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When I was with them, I felt things I shouldn’t feel. What kind of person was I? Flirting with guys, hooking up, and goofing around while my sister lay in a grave and her killers walked free. Every moment of my life now was dedicated to avenging her, because in that same honest place I was reminded that if I paid such attention to Winter when she needed me, none of this would’ve happened.
Resolve settling in my skin, I got off the floor and took a shower. My outfit awaited me on my bed.
“What the heck is this?” I whispered.
“Don’t like it?”
I spun, holding my towel tight. Going so long without a door, I sometimes forgot I needed to close it.
“It’s not that, I just...” I took in the red-and-black corset dress with a hi-lo skirt. “Where are we going?”
He winked. “You’ll see.”
I flitted between intrigued and concerned. In the end, I chose intrigued and got dressed. The outfit was beautiful and something so pretty screamed for accessories. Black suede boots gifted my feet and teardrop pearl earrings dangled from my lobes. The earrings were another gift from Cato. I stopped asking where he got these things.
Lucien waited for me downstairs, handsome in an understated—for him—black patterned tailcoat and gray pants. He held an arm out for me to take.
“Can I get a hint?” I asked as we left the Gallery, crossing the expanse for the car.
“It’s a place I’ve never taken anyone. One of Regalia’s best-kept secrets. Not even Saylor Burkhardt has heard of it.”
“Hmm. That tells me nothing, but does a great job hyping up the mystery.”
Lucien laughed. “Trust me. It’s worth the surprise.”
I stroked his arm. “I guess I have to.”
Lucien’s car waited for us in the parking lot, recalling the night it lay open and searched as I awaited entrance into Saylor’s manor. For all that she said she brought me there to tell me the truth and stop me messing with the system, I still wonder why she didn’t shoot me an email. Why steal my ring, lure me into that windowless room, and reveal the scroll? A scroll not even the Rogues knew existed.
Like that’s the oddest thing she’s done. Saylor lives in the palace on the hill. Human mannequins parade around in her wardrobe, helping her pick out the next week’s outfits. So what in the hell was she doing lurking around campus in the middle of the night, collecting dirt on her Versace skirt and twigs in her hair? She should’ve been snug in her bed while the servants fanned her with peacock feathers.
“Luna?”
I shook myself, pulling out of my thoughts. Lucien watched me from the driver’s seat. Me, not the road.
“We don’t all have an eternal life, Calais.” I gently twisted his chin toward the window. “Sorry, I was out of it. Did you say something?”
“No, I just picked up on you having something to get off your chest. What is it?”
“I didn’t tell you guys this,” I began slowly. “With everything that happened that night, seeing her didn’t make the headlines, but now that I think about it, it’s strange.”
“Seeing who?”
“The night Rafael met with Owen and the Shits, I was walking back to the Gallery and I ran into Saylor. The girl just tumbled out of the trees like that was a completely normal place to be lurking at midnight.”
“She was where?” Lucien jammed the pedal, lurching me forward with a burst of speed. “Saylor Burkhardt? What was she doing there?”
“That’s my question. She was pissed when she saw me too.” I snorted. “Although, she’s never been happy to see me, so that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Luna, you should’ve mentioned this before. Where did you run into her? Could she have been close enough to see Rafael with the guys?”
I was shaking my head before he finished. “She came out of the copse of trees by the library—nowhere near Rafael’s spot. Something else brought her to campus in the middle of the night.” I pushed up my lips. “Maybe a guy. Instead of putting her hookups through the pat-down or getting it on while his frat-mates howl from the other room, maybe Saylor takes care of business in the woods. It would explain why she looked so rumpled.”
“Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.
“What is it?”
“It’s just that Wilder’s collected info on Saylor and her habits over the years. Obviously, we don’t know everything or we’d have known about that scroll, but we do know hooking up in the woods in the dirt isn’t her style. She’s a complete germaphobe. Haven’t you noticed?”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out as our interactions came into sharper focus. I thought it was rich-girl vanity that explained why Saylor never had a hair out of place or a speck of dirt on her clothes. That’s why she always looked at everyone like they were filthy. Why she hated to touch me when getting her posse to beat on me worked just as well.
