31. Viper
Viper
T he grand hall feels like a fucking mausoleum as we wait for the students to trickle in.
I position myself near the main entrance, watching every face that walks through those doors.
Trust is a luxury we can’t afford right now, and I’m making mental notes of who looks too clean, too composed, too fucking suspicious for someone who crawled out of a grave not so long ago.
Leonard appears first, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes. He nods at me as he passes, settling into one of the chairs near the front. Good. At least one of them has his head screwed on straight.
Next comes Emma Walsh. She’s followed by Peter Hutchinson and Cole Knight, and a bunch more students I have no idea who they are. Blake does, though, and he marks them off on a register as they pass.
With all of those students seated, we wait. “How many have we got?”
“Twenty,” Blake states.
“How many should we have?”
“Twenty with three still in the ground.”
“Right. So, they’re all here, but that doesn’t mean shit. They could still be hostile.”
Blake nods and then turns to Venetia, who has taken her place at the front of the group.
I scan the faces looking back at us, trying to read their expressions. Some look confused, others scared. A few appear angry, which I suppose is understandable given they’ve just been through hell. But there’s something in a couple of their eyes that makes my trigger finger itch.
“Right,” Venetia says, her voice carrying through the hall with authority. “I know this has been a fucked up few days for everyone. Some of you were poisoned and buried alive, which is beyond horrific, and I take full responsibility for the burial. We thought you were dead.”
A murmur runs through the group. Leonard speaks up. “We understand. You did what you thought was right.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “But we need to establish some ground rules moving forward. This academy is still under lockdown, but we have a few others who have come back to join our ranks. Those families have allied with us to provide resources and support,” Venetia continues.
“But we’ve learned that some of you may have been protected with antidotes which saved your arses, while others weren’t.
We don’t know why yet but consider yourselves lucky that your parents had forethought. ”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. There is only one number that I’m allowing through right now, so I know I have to pick it up.
I pull it out and see it’s Landon. I shoot a look at Raff, who instantly recognises that I have to take this call.
He nods and I step back out of the hall, trusting him with my girl’s life.
“Landon,” I say, answering it and then drawing back as a loud gunshot reverberates down the line.
“We’ve got trouble here, boss!” he shouts and fires again.
“No shit,” I mutter. “Any idea who?”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“No idea. Some arseholes are going to find out you don’t mess with the South Side.”
I hear more gunfire, followed by what sounds like breaking glass. My jaw clenches as I process what this means. Someone’s making a move on my territory while I’m stuck at this fucking academy playing war games.
“How many?” I bark into the phone, already calculating how fast I can get back to Manchester if needed.
“At least a dozen, maybe more. They came in hard and fast, in professional gear. This isn’t some random crew looking to make a name.” Another burst of automatic fire punctuates his words. “They knew exactly where to hit us.”
My blood runs cold. The timing is too fucking convenient. We’re here dealing with fake deaths and hostile takeovers, and suddenly my operations are under attack? This isn’t a coincidence.
“Boss, they’re not trying to take territory. They’re destroying everything. The warehouses, the clubs, the—” His voice cuts off suddenly, replaced by the sound of gunfire getting closer.
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone, fury building in my chest like a fucking wildfire. Someone just declared war on the South Side, and they chose their moment perfectly. While I’m here protecting Venetia, my empire is burning.
My next call is immediate. I don’t even need to think about it. It rings once, and Anton picks up.
“If that’s you attacking my territory, know that I will fucking kill you.”
“You think I’m attacking your territory? I have no interest in the South Side.”
“Forgive me if I don’t find that very convincing.
My guys are being shot at, my territory is being taken down, while I’m stuck here under your orders.
” I feel bad for the obvious diss on Venetia, but he doesn’t know we’re forming something here.
He just needs to know that this is all his fucking fault for paying me to protect his daughter and taking me away from my world.
“Viper.” His voice carries a weight that makes me pause. “I’m not behind the attack on your territory.”
“Then who is?”
“The same people who are playing games with fake deaths at the academy. They’re hitting multiple territories simultaneously, using the crisis at St. Sebastian’s as cover.
” I hear him exhale slowly. “My operations in Chester have been hit, along with Bootle and a very lucrative contract I had in Formby. Not to mention others.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “You’re saying this is all connected.”
“I’m saying you need to choose, Viper. Come back to Manchester and try to save what’s left of your empire, or stay there and help my daughter survive what’s coming next.” His pause stretches out like a blade. “Because they’re not just taking territory. They’re eliminating bloodlines.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean by eliminating bloodlines?” I already know. I just want him to say it.
“I mean, apart from me, the families under attack tonight don’t have protected heirs. Their children are the ones who stayed dead in those graves.” His voice drops to barely above a whisper. “This isn’t a territorial grab, Viper. It’s a fucking mass takeover.”
