Hell Week (23 page)

Mom reminisced, smiling at things past. "We were all so jealous of the SAXis. Homecoming, Greek Week . . . It was always Sigma Alpha Xi and Gamma Phi Epsilon."

"And that didn't seem odd?"

"That they were so lucky? Not really. Do we have any potato chips?"

I got them out of the pantry, and she put a few in her sandwich. "There was something, though, now that you re- mind me, about their being jinxed."

"Jinxed?"

"Yes. I think the Deltas started the rumor, because they were always coming in second in everything." Her face lit with a click of memory. "That's right! Those guys who got sick weren't Gamma Phi Eps, but they were dating Sigmas. That's when the joke started. It was those guys, and a Phi Delta broke his leg, and then everyone came down with food poisoning after a SAXi party. A couple of the guys even ended up in the hospital with dehydration."

"But this jinx. It didn't stop the frat guys from wanting to date them?"

Mom shook her head. "It was a mark of status. The SAXis' boyfriends were chapter presidents, football cap- tains, fellowship recipients . . . I guess when you think of the good things that happened to guys that dated Sigmas, it pretty much balanced out the bad. So they couldn't really have been jinxed, right?"

I didn't answer. She laid down her sandwich and looked at me closely. "Right, Maggie?" "Sure, Mom." Funny how much concentration it can take to read a Coke can when you don't want to look at your parent.

"Oh, Maggie." The maternal unit in question sighed. "You're not in the middle of something weird again, are you?"

Picking up my satchel, I headed for the stairs. "Weirder than my being in a sorority in the first place? Come on, Mom."

Question evaded, I went up to my rooms, hearing her call up to me: "Did you clean up that mess?"

"Sure!" I yelled back, staring right at my self-ransacked bedroom. Dropping my bag onto the study sofa, I went to close the French doors. Out of sight--

The door swung shut and there, two inches in front of my face, was the answer. Crimson and indigo, compass and North Star. Even a stupid octopus. The door decoration had been there since the night I pledged, turned back against the wall.

Out of sight, out of mind. 31

MightyQuinn: I'm such a *moron*!!! 0v3rl0rdL15a: You're not a moron, you

idiot. MightyQuinn: How could I not SEE

this? 0v3rl0rdL15a: That's the whole point

of it. Did you soak the door thing

in the bathtub like I told you to? MightyQuinn: Yes. I used a whole carton

of salt. 0v3rl0rdL15a: Table salt or sea salt? MightyQuinn: Are you sure you don't think

I'm a moron? Justin578: No one is a moron. Can we get

back to business?

I'd gotten Lisa and Justin online--despite the fact that he hated IM for anything but brief exchanges--because they were both in semipublic, and a phone conversation about sorcery was bound to attract the attention of their class- mates.

As soon as the door decoration--which I'd seen on Holly's door, too, so I wasn't special--was submerged in the salt bath, I'd felt something like when your ears pop in an airplane, a change in the pressure around my head. And clarity. Finally, I could think and talk about the Sigmas with- out the muffled, wool-headed feeling.

I considered the plethora of crimson and indigo decora- tions in every SAXi room I'd seen, and wondered how many girls never questioned their good fortune, accepting it with perfectly normal Greek elitism. But that led to more ques- tions. If you accepted something suspicious without ques- tion, did that make you guilty, or just stupid?

Either way, it didn't change what I knew, now more than ever, I had to do.

Justin578: Just help me out here, Lisa.

Tell Maggie she has to get out of that

sorority. 0v3rl0rdL15a: I don't tell Mags what to

do. You can try if you want to. MightyQuinn: Hello! I can see you guys. Justin578: OK. Just say that she doesn't

need to be *inside* the sorority.

He wasn't going to like her answer. I didn't, either, but I was prepared when Lisa typed . . .

0v3rl0rdL15a: Just a little longer. Justin578: How much?

A pause while we waited for her to type.

0v3rl0rdL15a: I've almost got the

components of the spell identified. Then

I'll know if it can be broken from outside

or if she has to stay in the circle. Justin578: How long to initiation? MightyQuinn: Maybe two weeks.

It had seemed so far in the future, like I had all the time in the world. And now the end of the semester, and of pledgeship, was almost here.

