Chapter 22
22
Raze
“ T wo more people have gone missing over the weekend,” Abigail announces from across the booth, her eyes gliding back and forth as she reads the Nocturne Gazette article on her phone.
The same article I was sure to hunt down this morning in my kitchen, repeatedly refreshing the website until it popped up on the home page.
“The Viper Strikes Nocturne Valley Once Again” is the best title they could conjure up.
We’ve got some of the future’s best and brightest creative writers living among us, and they waste their time employing these unoriginal hack jobs to report their news. I suppose when you’re trying to control your constituents as tightly as our honorable mayor does, your options for participants are limited.
But the Viper? Really ? They know my real name.
It’s honestly embarrassing.
“Did they say who?” I feign interest, just as I’m expected to do.
Nocturne Valley may know exactly who I am, but everyone within Ravenshurst University limits is forbidden from realizing their very own Dr. Raze Whitlock is the tool they use to keep people in line.
It’s amazing, the horrors people willingly ignore.
Abigail’s brows scrunch together, her thumb swiping across the screen to find the names that I know were mentioned in the first paragraph. I take the moment of distraction to examine her features for any sign that she may know the truth.
Long, painted lashes brush against freckled cheeks. She usually wears more makeup to hide the rust-colored splattering, claiming once that they made her appear too young beside her students. I agree they give her a deceitful innocence that she’s proven time again only runs skin deep.
Still, I can tell she knows nothing about me or the Viper. Just as the Syndicate wants to ensure everyone associated with Ravenshurst remains ignorant of the connection.
“Mitchell and Rebecca Haggarty,” she finally answers.
“My old neighbors,” I comment, shaking my head in mock disgust. “It’s starting to hit too close to home.”
The Haggartys were honest, hardworking, and stubborn. None of those attributes appeals to the Syndicate, especially when they’re used against them.
Which was why they had to go.
A slender hand sweeps across my arm before wrapping around my fingers and giving a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, Raze. I always forget you grew up here.”
Of course, she forgot. She couldn’t care less about me or my childhood.
I shrug, rolling my lips into a tight line. I’ve played this part so many times, the reaction comes naturally—even though the feelings aren’t genuine.
“I just hope they catch the bastard before he starts going after the university.”
That’s everyone at the university’s biggest concern; the safety of Ravenshurst. Not the students, though. Not necessarily. They know how quickly school attendance rates will plummet if there’s a threat to student’s safety. Less attendance equals less money. Sending me after the school would be the final nail in the coffin for their sick little society. Which is why it’ll never happen. But no one knows that.
The Syndicate would never sacrifice their profit margin. The fear of the town is what feeds them, anyway. It’s why they do it.
Kicking her nose up in confidence, she assures me, “The police will find him before he has the balls to touch Ravenshurst.”
I fight back a smirk, dropping my chin to my chest before she catches it. Ravenshurst places this blind trust in the justice system of Nocturne Valley. In the same police officers who parked their cars on the end of each block to reroute traffic away from the Haggarty’s home. Nocturnians keep their mouths shut about me out of fear of being the next home I visit. It’s pathetic how gullible the masses are.
Somehow, I manage to nod and say, “I hope so,” without exploding.
“Are we still meeting up later?” She changes the subject, ignorant to the monster who is sitting across from her.
“We’re together now.” So, no .
“We had plans,” she whines in that irritating tone that sends all the blood away from my cock.
“I have other plans now. That’s why I invited you to lunch.” It’s a boldfaced lie, but she’ll never know the difference.
I just needed to be in the public eye when the news recorded the police searching the Haggarty’s home, and Abigail happened to stop me in the hall on my way out.
She pulls her hand away and crosses her arms. “You always do this,” she accuses bitterly, her tiny nose scrunching in irritation.
It only grates against my patience even more, which reminds me that I’m already thoroughly irritated with her. “Why did I have a student come to me asking about a work study, claiming that you ensured you could secure one for her?”
Not just any student. The Ellery girl.
She could have obliterated my plan for revenge before I got a chance to execute it.
Her eyes widen, hands swiping across her thighs beneath the table. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. It’s the strangest thing. This girl had all her classes set up without any courses for her bloodline. Turns out, she had no idea she even had gifts. It seemed like she wasn’t aware of Ravenshurst’s programs at all, actually. I felt bad for her.”
I narrow my eyes, filing that information away for later. What kind of game is Divina playing, sending her own spawn into Ravenshurst without a speck of knowledge about her gift?
Unless it’s as I suspect, and the woman attending classes under Penelope Ellery’s name isn’t really her.
Wouldn’t that be a delicious surprise?
“So, you sent this charity case my way?”
Her lips press together, eyes flicking behind me before they hotly bore back into mine.
She’s irritated with me.
“She isn’t a charity case. She was looking for a work study, and you had one open. I told her that we were close, and I could probably help her. She got to you before I could ask you about it. Sorry.”
“In the future, don’t offer things you don’t have the power to give.”
With the shake of her head, she bites her bottom lip and nods. “Where are your plans?”
“Something for work came up.” When she rolls her eyes and juts her chin out in a defiant little pout, I lean forward until there’s only a few inches between us, then lower my voice. “You know I’d rather spend the evening buried deep inside you.”
Red blooms across her cheeks as her features soften. A tiny, sultry smirk plays across her lips at the thought of us being together. She’s always been easy to diffuse, it’s almost boring.
Not boring enough to stop seeing her, though.
“Fine. Raincheck, then,” she relents with a sigh.
I offer her a fake relieved smile, then make a show of checking my watch even though I’ve been counting down the minutes on the clock behind her head. I’ve officially been out long enough.
“I have to get ready for my next class. We’ll talk later.”
She doesn’t bother hiding her disappointment as I throw my napkin on the table and slide out of the booth. Still, she knows better than to expect a special goodbye. Instead, she waves as I walk past, rushing out a demand for me to call her later. Slipping a fifty to the waitress on my way out to cover our meals, I make it through the door at the exact time the sheriff is entering the diner.
No one notices the envelope he slips into my pocket as we brush past one another. Nor do they see me rip it open once I hop into my car, counting the bills to ensure they’re the correct amount. Once I’m satisfied, I throw the envelope and the handwritten thank you note from the town’s mayor into the trash, then speed off toward the university.