The Rose Ransom (Girls Wearing Black: Book Three) Read online

  Something intense had happened here tonight. Melissa must have killed these people and brought her servants here to clean up the mess.

  Bernadette ran to the back door of the mansion, eager to get inside and talk to Melissa. Her finger was about to press the doorbell when she paused to think about how strange it was that Melissa’s phone was in that van.

  Why would she have left it in there? Why would Melissa be anywhere near that mess of dead bodies when she had servants here to take care of it?

  Bernadette was standing on the stoop, pondering this, when one of the servants opened the back door.

  “Oh, hello Ms. Paiz,” he said. “What may I do for you this evening?”

  He was a big boy, his wide chest and shoulders blocking most of the doorframe. His white polyester shirt was covered in blood.

  “I…um…I’m here to see Melissa,” Bernadette said.

  The servant stood still, his face blank. Bernadette had seen this look before. Melissa programmed these kids on the Farm so thoroughly they never made a mistake, but they also had a tough time making a decision.

  “Melissa called me,” Bernadette added. “She asked me to come here.”

  Again the servant said nothing, his mind in some sort of endless loop.

  “Where is Melissa?” Bernadette asked, thinking a direct question was what this boy needed.

  But now he was completely baffled. Bernadette’s words made him turn his head to one side. His eyes were open wide; his mouth agape.

  Then, without warning, he slammed the door in her face and locked it.

  “What the hell?” Bernadette whispered.

  She rang the doorbell again. Nobody came. She banged on the door with her fist.

  “Melissa!” she cried. “Melissa, are you in there?”

  No response. Bernadette threw her shoulder against the door, expecting it to give way with ease. It didn’t. It was as if a panel of solid steel was hidden inside the wood.

  She took a step back and kicked at it. The wood splintered, but the door didn’t break. This wasn’t a normal door. Something very strange was going on here.

  She kicked at the door knob and found it to be rock solid. It was as if this door was designed to keep an immortal out, or at least to slow one down.

  She kicked at the lock and felt it give. Another kick, and another, five of them in a row and it finally snapped loose. The door swung open and Bernadette rushed inside. She found the boy holding a phone to his ear. She grabbed it from his hands.

  “Hello, who is this?” she snapped into the phone.

  The phone rang in response. Whoever the boy was calling hadn’t picked up. Bernadette pulled it away from her ear and looked for a name on the screen. There wasn’t one. Of course there wasn’t one. Servants didn’t have a list of contacts in their phone. They called one person and one person only. If Bernadette stayed on the line, in a second she would be speaking with this boy’s master.

  She pressed the end button to terminate the call. It was safer to remain anonymous, at least for now. She had to be clever about this. Melissa had brought her to this mansion speaking of treachery and betrayal. Now Melissa was missing, her cell phone separated from her person, and another vampire’s slaves were cleaning out the house.

  She grabbed the boy by the ear and dragged him outside. Probably expecting that she would kill him, he made no effort to resist. They were conditioned for that. At some point, all of them were meant to die at the hands of an immortal.

  Not this time, Bernadette thought. Taking him across the yard and behind the juniper bush, she looked in his eyes and latched onto his brain.

  “Who is your master?” she said.

  His teeth started to chatter and his eyes threatened to roll up into his head. Melissa conditioned the kids at the Farm to respond to their masters only and resist everyone else, even other immortals.

  Bernadette slapped him across the face and his eyes opened wide. She looked in them again and latched on. This time she waited for a second before she spoke.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I’m Ms. Paiz, remember? You recognized me when I arrived.”

  “Ye-ye-ye-….yes…m-m-m-ma’am,” the boy said.

  “I’m one of the clan. You can trust me.”

  “Yes, but…you were asking about…”

  “Forget what I was asking about,” Bernadette said. “I’m a friend, right?”

  There was a slight delay as he processed this statement. Bernadette didn’t have a firm grasp on his mind, but she had enough control to guide him to the right answer.

  You can trust me. I am your friend.

  “Yes, we are friends,” the boy said.

  “What’s your name, friend?”

  “My name is Frankie.”

  “Hello Frankie. Since I’m your friend, it’s okay for you to tell me who your master is, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. I am proud to serve my master.”

  “And who is your master?”

  “My master is Renata Sullivan.”

  Bernadette felt her heart leap.

  “Where is Renata right now, Frankie?”

  “I do not know.”

  “So she isn’t here.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Again his eyes began to roll, but this time Bernadette was able to keep hold of him.

  “No, Frankie. We’re friends, remember?” she said. She had her pupils locked onto his. Through those pupils, she reached deeper into his brain.

  Come on, Frankie, she thought. Let me inside.

  “You can trust me,” she said.

  A brief pause while his old programming conflicted with this new message.

  “I said, you can trust me Frankie.”

  His mind was a maze, all twisting turns and dark alleys. Still, she sensed light in there somewhere. She called for it, begging the part of him that wasn’t Renata’s slave to come forward.

  Talk to me, Frankie. You can trust me.

  “I can trust you,” he whispered.

  “Yes, that’s it. I want you to tell me what’s going on here.”

  “We are preparing this house per our master’s instructions.”

