Chapter 3
Sadie
“Welcome to the Founder’s Run!” calls a senior student in the quad.
“Rules are simple! Freshmen, cross the green and plant your pennant beneath the Darkbloom flagpole before the bells toll. But if one of us claims your pennant first—” He grins with too many teeth, like a hungry shark.
“You owe your captor obedience. Once dusk falls, we will begin.”
The ivory felt pennant in my hand suddenly feels like a glaring target.
“What does he mean, we owe our captor obedience?” I ask Clara and Juliette.
Clara stretches her hamstring. “If any of the upperclassmen catch us before we plant our pennant, we have to kneel before our captor and obey a single order they give us.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Something silly.” Juliette waves a manicured hand. “Like jumping in the freezing lake.”
“Screw that,” says Clara. “I’m not dying of hypothermia.”
We wear dark-colored sweaters, leggings, and sneakers to blend into the shadows rapidly descending on the rear quad. The gothic spires and turrets of the college are at our backs, with the expansive green unrolling before us like an emerald blanket.
In the distance, a flag bearing Darkbloom’s crest snaps from the pole in a breeze.
“And if we make it to the flagpole?” I ask.
“We’re invited to eat at the Founder’s Table with upperclassmen on a night of their choosing,” says Juliette.
The sky turns to a mauve watercolor as the weak sun slides toward the treetops. A ripple of anticipation travels through the quad and into my bloodstream.
A horde of upperclassmen stands between us and the flagpole. They fan out on the green like hyenas, ready to block our paths and catch us.
Our odds don’t seem great. There are two of them for every one of us.
But if this is a much-loved Darkbloom tradition, who am I to sit out? I want to make an effort to belong at my new school.
It’s not like I belong anywhere else.
“I think the real prize will be not having to kneel before a senior,” I say, eyeing the hyenas warily.
Clara shudders. “They look like they want to pummel us into the ground, don’t they?”
“Professor Worthington said the faculty decided to supervise.” Juliette points to the adult figures standing stoically around the perimeter like tweed-clad soldiers. “After what happened to Hannah, I think the staff members are all on edge.”
“Who’s Hannah?” I ask.
“She was a student here,” says Clara. “She died in an accident on campus last winter.”
“How horrible,” I say, wondering what kind of accident, but not wanting to be rude by asking.
Juliette squints into the hazy green. “Wait, who are they?”
Four large figures join the upperclassmen at the last minute. They stop when they get to the middle of the pack. One in particular draws my attention.
My fingers dig into my pennant. “That’s Lucan.”
He wears a black hoodie, but his searing gaze and ominous energy are unmistakable. Even from this distance, I know his deathly blue eyes are trained on me.
“I can’t believe he’s joined the Run,” says Clara. “Hunting in public doesn’t seem like his style.”
Juliette looks from him to me. “Sadie, why’s he staring at you like that? My god, what did you do?”
A thrill of fear rises in my body. “Nothing! I don’t even know him.”
“He seems to know you,” says Juliette.
So much for avoiding him.
“He’s a predator and he decided you look like prey.” Clara clicks her tongue in sympathy. “Might be as simple as that.”
Though I hope my roommates are just teasing me, the genuine concern stamped on their faces says otherwise.
“He wouldn’t actually hurt me, would he?” My feet shift, as if preparing to run of their own accord. “Not with all these faculty members around?”
Juliette hesitates, like she thinks he really might. “We won’t leave your side, Sadie. The three of us will stick together, okay? Strength in numbers.”
“The trick is to disappear into the tree line and run through the forest,” says Clara, surveying the tall, black trees surrounding the green on both sides. “Otherwise they’ll pick us off in a heartbeat.”
I look at Lucan’s friends more closely. “Who are those guys he’s with?”
Juliette tosses her ponytail. “His fellow vile entities. The one with the white-blond hair is none other than Clara’s older brother. Reeve Lauder, tech heir. I loathe him.”
My brain dings with the recognition of their last name, which is in the news pretty regularly.
Reeve’s haughty demeanor is nothing like Clara’s open warmth, but their well-defined facial features are undeniably similar.
“Why do you hate him?” I ask Juliette.
Clara smirks. “Good luck getting her to answer.”
“As if I need a reason,” says Juliette hotly. “Just look at him. Blond fucker.”
“No argument from me.” Clara points. “Madox Kelly is the creep next to my brother.”
Madox has a deep scar running down his face. The sides of his head are clipped, the longer hair on top hanging forward over his brow. The haircut seems to belong on a soldier or a criminal, not a student at an elite college.
“Mad-dog Madox,” continues Clara. “The psychopathic second-in-line to the Kelly empire. He’s being trained to execute all his family’s dirty work.”
“What does his family do?” I ask.
“Officially? They’re in real estate and development,” says Clara.
Juliette smacks her lips. “Unofficially? Irish mafia.”
“Ah.” My gaze strays to the fourth man. His shoulders are rounded, his hands jammed in his pockets. He’s arguing with Lucan heatedly, though I can’t hear the words. “And him?”
“That’s Parker Hale, Lucan’s cousin,” says Juliette. “Poor guy. My driver saw him passed out in the town square a few days ago.”
Clara’s voice softens. “Hannah was his sister. The girl who died last winter.”
“She broke her neck walking along an icy path down near the rowing sheds,” says Juliette. “Parker hasn’t been the same since.”
“You said her death was an accident?” I ask, my eyes on Lucan and his cousin.
“There was no evidence of foul play.” Juliette follows my gaze. “So it had to be ruled an accident.”
A shiver flits down my spine. “I see.”
The sun sinks behind the towering trees, casting the grounds into grayish-green.
“Get ready to run, fresh meat!” shouts the announcer.
