Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) (31 page)

“Hi ladies, how are you tonight?” he asked politely.

“Just fine, Henry. How are your parents doing?” Claire asked.

Henry’s eyes tightened just a fraction; no one else would have noticed. “They’re delightful.”

“Good. Hope everyone is hungry, I made lots of treats.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a hit, Ms. Donovan,” Henry said warmly. I felt like an alien creature in this world of perfect, unwavering smiles. Claire was instantly moving on, but I couldn’t help but linger for a second.

Henry’s eyes darkened, his voice slipping lower. “Welcome to the lion’s den. Be careful. They can smell fresh meat.” His tongue darted across his lips unknowingly, making desire ripple unbidden through my stomach. My inability to touch him intensified the electrical pull I felt. The magnetic attraction coupled with his steady, unbreakable stare was already driving me crazy.

“Come on, Ariel,” Claire barked impatiently. I tore myself away from Henry, not trusting my control to look back.

The inside of the clubhouse was beautiful. All the walls were paneled with rich oak and plush striped couches sat in the entrance hallway flanked by planters full of poinsettias. It smelled of bayberry and unlit cigars, and the air was rich with talk and laughter from deeper inside.

Soft violin music was playing, and I thought it was from speakers until we passed a man and woman playing a cello and a harp. The little band was even dressed up in finery. I was extremely glad to be wearing the red dress.

The main area was full of people, some of them familiar, none of them approachable. The men were all attired impeccably in expensive suits and the women in beautifully tailored dresses. They were chatting in little contained groups, closed off to anyone attempting to join them.

Claire assessed the room for a moment, and I could see her steeling herself like she was about to tackle a troublesome client. She marched across the smooth wooden floor to a group where Lainey’s mother was speaking to her friends.

“Hi, ladies!” Claire said brightly. “How are you this evening?”

Cliff Ford was standing nearby, sipping at his wine. I thought about what Madison had told me, that he’d been home the weekend that Jenna was put into the lake. As if reading my thoughts, Cliff’s dark eyes darted towards me, darkly studying my face.

I left Claire’s side and flitted in between the crowd, trying to keep inconspicuous and listen to what they were saying. But it was all boring business figures and talk about who was dating whom and local gossip. Part of me had been hoping they’d talk about shadow demons and cult rituals, just like that. But of course, nothing was ever that easy.

Claire came back and found me. She enlisted me to unload the car. We went into the catering area, a plain back room with a long counter, a microwave and a fridge. I didn’t look anywhere near as fancy as what lay beyond the doors we’d come through.

We slipped out the back entrance to the car. The sidewalk was slippery and I almost fell on my butt, too distracted by just trying to get through the night unscathed. We loaded up our arms with containers and retraced our steps. It was the long way, around the side and back. I complained about not just going the straight way, but Claire didn’t want to be like one of the wait staff.

Deana was digging in one of the cupboards in the staff room.

“Those look heavy,” she said of our loads, but didn’t lift a finger to assist. “You want to help bring mine in?”

Claire smiled tightly, her eyes daggers. We set the sweets on the back counter to await later attention.

All I could think about in my head were the pictures I’d found, of Eleanor and the original Thornhill Society. I kept thinking I’d see Eleanor again, but now that I was scouting her out, she wasn’t there.

Was Claire really one of them? She’d definitely been looking for my necklace. What would I do if she was? I stared at my mother as she blended effortlessly with her old high school chums.

I felt utterly alone and out of my element, especially since both Henry and Claire were not themselves, playing parts for Thornhill.

Men dressed in immaculate waiter’s uniforms were meandering around, holding silver trays of champagne aloft. Claire snagged a glass and downed it, setting the empty glass back on the table.

“Liquid courage. Let’s mingle,” she said, and we went into the crowd.

