30. Venetia
Venetia
“ L eonard?” I croak, holding my throat as I stare at the slightly filthy, slightly crazed man I buried not that long ago. “What is going on?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was the last to…” He gestures behind me to the graves. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”
“Back from what?”
“Beacon must’ve poisoned us,” he murmurs. “I remember seeing people passing out in the dining hall after eating and drinking before I must have. You buried us?”
“We thought you were dead.” The horror. The shame I feel for burying them alive is profound. “I’m sorry, we thought you were dead.”
He nods slowly. “I think maybe we were, but then we weren’t.” He frowns. “My parents were always so vigilant.”
“You were given an antidote before you were poisoned,” Blake says slowly. “It was enough to kick in after a few hours, but the toxin hammered you first.”
“An antidote from who?” I ask.
“Their parents,” Rafferty states. “Always prepare for the worst.”
“And them?” I turn and look at the occupied graves. “What about them?”
“Their parents must not have prepared them.”
“But some did? Against this particular toxin? It seems a bit…”
“Far-fetched?”
“Yeah.”
“Not if you know the right people,” Leonard says, wiping dirt from his face with shaking hands, far more composed now than I think I would be under these circumstances.
Waking up buried… I shudder. “My dad’s been paranoid about chemical attacks since I was twelve.
Made me carry antidotes for everything from ricin to tetrodotoxin in a special compartment in my watch.
” He holds up his wrist, showing a sleek timepiece that looks more like a piece of spy equipment than jewellery.
“But whatever they gave me was against my knowledge. Not that I’m complaining,” he adds with a small laugh.
I stare at him, my mind reeling. “Okay. Some parents prepared their children for this specific scenario, and others didn’t. Oh, God!” Panic hits my chest. Serious panic. “Please tell me Imogen Fairfax is alive!”
“She was one of the first to go down,” he says quietly. “I saw her collapse before I did.”
My heart pounds as I scan the disturbed graves. “We need to check.” The thought of Helena Fairfax’s throat-slashing gesture flashes through my mind. If her daughter is actually dead while others were given antidotes...
“Venetia,” Viper says, his voice carrying a warning. “If some families protected their kids and others didn’t, we’re talking about a deliberate selection process.”
“Meaning some families were meant to lose their heirs permanently,” Blake adds grimly. “Those who protected their kids will have passed. Those who didn’t protect their heirs, their interests cannot be trusted.”
“Yeah, but by who?” Leonard snaps. The relief on his face that he has passed some godawful test is clear.
“We are still trying to figure that part out,” I say. “We have information about two factions who are meant to be on the same side, but aren’t.”
“So we are dealing with a two-pronged attack?”
“It appears that way.”
He stares at me.
I stare back at him.
He seems to be okay. He’s not melting down or going into shock. He is grim, determined.
“I’m in. Whatever you’re planning, I want to kick someone’s arse over this.”
“Oh, you’re in,” Viper growls. “Whether you want to be or not. This is war.”
“We need a catalogue of who is alive and who isn’t. We need to track the others down.”
“Probably gone to their rooms to shower,” Leonard spits out, and again I feel truly terrible about what I did to them. “That’s where I was headed, then I was going to call my parents to find out what the fuck is going on.”
“Okay, so we need to alert everyone all at once. If we use the academy intercom system, we should be able to reach everyone and let them know to come to the hall,” I decide.
Blake nods. “Leonard, you okay?”
He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Was it pleasant waking up to find myself under a pile of dirt? No. Was it fuck. But luckily for you lot, you didn’t do a great job with depth.”
“Hey,” Viper snaps. “We did the best we could with what we had.”
“Which was us,” Rafferty chimes in. “In the pouring rain, with a mass killer on the loose.”
“Fair enough,” Leonard says. “It wasn’t a complaint. Trust me.”
“Do you need anything?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. “Shower, clean clothes, food and water that isn’t poisoned, and a direction in which to start shooting.”
“We’re working on it. Sean Donovan is in charge of the kitchen. There are sandwiches and bottled water available right now. Hopefully, we’ll be fully functional come morning,” Blake says.
“If I see anyone on my way back to my room, I’ll tell them to head to the hall.”
“Thanks, Leonard, and I’m really sorry,” I say.
“Sorry for what? Doing what you thought was best? You could’ve left us to rot or chucked us in the moat.” He saunters off with a backwards wave, and I stare after him.
“Wow. He’s got grit.”
“You expected anything less from the students who stayed behind?” Raff asks with a smile.
“No, but can we trust him?”
“Time will tell,” Blake says. “Let’s find the intercom system and get this show on the road.”
We make our way back to the admin building, the weight of what we’ve just learned settling over me like a suffocating blanket.
Leonard’s casual acceptance of being buried alive is both impressive and deeply unsettling.
The fact that some families prepared their children with antidotes while others didn’t, makes me wonder if my dad was slipping antidotes into my food. Did Blake’s? Raff’s?
I push through the main entrance, my mind racing.
If this was orchestrated by my father, then some families were always meant to be eliminated.
Their heirs were meant to die, clearing the way for territory grabs.
Fairfax territory grabs. Did he know Imogen wasn’t protected, or was it potluck on who didn’t make it?
But then, a mafia boss without heirs has no legacy.
I believe Imogen was an only child. Were the other two who died only children?
“Does Leonard have siblings?” I ask, suddenly.
“An older brother. Four years apart, I think,” Raff replies.
I nod slowly.
“What are you thinking?” Viper asks.
I repeat my thoughts to them.
“But then why not just single those ones out?” Viper asks.
“True. I’m so fucking confused right now.”
“The administration office,” Blake says, leading us down a corridor. “The intercom system should be centrally controlled from there.”
We reach a heavy wooden door marked ‘Administration’ in brass letters. Blake tries the handle. It’s locked. Viper steps forward with a grunt, and I hear the satisfying crack of wood as he kicks it open.
Inside, the office looks like it belongs to a different century. Dark wood panelling, leather-bound ledgers, and a massive desk that probably weighs more than a small car. But there, mounted on the wall behind the desk, is a modern intercom control panel.
Blake moves to it immediately, flicking switches. “Should broadcast to every room, every corridor, every common area.”
I take a deep breath, trying to organise my thoughts.
I press the button on the intercom, hearing the slight crackle as the system comes online.
“This is Venetia Corbyn-Hale. All students in the academy, please report to the grand hall. This is not optional. We need to do a headcount, and anyone not in attendance will be classified as hostile and shot on sight.”
Viper snorts and nods approvingly.
“Well, that’s one way to get them up and in the hall,” Blake remarks.
I release the button and step back. We are still nowhere close to getting anything done, but we are getting our ducks in a row, which has to count for something. I think.