Tap & Gown (28 page)

“Good for them,” said Big Demon. “I knew someone would snatch him up. He’s a great guy.”

“He’s an asshole, if you listen to Meredith,” Angel said, naming her tap. “She told us he cheated on her with her best friend.”

“If cheating on a college girlfriend or boyfriend were an offense for which we did not tap, half our club would be out on their ears,” Lucky said. She was highlighting maps with our route around campus. “I listened to the C.B.s.”

“And that had nothing to do with it. We couldn’t have them both, so I compromised,” Big Demon said.

“For which I still owe you one,” said Angel.

“And for which I still plan to collect.” Big Demon stood, stretched, and walked over to her table. “You can start by folding these stupid envelopes. I was never any good at origami.”

Angel frowned at the stack of paper he’d dumped on her. “Is it too late to get that Andrew guy back from Serpent?”

“No one else we know?” I asked Bond.

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“Not Blake Varnham, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bond said. Good. The last thing I wanted was for the villainy of Michelle’s ex to earn him a spot in any society.

The morning passed with few surprises. There was a small snafu when Jenny’s chosen tap turned out to be on the list for the Prometheus Society, but apparently the negotiations with the Prometheans were relatively swift and easy.

“They know about my company,” was all Lucky would explain. “The tech world’s not that big.”

At noon, Soze stomped in, his expression far stormier than the indifferent weather outside. “You would not believe the stunt Dragon’s Head just pulled!”

“I thought you weren’t able to get in touch with their secretary,” Angel said.

“What?” I asked him, though my mind was already running through the possibilities. “Did they steal our list? I knew they’d pull something like this. The Inner Temple was bugged all along, wasn’t it?”

“
They already tapped their class!
” Soze paced around the room, fists and jaws clenched. “Neatly avoiding any negotiations at all! And they won’t release a list. Every society on campus is livid.”

“You’re kidding.” Juno put down her book. “That’s—”

“Unheard of?” Soze said. “Unfair? Intolerable?”

“All of the above,” I said. “Can they do that?”

“There are no guidelines for our behavior here,” Soze said. “This isn’t the Hellenic society that can mete out punishment and make everyone adhere to a standard. All we have is a gentlemen’s agreement. We agree when to have Tap Night. We agree to compete for our taps on equal footing.”

“And
we’re
the society class that’s breaking all the rules?” Big Demon scoffed. “The patriarchs are lucky they don’t have to deal with Dragon’s Head.”

“But they aren’t pissing off
their
patriarchs if they sneak in and steal all the good taps,” argued Angel.

“Their alums are probably happy about this.”

“If they score points on us once again—” Juno said.

“How can we get their list?” Frodo asked. “We have to be able to get it somehow!”

Everyone looked at Lucky, who shrugged. “Do I look like a miracle worker to you people?”

“If we attempt to tap members who have already accepted at Dragon’s Head, what happens?” asked Tristram. “On a practical level, I mean. We’re tapping people tonight, they accept or reject, and then we leave them be until initiation. What’s to stop another society from coming in after us and trying to tap the same person all the time? All it means is they reject.”

“We’re not supposed to be coming
after
anyone,” Soze said, still pacing. “That’s why we arrange to coordinate our taps with the other groups on campus. Potential taps aren’t supposed to be
choosing
between us and some other, lesser society. It’s bad PR. If we come on Tap Night, we’re supposed to be
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the only ones who come. We’re the secret society equivalent of Early Decision.”

“Not this year.” I laughed. “Dragon’s Head is. They got us. There’s no denying that.” And what was the big deal anyway? This wasn’t the unprecedented event Josh was making it out to be. After all, the Kalanis of the world had picked another society a year and a half before we’d even considered tapping them. Arielle had chosen Quill & Ink. Even Michelle had to be convinced.