  “Who’s we? Who else is here?”

  “Renata sent a team of six to clean this place up.”

  “You and five other servants?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And she sent you here to take away the dead bodies, those ones you’ve loaded in the van.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And to remove all the computers and any paperwork from the home. The others are at work on that as we speak. They have found a space in the attic that is full of equipment my master will want.”

  “Did Renata say why you’re removing all the computers and files?”

  “No ma’am.”

  “What happened here? Who are those people in the van?”

  “I do not know what happened here. There are three humans in the van, and also Ms. Mayhew.”

  Bernadette felt her body go weak. Her knees buckled. Her throat tightened. It was all she could do to hang on to Frankie’s mind.

  “Melissa Mayhew is in that van?” she whispered.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Frankie said. “Are we done speaking? If so I will return to work.”

  Bernadette took a deep breath.

  “Why is Ms. Mayhew in the van, Frankie?”

  “All dead bodies go into the van,” Frankie said. “Master’s orders.”

  The woman. Bernadette had seen four bodies in that van. One of them was a woman with a hole in her chest. She hadn’t seen the woman’s head.

  “You will forget we ever had this conversation,” Bernadette commanded.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You will forget you ever saw me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I am going to look in that van now. You won’t see me doing it, even if you’re looking right at me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “G
oodbye Frankie.”

  Frankie turned away and walked back to the house. Bernadette went to the van. Along the way, she dialed Melissa’s phone number one more time.

  She heard the chimes as she moved. The sound was muted. There was a pile of bodies in that van. Melissa’s phone was at the bottom.

  She jumped inside. The corpse of a giant man was on top. She lifted it with one hand, pressing it up against the wall so she could get a better look underneath.

  She saw the slim man with fuzzy hair, his body full of bullets. She saw the woman with dark stains around her lips.

  She saw Melissa, lying dead at the bottom of the pile, her heart having been ripped out of her chest.

  The chimes of Melissa’s cell phone were practically screaming at her now, yelling at her to run away, to get out of here before Renata showed up and killed her too.

  Bernadette jumped out of the van and ran back to her car, leaving the chimes of Melissa’s cell phone to fade into silence.

  Chapter 2

  Mattie Dupree came up to Jill and handed her a flute of champagne.

  “Can you believe what happened in there?” Mattie said. “I mean…who would have thought, right? First Nicky goes below the minimum bid, then--”

  “Oh, I know, I was totally freaking out when nobody bid on her,” said Jenny Young. “I was like, come on, somebody bid on Nicky!”

  Jill, Mattie, Jenny, and eighty-nine other members of the Thorndike senior class were gathered for a post-Date Auction party in the bar atop the Hamilton Hotel. The only students not in attendance were the girls wearing black and the boys who won dates with them. Those eight students were already on their way to whatever fabulous week-long getaways they had planned.

  “Where were you when all of that went down?” Annika said to Jake Castillo. “How come you didn’t raise your paddle and bid on Nicky?”

  “I had no idea what was going on,” said Jake. “I was freaking out just as much as the rest of you. It was like you could hear crickets in there when the auctioneer asked for the opening bid.”

  “Bet you’re sad you didn’t bid on her now,” said Mattie.

  Jake smiled. “Nicky knows where my heart is,” he said. “When she becomes the immortal, she’ll remember I supported her from the get-go, even if I got cold feet at the Date Auction.”

  “Did anyone have the slightest clue Ryan was going to do that?” Annika asked, pointing the question at Jill.

  Jill felt the eyes of the entire group turn on her.

  “My lips are sealed,” she said, getting a loud groan from all of them.

  The truth was Jill knew plenty about Ryan and his surprise bid. The real reason for Ryan’s sudden change of heart at the Date Auction was long and complicated. It had to do with a secret Kim had been holding over Ryan’s head.

  Jill didn’t want anyone else to know about that secret.

  But she also didn’t want to play dumb. Ryan’s surprise bid played right into the rumors Jill had been spreading since the first days of the Coronation contest. When Nicky showed up to the Masquerade in a black dress, Jill immediately started chatter among the seniors about a secret consortium whose members would come forward and support Nicky when the time was right.

  For Ryan, the time was right in the waning seconds of the Date Auction.

  His bid changed everything. In the past hour, Kim Renwick had gone from inevitable winner to distant second place. The Date Auction had given Nicky a commanding lead in the Coronation contest.

  All of that could change with the next event. With the girls wearing black all flying away to exotic locations for week-long dates, things would be quiet at Thorndike for a few days. But the night that Nicky and the other contestants were scheduled to return, the senior class would gather in Renata’s ballroom once again, and the next game would start.

  The Rose Ransom.

  The final Coronation event of the fall semester, the Rose Ransom is a massive treasure hunt with the entire school looking for a girl the immortals have kidnapped and hidden away.

  Jill remembered writing those words for Nicky’s briefing book. She remembered all the research, all the computer hacking, all the meetings—more than a month of effort—tonight it came to a head. The Network’s plan for the Rose Ransom was simple, and was entirely in Jill’s hands. She had a ring in her pocket. Before the night was over, that ring would be on the finger of one of her classmates, and the Network’s plan for winning the Rose Ransom would be in motion.

