They played the roles of devoted initiates. They filed out. Amanda remained, beaming, hands nervously ticking over her pin-straight hair.
Graham indicated the clearing in the formation of candles where he’d placed an old, dusty blue bottle brimming with a homemade concoction of animal blood and a pine-flavored liquor that Stepdad Number Four left behind.
Amanda was given the idol. She made her way amid the candles, her hem fanning the flames, distorting her shadow on the wall. Her free hand grappled with the heavy bottle.
“Take a sip of the truth serum,” Graham said. He believed that if we told the initiates it worked, it would. Power of suggestion.
I widened my eyes at Harry as Amanda took two long drags.
She coughed with the second; a fine spray of red dots left on her white collar when she was done. “Blah,” she spat. “Tastes like blood and dirt.” She placed the bottle at her feet and let the idol hang at her side.
“Put her against your heart,” Viv instructed.
Amanda hugged the statue, cheeks flushing.
“The Mistress of Rebellion and Secrets will burn you if you lie,” I said, a growl to my voice. “Begin.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How can I be sure you aren’t going to blab what I tell you?”
“You know we’re IV,” I said. “You know what we did to the police chief’s and the mayor’s houses. That’s leverage.” I could practically hear Graham thinking sarcastically, And mutual assured destruction never fails.
One of Amanda’s thin blond eyebrows lifted. “Okay. Just as long as you know how screwed you’d be.” She drew back her shoulders. “What do I get if I have the best secret?”
Harry grunted his inquiry.
“If my secret is better, do I get to stop being an initiate first?” she clarified.
I opened my mouth to say no when Viv said, “I promise that if your secret is best, you’ll have a better role in the Order once you’re all not initiates anymore. More power than your friends.”
Amanda’s thin lips spread into a superior grin. “That’ll do.” She hardly paused a beat. “When Con and I went out we used to meet up at night in his dad’s model homes. But then he got wasted while we were at a USB party and was all over another girl, right in front of Jess and Campbell. Like they wouldn’t tell me. Then Con’s older brother, Bowden, was home from school and I was angry with Con, so I went with Bowden to one of the models. Bowden and I were, you know, and I heard someone coming up the stairs. Over Bowden’s shoulder the door opened a crack. I figured it was Con, following us, jealous. I got all moany to rub it in while he watched. Make sure he knew his brother was better. When we finished I went to the window to see how pissed Con looked getting into his car. It wasn’t Con.”
“Who was it?” I asked, caught up in the scandalous story.
Amanda’s smugness faltered and her voice strained as she answered, “Sebastian.”
“Conner’s dad?” Harry exclaimed.
“Gross,” I said. Viv’s fingers never stopped toying with her choker. Her features conveyed the same expression of aloof all-powerfulness as the idol in Amanda’s arms.
“Gross if he wasn’t so hot,” Amanda aimed at me. “He’s even hotter than Bowden.” A tilt of her head. “Come on, you’ve noticed.”
My mind scurried to recall Sebastian Welsh. Blond. Tan. Suit. Cocky smile like Conner’s. Fancy car. Mom and Dad didn’t socialize with him. He’d been over a few times when they designed one of his developments. “I guess,” I said doubtfully.
“He’s like, only forty,” she said.
“Only,” I muttered.
“The best secret, amirite?”
None of us spoke. She left, a swing to her hips, shaking her hands out at her side like she was shaking off a character.
“Was that for real?” I asked.
The boys made indistinct sounds. Viv arranged the beads at her collar. “Amanda would not lie.”
Then came Jess: nervous flutter of hands. Rogue red lipstick on her overly whitened front teeth. “My dad has a drinking problem,” she confessed in a bored tone, eyeing Graham. “He’s been to rehab four times. I think he’ll probably have to go back soon. I think he likes it there. It’s our dirty family secret.”
Next, Trent: refusal to look us in the eyes. A burp loud as a truck horn after the truth serum. But there was something in his manner that made him seem like he wanted to impress us.
“Amanda said she and Conner messed stuff up in his dad’s houses, but they got that idea from me. Con and me, we used to do all kinds of shit in his dad’s first block. It was that shitty street with the small houses that backs up against the freeway? Little dumps. His dad used to put furniture in them to show people what their crap would look like. I jacked a Plasma from one. We sold it at the gas station for a dime bag. Skank weed, too. Ripped off bad, but we were like thirteen.”
“You guys get caught?” Harry wondered.
“You shitting me? No way. Con’s dad blamed the real estate agent and that dude blamed the guy who mowed the lawn. Can I put her down now?” He clipped a candle retreating from the idol.
Rachel: pink, puffy face upturned, ready to confess to the loft. There was sweat beading on her forehead, the hundred tiny flames making her glisten. “Can I take another sip?” She indicated the serum at her feet.
“You may,” Graham said.
Her arm shook lifting the bottle as she took a drag longer than her first two. After setting the bottle down, she bit her lip purple. “I’m totally into this, really. Uhhhh, lemme think.” She hit her palm to her damp forehead, until finally she made a little surprised yelp. “I know: I almost got a DUI freshman year. I didn’t even have my license. But my dad plays golf with a prosecutor and he made it go away. Didn’t even get community service.”
Rachel left in a relieved and sweaty flurry.
I broke the stunned silence. “We shouldn’t know that.” It was occurring to me that secrets weren’t only dangerous for those who kept them—it was dangerous to know them.
“We’re exactly the ones who should know about a corrupt prosecutor,” Graham said, and went to continue, but the sliding door opened and in came Campbell.
Campbell made his way uneasily along the narrow passage in the candles. In place, he looked over his shoulder at Graham. “Wait. I can’t face you all at once. What about . . .” He started to turn. “Is this okay?” He adjusted to face me. I inclined my head with a quick smile, finding it a bit harder to appear the unforgiving Order member with Campbell. He lifted the Mistress and studied her face. “My sisters would either love this thing or be majorly creeped out. Hard to tell.”
“The truth serum,” Graham reminded him politely.
“Whoops.” Campbell cradled the Mistress as he took a sip. “Blah. Oh, crap. That really sucks balls, guys.”
Viv and Harry exchanged a faint smile.