Instead, he stood with drink in hand, a large smile on his face, as he laughed during a conversation with Walker’s dad, looking without a care in the world. It wasn’t like his only living son was about to dance with the devil tonight and maybe needed his father. No, that wasn’t the way it was done in the Order.
I swallowed my emotions along with my swallow of scotch.
Emmett and Walker approached us in their white tuxedos. It was a reminder that we were the outsiders. We were the cluster of recruits in line to claim our membership. We were nothing but blank, invisible, white ghosts until we became members of the Order.
“Seems weird being here without Sully,” Walker said. “Miss the asshole,” he added with a smirk.
“Why did he fail?” Emmett asked Montgomery.
Montgomery seemed uncomfortable with the question. “I’m trying to be a good friend to you guys, but there are rules about what the recruits can and can’t know. Eventually you’ll all know the answers”—his eyes darted around the room—“but I can’t discuss that. Especially here.”
“Do you think I have a chance of actually passing it?” I asked, wondering if I was cut out for this.
It wasn’t like the inherited malice was in my bones. I was the secondborn. The ghosts who haunted the Oleander Manor could very well have other ideas for me. They knew the truth. They knew it should be Timothy here in the white tux. A small, superstitious part of me was terrified that they were the true judges of an Initiate’s worth.
Montgomery reached out and patted my arm. “You got this. Just do what’s asked of you even though your morals will be screaming at you not to. Pick a belle who you feel you can endure the 109 days with. It’s long. It’s brutal. It’s extremely boring at times as day after day blend together. And you’re gonna have to fuck the belle. A lot. No way around that. So, make sure the girl gets your cock hard. Otherwise, you’re going to really regret it.”
My friends laughed, but I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood to do anything but wait. Wait…
The loud hammer strike of twelve chimes echoed in the room. Canes being held by the Elders matched the cadence and the intensity as they banged against the white marble floor. The Choosing of the Belles was about to begin.
“Bring in the belles,” one of the Elders demanded after the twelfth punch of his cane.
The recruits lined up with me in the center of the room. We stood at attention and waited.
We had done this before. Once for Montgomery, and once for Sully. Eventually there would only be one standing here from our cluster. I suppose I was happy that I wasn’t the last one. At least I had moral support on each side of me as Emmett, Walker, and Beau flanked me in the repeated ritual.
I’d tried to prepare myself for this moment. I’d told myself I’d just pick one of the passingly pretty ones—not a beautiful one who’d probably be too needy or high-maintenance, and not one of the dull-looking ones. Like Montgomery said, I needed at least a passing attraction to the girl.
The room went silent, and I waited for the sound of heels—the belles were coming but instead of being a spectator like the times before, I knew this time it was my turn.
Twenty young women.
The Order of the Silver Ghost deemed the number centuries ago, just as they decided exactly what would happen step by step of every moment of not only tonight but of the next 109 days. I was at their mercy, and the innocent, and unfortunate, belle was as well.
I felt bad for the women. I hated that I had to choose one to endure this hell with me. I knew they wanted to be chosen, but they had no idea what that truly meant. Not really. They didn’t know they were caught in a fire and the only way to make it out without burns was to run away tonight.
I could save nineteen of them from the flames, but one was doomed to burn alive with me.
As they entered the room, they stood in a line before us. I knew I was to study each one. Pick the hottest, or at the very least the most interesting. But the truth of the matter was they all would be pretty. I hadn’t seen a belle yet who wasn’t.
Long flowing ball gowns moved before me. Tiny, corseted frames, massive amounts of fabrics, utmost beauty and—
What the fuck! Was this some kind of sick joke?
Fallon Perry?
What the fuck was she doing here?
I blinked several times in hopes that I wasn’t seeing the same woman whom I had reconnected—even briefly—with at Sully’s party. I looked around, waiting for Montgomery to laugh and say it was a sick prank and to bring out the real girls now.