The Festival of the Moon (Girls Wearing Black: Book Two) (19 page)

“Yeah…I guess he is.”

“And what you’re really saying is that this little embezzling racket they’re running might be much bigger than skimming off the top at Palace Immortalis.”

Vince tried to gulp, but there wasn’t any saliva in his mouth to go down.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Kim gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then she let it go, giving him his arm back.

“You’ve done well,” she said. “And you’re officially on my team now.”

Vince nodded, a layer of sweat lubricating the movements between his neck and collar.

“I can see that you understand how serious of an error you made,” Kim continued. “And there’s no denying that it cost me dearly. Had you not gone to Nicky’s party, Mattie Dupree wouldn’t have gone either. And without Mattie, Annika wouldn’t have been so sure of herself. And without Annika, Nicky’s whole crew of supporters comes unglued.”

“I’ll fix this today,” Vince said. “I’ll tell Mattie we’re with you. We’ll tell all our friends. We’ll badmouth Nicky and her after-party. We’ll break up her little band of supporters. We’ll--”

Kim held her hand up to silence Vince. “I don’t want you to do anything of the sort,” she said. “In fact, what I need from you is to keep our little conversation today a secret. You have access to Nicky, and I want that access. I want you to pretend you’re still one of her people, right up to the Date Auction. Nicky won’t know you’re on my side until the moment you raise your paddle and bid three million dollars on me.”

“Three million dollars! Even if I win the Brawl I won’t have that much money to spend.”

“You’ll get the money from your father. He’s got plenty.”

“But three million for the Date Auction. That would…”

“Yes, that would be a new record. I’m worth it, don’t you think?”

She had a sinister smile on her face as she spoke the words. Vince felt like he might throw up.

“I suppose now is the time you show me what you’ve got on my father so I can blackmail him with it, right?” Vince said.

“Right you are,” said Kim. “Here it is.”

She reached behind her head and unclasped her necklace. She flipped the pendant over in her hand. There was a tiny digital screen on the back. She pressed against it with her finger, and her own voice came out.

“Hello Vince, glad you could make it.”

She slid the necklace across the table. “Take it,” she said. “Our entire conversation is recorded on there. You can play it for your dad when you ask for the money.”

“But…I don’t…I need documents or pictures or something. You said you had proof. Just give me what you’ve got so I can give it to my dad and tell him we need to pony up the money.”

“I don’t have anything, Vince, except what’s in your hands right now.”

Suddenly Vince felt very small.

“Are you saying that--”

“Yes, Vince, I’m saying that I had no idea what your dad was up to at all until you told me. Of course, now that we know where to look, my dad and his helpers will find plenty, I’m sure. Skimming off the top at Palace Immortalis, stealing money from your own vault, all of it with this partner named Sammy…what was Sammy’s last name?”

“Donatelli,” Vince said quietly. “His name is Samuel Donatelli.”

“Just a minute while I write that down. Will you spell it for me?” Kim said, as she pulled a pen from her purse and reached for a napkin.

“It’s D-O-N-A-T-E-L-L-I.”

Kim wrote the letters slowly in a sweet, girly script. “So anyway, send that recording to your father,” she said. “I recommend you use an overnight service so you and he can start talking about the money tomorrow.”

Vince was numb. The thought of asking his father for three million dollars, of telling him that they had to pay it because Vince couldn’t keep his mouth shut…

“Well, it’s been lovely,” Kim said. “But I should get back to school. Fifth period starts in ten minutes. Leave the waiter a nice tip, will you? I come here a lot and would hate for them to think poorly of me.”

“Right,” Vince said.

Kim stood up and left, closing the door behind her. A minute later, the waiter came in and looked at all the food on the table. Not a bite of it had been eaten.

“Are you still working on this, Sir?”

“No,” Vince said. “No. Take it all away.”

Chapter 17

Nicky went into fourth period hopeful that she and Ryan could talk. Ryan wasn’t at his desk when she arrived. He came to class right as the bell rang. Moving quietly across the room, he dropped
 
a folded piece of paper on Nicky’s desk as he passed.

Later in the period, after Mr. Matteo had finished his lecture on derivatives, Nicky excused herself to go to the bathroom so she could unfold the paper and look at in in private.

Dear Nicky,

I got really angry when I learned you were with Art last weekend. I understand you need Art to bid on you at the Date Auction, so it’s completely unfair of me to be angry, but I was, or rather, I am. Just thinking about you and him at his house, about him getting to be with you not because you want it, but because you need his money—it’s just sick. Everything about this school and this contest is sick and I wish there was something we could do about it.

But sadly, we can’t. You were correct at the Masquerade when you told me we can’t just leave. There are too many people we care about that would be hurt if we disappeared. You have to give Art what he wants; I have to give Kim what she wants. And as long as we’re stuck in this hellhole, we’re only inviting sadness into our lives when we talk on the phone and in math class.

I’m going to quit calling you now. Tomorrow in fourth period I’m going to sit far away from you. I’m not going to say hi when I see you in the halls. I’m going to do my best to forget about how easy it is to talk to you and how happy I feel when I hear your voice.

I want you to be alive when all of this is over. I want you to feel free to do the things you have to do to compete with Kim, even the ugly things, without worrying about what I think. I don’t want to be in your way, so I’m saying goodbye now.

Good luck.

Ryan

The letter should have set Nicky free. It should have released her from all the confusion and emotional drama she was feeling—drama that Ryan understood all too well and wanted to end.

