Blood Oath

00

PROLOGUE

THE SOUTH OF FRANCE

CONWAY BOARDING SCHOOL FOR GIRLS

The line behind me buzzed as we stepped forward, watching the next graduate walk across the stage. We all wore blue robes with the ugly, matching hats. I placed mine upon my head as Gabrielle, a dark haired siren nervously clutched my arm.

"Don't trip," she said with a perfect smile. "Louboutin or not, your heels are crazy tall."

It was true, I towered over her in these heels and that was part of the reason I liked them. Gabrielle and I had a competitive friendship, and I was pretty sure that after graduation, we would never see each other again, let alone correspond, and I was okay with that.

I lifted my chin as we took another step towards the stage. "As if. I was born ready to walk in heels. Hell, I can even run in them."

She giggled. "I've seen that more than once."

"And I'll do it again tonight, one last time."

"That's sad," she said with a frown. "Don't say it like that."

Shrugging, I moved ahead again. I was the next to be called and promptly fixed my hair. Gabrielle gave my arm a squeeze as I started up the staircase to the stage.

"Penelope Godsworth."

I smiled out at the crowd as I glided across the stage. One foot after the other, I moved like I was on a runway. This moment was mine.

My eyes searched for my parents while I stood in front of the school head, ready to receive my diploma. As my fingers clutched the rolled paper, I looked to where the reserved seats were. There, in the full auditorium, were two empty seats. My parents hadn't shown up for my high school graduation.

Fuming, I tried to plaster a fake smile on my lips as I headed for the stairs. Behind me Gabrielle was being called, and suddenly I realized that this was it. My moment was over, and my own flesh and blood hadn't even been there to see it.

Through the rest of the ceremony I sat with crossed arms, glaring at the stage. How could they? I hadn't even seen them for Christmas, five months earlier, and now this. Gabrielle asked me what was wrong but I brushed her off. It didn't matter anymore, and she didn't really care.

My phone rang as I settled in the limo to St. Tropez.

The caller ID read Mother.

I set it to vibrate and tossed it in my pink Birkin, my last Christmas present to myself. It was expensive, but I didn't pay for it. I charged it to father's emergency card and so far no one had said anything.

"Drink?" Gabrielle handed me a champagne glass as we set off for the docks.

We began drinking and by the time we reached the boat, we were already stumbling. The night went by in a blur and when I woke up, my Louboutin's were gone and I was using my graduation robe as a blanket.

My head pounded as I located my Birkin spilled across the carpet and grabbed my phone.

43 Missed Calls.

2 Messages.

40 of the calls were my mother. Three were her second assistant, Emily. The two messages were voicemails. One was my mother, furious that I wasn't answering, but there was something else in her voice. Something I couldn't' place. The second voicemail was from Emily, pleading me to call back, and her voice wasn't normal, either.

I speed dialed my mother as I gathered my things. I was not ready to face her wrath, but something was wrong and I couldn't wait any longer to find out what.

She answered immediately, talking at me before I could even say hello. "You will ignore me for the last time, Penelope. I will no longer be toyed around by a child in such a delicate time. You are to come home immediately. I'm booking a flight for you that leaves in an hour."

I'm dumbfounded, and all I can get out is a whine about her missing my graduation. It sounds so needy that even I regret it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come, my dear daughter," she spat, "but I've spent the last twenty hours planning a funeral."

My stomach churned, both from the hangover and news that someone had died.

"Who's?" I whispered, scared for the answer.

Mother was spiteful as she said it. "Your father's."