Page 66

SANJANA

I managed to get a decent chunk of work done. Cloe was killing it beside me with perfect posture and unwavering focus. I set Ari’s tablet aside, unable to stare at the screen any longer, and fished my phone from my bag to check what I’d missed, expecting a couple of missed texts.

What I got instead was more chaos.

She paused mid-keystroke, shut her laptop without a word, and moved to sit beside me. “Let’s see it.”

I opened up the thread.

1031

So many eyes.

So many lies.

Hope you’re faster than the others when it all comes out.

I stared, frowning. Faster than the others?

What the hell did that mean? The urge to text back was powerful.

I shoved it down. Antagonizing the Huntsmen or feeding into their taunts before the Hunt even started didn’t seem like the strategy that would keep me from losing.

The texting dots danced across the screen now that they could see I had read the previous one.

1031

You've been studying so hard.

When you're done, how about you and your friend give me a smile?

A chill slid down my spine. “Are we being watched right now?”

We both began to look around. A few scattered students were hunched over books and laptops. One guy in a far corner was dozing off. A girl across the room was deep into a novel, earbuds in. No one was actively looking at us, but someone had been.

“Are you scared?” Cloe asked quietly.

“No. Not yet. I’m freaked out in a different way, though.”

She pulled out her phone, hit a few keys, and then held it out to me. “Look. I got this when we stopped at the snack stand earlier.”

The message she showed me was from a number I didn’t recognize, but similar in tone.

1125

Ever wonder what else I know?

Keep your guard up.

“What else do they know? Did they say something before now?”

“I deleted it. Can’t even remember what it said.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal and didn’t elaborate.

“Sometimes the things they say seem a little too personal.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “We already expected the texts to reach all of us. Separately. Together. It doesn’t matter. They’re watching.”

“I know. Ari said as much.” I rubbed a kink from my neck. “The Hunt hasn’t even started yet, and if this is the buildup, what the hell is the main event going to be like?”

“What did Ari call it? A test of mental fortitude?”

I let out a dry laugh, quickly sobering. “Speaking of. There was a guy upstairs.”

I told her everything. The way he spoke and how he mentioned her and Roxxi by name, going on to explain the day Kellan and I got the first Hunt notification from Crowsfell.

Her expression shifted from concern to clinical. “You’re sure it was him?”

“He said it was, but I have no way of knowing for certain. I never saw the person’s face.”

She was silent for a beat. “Okay. We tell Ari. Roxxi too. Then we take the guys up on that offer. Next week, we won’t go anywhere alone. Even if that means sticking with another Marked from a class. There are enough of us that we should at least have one or two taking a course we do.”

She wasn’t going to get an argument from me about this. I glanced at my phone again and saw the time.

“Shit,” I cursed, already reaching for Ari’s iPad to slip into its carrier. “We’re late. Or I am.”

She started gathering her things without question. I slung my satchel high on my shoulder, and we made our way to the exit, firing off a text to Roxxi just as she sent one to me.

Roxxi

Get your ass moving.

Leaving the library now with Cici. Be there soon.

The heavy oak doors groaned as we pushed through them, too loud for the sudden quiet outside. The corridor stretched long and mostly empty. I picked up my pace, and so did Cloe. When my phone went off again, vibrating since it was still on silent, I expected it to be Roxxi.

One glance at the screen showed otherwise.

1031

Keep running late.

I might catch up to you.

My pulse jumped. “Cici…” I angled the phone for her to see the text. Her steps faltered beside me.

“Where the hell are they watching from?”

Another buzz.

1031

Why are you just standing there?

We both slowly looked around.

“It’s got to be someone up high. They could be in any one of the other academic wings that have a clear view of where we are.”

She bobbed her head once in agreement. “Let’s keep moving.”

We weren’t running yet, but our steps came faster.

Once we made it outside, the sunlight felt too bright for how I felt.

The rumble of drums and the brassy swell of the marching band carried from wherever they were practicing.

We cut across the grass, taking the fastest route possible toward The Pit. When it came into view, I didn’t slow.

“Be right there,” I called to Roxxi, not sparing a glance toward the field’s edge, where I could feel stares like invisible hands at my back.

I tugged Ari’s tablet bag from my satchel and passed it to Cloe. “Can you hold onto this?”