“And if we go out there tonight, and it turns out they did steal our list?” Soze whirled on me. “What happens then? How do we survive that humiliation? How do we get a new class, knowing that half of our leftovers are about to join other societies tonight, and that we have negotiated with our other rivals to allow it? What if this was Dragon’s Head’s plan all along?”

He collapsed into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. “We’ll be ruined. We won’t be able to concoct a decent tap class out of thin air. Not one the patriarchs will be proud of. Not one that will keep our tradition. And one bad club—that’s all it takes. It would take years to build ourselves out of that slump. They’ve been arguing all year long that we are that bad club. Tapping a great club to replace us was our only means of proving them wrong.”

The room was silent and sober as everyone contemplated his words. But they still made no sense to me.

“When I joined Rose & Grave,” I said, “I had no idea who was in the club that tapped me. I didn’t meet Lancelot until after I accepted the tap, didn’t meet the others until Tap Night. So that part is false. Most people don’t join a society because of the people in the year immediately above them. They join because of the people ten or twenty years before them. Because of what they accomplished, what they created.

That’s not going to go away because of one bad club.”

“But what if we can’t get anyone at all?” Angel asked. “You said it yourself. What if Dragon’s Head stole our taps?”

I considered this. “Honestly? I don’t think it happened. They really would have had to hustle to not only find out who on our short list were the ones we eventually decided upon, but also interview them, tap them, and have them accept.”

“Call the presses,” Thorndike said, her tone incredulous. “Bugaboo doesn’t buy into the conspiracy theory.”

“But you’re the one who saw that Dragon’s Head knight going after Kalani,” Lucky said.

“That was personal. Felicity hates me and would relish the thought of screwing with my tap plans.

Besides, she didn’t know Kalani was in St. Linus Hall either—she ran off as soon as she found out—which means she hadn’t done her own research. I don’t think it was a well-formed strategy on her part. She didn’t want to steal a Digger tap. She just wanted to screw with me. And think about it. Think about our taps. Thorndike’s tap, Tamar, already knows exactly who is coming for her tonight. Has known for some time. With this new openness, don’t you think she’d give Thorndike a heads-up if she was suddenly planning to pick a different society?”

“True,” said Thorndike.

“And then, think about my tap. Topher has been very clear about his family connection and his eagerness to accept. I know he wants to be a Digger.”

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“But they didn’t all know,” argued Soze. “What if they thought this whole time that they were being courted by Dragon’s Head?”

I rubbed my eyes, momentarily weary with the whole endeavor. “Then we get two taps: Topher and Tamar.”

“Three,” said Kismet. “My guy knows we’re coming, too.” He hunched his shoulders. “I slipped.”

“Four,” said Lucky. “I wanted to make sure there were no … misconceptions.” Misconceptions like she herself had had, thinking we were a bunch of Satan-worshipping loons.

Juno snorted. “Do
none
of you know the concept of discretion?”

“Would it have helped us in this situation?” I asked her. “Secrecy may be all well and good when everyone plays by the rules, but here, telling the truth may be the thing that saves us.”

“Bugaboo’s right,” Puck said. “And what’s more, sitting around and waiting won’t help us. We need to figure out where our taps stand without the help of Dragon’s Head. We can visit them, maybe—”

“But they’ll have been instructed to keep their tap a secret,” Angel said.

“Yes,” said Puck, “but we’ve been courting them all month. They’ve gone to our party. If they think we’re the ones who tapped them last night, why would they be keeping a secret from
us?
”

Yet another good point. Puck winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, boy, we all know there are some brains behind that gorgeous face.

“Okay,” said Soze. “Let’s mobilize. Call your taps for coffee, relationship advice, your horoscope.

Whatever works. Those of you who are reasonably sure you’ve got yours locked in can handle the preparations. We’ve got three hours, guys.”

Topher was a lock. Michelle wasn’t being courted by anyone else, of that I could be sure. I looked at the stacks of invite envelopes. “Should I make more of these, just in case we need extra alternates?”

Josh scowled. “If we need extra alternates, we’re in real trouble.”

