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“There is nothing little about me,” I practically purred, running a hand down the cleavage my shirt revealed. Tanner’s Adam’s apple bobbed, eyes riveted on the swath of skin exposed. “You, on the other hand…” I trailed off, satisfaction filling me when Tanner’s cheeks turned red and he huffed out his chest.

Beau snickered, covering his mouth with his hand when Tanner turned his glare onto my best friend.

“As much as I love measuring penises,” Aiden deadpanned, “I would rather talk about you.”

He pierced me with a stare that put all other stares to shame. He took tall, dark, and sexy to a whole new extreme with that one eloquent look that made words unnecessary. Once again, he was demanding things of me I wasn’t sure I wanted to give him.

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” I huffed, glaring at my spaghetti. I swirled it around my fork, my appetite suddenly forgotten.

“You sure? I think flexibility is quite interesting,” he said.

“Why do you always have to make things a sexual innuendo?” I asked absently. Tentatively, I took a bite of the spaghetti. Knowing my luck, psycho Aiden would’ve poisoned it. Lure me in with a false sense of security…and then bam. Murder me.

It wasn’t poisoned, at least from what little I knew of how poison tastes (which was nothing at all), but it was salty.

Like Aiden’s finger.

“It’s only sexual if you make it sexual,” Tanner pointed out.

“How did I make it sexual by pointing out he made it sexual?” I jabbed a finger at Aiden’s chest across the table. When the asshole opened his mouth to respond, and no doubt confuse me further, I blurted, “Where’s Kace?”

His energetic presence was noticeably absent.

Aiden and Tanner exchanged a quick look. It was only a second, but it allowed me to know everything they weren’t telling me.

Whatever they said next was going to be a lie.

“Sleeping, probably,” Tanner said dismissively. Too dismissively. Too nonchalantly.

How ridiculous would it be if I sang “liar, liar, pants on fire”?

I thought of the last time I had seen him. The look of terror on his face seconds before he was slapped. The hand-shaped, red imprint on his cheek. The anger burning in his eyes. They were hiding something from me, and I was damn near determined to get to the bottom of it.

Aiden stiffened suddenly. His hand darted out and grabbed my own, squeezing tightly. I glanced at him in confusion before turning a quirked brow to Beau. Beau, however, was staring at the offending limb as if he hoped he could burn a hole through it.

“Keep your head down and don’t fucking say anything,” Aiden hissed, releasing me and bowing his head. His long, ringed fingers absently picked apart his sandwich as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

But I could see the tension in his powerful muscles, the rigid way he held himself.

“Head down,” Tanner snapped, kicking my shin. Obediently, perhaps recognizing the plea in their command, I lowered my head. Beau, beside me, did the same.

When the professors entered the cafeteria, they didn’t walk. They glided. The footsteps had an eerie absence of sound, which made the beating of my heart all the more oppressive and haunting. I could hear nothing but my own heart pounding in tandem to their rhythmic steps.

With bated breath, I glanced up through my fringe of thick lashes, ignoring Aiden’s hiss of disapproval.

They moved to form a circle around the perimeter of the cafeteria, their masked faces staring at no one and everyone.

Static crackled overhead from the school’s intercom. A mechanical voice echoed over the speaker.

“Juliet Hudson,” it said. I couldn’t decipher any gender. It just…was.

A trembling girl stood from a table near ours. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen and had a light cascade of bleached blond hair and way too much eye makeup.

The moment she stood, two of the professors rushed forward and grabbed each of her arms.

I couldn’t help my sharp intake of breath.

This didn’t remind me of a school…this reminded me of prison guards transporting prisoners.