Deceit (Gallows Hill Book 1), page 6
Once we make our way further into the tunnel and take the left turn, Liam pockets his phone, instantly acting casual as we come in sight of the first guard. Oh, and when I say acts casual, I mean he begins bouncing on his feet while attempting to touch the ceiling as he runs and jumps high over and over again. You’d think a tunnel beginning underneath the school church and leading out into the forest wouldn’t have very high ceilings, but for whatever reason, they are nearly ten feet tall.
When the original Brethren were building this tunnel system, they really spared no expense or cut a single corner. At least, not by 1696 standards.
In the next moment, we see Alexander Booth just ahead as usual. His family isn’t one of the Elders, but they are a part of the Brethren. It’s bad luck though, because when you join the Brethren without Elder blood in your veins you are offered the life of your dreams, but it comes at a price. For instance, Booth’s price is that he is the Elder’s resident bitch-boy.
He comes down here and lights the tunnel for the Elders and the Legacies. He is also the attendance taker if you will, though this is the closest he will ever get to being inside of that room. He’s never even seen past the door he keeps. If he did, I have no doubt my father would gouge out his eyes in an attempt to eviscerate the image from his mind. Then again, he’d probably take his tongue too for good measure, should he ever try to speak of what he sees.
To my knowledge, he’s always been a faithful servant– dutiful and silent. Just as he should be. Wordlessly, he flips open the leather bound book before him. It only gets bigger and bigger as time goes on, since the Elders insist on using the original log book to maintain tradition.
I reach into my slacks pocket, grabbing my pocket-knife before flicking the blade open and pricking the end of my finger. When that first drop of crimson appears, I press my pointer finger to the blank line, where I quickly sign my name and the date before handing my knife to Liam. He quickly does the same, logging his attendance as well.
There are a lot of traditions and practices we still participate in that are weird as fuck. This one, for instance. The scripted writing across the top of the page, a clear direction as to why we do what we do. Witches bleed black.
Obviously, it’s far less about eradicating witches and far more about multiplying our power, wealth and reach nowadays. Even so, we all cut our fingers to make sure we bleed red. Weird as fuck, but it’s been practically the norm since I was first brought down here as a young boy.
Booth nods at us, dipping his head in respect as we move past him and push on the stone wall. In appearance it is just another part of the wall, but the twenty-second brick up from the floor is loose, so when you push it in just right—
Before I can finish my thought, the wall gives way, just enough for one person to slide through at a time. Liam is quick to shut the door behind himself as we step into the waiting room, at least that’s what I call it. Though you’d expect the Brethren to have a more refined space for their elite, that isn’t the case down here. Up above is where we flaunt our wealth and status, where we indulge in our every desire. Down here, we are just as they were before us. At least, that’s the horse shit my father has been peddling down my throat since I was old enough to understand how different our family was.
Vincent Griggs is already here, standing in the corner so he can watch everyone as usual. The guy is a fucking creep, and has been ever since his parents died. He got even worse after his Bond Brother died. As a Legacy, when we’re thirteen, we are assigned a Bond Brother. He is, for all intents and purposes, an extension of ourselves. You do everything with each other as kids, so that it strengthens your bond as adults. I’m just glad I was matched with Liam. We had been best friends since birth and if I would have had to have been Brothers with someone like Griggs, I think I would have gladly offered myself as well.
His eyes come to mine and Liam's instantly, a sneer pulling at his lips as the grey in his eyes flash like a knife. We are similar in build, and if I had to take him on there is a good chance I would win. Then again, because his family was who they were and because of what they did for the Brethren, maybe not. Either way it doesn’t matter, every family here, including Liam’s, will one day submit to me. It’s my birthright.
Thomas Preston and Andrew Hutchinson step into the room next, closely followed by Jeremy Stroughton and Dane Lewis. They all acknowledge everyone in the room with a simple nod before taking seats around the room. We’ve timed it well, and don’t have to wait long before the wall in front of us shifts revealing yet another hidden door to the main room.
Ronan steps out, eyes scanning to make sure all of us are here. His job, to the Brethren, is essentially the Legacy guardian. Until we are officially inducted into the Brethren, he’s basically our babysitter.
He gives us a silent nod as we all stand and begin slipping through the door, one by one, before it’s snapped shut behind us.
Chapter Nine
Skyla
Professor Corwin is droning on and on about the colonial era, and no offense, I couldn’t be less interested. I learned a completely different history syllabus growing up in the UK. So I probably should be paying attention, but as nice as he is, listening to him lecturing is practically mind numbing.
I do my best to avoid Liam’s flirty eyes, but it’s proving to be more difficult than I predicted seeing as he took the empty seat to my right while Maggie is on my left. I have absolutely no interest in conversing with the neanderthal, though. It’s very obvious he’s just one of Asher’s henchmen, the lead henchman in fact. Every time I look at him, I think about the way he reveled in my public humiliation. No amount of pretty blond hair or eyelashes for miles can make up for that. Not to me at least.
