Code(83)

One of them might be the Gamemaster.

Then Kit was striding toward me, pride beaming from his face.

Offering an arm, he squired me up the catwalk and back to the curtsy spot. Then he leaned over and kissed my cheek. For a second I forgot the danger, reveling in a rare moment of closeness with my dad.

Then Jason was there, taking my hand. “Perfect,” he whispered. Smiling, he turned with a flourish and accompanied me on my final glide down the aisle.

Applause broke out. I saw approval on many faces as my handsome blond champion escorted me through the crowd. Comments floated to my ears.

“Gorgeous. Such regal bearing.”

“A flawless curtsy. Which family is she?”

“Those two make a fine match.”

“She’s come a long way, that one. What a beauty!”

They like me. These people like me.

I have to admit, I lapped up their praise. It felt good to fit in. To be judged and found worthy. Lord knows I’d felt the opposite enough times.

A part of me was disgusted. Why should I care what these high society snobs thought? But I basked in their acceptance nonetheless.

As we neared the end of the catwalk I spotted Whitney in the final row, waving maniacally, dabbing her eyes with a lavender hankie.

A sharp reminder of how silly this was.

Jason and I exited the ballroom.

It was over. The whole thing had taken less than two minutes.

“Nailed it!” Hi crowed as the curtains closed behind us. “A princess for the new generation. Totally Kate. Eh, maybe Pippa.”

“Good job, Tor.” Shelton wheezed a throaty chuckle. “I think I was more nervous than you.”

The waiting debs and escorts made a path. Ashley was standing by the curtain, listening for her name to be called.

She shot me a nasty look. I raised a brow, stared back.

Ashley laughed. Then, rolling her eyes, she nodded in grudging approval.

Surprised, I returned the gesture.

It’s true what they say about bullies.

I noticed Ben watching and quickly disengaged from Jason.

“You did great,” Ben said awkwardly. “I was half-afraid you’d fall down.”

I snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Reality slammed back.

I motioned the Virals down the hall to a spot where we could talk.

“We have to search the basement!” I blurted. “Think about it—the Gamemaster’s clues all led below the surface. That’s the thread we missed! The final cache must be underground, too!”

“Uh, Tory.” Shelton tapped his nose and nodded sharply to my left.

At Jason. My non-Viral escort, right beside me.

“Gamemaster?” Jason looked confused. “Search the basement? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, we’re, um, playing a pretty fierce game of Dungeons and Dragons,” Hi stammered. “I’m, like, the head . . . unicorn master, and Tory has to find my magic . . . beans. Seeds.”

Ben glanced at his watch. “Eight fifty. Ten minutes left.”

“There’s no time.” I grabbed Jason by the shoulders. “Real talk—we’re in some serious trouble right now. There’s a bomb in the building set to explode at nine. We have to find it!”

“Bomb? Here?” Jason took a step backward. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Hi said. “As in, ‘we’ll all be dead if we don’t find it’ serious.”

Ben and Shelton nodded grimly.

“Oh my God.” Jason’s eyes shot to the mass of kids clogging the staircase. “We have to tell everyone! Warn them!”

I shook my head. “The Gamemaster will trigger the bomb early if we tell anyone. We have to find it ourselves, now, and win The Game.”

“What game?” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Have you guys been drinking? Because you’re not very good at it, believe me, and I don’t think—”

“She’s telling the truth.” Ben fist-slammed his palm several times. “Bomb. Here. Now. So either help us search or piss off.”


“I’m with you.” Jason’s voice broke. “My kid sister’s in that ballroom.”

“Then let’s move!” I dashed for the stairs, skirting the mass of debs and escorts waiting for their moment in the spotlight. Most barely noticed. A few shook their heads—the Island Refugees, acting weird as always.

In the first-floor lobby I spun in a circle, looking for some kind of basement access.

“There!” Hi raced to a steel door hidden in the back right-hand corner. “Emergency stairwell. Going down.”

We descended twenty steps to a single door labeled “Electrical.”

Hand-painted below the lettering was a simple yellow image—a rising sun.

“Bingo!” Hi slapped the drawing with his palm.

“A sunrise?” Jason moved closer for a better look. “What does it mean?”

“It means I was right. This is real. Our enemy was here.” I closed my eyes and took a single deep breath. “Time check?”

“Eight fifty-five.” Ben’s voice was tight. “We should hurry.”

Like those upstairs, this door had no lock. Ben went first. Then me. The others brought up the rear.