And speaking of time, I had to get to the Sigma house for the chapter meeting. I couldn't afford to be late, now that I was pledge president and all.

MightyQuinn: I've got to run. Can't be

late for meeting. 0v3rl0rdL15a: I'll call you tomorrow,

Mags. Justin578: Just be careful. I typed a quick acknowledgment to both of them, and logged off. I didn't need Justin's reminder that I needed to keep my wits about me. Not only did I have to keep my normal fa�ade going, now I had to make sure no one guessed that I'd neutralized their secret signal-jamming device.

F F F

I had to park a block away from the Sigma house--every chapter on Greek Row had meetings on Monday night--and arrived at the door flushed and out of breath. The girls were already lined up in the foyer, alphabetically by class. I joined the freshmen, sliding in beside Holly.

"You okay?" I asked. She'd been elated yesterday, proba- bly at thwarting her mother. But today she seemed like a guitar string, tight enough to vibrate if you plucked her.

"Yeah. Mom's still here." That served as her explanation.

Ashley, at the front of our line, turned back to tell me, "Some of us are going to the hospital after meeting. If you want to come."

"Thanks." One of the juniors glared at us, and I lowered my voice. "But I'm not sure they'll let you in to see him, since he's in bad shape."

Ashley frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Cole." Her look was blank. "Devon's boyfriend. Who are you talking about?"

"Brittany. She was in a car accident yesterday. She'll be okay, but her leg is broken in about three places."

A clammy chill started in my gut and spread out. I looked up at Holly, and she avoided my eye.

When Sigma luck ran out, it ran out big-time.

F F F The chapter meeting began as normal, but the girls seemed subdued, sitting stiffly, their chatter muted.

Holly's mother was indeed still there, sitting with the other alumnae advisers. Victoria had on her game face, all political smiles and gracious nods; Juliana was annoyed, but pretending to be amused by her rival's presumption of su- periority. The tension between them telegraphed clearly to the assembled SAXis and put them on edge.

And then there was Devon's usual chair, sitting in empty accusation. I reminded myself that I was there to help her and Cole, but if I'd just wised up sooner . . .

Kirby started the meeting with a rap of her gavel. "Some rumor control before we start. The Standards Board met this weekend, and I'd like to thank our alumnae advisers, in- cluding our legal counsel, Ms. Juliana Hughes, for their time. In a completely unrelated event, one of our pledges has decided to resign, and Maggie Quinn is the new pledge president."

The actives murmured and Kirby's frown deepened, es- pecially when her eyes found me among the pledges. Impa- tiently, she pointed to the seat beside Tara. "You're supposed to be over there, Maggie."

She held the meeting so that my first act as pledge presi- dent was to cause a delay of game while I changed chairs. I had to go around the seniors, and as I did, the doors--which are supposed to stay closed once the meeting has started-- flew open. Devon, wild-eyed and pale, stood framed on the threshold.

"He's gone." She squeezed the words out of a throat bro- ken with grief. "Cole's gone." No one moved or spoke; in the horrible stasis of the mo- ment, her words refused to compute. Then she swayed on her feet, and I jumped forward, wrapping my arm around her. Her sorrow snatched away my breath. How was she still standing?

"I killed him," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed.

"What?" My brain still refused to assimilate the first shock. It flatly rejected that phrase. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't know what she's saying." Jenna had gone to the girl's other side. "Come on, Devon. We'll take care of you."

She shook her head, violently. "No." When her eyes opened, she focused behind Jenna, where Kirby and Victo- ria and Juliana had come forward while the rest of the chap- ter watched in silent distress. "No. I'm done with you."

Kirby sheathed the steel in her voice. "You're upset, Dev. You've suffered a terrible loss. But don't say something you'll regret."

"Regret?" She stared at the older girl, a knife's edge of bitter outrage in her tone. "Regret?"

"Dev, don't." Kirby reached out, laid a hand on her arm. "We tried to tell you."

Devon wrenched from our grasp. "I regret the day I met any of you." Her voice climbed into the rafters of hysteria as she backed as far from them as she could, pressing her back to the wall. "You did this. You made me what I am. Well, you can all go to Hell!"

