“There’s a test you have to pass before we officially invite you in.”
“A test?”
“A test,” the pianist said. “Will is going to show you to your chambers now.”
I tore my gaze from him to look at Will, the joint passer, as he set his glass down and stood, walking over to me. The closer he got, the bigger he got and the more he reeked of weed. He smiled a little as he stopped in front of me and it reached his brown eyes, setting me at ease, at least momentarily.
“Right this way.” He signaled toward where I’d just come from.
“Stella Thompson,” the pianist called out just as we began walking away. Will and I stopped walking. That was another thing I hated about rich people. It was as if they rehearsed the exact moment in which they’d call the room’s attention back to their target. I met his gaze again. “The party is at nine. Be ready by then. We’ll have food brought up to your room in the meantime.”
“Okay.”
“Your outfit is in your closet, as well as your robe. Wear both.”
I nodded and looked away. I needed to work on holding his gaze longer, but unlike Will’s, the pianist’s eyes were cold and his expression was hard and it made me feel things I wasn’t entirely prepared for. I held my head high as we began to walk again. I could be cold too. Will stopped at the foot of the second set of stairs.
“I’ll take your bag.” He set his hand beside mine on the handle.
“You don’t have to.”
“My mother would kill me if I let a lady carry her bag up these stairs.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “I insist.”
“Well, at least one of your mothers raised you well.” I let go of the bag and began walking upstairs beside him.
“They’re all pretty okay.” He smiled, looking over at me. “Adam takes a little while to warm up.”
“Adam’s the pianist?”
“Yep.”
“Is he the leader of this cult?”
“Cult.” Will chuckled. “Yeah, you can say that. He’s the president.”
“That’s exactly how self-important people stay self-important, because people keep throwing fancy titles at them.”
“Well, he’s an Astor. He was born with a self-important air and a fancy title.” He winked. I exhaled when we reached the top of the steps, grateful he’d carried the bag after all.
“I believe it.” I looked down at the middle of the stairwell and noticed how high we’d climbed, then shuddered and stepped away from the rail.
“Scared of heights?”
“Scared of death.”
“Hm.” He nodded as if taking note.
“What’s on the other side of the hall?”
“More rooms.” He nodded that way. “Guy’s wing.” He nodded this way. “Girl’s wing.”
“How many girls?”
“So far? One.”
“Where is she?”
“Standing right in front of me.”
“Me?” My brows rose. “Where are the rest?”
“Didn’t show,” he said. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even here.”
“Why? Because I was crazy enough to receive an invitation and report to the address alone without doing my research?”
“When you put it that way, you make all of us sound crazy.” He laughed.
“Aren’t you?”
“Depends on the time of day.”
“Right.” I stopped walking in front of the door he stopped walking at. “Second door to the right then.”
“This one is yours.”
“And the other three girls will stay in the other three rooms? If they were to show up, I mean.” I glanced at each door. “Why am I number two and not number one?”
“That’s the way it was written.”
“Where?”
“In the instructions we received.”
“From Adam the self-important pianist?”
“No.” Will’s eyes twinkled. “From the Chancellor.”
“Sounds important.” I felt my lips twitch. “And self-important.”
“He is both and he has a God complex.” Will took a key out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was on the same red keychain as the ones I had in my backpack, but this keychain had a number 2 written in the front and ABA written on the back.
“What’s ABA?”
“Adam Barnaby Astor.”
“Barnaby?” I frowned. “And why do I have his key?”
“He’s in charge of your initiation, which means he’s in charge of you.”
“Says who?”
“That’s the way it’s written.”
“Jesus.” I breathed out. “I would love to see that book.”
“You will, assuming you make it out of the initiation.”
“Initiation? What does that mean?”
“It means you’re in for an interesting next few days.” Will shot me a kind smile. “Just remember, you chose to be here.” With that, he turned and walked away.
“I chose to be here.” I put the key up and unlocked yet another door.
Chapter Four
The backpack hanging off my shoulder dropped with a thump, along with my jaw as I switched the lights on and took in the room. Huge would have been one way of describing it, but that word seemed insufficient to what I was looking at. It was bigger than my apartment. I left my bags by the door and walked the entirety of it, wondering who in the world would need this much space. Like the rest of the house, it seemed like it belonged in an old European castle. The wallpaper was white and pink, the bed was a queen four-post cherry wood bed with white sheets. The dresser was cherry wood to match the bed. In the corner of the room, there was a sitting area and vanity. It looked like something a queen would have in her room. I pushed the door to the left of the bed open and found a bathroom with white tile and white walls with gold details. There was a large white clawfoot tub in the center of it with gold feet that looked like lion’s and a gold faucet that sat on the back side of it, closest to one of the walls. Surrounding it were four white see-through curtains that were currently tied to four gold, thin poles. It looked like a dream. On the other side, a sink that looked like a small version of the tub, an ornate gold mirror over it, and a see-through shower that looked like it had recently been installed.
I walked out of the bathroom and into the room again, past the bed, dresser, and sitting area, and opened the two doors there, which led to a walk-in closet the same size as the bathroom. Hanging in the closet were three black garment bags and sitting beneath, one pair of black heels and white, fluffy slippers. I unzipped the first garment bag and found a black sequin dress with a modest neckline that would hit me right at the collarbone. When I turned it over, I found the entire back was exposed and also hanging from the hanger was a black mask that I knew wouldn’t cover my face fully. The next garment bag had a white robe. The other, a red robe. I remembered the first on-campus party I’d attended with Aisha and how we’d been spooked by people wearing red robes and hoods. I zipped the bag back up, unpacked the clothes in the suitcase, and set up the phone Dr. Thompson had given me.