Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
“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.