Page 29 of Speak No Claim

How much more does Deja know that I don’t? Does my family? If they know, why didn’t they tell me?

The redhead immediately stood, calling out, “So this is her.”

The other girls smiled.

“The legend herself.” She extended her hand. “I’m Luna.”

I shook it. “Legend?”

“You embarrassed half the Legacy Council the other night.” Luna smiled, big and wide. “My father was furious.” She beamed at me. “I’ve never loved a stranger more.”

I blurted, “Your father?” Thinking she was another Devereaux.

A bit of relief washed over me when she replied, “The dean.”

“Oh…”

Luna looped her arm through mine like Deja just had. “We’ve been waiting all our lives for somebody to knock them off their pedestal.”

One of the other girls leaned closer. “It was the most entertainment we’ve seen in weeks.”

For the first time since arriving in Connecticut, I laughed. It escaped before I could stop it while the knot in my stomach loosened.

Deja nudged me with her shoulder. “Now, rule number one is⁠—”

That got my attention. “There are rules?” I interrupted, remembering the encounter with the makeup artist and hair stylist.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to…”

“More like survival tips.” Luna pointed toward a massive stone building crowned by gargoyles. “Don’t go past that building.”

“Why?”

“No one knows. The Brotherhood uses it.” Luna continued, “Now rule number two. Don’t ask questions about the chapel.”

“Why?”

Silence.

Every girl exchanged a look.

“And rule number three,” Luna went on, shifting her stare to me. “If you ever see the Brotherhood…” She lowered her voice. “Move.”

I had no idea what she was referring to. “The Brotherhood? Who is that?”

Before anyone answered, the hallway ahead changed. Students stopped talking, and those standing in the center naturally drifted to the sides.

Then the doors opened, and more people stepped aside.

“What’s happening?” I whispered to myself.

Again, no one answered. It was when I saw them. A group of guys emerged from the far end of the corridor, walking with the kind of confidence money couldn’t buy. It was all about power, and each one defined a different type of inheritance.

Their black blazers were nowhere to be found. Their ties were loosened. Some weren’t even wearing one. It was the opposite of what I’d already seen the other students wearing, as if the rules didn’t apply to them. They had no books and no backpacks, as education bent around them.

They spread a little. It was then I noticed the guy right in the middle.

Onyx Devereaux.