Long, beautifully appointed dining tables covered in starched white table cloths lined the edge of the room. Gold and silver painted flowers twisted through gleaming silver candelabras. Twinkle lights were strung all along the walls and ceiling, complimenting the warm glow from the crystal chandeliers overhead .

I passed by Lainey and Harlow, who were both giggling and holding champagne flutes. Their dresses sparkled in the light. Both girls caught sight of me and glared. I was intruding on their turf. Lions, indeed. Again I felt glad that I didn’t wear the ugly black dress.

“They let anyone in these days, don’t they?” Lainey said, making Harlow giggle behind her hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to talk about?” I muttered. They just scowled at me until I walked away.

Claire had jumped right into a group again, her tongue loosened a little by the liquor. Any hesitation vanished, and she was talkative and bubbly. Soon the others were laughing at her jokes. I didn’t like it, though. Her voice was extremely fake, and the tightness in her eyes belied her constant grin.

Henry was milling around in the crowd now, too. I looked sideways at him, watching him raise a glass to his lips. He glanced around and then winked at me discreetly. I felt blood rush to my cheeks.

Dr. Briggs came over, led by Phillip Rhodes himself. He didn’t even acknowledge me, standing before Claire. “Claire, this is the neurosurgeon I was telling you about.”

The doctor held his hand out and shook Claire’s. “So nice to meet you.” He turned to me. “How have you been feeling, Ariel? Any more strange dreams?”

“No more strange than usual,” I said. I could feel Claire staring at me.

“What strange dreams?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. Hugh had never told her about my appointment, and I knew I was caught. Dr. Briggs’ response, however, surprised me.

“We just had a chat about how odd dreams can be and the symbolism behind them. I know the general theory is that dreams are synapses firing or the brain coming to term with underlying issues, but I’ve always wondered if it isn’t something more.”

“When did you have this chat?” Claire insisted, not one to be dissuaded.

“At school,” I stepped in. He remained silent, just smiling. I felt comforted that he went along with my little farce. She looked at me with her eyes full of accusation. Luckily she wasn’t in the right setting to confront me.

Harlow Briggs wandered over, noticing that someone else was getting attention other than her.

“This is my daughter, Harlow,” Dr. Briggs said. “I’m sure you’ve seen her in school, Ariel.”

Harlow was all politeness to my mother, red nails secure on her clutch purse. She didn’t look at me the entire time, while Claire was gushing about Hawthorne being such a great school.

“Is your wife here?” Claire asked.

“Actually, Fiona passed last year,” he said, nodding his head as though to distract himself. He tapped his pinky to the corner of his eyelid, as if to keep away a tear.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Claire said, her hand fluttering to her chest.

“It’s been tough. I think the move will help, though. Fresh surroundings, new schoolmates. Harlow is already doing better. She was very broken up when her mom died.”

I felt a little bad for her, but only a microscopic bit.

Claire imbibed more champagne as she went. Deana came over, put her hands on Claire’s shoulders, and said, “Almost time for dinner.”

There was a white-topped buffet table set up with more poinsettias in vases, and strings of white lights and silver tinsel around it. Silver trays filled with food were set out all along the tablecloth.

Most of the fare was finger foods like cold sandwiches and shrimp. We formed a line, filled out plates, and went into the formal dining room.

I had a flash to Dexter’s dining room. It only lasted a split second, but I could clearly see the broken table and the empty picture frame. Still, I shivered. Henry must have caught it, because he quickly frowned at me.

The guests took their seats at the table, the waiters flipping out their red napkins and positioning them on their laps. I followed suit, mimicking what they did. I hadn’t said a word in a half hour, and I had no idea where to jump in or even if it was a good idea to do so. I’d unfortunately never inherited my mother’s social butterfly ways.

One thing I knew—as far as spying went, this night was a failure.

After the uncomfortable dinner, during which I picked at my food, it was time to get dessert out. I rushed into the kitchen area, looking for Claire. As I came in, I saw her tossing back a handful of pills and swallowing hard. The prescription bottle sat on the counter.

