Chapter 2
2
Sonny
I ’m led off the beach and through the woods, then back onto campus in tense silence. Divina and the other two men walk ahead of me while Raze trudges at my back. They’ve deemed that I won’t be a flight risk, but still kept their attack dog on high alert, just in case.
It’s freezing. I’m not sure if the trees blocked the wind before, or if I was so out of it from Matilda’s tonic that I hardly noticed the low temperature. The thin jacket and sweatpants that I wandered out here in aren’t providing much cover. My fingers feel so frozen I can hardly move them, and my breath is blowing out before me in erratic plumes.
Reality tried to settle in, a lead weight against my stomach as we hiked through the woods in silence, but I refused to acknowledge it.
Each time my thoughts wandered to Poppy, I forced myself to focus on something else. Like the subtle way the two men kept their distance from Divina, even though they were trying to keep up a united front.
Or the sobs that shook Divina’s shoulders. She kept them silent so no one else would notice, though I don’t think anyone would have cared if they had.
I certainly don’t.
The only thing I didn’t use to distract my racing thoughts was the man at my back. In fact, he was another thought pattern I marked as unsafe and avoided at all costs.
Not that he made any attempt to gain my attention, anyway.
The campus is eerily silent when we break through the edge of the woods at the same spot I entered less than twenty-four hours prior.
That’s so wild to think about.
Less than twenty-four hours, and everything I thought to be true has been flipped on its head.
A mental wall slams down against the thought.
I can’t fall down that rabbit hole.
Instead, I peer out at the campus before me and brace for the humiliation of being carted to who-knows-where with four sour-faced people. Naturally, Devlin and the faculty housing are quiet. But the silence gets weird when the rest of the campus feels just as abandoned.
There are no students filing in and out of lecture halls or eating in the dining hall. No one studying or throwing a ball in the quad. It makes no sense. We’re only one week out from finals, and no one is around?
It could be a mind game. Some way they’re using their gifts to block everyone out. I can only hope they’re using the same energy to block me from view. I’m so out of my depths here, it’s laughable.
Just as I’m about to ask where they’re taking me, they hook a left and cut across a small break in administration buildings that leads to the back of the original Landry home.
I try to commit the path to memory, but they move so fast through what I assume are the domestic passages of the home where employees used to buzz through, hooking a quick left here and right there. Finally, we reach a door that leads to somewhere I know—the Landry ballroom.
A false door sits at the back of the room, disguised to appear as one of the decorative mahogany panels. The tall man—I think his name is James—hooks his finger through a small latch and yanks the panel open, revealing an ominous set of stone stairs that stretch into a pool of darkness.
The four of us shuffle onto the landing as James tugs the door shut until it seals so tightly I can’t see inches in front of my face. Something clicks to my left, and a line of sconces roars to life, the fire ignited from nowhere. They’re evenly spaced on either side of the stairs, continuing down a seemingly endless tunnel of stone that James has begun his descent toward.
Panic slices through me like a hot knife.
This is it . This is where they’re going to take me to chop me up and make me disappear without anyone knowing. The air smells damp and putrid—the perfect place for a kill. I wonder how many people have been brought down here to die.
Dread has my steps faltering, slowing me down until Raze’s chest collides with my back. I bounce off him, my body recoiling at his touch. He doesn’t say anything, just glares down at me with that blank expression that makes me want to slap some emotion into him.
James turns at the sound of the scuffle, his face compressing into a flat look. “Hurry along,” he chides impatiently. “We’ve only got a little bit more of a walk.”
Raze backs up the command with the incline of his chin—a silent warning to keep going, or face the consequences. My feet reluctantly move again, my survival instincts deciding that whatever lies ahead is probably still better than the consequence that will come from challenging the hulking man at my back.
True to his word, James and the other man make an abrupt left at an offshoot of the tunnel. Divina hangs at the intersection with a disassociated look, her arms wrapped around her torso as if she’s holding herself for comfort. She allows me and Raze to pass by her without issue. I turn away from her stony face to see that they’ve led me to a small corridor with two open doors on each side.
Cells.
These are prison cells.
Terror claws at me again, propelling my body backward. They aren’t going to cut me up and kill me. They’re going to leave me down here for who-knows-how-long to rot.
Isn’t that worse?