My eyes flick down to the scratch paper I’ve been doodling on, that same heart crest imprinted in my mind. When I woke up this morning, someone had slipped an envelope under my door. Inside of it was a silver necklace with a heart shaped pendant. This wasn’t just a normal heart, though. It had thorns and wire wrapped around it that looked to be bleeding. Accompanying it was a piece of paper with a single sentence.
Sometimes the most precious things hurt the most.
Obviously it’s some kind of weird scare tactic from Asher, as if the lovely little photo wasn’t enough. I don’t know what his game is and I don’t care. I threw the entire thing straight in the trash and didn’t mention it to anyone. I won’t let him have the satisfaction of me even acknowledging his efforts.
When class is over Maggie and I stand up, pushing past Liam as we walk down the stairs. I’m applying Ronan’s advice and ignoring Asher, as well as all of his associates. If it bothers the king, I have no doubt it bothers the servants just the same.
I’m in such a rush to get out of the classroom that as soon as I step out into the courtyard I barrel into someone, forcing them to stumble a step or two before they face me.
“Watch it,” he practically snarls.
It only takes me a moment to place him as the tattooed guy from the pool. I haven’t seen him around campus, and I haven’t been back to the pool since that day. Despite how much I already miss it.
“It was an accident, Griggs,” Maggie snaps right back.
His hate filled eyes flick from me to her, before coming back to me. He dismisses us with a shake of his head, before he’s storming off across campus.
“Who is that?” I ask Maggie.
“Him? That’s Vincent Griggs. Total loner and a complete jerk off.”
Yeah, I could tell.
“Why do you call everyone by their last name?” I ask as I walk her to her class, since I have a gap in my schedule for a few hours.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Anytime you talk to people you call them by their last name, almost in a derogatory way. Why?”
She is quiet for a moment before she speaks.
“Heritage is really important around here. It’s ingrained in us. Some families are good, some not so much.”
“Well, that’s just life right? Are there literal family rivalries here or something?”
Maggie shakes her head as we round the corner of the building and step inside.
“Not at all. We are all on the same team. It’s just complicated. I don’t know– hard to explain. If you would have grown up here, you would know these things,” she sings lightly before laughing.
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t have much say in that.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls me in for a quick hug.
“Yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses. K, see you at lunch,” she says before slipping into her class.
I wave goodbye as I begin heading back to my dorm until my creative writing class, which I absolutely despise by the way.
After classes are done for the day, Maggie and I are heading to the parking lot when Liam comes jogging up. He steps in front of us in an attempt to stop our movement, but I give him an unimpressed look as I continue walking.
He grins at me like he expected nothing less before he begins jogging backwards, keeping his eyes on me.
“Hey, babygirl. Where you going?”
“None of your business,” I cut.
“Aw come on, don’t be like that. It was funny. If it would have happened to me, you would have been laughing.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. It was cruel and undeserving. I most definitely wouldn’t participate in the public humiliation of others because I was so desperate to be accepted by my peers,” I snap back at him.
His teasing smile falls, and he stops in his tracks as he nods solemnly.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, it was a dick move.”
My eyes narrow in suspicion for a moment, searching his face for something teasing or disingenuous. But I come up empty.
“It was,” I say carefully.
“Can I make it up to you?” he asks.
I raise an eyebrow. “Probably not, I’ve been known to hold a grudge.”
A laugh escapes him as he smirks.
“I’ll bet. There’s a party tonight, be my date?”
Now I’m the one that laughs, causing his smirk to drop and a confused look to knit his brows together.
“Absolutely not,” I snicker, as Maggie gives me a side eye before chuckling to herself.
“Why not?” Liam asks, obviously deeply offended.
“I don’t need a reason. No is a complete sentence,” I say, as my laughter dies down with a shake of my head.
I brush past him, looping my arm with Maggie’s to take her with me. Liam quickly jogs after us, grating on my nerves as he speaks.
“Fine, don’t be my date but at least come. There will be drinks, dancing. I’ve been told I’m quite the dancer,” he says as he takes a step to the side, practically humping the air as he does.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to look like an idiot, but either way he’s succeeding. I can’t help but let a laugh slip out at his expense as I shake my head, when Maggie speaks up.
“Bonfire?” she asks.
His eyes flick to her before he smiles and nods.
“You in, Bartlett?”
“As long as you stop dancing, Walcott,” she laughs.
His body stops instantly as he snickers.
“Done. I’ll see you ladies tonight,” he says with a saucy wink in my direction, before he saunters off back to campus.
I look over to Maggie with wide eyes as I shake my head.
“We aren’t actually going, right?”
She rolls her eyes at me and smirks.
“Of course we are.”
Chapter Ten
Skyla
I’ve decided to wear a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark grey wrapped sweater since we are going to be outside. It’s comfortable but practical, and it’s about the most casual outfit I own besides leggings and a tank top, which is obviously not an option.
