . . acceptable," he said, bowing his head slightly.

And then he moved on to Kaitlynn. Ariana inflated with a rush of pride. It was all she could do to keep from glancing over at Jasper and grinning. He, Tahira, and Landon had already been deemed "acceptable." Ariana wished they could whip off their itchy robes and celebrate.

"Who are you?" the interrogator asked Kaitlynn.

"Lillian Oswald," Kaitlynn answered simply.

"That's it? Nothing to add?" he replied.

"It was a simple question," Kaitlynn said, lifting her chin.

He tilted his head in a menacing way. "Where do you come from? Who is your family? What do they do?"

Ariana's heart squeezed. These were simple questions, too, of course. Provided the person answering them had any sort of past to speak of. Ariana took the risk of glancing over at Kaitlynn. Much to her surprise, the girl appeared perfectly calm and collected.

"I'm not at liberty to say," she replied.

There was a distinct shift in the crowd of Stone and Gravers. They were clearly frustrated by Kaitlynn's answers. The interrogator's head tilted in the opposite direction.

"What do you mean, you're not at liberty to say?" If possible, his voice became even lower and more threatening.

Kaitlynn shrugged. "I'm not at liberty to say."

"Let me be sure I understand," the interrogator said, stepping closer to Kaitlynn. He held his hands, covered in black leather gloves, together in front of him. "You refuse to tell me where you grew up?"

"That is correct," Kaitlynn replied with a quick nod.

Ariana bit down on her tongue, hard.

"Who is your mother?" the interrogator demanded.

"I can't say."

"Your father?"

"I can't say." The interrogator huffed. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't," Kaitlynn replied coolly.

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? Y may ou 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.

"Well," she said with a short laugh. "We won't be needing this one." She frisbeed one of the envelopes at the pledges' feet, and Ariana saw the name Allison staring up at her in silver script. Tahira made a choking sound and covered her mouth. For a second Ariana stopped breathing, wondering if Lexa would react, but she simply ignored Tahira.

"Lillian," Lexa said, handing over an envelope.

"Briana Leigh," she said, meeting Ariana's eyes with a searching stare. Like she was trying to apologize or explain or, at the very least, gauge Ariana's reaction. Ariana took the envelope and looked past Lexa, hoping her feeling of betrayal wasn't evident on her face.