The Vipers' Vow (Verona Falls University #6)

1. Vani

1

VANI

I ’m going to fall.

The certainty sinks into me with utter terror. I’m standing on the edge of the highest tower at Verona Falls University, and the drop behind me is vast and fathomless. I can’t turn to look. I’m too terrified to do anything but try not to fall as Zane’s desperate gaze holds mine.

My arms pinwheel as I try to keep my balance. Behind me, the storm seems to gain momentum with every passing second. The clouds gathering, the wind whipping my hair from my face. Beneath the wind, sirens blare, and I’m only vaguely aware of a commotion happening far below.

Zane lunges for me, and I have no choice but to reach back.

If I don’t, I’ll die.

Suddenly, the huge, silent beast of a man standing in front of me, who I’d been so frightened of, morphs into my savior.

Our fingers touch, and I gulp a sob. His grip tightens, and he pulls me to him. His big arms bracket me in a prison of safety as my breath rushes in and out, fast and harsh.

I’d almost relived my sister’s fate, crashing to the ground far below, my body broken and shattered, no way of coming back from it. I can’t believe I came so close. What the hell had I been thinking, coming up here? But I hadn’t been thinking, not really. I’d been heartbroken that once again, these three men did what they could to try to destroy me. I thought I’d be satisfied with my revenge on them, ruining the things they loved like I did—Lex’s precious car, Saint’s paintings, Zane’s hand-carved table—but somehow, they still managed to hurt me more.

Yet here is one of them. A life raft in the storm raging around us.

Zane hauls me against him, and I cling to him.

He saved me.

It hits me hard. This silent, huge man just saved my damn life.

All the emotion of what I’ve gone through since arriving at Verona Falls barrels up and spills from me in one go. I suck in panicked gasps, and my shoulders hitch with my sobs. I can’t seem to get enough air, but instead of creating space around us, I only hold Zane tighter. He’s the one solid thing in my life right now, and I feel like if I let go, I might crumble. My tears wet his shirt, and I inhale the scent of him like it’s oxygen.

For a moment, I think it’s only me shaking, but then I realize he is too. His entire body trembles with emotion as he holds me.

I’m weak with relief, and I’m sure my legs aren’t strong enough to hold me up. Only Zane’s powerful embrace surrounding me keeps me on my feet.

One of the hideous fliers with my photocopied face and the words ‘Daddy’s Little Whore’ printed across it is crushed in his hand. I stiffen in his arms. I do this every time. I let them lull me into a false sense of security and make me feel things for them, only for them to turn around and hurt me all over again.

They are the reason I am here. I’m clinging to the man who would destroy me as if he’s my hero, but he’s not, not really. I wouldn’t have been up on the tower if it weren’t for Zane and his friends. This is all still his fault. I might be clinging to him as though he’s my savior, but he’s my enemy.

They all are.

The siren continues to wail, the rise and fall like a newborn baby’s cry. Another crack of thunder rolls overhead, and instinctively, we both duck. This isn’t the safest place to be right now. A strike of lightning could kill us both.

Zane seems to realize this as well, and he gently unpeels me from his chest and holds me at arm’s length so he can see my face. There’s nothing but concern and, dare I even think it, love in his green eyes. He cups my cheek and brushes away my tears with his thumb. His gentleness only makes me cry harder, and I twist my face to nuzzle into the heat of his hand.

He pulls me back in and kisses my forehead and hugs me again. Then he presses our foreheads together and lightly brushes his nose against the tip of mine.

His eyes squeeze shut, and when he opens them again, a single tear pools at the corner of his eye and trickles down the hard planes of his face. He doesn’t even seem to notice or care that he’s crying. I’ve never seen this man show such depth of emotion. Truly, I didn’t think he was capable of this kind of deep sadness. Anger, yes. Rage, absolutely. But this quiet, intense sadness I see on his face? No. Even after he’d found out the surgeons could do nothing more to restore his voice, I hadn’t seen him cry.

I’m so confused and conflicted about these men. Zane is the one who makes me think I must be wrong. He must feel something true. These aren’t the actions of a man who hates me.

Neither of us has spoken a word, but we haven’t needed to. Just how he’s held me, looked at me, touched me, has said more than words ever could. Perhaps, because he can’t speak, he finds other ways of showing emotion. He’s doing that right now with his gaze, his touch, his emotions writ large and unashamed.

The rain starts, heavy, cold droplets tapping me on the head and shoulders. It doesn’t take long for us to both be soaked.

Behind Zane, the door onto the roof crashes open. The wind catches it so it slams against the wall behind, the vibrations reverberating through the roof.

Saint stands in the doorway, the wind rippling his shirt and hair. For a moment, I think he has some kind of red pattern on the white material, but then I realize it’s blood. His shirt isn’t the only thing that’s bloodied—so is his split lip. What the hell happened to him?