But it did just the opposite. It made her blood boil. It made her angry at the world that was conspiring to keep her and Ryan apart, and as the week went on, that anger distracted her from the work she had to do.

Instead of maintaining her relationships with Art, Marshall, and Vince, she kept to herself as she walked between classes. Instead of hanging out with Annika and the gang after school, she made up excuses and went off to be alone. Instead of sitting with Jill and discussing strategy, she took long drives across town.

And when she was on those drives, she let the engine of the Vicenza roar and left Melissa’s ever-present slaves in the dust.

Her first week as a girl wearing black came and went and she knew she was doing a terrible job at it. But she didn’t care. How could she focus on the inanities of life as a Thorndike student when she knew that Melissa Mayhew had tortured and killed her father? How could she think about Art and Marshall and Vince when she knew Frankie was stuck in Renata’s mansion? How could she keep her mind on the Coronation contest when every night she drifted into the same disturbing dream about a silver sphere and a monstrous version of her mother?

Gia called a debriefing meeting at Nicky’s house on Thursday.

“Let’s talk about the Date Auction,” Gia said. “It’s only a week away. Which boys are bidding on Nicky and what are we doing to make sure Kim doesn’t steal them away?”

Jill and Nicky shared a glance, neither of them eager to speak.

“Is something going on between you two?” Gia said.

“No, everything’s fine,” said Jill. “The most important guy for the plan is Art. Nicky and I went to see him on Sunday night.”

“You went too?” Gia said to Jill. “What were you doing there?”

“She was there to break into the TPM database after I drugged Art to sleep,” Nicky said.

Gia raised her eyebrows. “Okay. Tell me more,” she said.

Nicky began the story with the “hangover tonic” and ended with Art in his bed, half-empty bottles of pills and wine on the nightstand next to him.

“Unfortunately, the data didn’t hold,” Jill said.

“What do you mean it didn’t hold?” asked Gia.

“There was a logic bomb embedded in the code. Once we got it on Alvin’s servers the data turned to mush,” said Jill.

“You’re telling me you risked the support of Nicky’s wealthiest backer for nothing?” said Gia.

“Not for nothing,” said Jill. “Nicky found a secret room in the house. It was very interesting.”

As Jill described Merv’s human trophies, Nicky pulled out her phone to show pictures of all the paperwork they found in Merv’s desk, including the letter from Falkon.

“So Merv is talking to Falkon Dillinger,” Gia said. “Are we going to use this to blackmail Art?”

“We don’t need to blackmail Art,” said Nicky. “I spent time with him on Monday. He’s still with us.”

“A lot could have happened since Monday,” said Gia. “Maybe you should spend time with him again tomorrow, and maybe if you get the slightest sense that he’s having second thoughts, you should use this letter against him.”

“Sure, whatever,” Nicky said.

“Okay, spill it,” said Gia. “Something’s up with you. What is it? Is it what Melissa told you after the Masquerade?”

“That’s part of it, yeah,” said Nicky.

“Part of it but not all of it?” said Gia.

“Maybe all of it, I don’t know. It’s hard to pretend to be a snotty rich girl when you just learned that your father was tortured and killed. It’s hard to care about the whims of a few spoiled brats at school when you know your friend is being held as a slave in a vampire’s mansion.”

“We’ll get your friend out, Nicky,” said Gia.

“When? He turns eighteen in December, you know. We don’t have a lot of time. We should be planning the rescue already.”

“I don’t know,” said Gia. “Right now a break-in at Renata’s doesn’t fit the plan.”

“Then the plan needs to change.”

“Do we need to end this mission now?” Gia said. “Because I’m starting to think you’re not up for it. Do I need to remind you that Melissa Mayhew is watching your every move? Brawl in the Fall is tomorrow night and she might decide to come. That’s why I called this meeting. I want to talk about a plan to kill her. But if your head isn’t in the game, we might as well forget it. You’ll be killed and the mission will be over. So what do you say, Nicky? Are you still up for this or do we need to get you out of here?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nicky said.

“That’s not what I asked you,” said Gia.

“But that’s what I’m telling you,” said Nicky. “I’m not going anywhere until Melissa is dead and Frankie is free.”

That night the dream began in a different way. It started outside Renata’s mansion. She was standing with Ryan, Art, and Marshall. All of them were looking through a window and watching Frankie work inside the house. Nicky asked the guys if they would help her break in and they all refused, so Nicky went through the front doors alone. It seemed so easy to step inside, and for a minute she thought she and Frankie might walk out together.

But then Renata’s mansion disappeared, and she was back in the mountains, back with the silver sphere and her mother. It was night. A huge, blood red moon hung overhead. Sergio appeared beside her.

“You’ve come back,” Nicky said to him. “You’ve been away for a few nights.”

Sergio nodded once, then pointed behind Nicky, back to the building where Nicky’s mother was about to break through the glass. Knowing she only had seconds left before the dream was over, Nicky turned to Sergio and asked, “What does it mean? Why am I coming back here every night?”

“This scene is buried deep in your memory,” he said. “Your conscious mind has been hiding it from you, but it wants to come out.”

The glass shattered and Nicky’s mom came running, her yellow teeth dripping with drool, her gray face pulled tight over her skull. She was running as fast as ever, but somehow, in the strange way dreams sometimes work, Nicky still had time to talk to Sergio before her mother arrived.