Vicious (St. Sebastian’s at Cravenmoor Academy #2)

1. Blake

Blake

T he red dot on my chest is frozen in time. Whoever is holding the sniper rifle has a steady hand.

“Blake!” Venetia scrambles to get out from under Viper, but he pulls her back.

My mind doesn’t register fear. It registers data.

The dot is unwavering despite the aftershocks of the blast. The sniper is experienced, positioned high, and likely in the clock tower opposite.

They aren’t aiming for a kill shot to the head.

This is a message. A negotiation tactic. They want me pinned.

“Stay down,” I command, my voice low and steady, cutting through Venetia’s frantic struggles. Her panic is a liability, a vulnerability they will exploit.

Rafferty is already scanning the sniper’s location, swearing under his breath.

“Do not move,” I mutter.

Without waiting for a response, I throw myself sideways.

I roll behind the heavy oak desk with Lucy’s tank on it, just as the rifle cracks, the sound a sharp counterpoint to the roar of the flames outside.

Wood splinters as the bullet hits the wood panelling behind where I was standing.

A clear miss. A warning. Another shot thuds into the bed, then another.

I stay low as more shots punch through the room, methodical and precise. One just misses Lucy’s tank. Another thuds into the wardrobe. They’re herding us, containing us. This isn’t about killing any of us.

“Rafferty,” I say, my voice calm, projecting just enough to be heard over the chaos. “The clock tower. Can you get a shot?”

“Not from here. The angle’s shit,” he growls back, crouched near the splintered doorway. “And I don’t have the right hardware for that range.”

Venetia is fuming under the blown-out window. Safe for now, but we are flying blind.

“Viper, get her to the bathroom. It’s the most reinforced part of the room, no direct line of sight.”

He doesn’t argue, dragging her with him in a low crouch as another bullet whizzes past, burying itself in the mattress.

The sniper is toying with us. A cat with four mice. A fatal miscalculation on their part. They assume our reactions will be predictable. They haven’t accounted for the fact that one of the mice owns the board.

And then, the shots stop.

Silence descends.

Only the roar of the explosion’s aftermath can be heard.

“Why did they stop?” Venetia asks from the bathroom.

“Good question,” I mutter back.

“This wasn’t a shoot to kill,” Rafferty says. “It was one of two things. Either to keep us pinned in place while something else happens, or they were simply warning us to back off.”

“Or both,” Viper says, crawling out of the bathroom and hunkering down next to me. “You, stay there,” he says to Venetia, who tries to follow.

“What did they blow up?” she asks.

Rafferty sticks his head up to peer out of the hole in the wall that used to be the window. “The library.”

“Ouch,” I mutter. “That place was sacred.”

“Not anymore,” Viper says and pulls out his phone when it buzzes. “Landon is on the ground. An unknown, so far. He spots one shooter in the clock tower and ten hostiles at the gates in case anyone tries to run.”

“So, they’ve locked us down,” I say.

“They’ve locked us in with a sniper,” Rafferty snarls and then grunts as a shot is fired. “One down.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Ana Countridge.”

“Ana?” Venetia calls back. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. They killed her?”

“Yeah. Headshot.”

“Jesus,” she says, and I hear her steady inhale.

“So, they aren’t fucking about, but neither are they willing to kill us,” I point out. “That means we have leverage.”

“It means we have something they want,” Viper corrects me.

“How adept is Landon?”

“He is good. One of the best where we come from and with what we do. On his own with snipers and shit…” Viper shakes his head.

“He is our man on the outside.”

“Yeah, but they must know he is here. It wasn’t exactly a secret when he showed up.”

“And yet he is still out there. Alive.”

“Are you sure it’s him?” Venetia asks.

Viper snorts. “One way to find out.” He dials a number and puts it on a video call. “Good to see your fucked-up face,” he growls.

“You thought I was compromised?” he asks.

“Valid concern.”

“Where are you?” I ask, cutting into these pleasantries.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Blake Locke. A pleasure. Your location?”

Viper snickers, nods. “Tell him.”

“I’m positioned behind the groundskeeper’s shed, about two hundred metres from your building,” Landon replies, his voice crackling through the phone speaker. “Got eyes on the clock tower. Your sniper’s got night vision and what looks like a Barrett .50 cal. Professional kit.”