Despite myself, I don’t like seeing Saint hurt. I also don’t like seeing him so ruffled when he’s normally put together and in control of himself. It doesn’t bode well.

“Both of you,” he yells, “get the hell off the roof!”

I barely hear him with all the noise, but it’s clear Zane has read his lips. He catches my hand and hauls me toward the open doorway.

I still don’t want to go anywhere with them, but I also acknowledge that I don’t have many choices. Being out in this storm is dangerous, and I don’t want to risk falling again. I’d rather take my chances with the Vipers.

I realize one of them is missing. Where is Lex?

We enter the stairwell, and the door slams behind us, blocking out the worst of the weather and the noise of the alarms, though I can still hear them, echoing up from the interior of the college.

The near silence is strange after the roar and rush of the wind in my ears, almost claustrophobic in its intense quiet.

Zane signs something to Saint, and Saint’s eyes widen in alarm.

“You almost fell?” Saint says.

I give a tiny nod, embarrassed now. “Yes, but I didn’t.”

“That was so fucking stupid of you, Vani.”

Now the emotion has drained out of me, it’s replaced by a fresh wave of anger.

“What do you think I was doing up there in the first place?” I snatch the crumpled and now very wet flier out of Zane’s hand and wave it in their faces. “How could you?”

“How could we what?” Saint says. “Those fliers had nothing to do with us.”

“Liar!” I spit back. “ Daddy’s little whore ? Did you think I’d forget?”

He seems genuinely perplexed. “Forget what?”

“That time you made me call Zane ‘Daddy’ while we were having sex. You took those words and used them against me.”

“Vani, this wasn’t us. I swear to you.”

Zane’s lips are pinched, and he shakes his head. Was that what he’d been trying to tell me on the roof? They’d lie, though, wouldn’t they? The way they’ve done before.

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been torturing me this whole time.”

“How many of these have you had?” Saint demands.

It’s my turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

“I know this isn’t the first poison pen note you’ve had. Someone put one under your door…”

He trails off. What the hell? Is he admitting to putting it under my door?

Zane eyes him strangely.

I think of all the horrible notes I’ve received. What kind of game is he playing? He knows it’s not the first one because he and the other Vipers are the ones who sent them.

“You know someone put one under my door because you’re that someone.”

Saint stares at me. “You really think that’s our fucking style, Vani? How can I be the person putting the note under the door when I was already on the other side of it.”

He is making no sense. What does he mean, on the other side of it?

Zane signs something to Saint.

Saint shoves his hands in his pockets and glances down. “I just was, okay?” He returns his attention to me. “So, you have had more notes, then? How many? I know of at least two now.”

I hold up a hand. “Wait, one minute. Go back. How the fuck do you know someone has been putting notes under my door if you weren’t the one who put them there? Because right now I’m thinking the fact you know about them proves you’re the one responsible, Saint. The language whoever is writing them uses…well, it’s more like you than anyone. Degrading and cruel.” I know I hit home when his jaw tenses. “You are the most likely culprit. And what the hell do you mean you were on the other side of the door?”

His blue eyes narrow to a glare. “ Merde! It’s not me. For fuck’s sake, Vani. There’s a big difference between degradation while we’re fucking, to writing shit like that and spreading it all over school or shoving it beneath your door in the middle of the night.”

I wave the flier in his face.

“So how the fuck do you know? What do you mean when you say you were on the other side?” I demand the answer again, my stomach dropping because I know, don’t I? He was in my room. Without me being aware. That’s… Jesus. Talk about creepy.

“I was there!” he blurts. “I was in your room when someone slid the note through the gap under the door. I picked it up and read it, and then I realized I couldn’t say anything to you because then I’d have to admit I was in your room when it arrived, so I just left and slipped it back under the door again.”

My jaw has dropped, and, looking at Zane, my expression seems to be mirrored on his face perfectly. So, he didn’t know that his supposed blood brother of sorts was sneaking into my room.

I glare at Saint. “How many times?”

He shrugs and pouts, suddenly all boyish charm. “Only a handful.”

“A handful! A fucking handful. What does that even mean?”

I’m about to lose it at Saint, but Zane beats me to it.

He signs something to Saint that is quite clearly ‘ What the fuck?’ Then he shoves Saint’s shoulders, sending him stumbling backward. Saint grabs the handrail to stop himself from falling down the stairs. The violence between them crackles in the air. One of them is going to get seriously hurt if they don’t stop.

“ Putain de sa mère! You already busted my lip. No need to break anything else, okay?”

Zane looks furious. The amber ring in his green eyes darkens, and the muscles in his square jaw flex. His massive shoulders round. He’s like a mythical beast, the Minotaur in the Labyrinth.

I look between them, confused and scared that this will spiral out of control and they’ll both end up dead at the foot of the stairs. Saint is a creeping creeper, but I can deal with that later. There are more important things right now. Like, if they weren’t the ones sending me all those horrible notes, then who the hell was? And if it wasn’t them, have I been the one doing them an injustice, instead of the other way around, by believing the worst of them?

