Chapter 4
Bella
Monday, we have a day off from orientation, but I head to campus to meet Honey at the main library at noon.
I still haven’t told her about what I did to the lacrosse team, but she texted me an update late yesterday: “the UU lacrosse team all got sick and had to forfeit the summer championship! All of campus is talking about it. Did you hear about it?”
“No,” I replied. “How tragic.” I added a smiling demon face emoji to make it clear that I mean that sarcastically, but that’s probably not enough for her to realize I’m behind the poisoning. I should probably tell her face-to-face.
I wonder how she’ll take it. Not everyone can handle having a supervillain for a friend.
Honey is a good-hearted person, I can tell.
It’s early days, but she’s already an awesome friend.
I don’t want to scare her off. But eventually she’ll hear me cackling triumphantly, and I’ll have to tell her that I’m practicing my evil laugh.
Maybe she’ll be cool with it. Maybe she’ll help me practice!
But I have time to think about what I’m going to tell Honey. The bells have just tolled eleven, which means I have time for a little detour.
The poison garden here is famous. I’m familiar with poison plants; I have my own personal greenhouse both at Papa’s townhouse in New Rome and at the house here. But I’ve always wanted to see the University’s collection.
The garden is nestled out of the way, between two academic buildings.
The black iron gate is decorated with two dragon-like serpents holding a cup in one hand and a sword in the other, and there’s a pentacle etched onto each serpent’s forehead.
I’m learning about these symbols in orientation, and now I see them all over campus.
Unitas University loves to stick to a theme.
I also learned that the poison garden is open to everyone.
I sidle up to the gates, and sure enough, they’re closed but not locked.
I bet no one even bothers to come here in the summer.
The University is very private and doesn’t allow tourist visits.
Only faculty, students, and select guests are allowed.
Which means no one is around to admire these plants at their peak. Only me.
The back of my neck prickles with the now familiar sensation of being watched. I’ve been getting that sense more and more when I’m on campus.
But when I whirl around, no one’s there. Huh.
Maybe my supervillain senses are being tripped because more students are coming back to campus. Some of them will be Vesuvios, my family’s sworn enemies. I have plans for them, evil plans that go against Unitas University’s founding principles.
UU was founded in order to foster peace among the four mafia families of Metropolis.
We’re learning a little about this in summer orientation, but Honey spilled the real tea about those four families or Houses, and which of their descendants will be attending classes in the fall.
Campus is seen as neutral territory, which means no outright gang war.
House rivalries, however, are encouraged.
But there’s no murdering allowed. At least, it’s frowned upon, so I’ll need to be careful about my evil plans.
It’s not like I want to kill Vesuvio freshies anyway. No, my endgame involves the big boys, the don and his sons. They’re powerful and well protected, but nothing like a challenge, right?
First, I need to survive Mafia University. To do that, I’ll need all the resources I can get.
Poison garden, here I come.
I push open the iron gate and enter the quiet space beyond. A sign greets me at the head of the path. “Welcome to the poison garden,” the stylized script reads. “Enter at your own risk.”
If they put this sign out front, people would probably be more curious. Instead, they hide it behind the entrance, so no one knows what’s here.
I peer past the posted warning into the dark depths of the garden. There are patches of sunlight, but most of the plants grow in the deep shade cast by the yew and holly trees.
I like plants better than people. I wasn’t kidding when I told Honey my best friend was a carnivorous plant. But I’ve never seen anything like this murder garden.
The heady scent of wet earth and bitter greens is intoxicating. I thought the scent of a greenhouse was my favorite, but this is better. All these greens out in the fresh air, wild. Nature’s darkest secrets on display.
The path is lined with flowers that belong in a cottage garden. So pretty, so demure. All the more deadly because no one would suspect something so lovely could kill them.
If my mother were still alive, she’d want to paint them.
The yew trees are the tallest I’ve ever seen—beautiful evergreens with glossy needles and the most perfect bright red berries.
A tea made from those dark green needles can send a man into a coma within a few hours.
But researchers isolated a compound from the same tree’s bark that’s now used in chemotherapy treatments. This deadly tree saves lives.
Just another example of how plants hold all the answers.
I walk through the garden, admiring the beds of monkshood and daffodils.
The air is cooler here, and the quiet is almost reverent.
Or maybe that’s how I feel because phytotoxicology is my religion and deadly plants are my gods.
And they are powerful. It’s easy to imagine the plant’s victims buried under the groves.
This has just become my new favorite place.
I’m in love.
Some sun-loving plants like foxglove and deadly hemlock grow in a small patch of sunlight that manages to make it past the branch canopy. The foxglove has a long stem that’s taller than me. I get close and study the pink buds with dark speckles. Such a pretty plant to be so deadly.
“Hello, my precious,” I whisper.
Movement out of the corner of my eye makes me startle, and I whirl around.
“Who’s there?”
This time I’m not imagining it. The biggest guy I’ve ever seen steps out from behind a horse chestnut tree.
He’s over six feet tall and white with tanned skin and tattoos swirling down his arms and the back of his hands.
But he moves so silently, I feel like I’m imagining him.
He carries himself lightly, which tells me he’s fast on his feet. He’s nimble for someone so large.
He pauses by the tree, keeping his face in shadow.
Goosebumps break out over my skin. My breath comes faster.
I’ve had the sense that I’m being followed for the past few days, and suddenly here’s this guy lurking in the poison garden.
My eyes adjust to the shadows, and I catch my breath. The man is wearing a black bandana covering the lower half of his face with some sort of design on it—the white imprint of a skull.
Helloooo, Psycho Mask Daddy. Did Christmas come early? And by Christmas, I mean Halloween.
“It’s a little early to trick or treat,” I say.
