Chapter 49 #2
My phone suddenly buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out to see a text from Julian. Still out with the crew?
I tapped out a quick reply. Just finished. Almost back at my dorm. I’ll let you know once I’m there.
Julian: Good. Can't wait to see you tomorrow ;)
Me: Me too.
I slipped my phone back in my bag, and my fingers brushed against the envelope.
Right. Carolina's note.
I sighed and pulled it out, feeling guilty for ignoring it. She'd been so helpful with the wedding planning, and here I was putting off reading her questions because I was slightly buzzed and wanted to get back to my dorm to watch some trash TV so I could take my mind off all the pressure.
I stopped under a light and tore open the envelope. The note inside wasn't from Carolina after all. The handwriting was Julian's. Bold, confident strokes in black ink.
10 PM. Artemis Building.
I blinked, reading it again. That was it. Just those four words.
I checked my phone. 9:47 PM.
Thirteen minutes.
The Artemis Building was on the other side of campus. If I hurried, I could make it in time. I turned and started walking, then jogging, toward the southeast end of campus where the old administrative buildings stood.
When I arrived at the Artemis Building, I headed straight for the eastern wall, because that was exactly where the Selection List got posted each year.
“Julian?” I called out, squinting into the darkness. “Are you here?”
Then I saw it. A piece of paper on the wall.
I reached up and grabbed it, my breath catching. It was formatted exactly like the Selection List. That same official layout, the same crimson wax seals around the edges, the formal typography. But there was only one name on it.
JULIAN VALCOURT
There was also an arrow at the bottom indicating I should flip it over. On the back, there was a message written in Julian's handwriting.
It’s your turn to find me, Violet.
First location hint: Where we first laid eyes on each other. Where it all began.
Catch me if you can, baby…
- J
A smile spread across my face. He was giving me another hunt. Only this time, I was hunting him.
I looked at the clue again. Where we first laid eyes on each other. Where it all began.
That could only mean the St. Dionysius statue. I'd just been there.
I shoved the paper in my jacket pocket and spun around.
I cut back through the quad, lungs burning as I ran harder than I had in months. The campus felt different now that I was chasing instead of being chased. My heart was racing, but not with fear. With anticipation.
The St. Dionysius statue came into view, looming out of the darkness. I slowed to a walk as I approached it, pulse still hammering. My eyes scanned the surrounding paths, the shadows between the trees, the benches, the low stone walls.
Nothing. No Julian leaning casually against the pedestal. No dark silhouette stepping out from behind the nearby hedges. No familiar presence watching me from the shadows.
I frowned and stepped closer, circling the statue once, then twice. For a split second, disappointment flared in my chest. Then my gaze dropped. There, taped neatly to the base of the statue, just above the engraved plaque, was another piece of paper.
I crouched and peeled it free, my fingers already tingling.
Too late, baby. But I’ll give you another shot. You can find me at the place where we first spoke.
My eyes flicked up again, instinctively searching the darkness as if I might catch Julian watching me read the note. Then I huffed out a breath that was half laugh, half groan. Of course he wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
The place where we first spoke.
My mind immediately jumped back to my first day on campus.
The chilly fog in the air. The walkway I’d headed into after my first-ever conversation with Jeremiah, only to run straight into Julian.
The weight of his attention. The sound of his voice for the very first time, low and amused and unmistakably dangerous.
I straightened, folding the note and slipping it into my pocket, and a grin tugged at my lips. “Oh, Julian,” I murmured to the empty quad. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I took off again, breaking into a run as I headed toward the eastern quad, every sense alert now.
The colonnaded walkway was empty when I reached it. Shadows stretched between the pillars, deep and narrow, perfect places to hide, and my footsteps slowed as I moved beneath the arches, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet night.
This was it. The place where Julian and I first spoke.
My gaze swept the length of the walkway. Nothing.
I let out a breath through my nose, equal parts annoyed and amused. “You’re really pushing your luck,” I muttered. “I’m going to find you.”
Then I saw it. Another sheet of paper was taped neatly to one of the pillars at eye level, placed so deliberately that there was no way I could miss it. I crossed the distance in a few quick steps and peeled it free.