“Anyway,” Saint says, staring at me with naked hostility, “you’re the one who’s been spying on us for Jarl Olsen. You’ve convinced him that we’re the ones responsible for your sister’s death.”

I jerk back. “What? No, I haven’t.”

“Liar!” He punctuates the word with a finger in my face.

I slap it out of the way. “I’m not a liar.”

“I saw you sitting in the bar with him, looking all cozy.”

“I’d never even spoken to him before the other day.” I think of something else. “I wasn’t the person to set up that meeting, either. It was Angelica. She thought she was doing me a favor because she knew how upset I was about finding out my sister died before I ever got the chance to meet her. She thought that getting to meet Reagan’s dad would give us both a bit of closure. It had nothing to do with you.”

Saint shakes his head. “You say it had nothing to do with us, but then he’s on campus, and everyone knows what the rumors are, and now I can’t get ahold of Lex, and there’s been a security breach.”

Alarm jangles inside me. I should wash my hands of these men and walk away. I shouldn’t care, but I do. Damn me for my stupid, soft heart, but I do.

“What do you mean, you can’t get ahold of Lex?”

“Exactly that. He’s not answering his cell, and I have no idea where he is.”

I think of the mess I’d made of his car. “Shit.”

Guilt solidifies inside me, but not for the reasons Saint is accusing me of.

“Look, I might not have had anything to do with Jarl, but I did damage Lex’s car,” I admit. “I was furious with the three of you. I wanted to make you see that I wasn’t going to just lie down and take whatever shit you were going to deal out to me.”

Saint stares at me. “You think that’s what we were doing? Just dealing shit out to you?”

“Well, yeah, especially you, Saint. I mean, you pretended to be your brother to get into my bed, remember? And now I find out you’ve been sneaking into my room while I’ve been sleeping. I mean, what the fuck? That’s hardly normal behavior, is it?”

“The thing with me pretending to be Lex was only for fun. I wanted to test you, see if you could tell the difference between us, which you could.”

I glare at him. “Fun? How is that fun? It’s assault. It’s no wonder you’ve almost pushed me to the edge.”

His expression changes, and he rakes his hand through his hair. “Fuck, Vani. I never meant for it to hurt you like that.”

“Well, it did. There was a moment when I was standing on the edge of the tower when I wondered if it would be easier just to fall.”

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with fear. “No, Vani. God, no. Never say that. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He clutches the staircase railing, and suddenly it’s as though he’s struggling to breathe. “I would be nothing without you. Nothing. I only ever wanted to be close to you.”

I wasn’t expecting to see this reaction from him, but I’m still fighting to let down my guard. “Is that why you snuck into my room while I was sleeping?”

“I just didn’t want you to be alone. I didn’t want to be alone either. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I liked that we got to spend that time together.” He seems to pull himself back together and gestures at Zane. “I mean, I know I am sharing you with my brother and friend, but you must understand that I wanted some time when it was just us.”

I blink at him. Must understand ? He did not just say that to me. He actually is bat shit crazy. “Did you touch me while I was sleeping?”

He twists his lips. “Only a little, only enough to make you feel good. I’d never hurt you.”

I cover my face with my hands. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I don’t know how to feel about this. He is so messed up, but so am I, because a sick little part of me throbs at the transgressive thought of him needing me so much he’d do that.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

His expression is pained. He reminds me of a little boy whose hand has been slapped by the nanny, or a puppy who got kicked when it tried to eat some scraps. It seems crazy to me that whatever moral code he works by doesn’t understand that sneaking into my room at night is wrong.

And if he’s willing to own up to sneaking into my room and touching me while I sleep, then surely, he’d also own up to sending those notes, and to putting all those fliers in the mail slots? What reason would he have for admitting to one and not the other? For the first time, I’m starting to wonder if he’s actually telling the truth. His moral compass is so fucked up, why even lie? And if he’s telling the truth about all of this, does it also mean they genuinely had nothing to do with how Reagan died?

My thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion.

But if they’re not responsible, who the hell is? Do I really have an enemy here that I have no clue about? What have I done for some stranger to hate me so much?

I drag my mind back to his insane question and stare at him.

“Yes, Saint. I want you to fucking stop. I don’t mind you being in the room with me while I sleep, but I want to know about it.”

Zane takes out his phone and his fingers fly across the screen. He holds it out for us to see . I think we need a fresh start. Suspecting each other of everything that’s happened hasn’t helped any of us. We’ve been looking in the wrong place for what’s been going wrong. Now Lex is missing.

“Do you think Jarl Olsen has taken him?” I ask.

He types again. What else is there to think? He wouldn’t leave without telling us where he was going. And if he was going to leave campus, he’d take his car, wouldn’t he?

His car. The one I fucked up.

“Is his car even still there?” I say.

Saint and Zane exchange a glance.

I bite my lower lip. “I think we should go and look.”