I cleared my throat and she jumped, staring at me. In that same moment, she snagged the bottle and shoved it into her pocket. “I had a headache,” she said quickly. “Would you please help me with the desserts? I don’t think anyone else will.”

I helped her set the trays out on the cleared buffet as fast as possible. When we were done, Claire barely noticed as I excused myself. I had to get out. I fled out the side entrance.

My nerves were on fire. Burning ignited on my scalp, a feeling I’d gotten before after I stopped taking anti-anxiety medication. I rubbed my hair furiously.

I stepped out onto a terrace overlooking the lake. The snow had stopped falling but the night was still bitter cold. It was a beautiful night, despite the frigid temperatures.

There were more lights here, hundreds of them, making the scene glow white and gold like an angel’s wing. Ice sculptures were formed in animal shapes around a small railing.

I stood gazing out at the thin sheet of gleaming ice on the midnight black water. Jenna had drowned in Hush Lake, and despite its nocturnal beauty, its horrible legacy couldn’t be erased. I morbidly wondered how many others had drowned in the briny water.

I sucked in the air, refreshing like peppermint on my tongue. It had been stuffy with perfume, smoke and re-breathed air in the golf club. I wiped the sheen of nervous perspiration from my forehead. Hopefully, Claire wouldn’t want to hang out too much longer. I debated going and sleeping in the car.

Down a stone pathway was a patio area, glistening white iron tables dusted with fresh snow. More ice sculptures stood nearby—a tiger, a peacock, two intertwined koi fish. I ran my finger across the fish and felt my hand almost stick.

Shoes crunched in the snow behind me. I turned, irritated, but the feeling transformed to rash excitement when I saw Henry carving a path towards me.

“Hey you,” he whispered, a little smirk playing on his full lips. He looked incredibly handsome, his features more pronounced and alluringly mature without his long hair. It made me feel a little shy.

“What are you doing out here? We’re not supposed to be seen together, remember?” I wasn’t mad, yet it felt unfair because he had to know what I was thinking. I darted my eyes to the bright lights of the golf club. There was a line of windows up above the ledge, and if anyone saw us….

“I know, believe me. I’ve been fighting with myself all night. But down here we’re almost invisible. You look so good in that dress. I’ve never seen you wear red before. You should wear it every day.”

“That wouldn’t be fun on laundry day.”

He smirked, snickering to himself. But the seriousness in his face, the intensity of his eyes, had started my blood churning.

“I had a dream about you wearing a suit once,” I blurted.

“Oh, really?” he asked. He ran his finger along my collarbone. “What happened?”

“I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.” I remembered, all right. But it had been nothing we hadn’t already done. I felt my eyelashes fluttering.

“Why did you cut your hair?” I asked, trying to erase the blush on my cheeks.

He ran his hands through it, as if he’d forgotten it was shorter. “My father made me cut it.” In response to my look, he said, “I have to choose my battles.”

“You look great,” I said, my cheeks two red hot apples. I turned away from him, trying to get a hold of myself. “Did you overhear anything? Anything referring to the cult or the girls?”

“Not so far. Just boring stuff. Maybe their plans were interrupted; it’s been a long time since the girls were killed.”

“Maybe.”

“I know I promised you I’d keep a respectable distance. But I don’t think I can.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand, a shiver of pleasure running up my arm and to my heart. I turned to face him. Suddenly I felt warm and scattered, my lips going numb from cold and his presence. Lights glinted and sparkled off of the snow around us. I could barely feel the cold anymore and all it did was heighten my senses.

My heart beat hard in my ears and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. The world seemed to speed up, like we were in a spot where time moved faster for us than for those around us.

The danger of the situation only heightened the excitement, as foolish as it seemed. Henry ran his hand through strands of my hair like they were made of silk. He undid the barrette in the back of my hair for better access. “I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try. You’re always there.”