“Of this,” she whispers, running her hand along my collar, down the length of my tie, straightening my pin. “Being this close to you.”
My heart picks up speed as she touches the cross. Maybe I’ve seen too many monster movies, but I’m pretty sure if the Devil was inside of her she wouldn’t be able to touch it. She must not be that far gone.
“But you’re not afraid anymore?” I ask.
“I don’t know what I am anymore.”
And there’s this tiny moment, a wisp of sadness that passes over her face, making me wonder if she knows what’s happening to her. If she’s trying to tell me something.
“Are you thirsty?” Ali wets her lips.
“Sure,” I reply.
“Let’s get out of here.” She leads me across the lawn toward the main house.
I glance back at the party to check on Mom, Jess, and Noodle, but all I see is Ian Neely smiling at me, raising his glass.
21
ALI LEADS me inside the Preservation Society, down the long hall back toward Ian’s office. It’s dark and quiet. We’re alone. The urge to tell her what’s really happening, to warn her, is too strong to ignore. “Ali, I need to—”
“Shhh…” She presses her finger to my lips and an entirely different urge rises inside of me.
Ali pushes the wood panel behind Ian’s desk and the wall pops open.
“Surprise!” A bunch of people yell from behind the bar—Tammy, Ben, Jimmy, and, unfortunately, Tyler.
“Welcome to the council.” Tyler holds up a bottle of booze, but it’s not a warm welcome. He glares at Ali and then back at me.
“Man, it’s good to see you.” Ben lumbers forward to greet me, clamping his enormous hand over my shoulder. “We’ve been waiting for you all year.”
“Hey, Clay,” Tammy half-whispers as she passes by, never taking her eyes off the ground in front of her. “Welcome to where all the magic happens,” she says completely deadpan.
I can’t help but laugh. I never knew Tammy was funny. Maybe no one knows because they can never hear her.
Jimmy lets out a nervous burst of air, kind of a cross between a laugh and a cough, and then hunches back over the bar, almost like he’s trying to disappear back into the oak. He’s always been an odd one.
“Are you surprised?” Ben nudges me.
“Yeah, I mean look at this place.” I scan the room, my eyes settling on Tyler. More than anything I want to tell him his own dad brought me in here the other night and told me to take his son down. It’d serve him right, his stupid smug ass, but I hold my tongue. Now’s not the time.
For a split second I almost forget why I’m here, but as Tyler pours a round of shots—tequila—I see he’s got his sleeves rolled up just enough so everyone can see the brand on his arm. I mean, who rolls their sleeves up like that? He must’ve seen it in some stupid men’s magazine.
I pretend to adjust my tie, pressing the small button on the top of the cross. I feel skeevy recording all this, but Miss Granger’s right. No one else would be able to get this close to them. And the sooner I get proof, the sooner I can get out of here, and the sooner we can be done with this.
“So, what kind of mark is that?” I ask as I pick up one of the shot glasses. “Is that the Chinese symbol for asshat or something?”
Ben starts laughing so hard he spurts tequila everywhere.
“Yeah, you’re hilarious, Tate,” Tyler says as he refills Ben’s shot glass. “Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I look toward the exit, making a mental plan. If they try to brand me, I swear to God, I’ll tear this place to the ground.
“To us. The sixth generation.” Tyler raises his glass.
I take the shot—liquid courage.
Everyone sets their shot glasses back down on the bar. Tyler refills them.
“What does that even mean … ‘the sixth generation’?” I ask. I pretend to be interested in the photos on the wall, the jukebox, but I’m really just checking everyone out, searching every bit of exposed skin, looking for the mark. I don’t see anything on the others. What if Miss Granger’s wrong? What if Tyler and Ali are the only ones who have it? What if all this is just some weird coincidence? A mistake?
“The sixth generation will inherit the earth,” Tyler says as he spreads his arms out wide.
“Or at least this Podunk town.” Tammy winces as she slams another shot.
“It’s pretty cool our parents are stepping down this early,” Ben says. “Who wants to rule when you’re all old and shriveled up. Might as well get some fun out of it.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “And what’s fun about it?” I look at the five of them stationed around the room like barflies. “What do you actually do?”
“You’re pretty much looking at it,” Tammy says as she leans against the bar.
“We have meetings every once in a while, but we usually end up getting hammered,” Ben says as he downs another shot. “No one can even remember what we talked about.”
It’s like this is all one big joke to them. It makes me wonder if they have any idea what’s really happening.