Page 16

“ T his is a really fucking stupid idea.” My flashlight shines on Dayton as he sifts through the keys we lifted from the janitor’s station.

He laughs and triumphantly separates what seems like the correct key from the rest of them on the keychain. “It feels like the time I was in boarding school.”

“Boarding school?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he says with a grin, pushing the key into the dean’s office door. “Until I got expelled for sneaking into the girls’ rooms.”

“That’s fucking fitting.”

The lock clicks open, and the door swings wide to reveal a seriously eerie office. Dayton holds the door for me as we step inside, and I click on a desk lamp. The office looks straight out of a low-budget mystery flick—all dark wood, towering bookshelves lined with thick, leather-bound books, a massive oak desk stacked with ledgers, and looming portraits of stern-looking men watching over the room with blank, judgmental eyes.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Dayton whispers, scanning the shelves.

“We’re looking for anything that could tie him to the Syndicate. Files, ledgers, even a Post-it note—let’s make this quick.” Upon our investigation of the scrapbook we found out that the Dean of AGU also graduated with our parents. So, hopefully, we can find something in here that can help us find out where the Syndicate has Levi since no one has been helpful thus far.

I make a beeline to the desk drawers and begin to rifle through them. I only glance at his desktop that is sitting on the desk. I’ve already remotely hacked into that. Anything worth a damn is written in ink.

“Dean Adams is really into some boring fucking books,” Dayton scoffs, running his finger along the edges of the spines.

“Stop touching every fucking thing,” I hiss. “Look for valuable shit… like I just fucking told you.”

“...Fucking bossy… I need Levi back so you can boss him around… or are you always the bottom bitch?”

“Why don’t you watch us next time and find out?” I clap back. There’s not much in the desk worth mentioning. I sigh and scratch my head, ready to give up.

“Hey, check this out,” Dayton says, holding up a worn, leather-bound journal, thick and heavy with pages frayed at the edges. “Looks like he kept a journal, and it’s not just random records—he’s got Syndicate stuff in here. And Levi.”

My pulse spikes as I lean in closer, scanning over Dayton’s shoulder. The dean’s cramped, slanted writing covers the pages. A few lines jump out, hitting like a punch:

William’s boy has too much darkness. They don’t understand the risk of those with reckless blood.

The phrase “reckless blood” sends a chill down my spine, coiling into a knot of anger and dread in my chest. There’s nothing dark or reckless about Levi. If anything, he’s grossly misunderstood. My eyes dart down to a photo clipped to the page—a close-up of Levi from earlier this school year, his face marked with a thick, red X. Above it, written in shaky, smeared ink, is a single word:

Removal.

The word digs into me like a blade. “What the hell is this?” I demand, pressing my finger against the photo. “What the hell does ‘removal’ mean?”

Dayton doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes are locked on the page, but it’s like he’s somewhere else entirely. His jaw clenches, and I notice the flicker of something in his eyes—something raw and panicked. He starts to speak, then stops, and his silence is almost as loud as any scream.

“Dayton,” I snap, shoving him hard enough to jar him out of his trance. “You’re hiding something. Spill it.”

“Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, raking his fingers through his hair until his knuckles go white. He’s unraveling in front of me, pulling at his scalp like he can tear whatever’s gnawing at him right out of his head.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand.

“Kai, this isn’t just about Levi. Don’t you get it? They’ve been watching all of us. All of us. Our families, for God knows how long—generations, maybe. They own us.”

His words fade, and I feel my stomach drop as the implications settle like lead in my gut. “What do you mean, they own us? What do they mean by reckless blood, Day?”

Dayton’s jaw tightens, and he takes a shaky breath, eyes darting away as if he can’t stand to look at me. “I swore, Kai. I swore I wouldn’t talk about it.”

I grab him by the shoulder, forcing him to face me. “Don’t give me that. I’m your best fucking friend. Whatever’s going on, whatever the hell this removal crap means, I deserve to know.”

He yanks back, eyes flashing with a sudden fury, an intensity I’ve never seen in him before. Every ounce of lightheartedness that Dayton embodies has suddenly been drained out of his body. “No. Levi is MY brother. The kind of brotherhood that isn’t just bound by blood—or marriage—but by the shadows that follow us.”

“Then you need to bring them out into the light before it shatters us all.”

The words sit heavy in the air between us, thickening the tension.

Dayton’s brow furrows, and I open my mouth to question him when he suddenly holds up a finger, signaling me to stay quiet, and then jerks his chin toward the door. His DSN tattoo below his ear, laughing in my face. We may be frat brothers, but he’s right. I’ll never be his actual brother. Not like Levi.

Faint footsteps echo down the hallway, the muffled thud sending a jolt of alarm through my veins. Dayton’s eyes widen, and without another second’s hesitation, he snaps the journal shut, cramming it into his jacket.