“Can you take him?” I ask, studying the tactical situation forming in my mind like a chessboard.

“Maybe. But the moment I move, those ten at the gates will know exactly where I am. I’ll be exposed.”

I process this information, weighing our options. The sniper has us pinned, but they’re not shooting to kill. Ana’s death was a message, not part of their primary objective. They want something from us, which means negotiation is possible.

“Can you get closer to the gates without being detected?” I ask.

“I can try, but it’s risky as fuck. Open ground for about fifty metres in any direction.”

“We can cover him,” Rafferty says with a wild grin. “Open fire and draw attention away.”

“What do you want me to do when I get there?” Landon asks.

“Hold your position until we get there.”

Viper hisses. “Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“No, I’m completely sane. We are sitting here with our collective dicks in our hands while they pin us like butterflies on a board. Fuck. That.”

“You seriously want to go out there, pretty boy?” he growls.

“I may have a different tactic than you when it comes to destroying people, but I’m not harmless. Quite the opposite. How many firearms do you have hidden in this room?”

“Enough to get us to my car.” Viper grunts, his eyes narrowing on me. “There’s more.”

“Excellent,” I say, my mind already several moves ahead.

“Rafferty, you have to get your kit. Once you’re set up, you’ll provide suppressing fire on the clock tower from the window.

Don’t aim to hit him, just keep his head down.

Landon,” I speak into the phone. “When you hear Rafferty’s shots, you move on the gate guards.

Viper, you and Venetia will exit through the main door on my signal and head for the west stairwell. ”

“And you?” Viper’s voice is a low growl of disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m going to pay our friend in the clock tower a visit,” I reply coolly.

“Like fuck you are,” he snarls.

“If he expects anyone to sneak up on him, it’ll be you or Rafferty. He won’t expect me.”

“Until they see you aren’t out there with the rest of us.”

“That’s not going to happen while Rafferty is keeping him occupied. Right?” I give Raff a fierce glare.

“Right,” he says and crawls along the ground to the door. “My room is seven doors down. There is only the small window at the end of the hallway, so it should be clear. Give me three minutes.”

Viper nods and checks his watch, as do I.

“Be safe,” Venetia calls out and crawls over to us. “I’m done with hiding,” she growls when Viper glares at her.

Her defiance is a beautiful, reckless thing.

Viper’s jaw is a hard line of disapproval, but he doesn’t push her back.

He knows, just as I do, that caging her is impossible.

It’s why we’re all here, orbiting her flame.

He nods and crawls over to a yellow toolbox.

He flips the lid open and starts pulling shit out.

Venetia joins him, and he arms her to the teeth with a gun, more knives, and a knuckleduster that would collapse a man’s face.

“One minute, thirty,” I say, getting ready to move.

Viper slaps a gun into my hand, but I shake my head with a smile and pull out my own concealed weapon. He nods but shoves the other gun at me anyway. “You’ve got two hands, yeah?” I accept it and get into position at the door with Viper and Venetia close behind me.

“Thirty seconds,” I murmur.

The tension is thick as we mentally count down. Raff will be bang on time.

Emphasis on the bang.

I’m not wrong.

“Move.”

I slip into the corridor. Rafferty’s unsuppressed rifle cracks from down the hall, a brutal, staccato rhythm designed to draw fire and notify us of his presence. Smart thinking.

Viper moves with the brutal efficiency of one who isn’t unfamiliar with these situations, one hand on Venetia’s back, his body a living shield. Venetia moves confidently, her gun held steady, her eyes scanning for threats.

We reach the west stairwell, a gaping maw of shadows. This is it. The point of divergence. Viper pauses, his eyes locking onto mine. “Don’t get yourself killed, Locke.”

“The thought hadn’t occurred to me,” I reply, my voice even.

Venetia looks at me and in the flickering emergency lights. “After we end this. We fuck.”

“Well, that’s motivation to get it done.”

She giggles, and without another word, I break away, melting into the shadows of a parallel corridor that leads towards the old service entrance.

The sounds of their descent down the stairwell fade, leaving me in a sudden, profound silence broken only by the distant roar of the library fire.

They think the threat comes from the front.

But a frontal assault is a brute’s tactic.

My methods are more insidious. I am the kraken, and I am about to drag the sniper down into the deep.