The Bonding Ritual (Girls Wearing Black: Book Four) (50 page)

Who knows, Dad? Maybe a new start is exactly what you need.

Jill closed the document and filed it away in the same folder as the letter to her mom.

“Two weeks,” she whispered. Two more weeks of school, then the spring carnival, then the prom, then her parents got their letters, and Jill was on the run.

Four years of work, building on generations of effort by Network agents from around the world, and only two weeks were left.

Once Ryan got the safe open, and Nicky won Coronation, Jill’s work on this mission was finished. From there, it was up to the assassins who were preparing to
head into the Bloom mansion on prom night and wait for Sergio.

Jill went to bed that night thinking about her legacy, and how history would judge the work she had done.

Two weeks. It will all be over in two weeks.

Nicky took her usual spot in the back row of the chapel and waited for the other students to finish piling in. As she sat, one of Daciana’s servants emerged from the door in the back of the chapel, with the clear plastic globe of Ping-Pong balls in his hands. That globe, once full to the rim with white, plastic balls, was now mostly empty space.

Eighty students had been called up to try the safe. Eighty times Daciana had reached into that globe, removed a Ping-Pong ball, called a number, and invited a student to guess the combination.

Tonight she would call eight more.

The servant placed the globe on top of the safe. In the pews, the final stragglers were sitting down. Daciana emerged onto the altar through the back door and walked up to the safe.

“Welcome back, my friends,” she said. “I trust you all had a good week. Before I allow eight more of you to try your luck, we have a few announcements. The first is a reminder for the girls wearing black that your presence is required at Purgatory House tomorrow at eleven for brunch.”

Nicky kept her gaze straight ahead, knowing that everyone in her row was looking at her. The brunch at Purgatory House was a particularly sadistic tradition. After spending a year in brutal competition, the girls wearing black were required to sit together at a small table and chitchat, knowing that in just a matter of days, one of them would be immortal and another would be dead.

“Also, there are committee meetings for both the spring carnival and for prom this weekend,” Daciana continued. She smiled. “Putting on these fabulous events requires lots of work, doesn’t it?”

Nicky didn’t know if Daciana was joking or not. While it was true there were student committees who oversaw prom and the spring carnival, it was absurd to say there was a lot of work to do. Paid contractors and brainwashed servants did all the heavy lifting for both events. The student committee meetings were social gatherings, nothing more.

“Okay, enough housekeeping,” Daciana said. “Let’s get started.”

She reached into the plastic globe and pulled out a Ping-Pong ball. Looking at the number on it, a grin came over her face.

“Thirteen,” she announced.

The students immediately began shuffling around in their seats, some of them whispering frantically to the people next to them.

Jill warned Nicky this would happen. Thirteen was one of two numbers Eve had removed from the globe two months back, and returned earlier in the week.

Mattie Dupree stepped into the aisle.

“Thirteen is my number,” she said.

The whispers grew into angry and excited chatter.

Mattie’s number?

How could thirteen be Mattie’s number?

They tricked us.

Who? Who tricked us?

As Mattie approached the altar, people started to figure it out, and the chatter went from angry to complimentary.

I bet it was Jill’s idea.

Jill and Ryan. They’ve struck again.

All this time, they had us believing Samantha’s number was thirteen.

Kim never stood a chance.

“Welcome to the altar, Miss Dupree,” said Daciana. “It seems there was some confusion among your classmates about your number.”

Mattie smiled and nodded.

“Good girl,” Daciana said. “You have to be clever to survive in this town, and it seems you have been very clever.”

Mattie was beaming now. One day, she would remember this as the greatest moment in her life.

“For weeks and weeks, your peers have chosen number thirteen on the first dial of the safe,” said Daciana. “I believe they thought number thirteen belonged to someone else.”

“Yes, they did,” Mattie said quietly.

“Well now it’s your turn, Mattie. Have a go at the safe.”

Mattie leaned down and began spinning the dial with the diamond on it, then the ruby, the emerald, and finally, the
sapphire. The crowd was noisy as they watched. Everyone was looking carefully at the numbers Mattie chose, wondering if this was it, if Mattie had one more surprise up her sleeve.

Mattie grabbed onto the handle of the safe and pulled.

A dull thunk, the same sound the safe had made eighty times before, filled the chapel. It was followed by a moan of disappointment from the audience.

“Sorry,” Mattie said with a smile. As she returned to her seat, Mattie looked in Samantha’s direction, and winked.

The next ball Daciana pulled from the globe was three. It brought Lisa Andrews up to the altar. She barely even tried, choosing instead to spin the four dials randomly and quickly tug at the handle, which thunked as it held closed. As Lisa went back to her seat, she passed in front of Samantha and whispered, “Congratulations.”

It was the start of a trend. The revelation that thirteen was Mattie’s number all this time was the final push that sent the Thorndike senior class off the edge. It was springtime in Washington. School was nearly out. Prom and graduation loomed. The seniors of Thorndike Academy were ready for the school year, and the Coronation contest, to be over.

And they were happy to see Kim Renwick lose.

Perry Johnson, Warner Silverstein, Chloe Kerrigan, Barbara King, and Evelyn Molina were the next five to be called to the altar. Every one of them had the same approach. They spun the dials at random, pulled on the handle, listened to the thunk as the door stayed shut, and congratulated Samantha as they went back to their seats.

With each number that was called, Nicky grew more anxious. At some point, either on this night or next Friday, Daciana would grab the Ping-Pong ball with Ryan’s number.