Raze shoves against my back, pushing me toward an open cell on the far right. The two men stand beside the door expectantly, their arms crossed over their chests as if this is simply an inconvenient deviation from their regular schedule.
For the first time since we left the beach, I look over my shoulder at Raze for help. He maintains the same blank expression, and it’s like oxygen for the fiery rage burning inside me. My rebuttal to his palms against my back is swift. Before any of them can anticipate what’s about to happen, I swing my fist completely around and slam it directly into his jaw.
The same strong, stubbled jaw that was scraping against my skin just over a day ago.
Fight-or-flight mode has kicked in, and I’ve defaulted to violence.
The other two men shout their protests.
I resist the urge to hug my fist against my chest and release the sob of emotion that’s been building up inside of me since the beach. There was a cracking sound when my fist hit his face that felt unnatural. I’m sure I’ve broken something, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins hasn’t allowed me to feel the pain from that yet.
My eyes remain fixed on Raze, though. On the way his usually-relaxed eyes have widened into saucers for the first time ever. On the angry scowl pinching his brows together. The way one hand cradles his jaw as the other flexes a fist at his side.
He looks absolutely feral. An injured animal, ready to strike.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he surprises all of us by standing there, utterly still, as we process what I’ve just done and who I’ve done it to.
The weapon of the Midnight Syndicate.
“Darling, he’s the last thing people see before they die,” Divina had boasted back at the beach.
And I see what I missed back then.
I see the hesitation in his angry stare.
The dread.
He doesn’t want to hurt me, but he’s caught up in this obligation. These men and Divina have an air of superiority over him.
Something doesn’t make sense. Even if he’s their weapon to wield, they should still fear him. Fear what he’s done—what he’s capable of doing to them, if they move wrong.
Which tells me one thing: They’ve got to have some sort of leash on him.
And maybe if I can figure out what that is, I can stop him from killing me.
“Get in the cell.” His voice is a low growl, meant for only me to hear.
Swallowing past the terrified lump in my throat, I hold my chin high and follow his command. I’m only one step forward when James huffs out an irritated breath.
“Surely, you aren’t going to allow her to do that without consequences.” He’s staring at Raze as if he has three heads.
Ashton rubs his forehead. “Why don’t we kill her now and save ourselves the headache?”
“She has the right to a trial before the entire Midnight Syndicate,” Divina pipes up defensively, shocking me worse than Raze’s resistance to retaliate.
When she catches my surprised stare, she sneers at me, then adds, “And the right to be punished to the full extent of our laws.”
“She has no rights at all,” James bites out. He and Ashton remain in their spots, blocking my path.
“Regardless of what you decide for her fate, it will be me delivering the final blow,” Raze tells them. “And I’ve decided that some time down here in the darkness will be the first phase of whatever torture she endures. Now, move .”
They don’t challenge him any further. Either because Raze’s tone left no room for argument, or because he emphasized the command by shoving his hands against my shoulders and sending me flying toward them. They step out of the way just in time for me to fall on my ass in the cell with another crack. This time it’s my hip against the hard stone.
No one speaks as he slams the heavy metal door shut and turns away without another glance in my direction. I quickly climb to my feet to watch them through the small, barred square that’s been cut into the door. The two men follow close behind his heels, joining Divina at the mouth of the corridor. They walk back toward the stairs together in a close huddle.
When the door at the top of the steps closes with a loud bang, all the overhead lights blink out. Darkness falls over me, and I’m left alone.
I ram my palms against the door, testing the locks over and over to see if they might fail against the constant pressure.
It’s a futile attempt that only costs me energy I don’t have. With the darkness surrounding me and the threat gone, the adrenaline that kept me from feeling the effects of my own recklessness has started to pull back. I’m left feeling sore and depleted.
Sliding my fingertips along the stone walls, I blindly search for the cot I saw when Raze shoved me in here with the lights on. It takes forever. Even with small steps, I end up tripping over random things—a couple of large rocks that have likely crumbled off the wall, a bucket for relieving myself, and finally, the cot.
It’s nothing more than a few pieces of wood sitting atop two cement blocks. Somehow, my mind made it out to be much more comfortable. Instead of getting hung up on it, I remind myself it’s better than sleeping against the damp, hard ground.
Lying back, I hug my arms to my chest and turn on my side in a fetal position, then allow all the thoughts and emotions I’ve been avoiding to come flooding in.