The Secret of the Sundial / Madge Sterling Series, #3 by Mildred A. Wirt
The Secret of the Sundial / Madge Sterling Series, #3 by Mildred A. Wirt
An Initiation
On a certain evening in early September-Friday the thirteenth-to be exact, a stranger in Claymore, Michigan, might have been startled to behold two figures, grotesque in long white sheets which draped them from head to foot, scurrying along an alley leading to Summit Street. It was an appropriate night for ghosts to be abroad. The moon was in the dark and the wind whistled weirdly through the trees.
The two figures moved stealthily along the boxwood hedge which bordered the rear of the George Brady property. Presently, coming to an opening barely large enough to squeeze through, they paused, glancing hastily in all directions.
"The coast is clear!" one murmured in a low tone.
"Surely you don't expect me to crawl through that tiny hole!" came the indignant protest. "I'm not the bean-pole you are, Jane Allen. What's the sense of all this secrecy anyhow? Why can't we go in the main entrance?"
"I suppose you want everyone to see you!" the other retorted. "What's the use of having a secret society if it isn't secret?"
The second "ghost" silently acknowledged the weight of this argument and permitted herself to be pushed toward the opening in the hedge. Half way through, her sheet caught. In her efforts to free herself, it tore.
"Mother's best sheet!" she groaned. "Won't I catch it when I get home!"
"Hurry up!" the other urged with callous indifference to the fate which might await her friend. "We mustn't be late for the initiation."
They moved swiftly across the lawn, noting that the large white house was entirely dark. They paused at a side door and knocked three times.
Almost instantly the door opened and a third ghost confronted them.
"Everyone is here now except Cara Wayne," she informed, "and of course we don't want her until we're all ready for the initiation. Aunt Maude and Uncle George went to a bridge party tonight so we have the house to ourselves."
She led them through darkened halls to an attic "clubroom" where an oil lamp dimly burned.
"We may as well take off these hot sheets until Cara comes," she invited. "We can slip them on again when we hear her at the door."
By way of example, she tossed off her own disguise and stood revealed as Madge Sterling, president of the Skull and Crossbones, a most exclusive secret society. She was an attractive girl, vivacious and distinctly a leader. Her laughter was infectious; without half trying she had a way of drawing friends to her. Older people said she had "tact" but girls her own age liked her because she was known as a good sport. Madge's mother was dead, and since the disappearance of her father, she had made her home with her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Brady.
The two newcomers were Jane Allen and Edna Raynard. Jane was homely and very outspoken; she made enemies easily yet was a loyal friend. She did not mind her straight black hair or somewhat muddy complexion. Her slender figure was often ridiculed, but she took it all in good fun. Edna was quite the opposite. She was pretty as a picture, plump, and had an inclination toward taking life exactly as she found it.
The other girl, Enid Burnett, was Madge's special chum. Largely through Madge's influence, she had been induced to come from another state to attend the Everetts School for Girls at Claymore. Her mother also was dead, and her father, a well-to-do collector and sportsman, permitted her an unusual amount of freedom. Notwithstanding, she was a quiet, unspoiled girl with a genuine liking for school and studies.
"Is everything all set for the initiation, Madge?" Jane inquired.
"Yes, Enid and I fixed up the basement this afternoon. We didn't dare let Aunt Maude know what we were about for fear she'd put a stop to it. Wait until Cara steps into the tub of water! We bought a nice big piece of quivery liver too that-"
She broke off as three loud knocks sounded from below, and made a dive for her sheet. The others scrambled into their costumes, preparing to follow her downstairs.
"Remember, girls, don't speak a word until Cara is brought up here," she warned in a whisper. "This initiation must be a very solemn affair."
"Have you thought up the main stunt?" Edna asked anxiously. "I tried to think up something but couldn't."
"Don't worry, I have a hair raiser!" Madge chuckled.
She led the procession down the stairs. The girls lined up on either side of the door and then Madge opened it to confront a very frightened little girl who awaited admittance in fear and trembling. She giggled nervously as Madge beckoned her to follow.
Cara Wayne was conducted by a devious route through the dark house to the basement stairs. Madge signified that she was to go down alone. Cara hesitated, sensing that some unpleasant ordeal awaited her below, but there was no escape. She went boldly down. Suddenly, the girls heard a little squeal of fright.
"She must have touched the liver," Enid whispered. "I hung it where she couldn't miss it."
Next there was a loud crash as Cara stepped into an empty packing box.
"I hope she doesn't miss the tub of water," Madge murmured anxiously.
Cara did not disappoint them. A minute later they heard a great splash and a howl of anguish. Since the water ordeal exhausted the possibilities of the basement, Enid was sent down to bring up the unhappy victim. Cara was drenched to the knees but she displayed a studied cheerfulness. They led her to the attic clubroom, seating themselves in a semi-circle about her.
