Sweet Deceit Read online

Page 7


  “Hey, Lily! Come join us!” Ariana shouted.

  Kaitlynn looked up from her book as if startled. “Oh, I . . . I don’t want to cut the line,” she said.

  “Sure you do,” Lexa replied with a smile. “What do you want?”

  Kaitlynn shrugged an apology at the waiting line of customers, but no one said a word. No one at APH ever contradicted Lexa Greene. “I’ll just have a hot chocolate,” Kaitlynn said.

  Lexa ordered for her as Kaitlynn stood next to Ariana at the counter to wait. “So. What are you guys talking about?” she asked, tucking her book into her bag.

  “Halloween costumes,” Maria replied, sipping her espresso. “Ana can’t decide what to be.”

  “I just hate pretending to be someone I’m not,” Ariana said, shooting Kaitlynn a mischievous glance.

  Kaitlynn hid a grin behind her hand.

  “I have no idea what I’m going to be either,” Kaitlynn said, taking her hot chocolate from the barista. Together the five girls turned toward the room and started the search for a big enough table to hold them.

  “Why don’t we do something together?” Ariana suggested.

  “Really?” Kaitlynn asked.

  “Sure. Why not?” Ariana replied, taking a sip of her coffee as she followed Lexa toward a table near the window. “It could be fun.”

  “You do realize that if we do a pairs costume you’ll be stuck to my side all night,” Kaitlynn said, lowering herself into a chair.

  “I’m sure she can handle it,” Maria said. “This is going to be fun! What’s a good costume for Ana and Lily?”

  “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?” Soomie suggested, her eyes innocently wide.

  Ariana laughed, pleased that Soomie was actually making a joke, even if it was at her expense.

  Lexa grinned. “I know! Dumb and Dumber!”

  “You guys are hilarious,” Ariana said acerbically, tearing a corner off her scone. “I was thinking more like Jane and Lizzie Bennet.”

  Kaitlynn gasped in excitement “Or the Boleyn girls!”

  “But I want to be the one who doesn’t get beheaded,” Ariana replied.

  “We’ll see,” Kaitlynn joked darkly, settling back in her chair and looking relaxed and happy. Still with the thinly veiled threats. But then, Ariana realized, she had set herself up for that one.

  “This is going to be good,” Ariana said with a smile.

  “Definitely,” Kaitlynn replied. “I’m so glad you decided not to cancel your party, Soomie. Suddenly I can’t wait for Halloween.”

  GETTING TO KNOW YOU

  “I must say, if this is what they call Hell Week, I’m unimpressed,” Jasper said, reaching for a tortilla chip and dipping it into the salsa jar in the center of his dorm room floor.

  “Why? Because they haven’t made us do anything since Tuesday?” Ariana asked, flipping through her handbook. It contained basic information on her fellow pledges and on Conrad and April, the only two members who’d officially revealed themselves. It also covered the significance of various literary figures throughout history—like Lear and Miss Temple. Ariana had had it memorized since Wednesday morning, but tonight she’d finally taken Jasper up on his offer to study together. She wanted someone else to quiz her to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  “Exactly!” Jasper laid his book aside and rested his hands, palm up, on his knees. “I had all these visions of being up all night, toiling away at menial tasks, getting whipped by angry, faceless society members.”

  Ariana laughed and dusted some salt off her fingers. “Whipped?”

  Jasper raised his eyebrows. “I have a vivid imagination.”

  “Me too,” Ariana replied. “But mine never went to whipping.”

  Jasper laughed and pulled his legs in closer, then reached for another chip. “So then, what did you think it was going to be like?”

  With a sigh, Ariana leaned back against Jasper’s roommate’s bed. Kendrick Musgrove was out at a meeting of one of his “plethora of clubs,” as Jasper put it, leaving the two of them some privacy to study. Ariana liked Jasper and Kendrick’s room. It was neat and sparsely decorated. Both beds were covered in plain wool blankets. A few posters of Civil War battles and old-school navy ships lined the walls, hung at perfect right angles. She found the order comforting.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I thought it would be more like boot camp—you know, being woken up in the middle of the night and having to run around in our underwear or something.”

  Jasper laughed wholeheartedly, his white-blond bangs falling over his light blue eyes.

  “Shut up,” Ariana said, picking a few crumbs off her jeans to avoid his gaze. “My dad had to do that during fraternity pledging.”

  “Your dad was in a frat? Which one?”

  Ariana froze as her vision entirely blurred over. Her dad was in a frat. Her dad. Not Briana Leigh’s. She, in fact, had no idea whether or not David Covington had ever been in a fraternity. She didn’t even know if the guy had gone to college. Her heart started to force hot panic through her veins and she could feel her throat begin to close. How could she be so careless? So stupid?

  Breathe, Ariana. Just breathe.

  In, one . . . two . . . three . . .

  Out, one . . . two . . . three . . .

  In, one . . . two . . . three . . .

  Out, one . . . two . . . three . . .

  It didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if Jasper was going to Google David Covington the second she left his room to try to find out what fraternity he was in. She looked up at him, her heart rate finally returning to normal. His expression was quizzical and slightly concerned.

  “Sorry, I just . . . this is embarrassing, but I don’t even know,” she said with a laugh. “All that Sigma Delta Gamma stuff sounds the same to me.”

  “Believe me, I understand,” Jasper replied. “Half the time when my dad starts talking my eyes just glaze over.”

  Ariana let out a silent sight of relief. “Anyhow, maybe they’re taking it easy on us because of Brigit.”

  “Perhaps,” Jasper mused, rubbing his hands together. He looked up at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “Or maybe it’s all part of their insidious plan. Lull us into a sense of security so we’ll be all the more surprised when they attack.”

  “Maybe.”

  “So,” he said with a sly smile, reaching for his book again. He opened to a page at random and looked down his long nose at the small print. “Tell me everything there is to know about Adam Lazerri.”

  “Why bother? We both know it,” Ariana said, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “Poor Adam.”

  “Ah, yes. The sacrifice made for the greater good,” Jasper said, toying with his book.

  “Do you really think that’s all it was?” Ariana asked. “That they were just trying to scare us into submission?”

  Jasper shrugged and frowned. “Either that or they really are going to pick us off one by one.”

  “Well, I’m getting in, and so are you,” Ariana said confidently. “So tell me all about yourself—things that aren’t even in the handbook.” She crossed her arms over her chest and settled in for the story.

  Jasper smiled and let out a groaning sigh. He leaned back against his own bed, crooking both arms behind his head in a cocky way, and shoved his legs out, crossed at the ankles. “Well, where does one begin? There’s so very much to tell.”

  “Start with the basics,” Ariana said, rolling her eyes. “Then warm up to the good stuff.”

  “I grew up just outside Baton Rouge,” Jasper replied, deepening his southern drawl. “Mama’s family money comes from cotton, but Daddy’s in the real estate biz. Although as far as I can tell he hasn’t worked a day in his life. Just lived off the proceeds from investments made by his father’s father.”

  “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 t
ugged 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 ref
use 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.