Chapter 23
We followed the crowd back into the foyer. The atmosphere was tense, speculation swirling. A staffer quickly removed the table of syringes, while the Dean’s PR team assured donors that Sophie was “resting comfortably.”
Amid the confusion, I spotted Kate lurking near a column, phone in hand. Catching my eye, she mouthed: “Need a statement.”
I shook my head subtly, indicating I had nothing immediate. She typed furiously, probably sending updates to the Undercurrent or the Howler. My own phone vibrated with a message from Harry:
Harry : “Rumors of a medical mishap at the gala. Any details? We want the scoop!”
I tensed. He was stepping right into the hornet’s nest. With the Skulls in damage-control mode, the slightest leak could provoke them. But maybe that’s precisely what we needed.
Anubis’ hand brushed mine. “We should keep a low profile. The Dean must be furious. She’ll suspect sabotage or sabotage gone wrong.”
Nodding, I forced a casual stroll toward the exit. “Yes. Let’s slip out before they close ranks.”
We weaved through clusters of anxious guests, stepping outside into the crisp night air. It was a relief to breathe again, away from the stifling hush of the mansion. The hedges rustled in a light breeze, and the moon glowed overhead.
Just as we reached Anubis’ Porsche, my phone buzzed yet again with an unknown number:
Unknown : “Meet me by the greenhouse. Urgent. Alone.”
My stomach clenched. The greenhouse sat on the mansion’s east lawn, rarely used after dark. This could be a trap or a lead. I showed the text to Anubis, who scowled.
“You can’t go alone,” he said firmly.
I exhaled shakily. “We need answers. If it’s a trap, at least we’ll confirm who’s behind it. But I won’t be alone. You can watch from a distance.”
He gripped my hand, tension radiating. “Alright. But if anything goes wrong…”
I gave a curt nod. “You jump in.”
We circled around the mansion’s eastern side, where the greenhouse nestled among tall shrubs and garden statues. Faint light from the interior cast ghostly reflections on the glass panes. My heels clicked softly on the flagstone path.
Anubis hung back behind a statue, phone in hand, ready to call for help. With a racing heart, I stepped toward the greenhouse door, pushing it open quietly.
Inside, the humid air smelled of damp earth and exotic blooms. Faint overhead lights revealed rows of potted plants, climbing vines, and a narrow walkway. No sign of movement at first.
Then a figure emerged from behind a row of tall ferns: Dr. Lansing. My heart lurched. She still wore the same lab coat from the demonstration, though her hair was disheveled, and her expression was a mix of desperation and worry.
“You’re…that student,” she whispered, scanning me uncertainly. “The one always with Captain Edenvane. I recognized you from the stage.”
I relaxed a fraction. She wasn’t the typical black-suited enforcer. But my guard stayed up. “Why did you call me here?”
She exhaled in a rush. “I had to talk to someone who might understand. Someone in the Skulls.”
“You think I’m in the Skulls? What are you talking about?” I tried to lie.
“Come on. I know enough to know an Edenvane would be.” She reached out and tugged my shawl exposing the crest on my shoulder. “You wear a fresh mark which means you’re a novice. But clearly you’re not one of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have that same dress you’re wearing. So, I suspect you’re here on scholarship if not the lottery winning student. Also, I’ve heard enough to know the highest in their society pair up with the lowest. Most of these women don’t survive after they bear heirs… But the Undercurrent gave me your number. Said to tell you my story… Listen, Sophie’s reaction was severe, but it shouldn’t have happened. We tested that formula so many times on…volunteers.” Her lips twisted on that final word. “I suspect sabotage.”
My mind whirled. “Sabotage by who?”
She shook her head. “If I knew, I’d say. But the formula is gene-based, tailored to the unique Edenvane lineage. Anubis’ father insisted on pushing the trials forward, especially for family members. He said it would ‘strengthen their legacy.’”
I stared, goosebumps on my arms. “You mean the brand of the Skulls is about more than tradition? They want to alter or enhance certain bloodlines?”
Dr. Lansing hesitated, clearly conflicted about revealing secrets. “Listen, I was hired for legitimate research—CRISPR gene therapy to fight rare genetic diseases. But the Dean demanded we shift focus to ‘heritage-based augmentation.’ She claimed it would secure Edenvane’s future. I…didn’t ask many questions at first, but now I regret it.”
A swirl of dread. My mother’s strange mention of me having “Edenvane eyes,” the genealogical record that hinted I carried Edenvane blood. Could they plan to use me for these tests?
I forced a calm tone. “Why tell me?”
She glanced toward the door, voice trembling. “Because Sophie’s meltdown means someone changed the formula. It might be another faction within the Skulls. Or an outside group. If this escalates, they’ll tear each other apart and blame me, or you, or anyone vulnerable.”
My mind reeled. Toccara’s murder might have been a power move or cover-up. Now a sabotage within the Skulls themselves?