In the end, only two of our taps were affected by Dragon’s Head’s pre-emptive strike: Samantha March, the chosen tap of Greg Dorian (luckily, his alternate did not appear on Quill & Ink’s tap list—though I was happy to see that Arielle did), and Brianna Patterson, who was Mara Taserati’s choice. But Mara got lucky—when she met Brianna at the coffee shop, the conversation went something like this:

Brianna:
(looking guilty) I was kind of surprised you wanted to meet today.

Mara:
Really? But I adore spending time with you. (She’s such a pro.)

Brianna:
Well, after last night, I mean.

Mara:
Last night? Whatever do you mean?

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Brianna:
Oh, I see. Fine, we’ll keep playing the game. I just hope there are no hard feelings.

Mara
: My dear girl, I haven’t the foggiest clue of what you speak.

Brianna:
I mean, you’ve been great. And your … friends. They’re very nice, too. It’s just … I really wanted to join Rose & Grave, now that they let in girls.

Mara:
(chokes on her coffee) Huh?

Brianna:
I know it’s a long shot, but … well, that’s why I rejected.

Mara:
Brianna, my darling, I must be off. Toodle-loo!2*

As the drizzly dusk settled over campus, we reconvened at the tomb to dress and dole out supplies.

With the addition of Poe, we’d split into three teams of five so as to tap as efficiently as possible, and as we gathered matches, black candles, and robes, anticipation hung more heavily than the warm spring fog outside. This was it. Our Tap Night. The culmination of D177’s year as the Knights of Rose & Grave.

We mingled about the Grand Library, checking maps and routes and making last minute adjustments to procedures and costumes. Lucky’s robe needed the hem repaired.Thorndike’s magenta dreadlocks kept slipping out from under her hood, so we needed to procure a black bandanna to tie them back. Lil’

Demon needed to be informed that spike-heeled patent leather boots were not appropriate footwear for racing about slippery New Haven streets.

Poe came over and tugged my cape. “You look cute in a hood.”

“That’s not a line that works with many women, is it?”

“I don’t try to use it on many women.” His own hood was already in place, shadowing his eyes and leaving little more than his cheekbones and jawline exposed.

I raised myself on my tiptoes and kissed said jaw. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this dozens of times.”

“And you look cute every time.” Ah, now, up close, I could see his eyes, gray and filled with the same excitement as all the other knights. Or was it the same? His gaze sent tingles all the way down my thighs.

He was thinking of what he’d said outside the bar the other night. And so was I.

I dropped back on my heels and played it light. “Great. A cute Grim Reaper.”

“The better to lure you toward death,” Poe replied in his best Vincent Price. Yes, this is what passed for flirtation in his world. It’s what happens when your boyfriend is born on Halloween and given free rein to live out his fantasy life in a crumbling, tomb-like mansion filled with human skeletons and spooky costumes. Maybe Lil’ Demon had a point about the kink.

I swatted him and went back to packing extra matches. My anticipation had taken on an entirely new object. Kink or no, I was going to find out what was going on underneath that man’s robe.

The grandfather clock in the Grand Library struck eight o’clock while we knights stood in a circle, reciting our oaths. Each clang of the bell buzzed through my body like an engine being revved. I could feel it all around, every knight tugging tightly against an invisible tether, ready to bolt the second we were
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able. By the time the echo of the final chime had reverberated through the room and its occupants, we were all holding our breath.

“Okay, knights,” said Soze, the evening’s Uncle Tony. “Go get ’em.”

And off we ran.

Our first target to tap was Omar’s choice: the Israeli engineer Tal Yitzchach. To own the truth, I was mildly nervous about how this would go down. Society tradition dictated that we were to burst into his room, fully robed, carry him bodily to an undisclosed, pitch-black location (in this case, the broom closet down the hall from his apartment), and ask him if he wanted in. All well and good, until you considered that Tal was ex-military and an expert at the art of krav maga. If we caught him by surprise, he might break all our necks.