“Shit.”

Panic claws at my insides, adrenaline flooding every nerve as Dayton’s gaze darts around the room, calculating, desperate.

“Back door,” he mouths, pointing. I don’t hesitate, following his lead as we move toward the exit. My pulse pounds in my ears, louder than the footsteps outside that are getting closer, mingling with the metallic jangle of keys.

We’re out of time.

“Running isn’t optional,” Dayton whispers, his hand gripping my arm with a flash of that reckless, wild look in his eyes.

We duck through the rear exit, carefully closing the door just as the office door swings open behind us. I glance around and realize we’re on a narrow landing that leads down a stone stairwell shrouded in darkness.

“What the fuck is this?”

Dayton doesn’t answer, just pulls out his flashlight, shining it down the steps before giving me a hurried wave. “Come on,” he mouths and starts descending, his footsteps muffled against the damp stone. I follow close behind, each step echoing faintly in the silence. Everything about these feels claustrophobic, and for a moment, I wonder if we’re leading ourselves straight into another trap. But I push that thought down.

The stairs seem to go on forever, winding down into a musty corridor with barely enough room for us to stand shoulder to shoulder. The dampness hangs heavy, the air stale with disuse, smelling faintly of earth.

“What the hell is this place?” I whisper to Dayton.

He throws a wink over his shoulder, barely audible as he murmurs back, “Harry Potter shit, obviously.” Despite the fear coursing through me, I almost laugh—trust him to make a joke when we’re neck-deep in a nightmare. He’s been dying to have a Harry Potter movie marathon with Sable and the rest of us, and I am dreading it. Overrated bullshit.

“Yeah? Tell that to the Auror about to catch us,” I mutter, casting a quick look over my shoulder, half expecting to see the guard barreling down the stairs behind us. But the corridor stretches on, silent and empty, save for our shallow breaths.

When we make it down, we find ourselves in a long hallway. “Are we even sure where this ends up?”

“No. But the stones are familiar. Where are they from?”

“The catacombs?”

“Think it ends there?”

“That would mean the entire University is on top of a tunnel system.”

“I’ve watched how this movie ends…” Dayton’s voice trails off.

“For the love of fuck, stop watching scary movies with Sable.”

We press forward, our pace quickening as the whispers of footsteps grow fainter behind us. The air grows colder, the walls narrowing as the tunnel takes us deeper. I have to crouch slightly to avoid hitting my head on the low, jagged ceiling. Dayton’s flashlight catches glimpses of the stonework—ornate arches, symbols chiseled into the rock.

“Reckless blood,” I mutter, half to myself, as my thoughts start spiraling. They’re calling Levi reckless blood like it’s something inherent, something they can’t tame. But what does that even mean? And why the hell has Dayton gone quiet?

“Come on,” he urges.

After what feels like an eternity, the passage narrows and ends abruptly—a slab of stone looms before us, its surface cloaked in thick moss and tangled vines. Dayton’s flashlight flickers as he studies the stone.

He turns to me, his grin slight but wicked, the glint in his eyes a mix of mischief and something darker. “Now this is some Indiana Jones shit?”

I roll my eyes. “Actually… I am banning all movies from the Manor.”

“You can’t do that,” he says, pushing on the stone. “Help me with this.”

Together, we push. The slab groans against our effort, the sound a low, guttural scrape that reverberates through the narrow corridor, amplifying the stillness.

“Shit!” I hiss. With one last heave, the stone shifts just enough for us to slip through, leaving a sliver of darkness on the other side. He steps through first, his hand reaching back to pull me in after him. The air grows colder as we emerge into a staircase spiraling upward, its steps uneven and slick with grime. The faint scent of mildew clings to everything, and I can hear the distant sound of water dripping somewhere above.

Finally, we reach a door at the top of the staircase, its wood splintered and warped, barely hanging on its rusted hinges. Dayton pushes it open with a creak that sets my teeth on edge, and we step through into the hollowed remains of the catacombs.

“So this is where this ends up?”

“Does that mean that there are tunnels all over the campus?”

“I mean… the campus is fucking ancient. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

We head up the familiar stone steps that lead back into the chapel from the catacombs and through the curtain. The room yawns before us. Scattered pews lie in disarray, some overturned, others rotted through entirely.

As we near the far side of the chapel, Dayton stops, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts with a frown. “Gotta let Silas know what’s up,” he mutters, glancing around like he expects the shadows to lunge for us. He holds the phone to his ear, waiting, but from the expression on his face, it’s clear no one’s picking up.

“Silas,” he growls. “You’ve got the worst timing in the world, you know that?”

“He didn’t answer?”

“Sable’s been home for a day, and he already can’t get out of her cunt long enough to answer the phone.”