Maggie said she would meet me at my dorm, and we could walk together. Sure enough, a steady knock comes from my door seconds after I smear my nude colored lip gloss on.
I run a hand through my barrel curls as I open the door. Maggie’s wide smile dies on her lips as soon as she sees me. She’s gone a little edgier, wearing ripped black jeans and a Lynyrd Skynyrd crop top with some combat boots.
Maggie’s eyes roam over me, judgment clear in them as she shakes her head.
“Babe, what the hell are you wearing? It’s a bonfire, not a Lamaze class.”
I frown at her as I look down at my sweater.
“What do you mean? I like this sweater.”
“My grandma likes that sweater,” she deadpans. “You have a banging body. Why are you hiding it?” she asks.
I cross my arms over my chest uncomfortably before shrugging softly. A sympathetic look crosses her face before she nods.
“Sorry, I’m being a bitch. You look beautiful.”
I don’t quite believe her, but I don’t get time to argue before she’s pulling me out of the room by my arm. The door shuts with a resounding thud and my heart sinks.
“Maggie, my phone was inside and my key! How am I supposed to get back in?”
She waves me off as she continues pulling me down the hallway, like I’m a pet on its way to be neutered.
“It’s fine. You can crash with me. Let’s just go already!”
I roll my eyes at her carefree attitude as we step inside the elevator, whooshing down to the bottom floor in no time. Apparently, it’s a back to school tradition to hold a huge bonfire at the edge of campus. I wasn’t able to determine if it was sanctioned by the school or not, my guess is obviously that it’s not.
My suede knee-high boots cover the distance across campus, and soon a flicker of fire can be seen from afar. It gets larger and larger the closer we get, until we come right up to it and see it’s nearly twenty-feet high and ten-feet wide. Several guys wearing Gallows Hill football t-shirts are laughing, fueling the fire more and more with wooden pallets. Dozens of people are gathered around singing, dancing and laughing to the music coming from a huge speaker in the corner.
There are several kegs to the side, and nearly everyone has a drink in their hand. I glance at Maggie uneasily and she rolls her eyes before pulling me over to an empty area near the fire, shaking her hips to the beat. Her hands rest on mine, physically forcing me to move along to the beat as well. I can’t help but laugh before I finally stop fighting her, moving to the upbeat R&B song.
She grabs a beer out of some guy’s hand, winking at him as his shoulders slump and he walks back over to the keg where he got his drink.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“My neighbor, he’s too nice to say no to me,” she says in my ear over the thumping music.
“Maybe he likes you.”
She snorts and shakes her head.
“I fucked around with his sister last summer. He knows he’s definitely not my type.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. She’s so unapologetically her, it’s amazing. The comfortability she has in her own skin is something I admire deeply. I wish I could be as strong and proud in just one thing, as she seems to be in everything.
When the song changes, to something a little slower and more seductive, I watch as Maggie sets her eyes on a girl behind me. She gives her a sultry smirk before moving past me, grabbing her hips as she begins dancing again. The girl looks a little caught off guard, almost like she wants to push her away. The lust is apparent in her eyes though, even from over here and she quickly succumbs to my friend’s charm.
I genuinely think it’s Maggie’s mission to switch every straight woman on campus, at least for a night.
Laughing at my amazingly sexual friend I turn to step away from the fire, already sweating from the direct heat. Maybe a sweater actually wasn’t the best idea for a bonfire. I’m moving through a crowd of people when a familiar face pops-up in front of me. Her sleek black hair and bright blue eyes are nearly unforgettable, as well as the mental image of her naked body lying on my bed with Asher on top of her.
“Hey! You’re Skyla, right?” she slurs slightly, swaying a bit as she holds her drink a little higher like it will somehow counter her center of gravity.
I nod, but don’t say anything, and that’s okay because her drunken rambling continues.
“I’m Bridgetteee,” she exaggerates, before giggling to herself. “We met earlier this week.”
I give her a tight smile as I nod again. “I remember, you were bent over my bed.”
She snickers at that, covering her mouth as she nods.
“Sorry about that. You know how it is, when Asher Putnam asks you to jump, you fling yourself right off the bridge.”
I actually can’t relate to that statement, at all. I’m not sure I would willingly do a single thing for Asher Putnam. I give her a polite nod but take a step to the side, ready to be done with whatever this is. Her hand whips out, those long nails digging into my forearm as she holds me back.
“Wait, I wanted to say I’m sorry and hopefully we can start fresh. I swear, I’m not the bitch I seem to be. I just like him,” she says softly, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the drunken haze.
I shrug at that. “Well, you can have him. Honestly, I have zero interest.”
She laughs, like I just told the most hilarious joke, before she stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. It looks like she’s about to say something before she shakes her head.
“Have you been to the spot yet?”
“The spot?” I question with a shake of my head.
She rolls her eyes before practically squealing. “Oh my godddd. C’mon. You have to come check it out, it’s like a tradition for new students.”
I frown at that and look over my shoulder to see Maggie making out with the girl she was just dancing with. Damn, she moves fast.