He shifts his stance but doesn’t say anything. His arms are corded with hard muscle. He’s all coiled raw power, and something in his eyes makes me think he wants to pounce.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt. I sound breathless, my heart speeding up, and that annoys me.
I refuse to be frightened by him. I’m not afraid of a big guy in a silly little mask. I’m more concerned about how wet I’m getting. Guess I have a mask fetish.
“Same as you.” His voice rumbles in a way that makes me want to squirm. “I wanted to look at the flowers,” he says, but he’s not looking at them. He’s staring at me intently. Studying me like he knows me.
He has beautiful blue eyes. Not that I care.
“What’s with the mask?” I ask before I think better of it.
Maybe it’s rude to ask. Maybe he has a medical condition that requires him to keep his face covered.
“Actually, never mind. It’s none of my business.
” Unitas is a mafia university, after all.
Maybe it’s common for people to disguise their identities.
A fellow supervillain deserves my respect.
But now I want to know what he looks like.
From what I can tell, he’s older than the students, closer to thirty than twenty.
Is he faculty? Maybe, but he’s not in robes.
He’s dressed simply in jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to his broad shoulders, and his longish blond hair hangs around his face.
My cheeks heat. I don’t know why he’s staring at me, but I kind of like it.
Except, I know I shouldn’t. It’s distracting.
“Do you mind?” I wave to the exit. “I’m communing with the plants.”
“Communing,” he repeats.
“Yes.”
“You talk to them?”
“Yes.”
“Do they talk back?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I want to turn away and ignore him, but I know never to turn my back on a threat. And, even though he’s just standing there, this guy is a threat.
He does seem interested in the flowers, though, and points to the one I’m standing next to. “What’s that called?”
“Digitalis. Common name, foxglove.” I point to the unobtrusive sign on the ground next to the plant.
The name is right there on the little sign, if this guy wasn’t so busy studying me.
“Eat any part of it and you’ll become violently ill.
But it’s also used in heart medication. The dose makes the poison, you know. ”
He transfers his gaze to the flower, then back to me. How long is he going to stand here staring at me?
“There’s a labyrinth across campus,” I tell him. “It’s famous. Why don’t you go look at the flowers there?”
“This place is more interesting.”
I snort, because he’s right. “Anything is more interesting than a bunch of boxwoods. This is a poison garden,” I say, since he doesn’t seem to read signs. “Everything in here can kill you.”
“Everything?” His eyes crinkle in a way that makes me think he’s smiling under that mask. I can feel him sweep his gaze over me, and my insides quiver in response. I’m loving the attention… but I shouldn’t.
“Yes,” I tell him. I don’t have to convince him.
Maybe he’ll eat something, pass out, and leave me alone.
“Believe me or don’t. But I’d be careful about touching anything.
Like that—” I point to the vine creeping up the hemlock tree.
He’s planted his hand on the tree trunk mere inches away from it. “That’s poison ivy.”
He jerks his hand back and steps away from the tree. The sunlight blazes on his blond hair.
I’m tense like I’m going to run, but… I’d never outrun him. He’d catch me.
There’s a liquid rush between my legs, and I gulp, hoping my reaction isn’t obvious. My belly muscles have drawn up tight, and I can feel my pulse throbbing between my legs.
Why am I turned on by this guy who’s lurking in a poison garden wearing a skull mask? I should be creeped out, but I’m staring at him like a moonstruck idiot and acting as if he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Sure, his hair is pretty, but I’ve only seen half of his face.
I move closer to the tree trunk until I’m looking at him through a veil of poison leaves.
“That’s a weed,” he says.
“Not here. It belongs here.” I reach out and stroke the reddish leaves. They’re shiny with oily resin that causes a horrific, itchy rash.
The man leans away from me. “I thought you said it was poisonous?”
“It is,” I say, “but I’m immune. I practically rolled in this a few times as a child.
Most people get more allergic to it with exposure, but me?
” I shrug. “It doesn’t affect me anymore.
” I show him the oil on my fingers. “But don’t touch me.
Now I’m poisonous, too.” I give him a wicked smile that’s more of a warning.
He nods slowly. Maybe he can be taught.
And with that, I decide to ignore him. He makes no move to get closer. If he were going to attack me, he would’ve already. Maybe now he’ll think twice before touching me.
I can feel him watching me as I move deeper into the garden. I feel the pull between us, like I want to keep talking to him, but I refuse to miss out on the reason for my visit to the garden. Hecate, help me be strong!
My mind is still on my audience when I find a patch of deadly nightshade to distract me. It’s flowering, but the leaves look a bit wilted. I grab my UU-branded water bottle and dump the contents at its roots. The soil soaks it in. Yep, dehydrated, just as I suspected.
I resist the urge to look up at the man watching me, acting aloof like a boss! I crouch and press my fingers to the soil to see how much more water the nightshade might need.
Plants are so freaking durable, and yet they’re fragile. This subshrub will bow before a hurricane and survive, but get the equation of water/sunlight/nutrients wrong, and it will wither and die.
Kind of like humans. In some ways, humans are also so resilient. But if you possess the dark knowledge of poisons, it’s laughably easy to kill them.
I smile to myself, thinking of the man watching me. It wouldn’t take much nightshade to kill him.
“What else do you need, baby?” I murmur to the dark purple blooms. “More nitrogen? A bit more sunlight? You can tell me.”
I’m startled by the creak of the iron gate at the garden entrance. I look around for the mystery masked man but don’t see him. He must have left when I got distracted by the nightshade. I try not to feel disappointed.
A guy wearing a UU Lacrosse jersey walks through the gate, looks around, and then heads my way. It’s Radley, captain of the lacrosse team. King of the tools.
“You.” His eyes narrow at me. “I know what you did.”
I rise, brushing dirt from my fingertips. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve done a lot of things.”
“You’re the one who poisoned my team.”