"Cara Wayne, do you promise never to reveal anything which transpires here this night?" Madge asked in a deep, sepulchre-like voice.
There was a long silence and then Cara's quavering: "I do."
"And will you obey any command given you during the next week by any illustrious member of Skull and Crossbones?"
"I will," Cara promised, visions of many detested tasks passing before her eyes.
"And now, one last test of your courage remains to be made," Madge continued impressively. "It lacks twenty minutes of midnight. Exactly upon the hour you must go to the old boarded-up Swenster mansion, bringing back some token to prove that you have accomplished your mission."
For a minute Cara looked as though she intended to refuse, and in truth, the others could not have blamed her. The old Swenster mansion was several doors away, adjoining a grove of pine trees which at night was not the most pleasant place to pass. The Swenster grounds were surrounded by a high fence and hedge which hid the house from view of the street. The place had been closed for years.
"I don't know how I can get into the grounds," Cara protested.
"You can go in the back way," Madge informed, forgetting her pose and speaking in a natural voice. "It will take you some time to reach there, so you had better start now."
Cara looked very unhappy but she knew that to refuse might mean her dismissal from the organization to which she aspired. Reluctantly, she made her way down the dark stairs. The outside door closed behind her.
"That was an inspiration!" Enid praised after Cara had gone. "Madge, you have such clever ideas! I didn't think she'd do it, did you?"
"Cara's game," Madge laughed. "I'd not enjoy going to the Swenster mansion myself at this time of night."
"You couldn't hire me to go near there," Edna added feelingly. "I can just see poor Cara shaking in her boots. I wonder if she'll be able to get into the grounds."
"The gate at the rear is ajar," Madge returned. "I tested it this afternoon to find out."
For some minutes the girls laughed over the evening's fun. Shortly after midnight they began to expect Cara.
"I wish she'd hurry," Madge said. "Aunt Maude and Uncle George will be coming home soon and that will put an end to the initiation. She's had plenty of time to get back."
At fifteen minutes past midnight, the girls were a little alarmed. They cast off their cumbersome robes and went downstairs to watch for her.
"What can have happened?" Madge worried. "Perhaps we shouldn't have sent her alone."
"She's probably trying to worry us just to get even," Jane insisted.
"I think we'd better go to the Swenster mansion and see what is keeping her," Madge returned quietly. "Or if you like, I'll go alone. It was my idea in the first place-a bum one I'll admit."
"Wait!" Enid commanded. "I believe she's coming now."
They all turned to look and saw a figure fairly flying down the street toward the house. She hurled herself through the gate and raced across the yard. Before the girls could open the door, she flung herself against it, crying: "Let me in! Let me in!"
As they hurriedly admitted her, she stumbled against Madge, gripping her in a nervous embrace.
"Did you bring the token?" they asked her.
Cara laughed hysterically.
"No, I didn't bring it but I went to the Swenster mansion all right! And I don't care what you say-I'll not go back! Not even if it means staying out of the club. Nothing can make me go near that horrible place again!"
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
Three years into marriage, Rachael gave her all to Xander, even secretly using her newfound heiress fortune to save his struggling company. But the truth shattered her—her marriage certificate was fake, and his "childhood friend" was his real wife all along. When she confronted him, he shrugged her off with, "She's just a friend." Enough was enough. Rachael went back to her real family, soared in her career, and married Xander's rival. When Xander begged for another chance, her new husband pulled her close, flashing their marriage certificate. "She's already married—to me."
My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon. The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup. I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head. The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage. I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times. Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down.
I spent four hours preparing a five-course meal for our fifth anniversary. When Jackson finally walked into the penthouse an hour late, he didn't even look at the table. He just dropped a thick Manila envelope in front of me and told me he was done. He said his stepsister, Davida, was getting worse and needed "stability." I wasn't his wife; I was a placeholder, a temporary fix he used until the woman he actually loved was ready to take my place. Jackson didn't just want a divorce; he wanted to erase me. He called me a "proprietary asset," claiming that every design I had created to save his empire belonged to him. He froze my bank accounts, cut off my phone, and told me I’d be nothing without his name. Davida even called me from her hospital bed to flaunt the family heirloom ring Jackson claimed was lost, mocking me for being "baggage" that was finally being cleared out. I stood in our empty home, realizing I had spent five years being a martyr for a man who saw me as a transaction. I couldn't understand how he could be so blind to the monster he was protecting, or how he could discard me so coldly after I had given him everything. I grabbed my hidden sketchbook, shredded our wedding portrait, and walked out into the rain. I dialed a number I hadn't touched in years—a dangerous man known as The Surgeon who dealt in debts and shadows. I told him I was ready to pay his price. Jackson and Davida wanted to steal my identity, but I was about to show the world the literal scars they had left behind.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.
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