Twisted Circles (Secret Society 2) - Page 39

“How much longer are we going to walk?” I crossed my arms to fight the breeze now circulating.

“We’re almost there.”

I’d been dodging so many people calling me crazy and now that I was walking deep into the woods I realized maybe they were right. What sane person would let three guys lead her into the woods in the dead of night? What sane person would let them lead her there knowing they meant to bury her alive. I reminded myself that the task came with dollar signs and potential answers and that was what I was here for. A few more steps and the trees seemed to open up and clear around a large circle. From here, I could see three buildings, much smaller than The Manor, but buildings nonetheless. The forbidden ones, I thought, as we stopped in the midst of them. They seemed to be surrounding the circle perfectly. Will walked over to a spot in the clearing and reached down, pulling up a rope with him. I brought up a hand to cover my gasp. I looked down and realized there were black ropes everywhere. If you were just taking a walk in the woods, you might miss it, or think it was just material left behind from a campsite. As I walked closer to where they stood and saw the outline in the grass of a rectangle, I knew it was the box in which I would be buried. My head was woozy from the shots I’d taken and I was grateful for that.

“How deep is it?” I stepped closer and looked inside. It was too dark to see, even with the candelabra Will carried. The thought of going in there at all wasn’t a welcome one, but I’d signed up for this and I’d see it through. “Am I supposed to . . . jump in there? What now?”

“No. Now we wait.” Adam turned toward one of the buildings.

Not knowing what else to do, I faced it with him. The two buildings on that side were plain and windowless, at least I thought they were until a light switched on. The guys didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, but the energy in the air changed. My skin prickled as I spotted someone walking toward us from that direction. They were cloaked, and from their height, I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.

“Is this the Chancellor?” I whispered.

“No. A messenger.”

The person stopped walking a few feet away from us, right beside one of the black ropes that lay over a rectangle.

“You have been chosen,” the figure said. It was a man. A monk, I realized, to my horror, considering what I saw the other night. “Hand-selected by the Chancellor for an opportunity of a lifetime. The Swords is the oldest prestigious society. Before The Eight, before Skull and Bones, before The Family, before the Freemasons, before Quill and Dagger, and before The Swords themselves came to existence, a creed was formed between Jesus and his apostles. Twelve men would lead alongside Him. Twelve men would tell the stories of His miracles.”

The monk paused. “Later, in Rome, another great man by the name of Giovanni de’ Medici would bring another group of men together. Six men would form what you now know as The Swords.” He signaled at the ground beside me. “Every Sword is tested, as you will be tested tonight. Since the dawn of time, our society has been male-driven, only allowing women to join every thirty years. You may be wondering why. You may be wondering why you wear a white cloak and not a red. The red cloak signifies blood. The blood that has been sacrificed in the past to allow you to be here tonight. Tonight is the most grueling of our tests. Spending the night underground, in a coffin, is not an easy task. Despite the measures we’ve taken to ensure safety, you will find it difficult to breathe at times. We provide you with oxygen and water. Inside you will also find a latch that connects to this black rope.”

He paused again and lifted an arm. “Tonight, your partner has chosen to join you in this task, to show you that he too knows about sacrifice.”

My head whipped toward Adam. He’d be in the coffin with me? I’d die. I’d become claustrophobic and . . . I couldn’t do it.

“If you cannot bear to stay inside, use the rope,” the monk said. “If you do before daybreak, you will no longer be a contender to join The Swords. I’m sure you have questions we can answer afterward. Good luck.”

With that, the monk turned and walked back to the building he’d come from. My head whipped toward Adam again.

“You’re going in there with me?”

“Relax. It’s a two-person casket.”

Tags: Claire Contreras Secret Society Romance
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