She took it without hesitation, eyes scanning my face. “Do you want me to walk you the rest of the way?”

I hesitated before shaking my head. “Not today.”

Her frown was slight, but I caught it. “Go ahead. I’ll watch from back here and fake text until you’re inside. We don’t want to let these parasites think they rattled us.”

I flashed a quick smile and kept walking.

Dennis, our ever-dedicated mascot, was trudging toward the men’s locker room in full crow regalia: black feathers, oversized beak, and all.

He was probably coming from band coordination, preparing whatever routine the Crow would be doing at the next game.

I lifted a hand in greeting as I passed.

He paused and stared from behind the giant crow head.

Not exactly unusual. Dennis was quirky. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, but he was the last person I expected to choose mascot duty while excelling in forensic anthropology.

I reached the locker room and slipped inside.

I went straight to my locker, dropping my bag onto the bench with a dull thud.

I spun my combination lock and pulled the door open—then froze.

A slip of cream-colored paper, slightly crinkled, was taped to the inside. It was just like the ones Cloe and at least a dozen others received. I had wondered if I would be getting another since one apparently wasn’t enough. I held the locker door and read it.

You aren’t just another player.

You’re the prize.

The one we all want to catch.

So lock your doors.

Cling to the people who swear they’ll protect you.

Scream if it makes you feel better.

It won’t change a thing.

We’re going to see how pretty you bleed.

XOXO—your favorite stalker.

I stood there in the silence, the words crawling like static across my skin.

I closed my eyes and counted as I breathed.

This was far less invasive than the Polaroid had been.

Stuffing creepy notes in lockers and getting around the combination lock?

That was a high school-level prank at most. I exhaled, opened my eyes, and snatched the note off with more force than necessary, stuffing it into my cheer bag.

Out of sight.

Out of mind.

I could deal with it later. I didn’t have time or the mental bandwidth for any breakdowns, and these assholes didn’t deserve the pleasure of one.

I hurried through changing into my practice uniform, tugging off my clothes and slipping into the familiar black-and-silver cheer gear, opting for shorts instead of the skirt tonight.

My boots were the last to go, exchanged with my dependable cheer shoes with the soles broken in from a hundred routines.

Once I was dressed, I dug through my bag again, rummaging for the hair tie I was sure I’d packed this morning.

A toilet flushed, giving me a pause for the second time.

“Who’s in here?” My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. Not wanting to sound totally freaked, I added quickly, “We’re late.”

There was the unmistakable clink of a stall door being unlocked. A second or so later, Brittany stepped from around the corner. “Sorry if I scared you,” she apologized with a small, sheepish smile.

“It’s fine.” I was more concerned with what I saw. Her blonde curls were slightly damp at the ends, one arm cradled her stomach, and her face was a few shades paler than usual.

“Are you okay?”

She grimaced. “I ate sugar-free gummy bears at lunch without thinking. I have no gallbladder. You do the math.”

“Oh, that’s brutal,” I replied sympathetically.

“Think Roxxi will let me sit out tonight? I can’t tumble.” She rubbed her stomach like even saying the word triggered a cramp.

“She’s not an overlord, Britt. You’re in no position to run any routines.”

She gave me a flat, skeptical look. I couldn’t help laughing a little.

“I’ll talk to her for you. Do you have an extra hair tie I can borrow before we head out? Mine’s apparently gone AWOL.”

“Yeah, hang on.” She turned to her locker and popped it open, digging through a pile of half-folded uniforms and a hoodie that had seen better days. She finally pulled out a fresh elastic from a package of them and tossed it my way.

I caught it, thanking her.

“What do you think about being Marked this year?”

I shrugged, careful to keep my voice neutral. “Not remotely ecstatic, but it’s all about Crowsfell tradition, right? There isn’t anything I can do about it.”

A loud, violent slam echoed through the room. Sharp enough to rattle the surrounding lockers.

We both flinched hard.

The lights flickered overhead, shutting on and off as if someone was playing with the switch.

“Oh, hell no.”

“Time to get the fuck out of here,” Britt declared sharply, right beside me.

We barely made it three steps before we were plunged into darkness, and a voice rang out. It was distorted. Warped into something that sounded like a kid’s toy melted in a microwave, cartoonish and wrong.

“Two little cheerleaders alone in the dark. Which one should bleed first?”

My heart shot into my throat.