When she did, all these students who thought Coronation was already decided would have their worlds rocked.

The final student called up that night was Douglas Glade. He didn’t even bother to touch the dials. Leaving the combination as it was, he went straight to the handle. As he grabbed onto it, he said, “You’re going to make a wonderful immortal, Samantha.”

This time, when the door made the familiar not-going-to-open
thunk
, some in the audience cheered.

Douglas returned to his seat.

“Well, what an interesting turn of events this evening,” Daciana said. “It seems you all are united in your opinion of who will win Coronation. Perhaps you are right, but I will remind you that the contest isn’t complete.”

Daciana picked up the globe and shook it, allowing the few Ping-Pong balls still inside to rattle around.

“We gather here again next Friday,” she said. “Maybe every one of these people yet to be called will fail to open the safe. Or maybe they won’t. See you then, everyone. You are dismissed.”

*****

The next morning, Nicky returned to Thorndike, parking the Vicenza on the street and walking to the south side of campus.

She passed the Regents’ office, the physical plant, and the old gym, which on this morning was bustling with activity as the prom committee and their contractors prepared for the dance. After passing the gym, Nicky walked across a small courtyard and flower garden, staying to one side of the vine-covered trellis that backed up to
the Purgatory House.

Nicky went around to the front door, where she found Kim, Mary, and Samantha waiting on the porch.

“Enjoy your little walk?” Kim said in a snarky voice. “You know, there’s parking right over there.”

She pointed at a vacant lot across the street.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Nicky said.

“Next time. You hear this?” Kim said to the other girls. “Someone’s already given up.”

“Would you shut up already?” Mary said. “I am so sick of listening to you. I’m going inside.”

“Me too,” said Samantha, who followed Mary through the front door.

Kim waited on the porch for Nicky to climb the stairs.

“You
ever been here before?” Kim said.

“Can’t say that I ever have.”

“It’s a trip. My daddy brought me here in January, and it rocked my world.”

“How so?”

“It made me realize that, as much as I wanted to win, it was even more important that I didn’t lose.”

From inside, an elderly woman called to them.

“Ladies, will you please join us in the house?”

“That’s Edith,” said Kim. “Owner of the most grating voice in the history of the world. Get ready. We’re gonna have to listen to that voice for the next hour and a half.”

Nicky and Kim went inside.

There was a buffet table in the front room. Eggs, fruit, hash browns, steamed vegetables, bacon, and half a dozen other brunch items in silver serving pots lined the table.

“Make a plate and sit down,” Edith said.

A minute later, the four girls wearing black, who had spent the past year as mortal enemies, were seated together at a tiny dining table, close enough that they had to take care not to bump elbows as they ate.

“Most years, when we gather for brunch, the girls pretty much know who is going to win the contest, and who is going to lose,” Edith said. “How wonderful that this year it’s different.”

“Hardly,” said Kim. “Unless one of these gals has a miracle up her sleeve, Samantha’s got this thing wrapped up, and this lovely lady right here is going to be Samantha’s first meal as an immortal.”

Kim was pointing at Mary, who made an ugly face in response. “You’re such a twat, Kim,” she muttered.

“Manners, Miss Torrance,” Kim said in a sing-song voice. “
The Purgatory House isn’t a place for foul language.”

“On the contrary,” said Edith, “over the years, these walls have heard some of the most colorful words you can imagine, usually at this very brunch.”

“That’s because there’s always at least one bitch at the table,” said Mary.

“Don’t look at me,” said Kim, pointing at Samantha. “She’s the one who’s gonna kill you.”

Keeping her head down, Samantha shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“So the current standings have Samantha in the lead, and Mary in the rear,” Edith said. Nicky got the feeling that the old lady was trying to stir the pot.

“That’s right,” said Kim.

“And you’re in second place,” Edith said.

Kim nodded. Gesturing at Nicky, she said, “This one started the semester with a big lead on me, but it turns out she’s terrible at poker.”

Edith looked at Nicky. “The way I understand it, at one time, you weren’t just in second place, you were in first.”

Nicky nodded.

“It truly has been an interesting contest this year,” Edith said. “I expect that people will be talking about the four of you for generations to come.”

“Aw, isn’t that lovely girls?” Kim said. “If we can’t live forever in our own bodies, at least we’ll live on in the stories they tell about us.”

“That is what Coronation is all about,” said Edith. “Immortality, history, and tradition.”

Kim pointed at a bare spot on the wall behind the table.

“What do you think, Mary?” she said. “You want your portrait right there, or would you rather Edith find a place for it in the living room?”

“If you don’t shut your trap I’m going to shut it for you,” Mary said.

“Feisty today, aren’t we?” said Kim.

Mary pushed her chair away from the table and was about to stand up, but Edith put her hand on Mary’s shoulder, holding her in place.

“It’s time for us to speak about the ritual,” she said. “You all have a part to play, regardless of which girl ultimately ends up in this house.”

Still scowling at Kim, Mary took a deep breath and pulled her chair back towards the table.

“At the spring carnival, shortly after dusk, the four of you will be called to stand before your classmates and present your gifts,” Edith said. “I hope all of you have your gift for Daciana already prepared. If not, I suggest you immediately get to work on that. Tradition demands that you give Daciana something special. Something that is meaningful to you, and that will be pleasing to her. I needn’t remind any of you what can happen if Daciana is displeased with your gift.”