The Bonding Ritual (Girls Wearing Black: Book Four) (52 page)

Daciana waited for the applause to die down, then she returned to the microphone.

“As you all know, the spring carnival ends when I announce the final standings in the Coronation contest. Normally, I would do that right now. But this year is hardly normal, is it? Before we know who will be the next immortal, we must gather in the chapel one final time, and see if anyone has been clever enough to figure out the combination to my safe. My friends, I will see all of you there, and announce the winner when we are done!”

Ryan had been repeating the numbers of the combination all week long.

In his bedroom at night he said them out loud. In the shower he traced the numbers on the wall using his finger.

In the evenings he sat at his computer, typing the numbers on a document, then erasing them, then typing them again. When he went to sleep, he dreamed about the numbers. When he woke up, he immediately said them aloud to make sure he still remembered them.

Ninety-eight, seventy-seven, nineteen, seventy-one.

A part of him knew he was being ridiculous. It was four numbers. How hard was it to remember four numbers?

He wanted to let it go. He wanted to quit repeating the numbers to himself over and over.

But he couldn’t stop. And the fact that he couldn’t stop was disturbing to him. Why had he become so obsessed? From the very beginning of the semester, when he was beaten up and broken down on a cot in a ratty old house in Alexandria, he had been obsessed with winning Coronation for Nicky. Everything else in his life had become secondary to that obsession.

It wasn’t healthy. But there was nothing he could do. The obsession consumed him.

Nicky must win Coronation. She belongs with Sergio. It is her destiny.

Listening to his own thoughts, he realized those words had been ringing in his mind for months now, playing on repeat, not unlike the numbers that would open the safe.

Ninety-eight, seventy-seven, nineteen, seventy-one.
Ninety-eight, seventy-seven…

The numbers blared in Ryan’s mind as he walked into the chapel. This was it. Tonight Daciana would call him up to the altar. He would turn the dials to the correct numbers. He would open the safe and win the enormous prize inside. He would give the prize to Nicky and she would win Coronation.

It couldn’t happen fast enough. Ryan wanted to be done with all of it. The obsessing, the lies, the school, Coronation. He wanted to complete the task that had consumed him for months and get on with his life.

He sat in the front row, looking up at the safe. Jill sat next to him. Daciana entered the chapel through the back. She gave a quick greeting to the students before walking up to the safe,
where she reached into the plastic globe and removed a ball.

“Number ninety,” she said.

Jackie O’Hanna stepped forward. Continuing the tradition started the week before, Jackie made no effort to turn the dials to the right number, but instead went straight to the handle and pulled on it, smiling at Samantha as she did so.

Jackie returned to her seat and Daciana pulled another ball from the globe.

“Eleven,” she said.

Garrett Smith stood up from his spot and went to the front of the chapel. Like Jackie, he bypassed the dials and went straight to the handle.

“This thunk’s for you,” he said to Samantha as he pulled on the door, which gave its familiar sound and remained shut.

Garrett returned to his seat.

“Eighty-four!” Daciana called out.

Jacob Haltham approached the safe and failed to open it.

“Twenty!”

Ryan and Jill shared a glance. Twenty was the number Rosalyn had given to Jill. Sure enough, Rosalyn approached the safe from the back of the chapel. Unlike the other students, Rosalyn made a good-faith effort to open the safe. She turned the first dial to seventy-seven, the second dial to seventy-one, the third to nineteen, and the fourth to ninety-eight.

It was clear Rosalyn had been keeping close track of the numbers Daciana had been calling all semester. Every number she entered on the safe was an actual number from the combination, but only the third number was in the correct place.

There was a mild sense of anticipation as Rosalyn approached the handle, but like everyone else, she got the familiar thunk of a door refusing to open. As Rosalyn went back to her seat, Ryan looked up to the globe of plastic balls. Three were left. Alistair Stephens, Art Tremblay, and Ryan.

Daciana reached into the globe again and pulled out a ball.

“Number sixty,” she said.

And there it was. Twelve weeks of waiting, more than ninety students before him, a semester of spying and negotiating and number crunching, and it all came down to this. Ryan stood up from his seat.

“I’m number sixty,” he said.

“Come forward, Mr. Jenson,” said Daciana. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Moving slowly, deliberately, Ryan walked to the end of the pew and into the aisle. There were two stairs leading up to the altar. Bringing his left foot onto the first step, Ryan heard the numbers of the combination start churning in his mind.

Ninety-eight, seventy-seven…

He couldn’t finish the thought because another rushed in to take its place.

Why are you doing this?

He lifted his right foot up, putting his whole body on the first step, where he stood for a second, trying to clear his mind.

Ninety-eight, seventy-seven…

Nicky doesn’t belong wi
th Sergio. She belongs with me!

Where were these thoughts coming from? Why were they coming to him now? He lifted his left foot again, climbing to the second step.

Ninety-eight, seventy—

I love Nicky Bloom.
In my dreams, we lived multiple lifetimes together. Marriage, children, growing old…it was incredible. Why was I so willing to let all of that go?

He lifted his right foot, and now was all the way on the altar.

“Are you moving slowly for dramatic effect?” Daciana said. “If so, it’s working.”

A few chuckles passed through the crowd, followed by someone yelling from the rear of the chapel. “Come on, Ryan! Let’s do this!”

He took a deep breath and reached for the first dial. He turned it to ninety-eight.