Lucan moves closer to Reeve and Madox, muttering to them. Reeve nods in understanding, while Madox gives a wild bark of laughter and shakes a finger at Clara.
“Oh shit,” mutters Juliette, her hand on my arm. “This isn’t good. They’re making a plan.”
“Three, two, one!” hollers the announcer. “Run!”
The college grounds explode into motion. Juliette pulls me to the left. The three of us bolt, pennants flashing white against our dark clothing like beacons.
I hastily roll the pennant. While hidden by fleeing freshmen, I stuff it under my sweater, safe in my sports bra. The pocket in my leggings is already occupied by the silver locket that I need to ditch somewhere when no one’s looking.
“The forest!” gasps Clara.
Some freshmen are running straight, but plenty share our tactic of fleeing into the tree line. Students charge past me on all sides, squealing and yelling.
The cold air saws at my lungs as the buildings fall away behind us, and the wet grass is slippery beneath my sneakers.
In the chaos, I lose sight of Lucan and his friends.
I vow not to be caught by that jerk. The idea of kneeling before him makes me want to puke.
“Are they following?” asks Clara, not bothering to say who, because we already know.
Glancing over my shoulder, my stomach drops like an anvil.
Lucan mows down freshmen and seniors without discrimination, throwing his elbows and fists. Bodies land on the grass with cries and thuds. He doesn’t pause to claim any pennants.
Reeve and Madox flank him, heading straight for us.
“Yes, they’re following!” I yell.
The tree line rushes closer, promising concealment.
“Remember,” says Juliette. “Death before surrender.”
Death?
She’s just getting caught up in the moment, right? The situation can’t be that serious.
It feels serious though, like Lucan will tear me apart if he catches me.
As a single unit, we fly past a faculty member and plunge into the forest.
The air changes under the cover of the whispering trees, cooler and darker. Our sneakers hammer the ground as we run deeper. Branches claw at my sleeves and dead foliage crunches underfoot.
Campus lights fade until only the faint glow of dusk filters through the canopy.
I pray Lucan and his friends don’t catch us in here. They could do anything to us and no one would see. The professors don’t get paid enough to tramp through the forest to pry apart freshmen girls and the rabid sons of billionaires.
This afternoon, I worried about fitting in at Darkbloom. Now I’m worried about surviving the first night unscathed.
“They’re coming,” says Clara.
“Stay together,” hisses Juliette.
A feral shout erupts in the trees to our left, just out of sight.
There’s another masculine yell to our right, nearer.
They’re closing in and the sadistic assholes want us to know it. Toying with us before they devour us.
But we’re moving fast, at least halfway to the flagpole and safety.
My pulse pounds in my ears, loud enough to drown out everything else. It takes all my concentration to keep up with my roommates while dodging roots and tree branches.
For a second, I think we might actually make it.
But then a large figure bursts out of the dark and grabs Clara around the waist, pulling her down. She screams as she and her captor crash together into the leaves. A glimpse of shaved skull tells me it’s Madox.
“Got you, babygirl!” he yells, then howls like an animal.
A man who could only be Reeve, with his shock of platinum hair, lunges from the opposite side.
I dodge, but he’s not after me. He sweeps Juliette off her feet. She fights and curses while he effortlessly puts her on the muddy ground.
“Motherfucker!” she shouts. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“The flagpole, Sadie, run!” calls Clara.
Adrenaline floods my body and I push faster. I need to get away clean.
It’s different for my roommates. Juliette and Clara know these guys, and Lucan isn’t the one chasing them.
That creep won’t let me off with an order as simple as jumping in the lake if he catches me. I just know it.
The girls’ voices vanish behind me in a mess of shouting and breathless laughter.
I run, my blood fizzing with fear.
But the forest is so quiet now, like it’s just me. Did I lose him already? Maybe I’ll actually make it.
I cautiously slow, listening.
There’s nothing. No footsteps, no voices.
Now that I think of it, I didn’t see him enter the forest. He could’ve sent his friends to take mine out, and he stayed on the green. He might ambush me when I pop out near the flagpole.
I need to be smart.
Apart from my heaving breath, the only sound is the wind stirring the branches.
Then I hear water lapping, muffled and distant. I’ve drawn level with the lake on the other side of the forest, which gives me an idea.
I could safely dispose of the locket in the lake’s frigid depths and still have time to plant my pennant at the flagpole.
It’s the perfect opportunity because everyone’s distracted and running wild. My detour might even force Lucan into the forest, giving me a chance to get past him.
But mostly, the necklace is burning a hole in my pocket and I’m dying to ditch it, so I go.
The lake is easy to find.
Black water laps the pebbly bank rhythmically, as if encouraging my sly mission. The dark windows of the rowing sheds stare like blank eyes.
Apprehension rolls down my back. Hannah Hale died on a path near here.
After scanning the tree line for lurkers, I take the necklace from my pocket.
My mother gave it to me, back when she was healthy and my life was simple. I was so happy to have a personalized piece of grown-up jewelry. It made me feel special.
Now it feels like a curse.
The locket winks in the navy light of dusk.
“Stay buried this time, okay?” I whisper.
On impulse, I press the cold metal to my lips in a goodbye kiss.
Bunching the necklace in my palm, I throw it as hard as I can. The locket and chain sail through the air like a bird set free. As it enters the water, the soft plunk is barely audible.
The distance is far enough to ease my tension by a fraction. No one will find it out there.
Maybe it’s really over this time.
But I can’t stay and reflect, because I have to plant my pennant before I’m caught.
Darting into the forest, I travel diagonally toward the flagpole. I hop over piles of leaves and muddy roots. The lack of footprints reassures me that I’m alone.
My heart lifts when I spot the Darkbloom flag flicking through the trees. I’m so close that I can taste the relief.
Maybe I—
A twig snaps behind me, loud and clear like a gunshot.