Page 33

THIRTY-TWO

DRAKE

Sometimes life throws up challenges, and last night was definitely one of those times. The fire closed things down and the party, for want of a better word, ended early when one of the guests literally went up in flames.

Angela called time on our attendance and I’m still none the wiser who my guardian angel could be.

I made certain to send my findings to Ryder and I can only imagine his astonishment at what went down last night.

It’s sick as fuck and I’m still not sure what would have happened in the moment because sure as I’m not a fucking history teacher, I was not going down on Angela flaming Constable last night.

Even the thought of it turns my skin green.

No way would I subject myself to that, no matter the mission.

I’m used to fighting with my hands, my mind and my body, but that physical act was definitely a step too far.

When I returned home, I received a text from Imogen reporting in on events during her evening.

She told me Jesse had decided to take a step back and wanted to start again, finishing up by inviting her to the prom as his date.

I attempted to read between the lines because I still don’t trust that guy, but at least he is backing off from anything else, for now, anyway.

Prom night is looming ever closer and something is prickling at the back of my mind.

At least I’m expected to be there in my professional capacity, but if I was planning something, that would be the perfect night to execute it.

The students are buzzing at the thought of it, but I can’t share their enthusiasm.

We are no further forward in discovering the secrets of this place even though I have my suspicions about Angela.

When I’m at a wall with no place to go, I use physical exercise to channel my mind and as I return home after a two-hour run, I notice a white slip of paper tucked under my front door.

It’s simple words offer no clue to the sender.

I’m waiting at the boathouse.

There is no indication of what time it arrived, but I’m guessing that means now, so after chugging down some fluids, I turn around and resume my run, this time in the direction of the boathouse that sits some way from the academy.

I proceed with caution, my training kicking in and I move stealthily through the trees that frame the riverbank, watching out for any signs of danger, but not really expecting any.

It’s early. Most of the academy is still in their beds, especially on a Saturday morning.

Students party hard and evidently so do the teachers and, subsequently, aren’t early risers.

It’s probably the perfect time to arrange a secret meeting and part of me hopes its Imogen because I am desperate for more time with her.

I note a small figure crouched low against the edge of the boathouse, its crumbling dock definitely a health hazard.

They are dressed in black, their head concealed by a baseball cap and I can’t tell from this distance whether they are male or female.

I approach with caution and as I draw near, they raise their eyes and I detect a young woman who I have never seen before.

She appears anxious and glances around her nervously and as she catches my eye she beckons me to join her.

She moves into the shadows and as I follow her, something about the way she is nervous tells me she is fearful about something.

I maintain my guard and edge inside the boathouse, making certain not to back myself into a corner.

We head into the shadows and I’m surprised when she parts a curtain of greenery and enters what appears to be a cave in the side of the riverbank. As we head inside, she turns to face me and whispers, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Why did you ask me to?”

She is nervous, her eyes flicking into every corner, and her frightened expression tells me she has a lot to lose from coming here.

“I wanted to warn you.”

“Of what?”

Her tongue darts out, and she nervously licks her lips and she is almost shaking as she whispers, “I was there last night. I saw everything.”

“Last night?” I play dumb and she sighs.

“At Angela’s. Say hi to lucky number six.”

She confirms my suspicions, and I smile with concern. “How is your leg?”

“Sore, but there is no lasting damage. It looked worse than it was. The paint didn’t help, but as I planned the entire distraction, I was careful to put out the flames before any serious damage occurred.”

“You risked your life for me—why?”

“Because I’m hoping you can save mine.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you aren’t scared of her yet.”

“Angela?”

Her expression dims and fear twists her smile.

“Last night was pretty tame. A test if you like.”

“You call that tame?” I raise my eyes and she nods, misery etched on her frown.

“Angela uses fear to control her slaves and your invitation was issued the minute she had something to use against you.”

“What was your sin?”

I’m curious about this woman because I’ve never seen her before. I don’t think she’s a teacher. I haven’t seen her in the staff room.

“I’m her maid, for want of a better word. Housekeeper, if you like.”

Her heavy sigh rumbles through the darkness as she whispers, “I was a student here not long ago. Close to graduation day, my parents died in a car accident and I had nowhere to go.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” I reach out and touch her arm in a show of compassion and she nods, biting on her lower lip as she blinks away the tears.

“I don’t have any siblings and neither did my parents.

No grandparents, anyone really, and I was alone.

We rented our home, so I had nothing. My parents lived hand to mouth and subsequently, I had nowhere to go.

Angela took pity on me. She helped me through a terrible time and when the academy closed for the holidays, she told me I could stay here with her.

She would employ me and give me a home and I was so grateful I didn’t think twice. ”

Her voice is full of regret as she hisses, “I should have taken my chance at homelessness. It would have been the better option.”

Fuck! Hearing her story boils my blood because this is shit Reapers are used to and have heard a million times before.

Most of the women who enter our world follow this route in.

Destitute, down on their luck, every single one of them with a sad story to tell.