Dr. Lansing grabbed my wrist lightly. “Take care. You’re close to Captain Edenvane. His father is a major investor in this research. Don’t trust anyone.” Her eyes flicked over my shoulder, spotting a faint silhouette: Anubis lurking outside. She swallowed. “Not even him, if it comes to that.”
Anger flared. “Anubis has risked everything for me. He’s not the threat.”
She sighed, releasing me. “I hope you’re right. But these people…they’ll discard any bond to protect their power. If you have evidence of wrongdoing, gather it quickly before they bury you with the secrets.”
Footsteps crunched outside. Dr. Lansing stiffened. “I have to go. Good luck.”
She darted out a side door, leaving me breathless, mind spinning. Sabotage from within the Skulls. Possibly two factions jockeying for control. And the Dean’s twisted gene therapy might revolve around ensuring the ‘purity’ of the Edenvane line. Fear coiled in my belly.
Exiting the greenhouse, I found Anubis stepping into the path, worry etched on his face. “I saw someone run off. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “It was Dr. Lansing. She claims the formula was sabotaged. The meltdown might be an internal Skulls conflict.” My voice quivered with the weight of revelations. “They’re apparently aiming to ‘strengthen’ the Edenvane legacy through gene editing. She warned me not to trust anyone.”
Anubis listened, features tightening. “Including me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe her?”
“No,” I said firmly, placing a trembling hand on his chest. “I trust you. But her warning stands. The Skulls play for keeps. If they suspect we’re working against them, we’re dead.”
He drew me into a protective embrace, the night breeze ruffling our hair. My brand throbbed, reminding me of the forced vow that bound me to their twisted agenda. Yet Anubis was the one anchor keeping me from drowning.
Under the moonlight, our foreheads touched. “We have to keep going,” he whispered, voice raw. “We have enough leads. Toccara’s death, sabotage, gene therapy. If we can piece it all together—”
“—we can blow the Skulls open,” I finished, a surge of determination fueling my shaky limbs.
He held me, and for a heartbeat, I let myself sink into the warmth of his presence.
In that quiet moment, we shared a soft, desperate kiss, the hush of the moonlit garden holding them in fragile serenity. The darkness around us only sharpened our need for each other, a spark of hope in a world of secrets. As the wind carried the scent of greenhouse flowers, we clung to the possibility of forging our own destiny together, no matter what the Skulls demanded.
Eventually, the chill forced us to break apart. Our plan was unspoken but clear. We’d gather every scrap of evidence we could, about Toccara, about sabotage, about the Edenvane lineage project, and find a way to get it to Harry and Kate’s Undercurrent or the Howler.
We left the mansion through a side exit to avoid the main crowds, cutting across the lawn toward Anubis’ parked car. The night had grown quiet. The marquee lights at the mansion’s entrance faded behind us. My heart throbbed with the sense that we were being watched.
“Let’s just get to the caretaker’s cottage,” Anubis murmured. “We can regroup there.”
But as we approached the car, a shape emerged from behind a tall hedge. My muscles tensed, preparing to run or fight. Then the figure stepped forward, a tall man with a black coat, hair slicked back. I recognized him as one of the watchers from our initiation, the same one who’d escorted us to the crypt.
He regarded us with a solemn gaze. “Captain Edenvane. Nubia.”
Fear spiked, but Anubis spoke calmly. “It’s late. What do you want?”
The man pressed his lips into a thin line. “A friendly caution: The brand on your shoulders isn’t just a mark of belonging. It’s also a target. Some within the Skulls question your loyalty. They suspect you of double-crossing after the library sabotage fiasco didn’t yield full access.”
My stomach lurched. So, they knew we’d faked the library infiltration?
“Prove them wrong,” he continued. “Or they’ll finish you as they did your friend Toccara.”
My breath caught. “So, you admit Toccara was murdered?”
He offered a noncommittal shrug, though his eyes flickered. “Murder, suicide, it’s all a matter of perspective. She failed to comply. The society has ways of removing obstacles.”
Anubis’ fists clenched. “Why warn us, then?”
A faint sneer touched the man’s mouth. “Because not everyone in the Skulls wants to see the Edenvane heir destroyed. Some still respect the lineage. But if you keep meddling, you’ll meet the same fate as that influencer girl. Consider yourselves warned.”
Then he melted back into the shadows, leaving us trembling with anger and fear. Toccara’s death was absolutely a Skulls operation. The watchers were fractured, some loyal to us in name, others ready to kill us.
I spun to Anubis, tears burning in my eyes. “They admitted it. She was murdered, and they’ll do the same to us.”
He gathered me into a fierce embrace. “We have to move fast. We can’t wait for another sabotage task. We gather everything we have, tonight, and pass it to the Undercurrent.”
Nodding, I wiped my tears. “Let’s do it. Enough is enough.”