Missed me again. Meet me in the sanctified space where you began stalking me…
“Really?” I murmured, my voice laced with a mixture of sarcasm and amusement.
I knew exactly what he meant.
The Chapel of Saints. Beneath it was the ossuary, which contained the tunnel that my friends and I had discovered during our investigation into the Dionysus Club.
The same tunnel that had carried me straight into the heart of Julian’s world when I decided to follow it all the way to the Dionysus mansion in an attempt to figure out what went on there.
My pulse picked up again, heat curling low in my belly as the memory resurfaced. Julian wasn’t just teasing me. He was retracing our story in reverse, making me walk it again with open eyes.
I folded the note carefully and slipped it into my pocket, already turning toward the path that led uphill toward the chapel.
“Stalking,” I said quietly to myself as I started walking. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
I lifted my chin and picked up my pace. Soon, the Chapel of Saints rose before me. Its spindly gothic spires cut into the night sky, and at the highest point, the blackened iron cross still leaned slightly to one side, just as it always had.
I slowed as I climbed the steps, my breath fogging in the cold air. The heavy oak doors loomed in front of me, their carvings unmistakable even in the low light. Angels. Hourglasses. Vines winding through skulls.
I pushed the door open and slipped inside to find the chapel empty. No ghost tours tonight, apparently.
Moonlight spilled through the stained-glass windows, pooling across the stone floor and rows of dark wooden pews. The creepy old bone chandelier hung overhead, ribs arched like wings, vertebrae spiraling outward, skulls clustered at its core.
My footsteps echoed softly as I moved down the aisle, heart beating a little faster now. If Julian was still here, he was hiding well.
“I’ve got you now,” I called out. “Come out, come out…”
A second later, I saw another small piece of paper. It rested on the altar ahead of me, weighed down by a smooth stone.
I approached slowly and picked it up, already smiling despite myself.
Still too late to catch me, baby, the note said. But I’ll give you one more chance. Turn the page over.
I exhaled a soft laugh through my nose and flipped the paper.
Final clue:
Where you used to sit alone.
Where you watched, waited, and learned.
Where you thought no one ever noticed you.
My chest tightened, warmth blooming beneath my ribs. He had to mean the library. But not just any part of it. My little spot. The tucked-away corner desk I’d claimed during my first semester at BHU. Julian had obviously noticed me there when he was ‘surveilling’ me, as he liked to call it.
I folded the note and slid it into my pocket, casting one last glance around the chapel. Then I turned and slipped back out into the night, my steps quickening as I headed toward the library, pulse thrumming with anticipation.
One more chance to catch Julian.
Although… I had the feeling he’d already decided exactly how this game would end.
Five minutes later, the library loomed ahead, its tall windows dark except for a faint glow on the upper floors. That was my first clue that something was amiss.
The library was never empty. Even late at night, the place was always buzzing with activity. Students hunched over laptops, coffee cups scattered everywhere, whispers and footsteps echoing between the stacks.
When I stepped inside, the silence swallowed me whole. The security desk was unattended, and the lights were dimmed lower than usual, casting long shadows between the shelves.
I headed up the stairs, and by the time I reached the fourth floor, anticipation was curling tight and warm in my stomach. This was my floor; the quietest one.
It was completely deserted. Every table was clear. Every chair pushed in neatly. Even the study lamps were dark, as if someone had deliberately shut the space down just for me.
I walked toward the far end, toward the small desk tucked in the corner. My spot. The chair was pulled out, and a single piece of paper sat on the desk.
I stopped in front of it, breath shallow, then picked the note up.
Too late, baby. Now it’s my turn…
The overhead lights suddenly went out, plunging the fourth floor into darkness so complete it stole the air from my lungs.
I froze and dropped my purse, heart slamming against my ribs as every sense sharpened at once. Then, at the far end of the floor, I saw something red flickering to life.
Neon lines cut through the black. Stitched lips curved into a glowing, wicked grin, and crosses burned where eyes should have been, stark and unmistakable.
It was a mask.
The tall figure beneath it stepped forward slowly, deliberately, letting me see him. Letting me feel it. The height. The confidence. The way he owned the darkness like it belonged to him.
A thrill shot straight through me, and my breath hitched as the masked man tilted his head, just slightly, like he was studying me. Then he started running.