A great sob wracked her, and she threw back her head, face contorted with anguish, tears slipping into her hair. "You will, you will," she keened. "But you'll take me with you." She slid down the paneled wall, crouched in a heap of misery. Jenna knelt, and Devon accepted her arm around her shoulders. When Kirby took an impatient step forward, Jenna's head came up, eyes flashing a warning.

Juliana, arms folded, turned to Victoria. "I see how well you've managed things." Ignoring the other woman's death glare, she stepped forward like an auburn-haired icicle.

"Devon. Control yourself immediately."

It wasn't the voice of a mother or the voice of authority. It was the voice of power, and it vibrated along my nerves and settled at the top of my spine, resonating in my brain. My jaw went a little slack with it, and the command was not even aimed at me.

Devon stopped her hysterical sobbing. She raised her head and looked at Juliana, hatred and fear in her eyes, body taut with grief and useless rage. But silent.

"That's better. Now go to your room. Jenna will go with you."

I stepped forward. "I'll go, too."

"No." Juliana was implacable. "Jenna is sufficient."

"Devon is my friend." I set my chin. "And so was Cole."

Two flags of color appeared on Juliana's cheeks, the only sign of warmth I'd ever seen in her. As her anger grew, so did the ice in the air. This was the alpha. The queen bitch. And I had just disobeyed her in front of the whole chapter.

Probably not one of my smarter moments.

When she spoke, it was for my ears only. The rest of the room seemed to retreat beyond reach of voice or aid. "Do not think," Juliana began, her eyes glittering like the sun on a glacier, "that your ability grants you any special powers or protections. Not from me." "I can see that would be a mistake."

She studied me the way an entomologist might a bug. "I have not yet figured you out. You reek of do-gooder, but yet you've accepted what Sigma Alpha Xi has to offer. You seem the model, if somewhat sarcastic, pledge, but I think you are fooling them all. Yet Victoria wants to add your power to ours. She says we need you."

"It's always nice to be needed." There was something about her eyes. Something other that spoke to the primal part of me, the part that recognized a predator.

She tilted her head, an animal-like expression of con- sideration: Do I eat you now, or later? "Perhaps we do. But we need you obedient. So think about the things you love, Mag- dalena Quinn. And do not cross me."

It was my full name that did it. Prickles of bone-deep fear marched over my skin like ants. The murmuring of the girls reached me once more, and the strange, isolated feel- ing of our conversation dissolved.

The triad--Kirby, Juliana, Victoria--returned to their places and rejoined a sober membership. Jenna met my gaze as she led the silently crying girl away. I watched them go, feeling in my soul that I'd failed Devon twice. 32

"What could you have done, Maggie?"

Justin watched me pace his tiny apartment. Wall to wall took me only eight steps, and my legs aren't that long.

"I don't know." Frustration choked the words. "Some- thing. I should have just stolen the book. Maybe there would be something in there to tell me what the hell is going on."

"You did the logical thing. If the Sigmas found their gri- moire missing, they would have done anything to find it."

Think of the things you love, Juliana had said. I shuddered, even in the safety of Justin's home.

"I should have known." Back and forth I paced. Arguing about what was done and unchangeable was easier than fac- ing my fear of failing the next task, whatever it might be.

"Not even you see the future, Maggie."

Forward and back, running my hands through my hair. "I should have found the spell sooner. I thought I had until initiation. It never occurred to me that someone would die while I was out partying with the Sigmas."

He blocked my path, forcing me to look at him. I raised my eyes to his, which were warm and dark, melting with compassion that I didn't deserve. "You did not cause this to happen. They did."

Tears stung and blurred my vision. His handsome, ear- nest face disappeared behind a watery haze of guilt and grief. "I couldn't stop it. I didn't even see it. What's the point of having my Sight if I couldn't save him!"

Justin wrapped me in his arms, tucked me tight against his chest, making me feel sheltered and forgiven. "Evil is deceptive. You fight it, you do the best you can. Sometimes you fall short."

He pulled back and met my gaze again, brushing the tears from my cheeks. "But you have to get over yourself. You can't get back into the fight until you do."

Think of the things you love.

I loved that he didn't deny my feelings, he just told me to get over it. I loved that he was chivalrous to a point just shy of chauvinism, but still held me accountable to fight the good fight. I loved him for being quixotic and square, holding himself to a higher standard, but not thinking less of those, like me, who made a mess of things.