“Great. Just Great.” I pull out my own phone, opening up the tracking app I have installed on all of their phones. The screen loads, and sure enough, Silas’ dot hovers beside Sable’s back at the manor.

His mouth curls in a faint smirk. “Well, someone’s a little jealous.”

“Jealous? No, just… frustrated.” Frustration, jealousy—whatever it is, it’s more than a little distracting. But now’s not the time. “Look, we’ll deal with him later,” I say, pocketing my phone.

We make our way back to the Manor, walking through the campus streets. The chapel is on the outskirts of campus, so it would be rare that we would run into someone if there isn’t a party going on. The sidewalk is empty, only illuminated by scattered streetlights along our way.

After a while, I can’t take it anymore. “You know something about Levi,” I say, the accusation falling between us. “You know what the Syndicate means by ‘reckless blood,’ don’t you?”

Dayton’s quiet for a beat, his face drawn. His pace slows as he glances at me. “Look, Kai… it’s not something I can explain in a few words. There are things about Levi… things he’s done, and things about our family that aren’t normal. It’s?—”

“Complicated?” I interrupt, the bitterness unmistakable. “That’s not an answer, Dayton.”

Dayton sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it. Levi—he’s always had this darkness to him. Not in the way people throw that word around. It’s not something he’s tried to cultivate. It’s just… in him. It’s in his blood, Kai. He was never meant to be born—at least, not according to the Syndicate. His mother was never supposed to be with his father. Their relationship wasn’t sanctioned by their ‘rules.’ But it happened because they loved each other, and that love? It pissed the Syndicate off. It went against everything they believed in.”

I absorb his words, my mind struggling to reconcile this twisted version of events with the Levi I know. “And you didn’t think to tell me any of this before?”

“You think I haven’t tried? Levi’s been carrying these shadows for as long as I’ve known him. He doesn’t share—not with you, not with me, not with anyone. There are things he’s kept locked up since he was a kid. Because of her.” He looks away, a distant look settling over his features. “Because of his mom.”

His mother. Someone he has never mentioned in the three years we have been together. I have tried to pry for information but am usually greeted with silence or a very quick subject change. I don’t even know the woman’s name.

“What happened to her?”

“Someone cut her brakes. Levi was barely a kid, but he knew. He’s known all along that they did it because they saw him as a threat before he was even old enough to understand what that meant.”

A chill runs through me as I process his words. The Syndicate didn’t just mark Levi as reckless—they branded him as a threat from the start. They killed his mother to try to snuff out that ‘reckless blood.’ And Levi… he’s been living with that ever since, alone in that shadow, bearing a burden none of us could see.

The anger I felt before cooled, replaced by something raw and painful that twists in my chest. I never knew Levi’s silence hid something so deep, so rooted in loss and pain. All the walls, the secrecy—it’s all starting to make a twisted kind of sense.

“This ‘reckless blood’ thing,” I murmur, half to myself. “It’s not just some bullshit insult, is it? They see him as a threat, like he’s some kind of danger to everything they stand for.”

My mind is made up. I am going to go back home and get to the fucking bottom of this. The moment I get back, I am going to grab my keys and drive to see my parents. My dad and uncle have been hiding this for far too long. They have known Levi’s parents since they were younger. They know the secrets that linger within the Syndicate. They have chosen to keep things hidden from me. But why? They know I will be working for them entirely next year. The Syndicate is my future, right? So why hide all of the dirty secrets? Anger sears through me as I think of all the times over the past several months they could have told me the truth about the Syndicate. All the times that Levi could have told me about his secrets.

Why did he keep this from me?

My heart sinks. I just want him back.

We approach the steps, and something on the porch catches my eye.

My heart stutters.

At first, it looks like a pile of clothes. But as we draw closer, the shape becomes clearer—a hunched figure slumped against the railing of the stairs. I stumble forward, dread clawing up my throat as I recognize the face beneath the mess of tangled hair.

It’s Levi.

I break into a run, bounding up the steps, and drop to my knees beside him, feeling the rough wood biting into my skin. His head lolls as I reach out, my hand pressing gently against his bruised, dirt-streaked face.

“Levi?”

Dayton’s breathing quickens. “Oh, hell.”

His hair hangs loose and tangled, half-shielding his eyes, his clothes little more than torn remnants clinging to bruised, raw skin. His bare feet are scraped, bloodied, toes curled against the wood as if he’s trying to grip onto something solid, anything real.

A wet, ragged cough sputters from his lips, and he raises his head, dragging his eyes slowly to mine. They’re glassy and dark, almost too bruised to be familiar, but they are his. They are his.

“Hey, baby,” he rasps, voice rough and weak, cracking as he forces out each syllable. And there, in that moment, the world halts. Finally, I can see his face—his beautiful, damnable face—swollen and blackened. “Miss me?”