They think they’re going to kill Sergio when he comes for her, but that’s not what’s going to happen. Sergio and Nicky
are meant to be together. Sergio will be too much for them. All the vampire hunters will die and Sergio will make Nicky an immortal.

He reached for the second dial, and slowly began spinning it towards seventy-seven.

It’s okay though, because that’s what’s meant to be. It’s Nicky’s destiny. She and Sergio are meant to be together.

His fingers were shaking now, but he got the dial all the way where he wanted it, with the tip of the ruby pointed at seventy-seven.

Why does Nicky’s destiny have to be with Sergio? Why can’t it be with me?

He reached for the third dial. He spun it to number nineteen.

This is a mistake. She could be with me. We could be together! Jill’s friends, the deluded vampire hunters who think they can kill Sergio, they’re all going to die and they don’t have to!

I don’t have to do this. None of us have to do this!

His fingers were on the fourth dial now, spinning it towards seventy-one.

Don’t do this, Ryan. This has been all wrong from the beginning. I’ve messed it all up. Nicky belongs with me, not with Sergio.
Don’t do this!

Even as he told himself to stop, Ryan’s fingers kept moving. It was like he had lost control of his body.

Stop it!
he thought.
Get ahold of yourself! You’re obsessed. You’ve gone mad! This is madness! Choose the wrong number, let Nicky lose the contest, and then get her the hell out of here before it’s too late!

The
sapphire was still spinning, his fingers guiding it towards number seventy-one.

Why can’t
I stop? Why are my fingers still moving? Stop! Please, for the love of God, stop!

His fingers guided the
sapphire all the way to number seventy-one and he removed his hand from the dial.

I’m not in control,
he thought.
I’m a slave, just like the servants guarding this safe.

Against his will, his feet carried him away from the dial, and towards the handle. With the combination entered, the combination he had been rehearsing to himself all week, he grabbed onto the handle and pulled.

Thunk.

There was a single gasp from the audience.
One person, in the front row, who was audibly surprised at what happened. Ryan turned to look at Jill, who had panic in her eyes.

The safe hadn’t opened. Ryan entered the correct combination and the safe hadn’t opened.

“Well, you certainly kept us all in suspense, Mr. Jenson,” Daciana said. “You may return to your seat.”

His heart racing, Ryan went back to his seat.

The combination he had been repeating to himself all week long was incorrect. At least one of their numbers was wrong. But which one?

As he sat down, he looked at Jill, whose eyes seemed to anticipate his question.
I don’t know
they said.

Daciana reached into the globe again and they both got their answer.

“Number seventy-one!” she announced.

From the back of the chapel, Art Tremblay stepped into the aisle.

“He lied to me,” Jill whispered.

Art walked briskly to the front of the chapel and stepped onto the altar. Leaving the first three dials of the safe exactly where Ryan had put them, he went straight to the fourth.

The sapphire. Mary’s dial.

He changed the number, replacing seventy-one with the very number he had given to Jill.

Number four.

“He knew,” Jill whispered. “He knew her number and he convinced me it was his.”

With a big smile on his face, Art grabbed onto the handle of the safe, and pulled. There was no thunk. This time, the door clicked, and swung open.

A huge gasp from the audience, followed by expressions of disbelief.
The door to the safe was open and the stacks of gold inside gleamed in the light.

“Well, well, well,” said Daciana, “look what we have here!”

The audience was frantic now.
What numbers did he enter? How did he know? Who’s getting the money?

Ryan turned to Jill, whose eyes were looking straight ahead.

“Zack was right,” she said quietly.

“What? Zack?”

“About Art,” she said. “I should have listened to him. I should have known.”

From the altar, Daciana raised her voice to speak over the din.

“Mr. Art Tremblay,” she said. “You find yourself in quite the enviable position. Have a look out at the audience. Find the four girls wearing black.”

Art moved his head back and forth, slowly, his eyes making contact first with Samantha, then with Kim, then Nicky, and finally, Mary.

The chapel was still noisy with anxious and confused students. Ryan leaned in closer to Jill.

“What are you saying about Art?” he whispered.

“Art is getting laid,” Jill said.

“What?”

“Quiet please,” Daciana said, holding up her hands. “We need it quiet in here.”

The noise quickly faded to silence.

“Thank you,” Daciana said. “Now, Mr. Tremblay, you have a decision to make. One of these girls will become the immortal from your class, and you get to choose which one. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Art said.

“Then tell us. Who is the winner of this year’s Coronation contest?”

“The winner is the beautiful girl sitting in the back. A girl I am proud to say is the love of my life. The new immortal is Mary Torrance.”

Jill was helpless to stop what happened next.

“Will Mary Torrance and Nicky Bloom please join me on the altar?” Daciana said.

Like everyone else in the chapel, Jill turned to watch as Coronation’s winner and loser left their places in the audience and walked to the front. Mary was glowing, and had people reaching out to hug her and shake her hand. Nicky was stoic, playing the role that was required of her.

They were in uncharted territory now. In no iteration of the plan had they prepared for a moment like this. After Daciana announced the final standings, she would take Nicky away, and lead her to the Purgatory House.

The girls lined up on either side of Daciana.

“And then there were two,” Daciana said. “A winner and a loser. Tomorrow night, when Mary arrives at prom, she will be a member of the Samarin clan, and Nicky will sacrifice her life to honor our new immortal. In keeping with our traditions, Nicky will spend the final twenty-four hours of her life in solemn reflection at the Purgatory House. Nicky, I speak for all your classmates when I say, we thank you for your sacrifice.”