They are usually running from something, and this woman is a prime candidate for a seat at our table.

She smiles regretfully. “It began as it should. A kind woman helping out another in her time of crisis. I was given housekeeping jobs and a small set of rooms as my place to live. Angela was a good friend. She checked in on me and often invited me to eat meals with her. Then I began to feel a little strange. Huge parts of my memory were missing. I couldn’t remember what day it was sometimes and what I’d done the day before.

I was confused and Angela assured me I wasn’t sick and it was just the effects of my grief.

She gave me pills to help, and I had no reason to believe she was being anything but kind.

I relied on her. My headaches were getting worse, and she arranged for a doctor to call.

He confirmed it was a reaction to my grief and issued more drugs to help with that. ”

Her eyes flash as she hisses, “It turns out the doctor wasn’t even qualified. It was a man as twisted as Angela. A person that stars in my nightmares because it wasn’t a doctor she called that day. It was the devil himself.”

Her story sickens me but is a familiar one. A young vulnerable woman, exploited by people with no morals for their own gain, and I can almost guess what happened next.

“I was soon addicted to the fake prescription meds. It was as if I couldn’t get through the day without them, and Angela was the only source of my happiness.

My mind was all over the place and I would do anything for a fix.

It began gradually when she told me she loved me and wanted to care for me.

She kissed me like a lover and I responded to whatever she dished out.

I was lonely, desperate for affection, and inevitably it led to more.

We became lovers. I wanted to please her, fearful she would send me away and I would do anything – I did everything to keep my place by her side. ”

Her smile is sad and I clench my fist as I imagine what she has been through.

“Angela controlled every aspect of my life and I was glad of it. I would do anything and soon I was drafted into her sick game.”

She shifts closer and her voice is so low I almost can’t hear her. “Once a month, I accompany her to a house not far from here. It’s always on the last Saturday of the month. Angela meets that man along with several others and it’s not liquor they bring as an offering, it’s a person like me.”

She heaves a desperate sigh. “They call themselves serpents and their victims prey. The idea is to groom a person into becoming their slave. The gathering is graduation day for their students before they send them out into the world. They are littered throughout the country as well. That one man traveling to all of them to oversee their allegiance? Angela works for him and brings many members to the society through her team at Rockwell.”

“Team?”

“The members of her Friday night club.”

She shrugs. “Teachers mainly. They are there through fear and their task is to groom a student and mess with their mind like she did to me. When they will do anything for them, they are instructed to prove their loyalty in a final act.”

Her voice falters. “Kidnap. Rape. Murder.”

She’s obviously worried that she’s said too much already and I match her urgency and growl, “You can trust me. I will keep your secret and help you. Firstly, who is under threat here at Rockwell right now?”

She chews her fingernail before whispering, “Jesse Anderson. River Callahan was, but he was shipped off to a hospital a few weeks ago for help.”

My blood runs cold as she sighs. “The other members of the Friday night club are victims of Angela. She controls them through fear and uses them for her personal enjoyment. To my knowledge, none of them are involved in the monthly final act, not since Jenna Sloane left.”

“What happened to her?”

“She was bringing suspicion on the society so she was cast out. When I say cast out–” Her eyes burn into mine.

“I mean, she must lie underground until the dust settles and they find her a new position where she isn’t known.

I overheard Angela talking on the phone and she mentioned a place in California where they intend on sending her.

A college there for troubled kids, and she leaves when the next semester begins. ”

“Where is she now?”

“In her house nearby. Angela visits her there and sometimes I am expected to accompany her.”

She shivers. “I want to escape, Mr. Bellingham, which is why I am trusting you by telling you this. You are new to her club. I could tell the idea of it disgusted you and I may be wrong to confide in you, but you’re my only hope. Please help me escape this place. I’m begging you.”

“Listen to me.” I smile reassuringly. “Tell me what you know. Every single thing and together we will finish this. I can help you, but first I must know your name.”

“Why?”

“Because you are a person darlin’ and not a number. We will start there.”

Her lower lip trembles. “It’s Delilah.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Delilah. Do you have a surname?”

“Grimes.” Her shy smile tugs on my heartstrings.

“You’re not on your own anymore, Delilah Grimes and your days working as Angela Constable’s slave are numbered. Now you have a choice to make and consider it carefully.”

“A choice?”

Her eyes widen.

“Help me bring this society down, or walk away to safety now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have a place you can go that’s ready when you are. A safe place where none of them can get to you. I can arrange your room for immediate occupation, or you can stay a little longer and help me close this down.”

“I’ll stay.” The determined set to her jaw impresses me no end and as I hold out my hand, she clasps it with a surprisingly firm hand.

“Then we’ll shake on that.”

Her smile lights up the darkness. “I knew you would help me. You have the kindest eyes I have ever seen.”

Part of me wants to call Ryder and arrange her transportation out of here, but she will make my mission a lot easier and possibly help save more students than she will ever know.

As we make our pact, my resolve hardens because Angela Constable will walk out of this over my dead body and I don’t intend on dying anytime soon.