“Who are the families?”
“Fairfax, Halliday and McPherson.”
“So why are they hitting you? Venetia is still alive. Why are they hitting me? I’ve got fuck all to do with this.”
“Perhaps they think Venetia won’t last the night…”
My blood runs cold, and the world slows down. Turning, I run back towards the hall, in what feels like slow motion.
When I burst back through the door, all hell has broken loose. Blake and Rafferty are trying to get to Venetia, who has been surrounded. She is on her knees with a gun held to her head by Leonard fucking Dibley.
“Sorry, princess. Dad wants what he wants.”
I don’t even think. I raise my gun and aim. But Venetia doesn’t need saving. Her gaze locks with mine, and she smiles as her training kicks in.
She drives her elbow back into Leonard’s groin as she half rises. He doubles over, and his grip on the gun loosens. She twists away from him, her body ready to fight.
I watch my girl move like a fucking predator, all fluid grace and lethal intent. She grabs Leonard’s wrist, wrenching it at an angle that makes him scream as she forces him to drop the weapon. It clatters across the stone floor, spinning out of reach.
But Leonard isn’t the only threat. Four other students have weapons drawn, and they’re not pointing them at Leonard. One of them has a knife pressed to Peter Hutchinson’s throat, her face cold. Cole Knight has his hands raised, backing away from two students who are advancing on him with pistols.
Blake and Rafferty are getting control over their attackers, but it’s fucking chaos, and I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.
I fire my gun above my head at the ceiling. The loud crack echoes through the hall. “Everybody fucking freeze!” I roar, lowering my gun and training it on the nearest threat.
Venetia doesn’t freeze. She never does. Instead, she drives her knee into Leonard’s solar plexus, sending him crashing to the floor in a wheezing heap.
She’s already reaching for one of her knives, pulling it out of the sheath on her thigh to drive into Leonard’s guts with a vicious roar that makes my cock hard.
“This time you stay dead, you absolute fucker!” she snarls, twisting the blade before yanking it free. He drops, and blood pools beneath him as his eyes go wide, then vacant.
The other armed students freeze at the sight of him bleeding out on the ancient stones. I keep my gun trained on them, waiting to see who makes the next move.
“Drop your fucking weapons,” I growl, my voice carrying the kind of menace that’s kept the South Side in line for years. “Now.”
The girl holding the knife to Peter’s throat hesitates, her eyes darting between Venetia covered in Leonard’s blood and my gun pointed at her head. Smart girl. She drops the blade and steps back, hands raised.
The guys trying to detain Raff and Blake look like they went ten rounds with a bear and lost. “Weapons?” I growl at Raff.
“Somewhere over there,” he says, rubbing his bruised ribs. “These arseholes are vicious.”
“So are we,” I snarl and move forward, pulling out my spare piece and aiming it in the opposite direction in case anyone gets any ideas.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s probably Anton calling back after I hung up on him.
Venetia rises from Leonard’s corpse, wiping her blade clean on his shirt. There’s blood spattered across her face, and she looks absolutely fucking magnificent. My queen, covered in the blood of her enemies.
“Anyone else want to test me?” she asks, her voice deadly calm as she surveys the remaining students. The ones who stayed loyal are grim-faced and pissed-off. The ones who were part of Leonard’s little coup attempt look like they’re reconsidering their life choices.
My phone keeps buzzing, but I ignore it. Right now, nothing matters except the threat in this room. “Blake, Raff—you two all right?”
“Bruised but functional,” Blake replies, straightening his shirt. There’s blood on his knuckles.
“Same,” Rafferty grunts, rotating his shoulder to test it. “These fuckers moved as soon as you left the room.”
I keep my guns trained on the remaining hostile students while Venetia moves with predatory grace, checking each of them for hidden weapons. She’s still got Leonard’s blood on her hands, and the sight of it makes something primal and possessive roar in my chest.
I smile slowly. “Aww, afraid of me, are you?” I ask one of the students, who is directly in my line of fire.
He grimaces at me, but I can see the effect I have on him. The question is, what would they have done if I hadn’t stepped out? Was Landon’s call a coincidence or planned?
“Get them rounded up. We’re sending them packing.”
“To where?” one of them asks.
“Who gives a shit. Not here. Your parents coordinated an attack on the families left without living heirs after their little poisoning stunt. Did you all volunteer for that, or were you forced into it? Not that it fucking matters. But you all failed to consider one thing…”
“Yeah? What’s that then?” the girl with the cold expression asks.
“No one hurts my girl and lives to tell about it.” I bring both guns together and fire both at the same time. The two bodies haven’t hit the floor before Raff takes great delight in shooting his attackers square between the eyes.
The rest of the traitors are dead before they can escape the confines of the hall.