  “Well, even though Jill doesn’t want to share, I think it’s fair to say we owe her a big debt of gratitude,” said Annika. “She’s the one who convinced us to back the right horse.”

  “Actually, you convinced me, Annika,” said Jake. “No offense, Jill, but until Annika sent that text message telling us to go to Nicky’s party after the Masquerade—well, let’s just say I thought Jill was a bit nutty.”

  “True genius is always a bit nutty,” said Annika. “In fact, let’s raise our glasses. I want to make a toast.”

  Annika held up her champagne flute. The others followed her lead.

  “To Jill,” she said. “We’re all so thankful you didn’t screw us over.”

  “Here, here!” said Jenny.

  As they clinked their glasses, Jill sensed the conversation around them getting quiet. The rest of the class was watching them.

  “Let’s do one more, shall we?” Annika said.

  “One more what?” said Jill.

  Annika didn’t answer, but instead turned away to face everyone else, and started thunking her champagne flute with her fingernail.

  “Everyone, I have an announcement!” she said.

  What little conversation buzz remained went completely silent. Annika had the room’s attention.

  “I know that many of you were scared to back anyone other than Kim Renwick,” Annika said in a commanding voice. “And I can’t say I blame you. Just a few weeks ago, it seemed crazy that a new girl could just waltz into school and win the Coronation contest. But it doesn’t seem crazy now, does it?”

  A few heads nodded, a few voices murmured their agreement.

  “Those of us who supported Nicky from the beginning are certain to get a lifetime of government favors when she wins,” Annika continued. “That’s just how it works. And although it is indeed too late for you to be in Nicky’s inner circle, it’s not too late for you to settle this contest once and for all and make sure that hideous Renwick girl doesn’t become the immortal from our class.”

  That hideous Renwick girl got a light gasp from the crowd. No, Kim wasn’t here—like all the girls wearing black she was off on her date—but Annika could be certain that her words would find their way to Kim’s ears eventually.

  Jill smiled. Whatever her flaws, there was no denying that Annika was a girl who had guts.

  “A week from now, we’ll all be gathered again in Renata’s ballroom to kick off the Rose Ransom,” Annika continued. “A month or two after that, one of you is going to find the princess and win the ransom money. If you donate that money on behalf of Kim, you’ll drag this contest out until the end of the year and all of us will be walking on eggshells until spring. But if you give it on behalf of Nicky, the Coronation contest is over. If Nicky wins the Rose Ransom, her lead will be so huge that no one else will have a chance to catch up. Are you hearing what I’m telling you?”

  A few people around the room were nodding their heads; others were looking at the floor.

  “I’m telling you that we can be done with all the stress of Coronation and actually enjoy our last semester of high school,” Annika said. “Think about it. If we already know who’s going to win, all the politics, all the backstabbing, all the blackmail...”

  At the line about blackmail, Jill and Annika both looked at Art Tremblay, who quickly turned away.

  “All of Kim’s nonsense ends if the Rose Ransom money goes to Nicky. Let’s just agree now that Nicky wins this thing, shall we?” Annika finished.

  Mattie and J
ake cheered. Jenny tried clapping her hands, but ended up dropping her champagne flute. It shattered all over the floor, ending the moment.

  Annika turned back to the group.

  “Nice one, Jenny,” she said.

  “Sorry. I just got so excited. You really know how to fire up the troops!”

  “Come on, Jenny,” Annika said. “Let’s get you another champagne.”

  As Annika went to the bar, the party chatter resumed. Jill looked across the room and saw Karmela standing by the window with Josh Manson.

  “I’ll see you around guys,” Jill said. “I need to go talk to someone.”

  With her right hand, Jill set her champagne down on the closest table. With her left, she grabbed hold of the ring in her pocket and tucked it into her palm. She moved slowly to the other end of the bar, trying not to draw anyone’s attention. She failed. Half-way there, Karmela and Josh both spotted her.

  “Hello, Jill,” Karmela said. “Is there something we can do for you?”

  Karmela had an odd way of speaking. Gutteral with r’s that almost rolled, with vowels that were too short and consonants that were too harsh, her English was flavored with accents from the sort of transnational upbringing that sometimes happened among the power elite. Heiress to a jewelry manufacturing conglomerate from Germany, Karmela spent her youth in boarding schools in Sydney, London, and New York. Her birth name was a mouthful for English speakers, so she changed it to Karmela Sweet, a name that spoke to both the color of her skin and the warmth of her smile.

  Of course, Jill wasn’t seeing that smile tonight. Karmela looked downright angry that Jill had the audacity to get close to her.

  “Hi Karmela. Hi Josh. How are you guys tonight?”

  “We’re fine, thank you,” Karmela said in a dismissive tone. “You know, Annika’s little speech was cute and all, but you guys act like there are only two girls in this contest.”

  Karmela’s shoulders twitched after she spoke. She wasn’t a girl who was good at conflict.

  “You know how Annika is,” said Jill. “She does whatever she wants to do and says whatever she wants to say. Those were her words, not mine.”