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)
I had just twisted it open when the window shattered.
Glass exploded across the tiled floor, shards skittering in every direction. I dropped my facial cream and screamed, ducking instinctively, knees nearly giving out as I slipped.
My first thought: it wasn’t gunfire.
My second: why the fuck did I think our house was being shot up?
There was no echo, no popping sound, but the panic was already pulsing through my veins. I caught myself against the sink, eyes wide as I turned toward the broken window. Something round had landed in the mess of broken glass. The bathroom door burst open before I could move toward it, flimsy lock be damned.
“Sanj!” Roxxi barreled inside, brandishing our biggest kitchen knife in one hand and a pair of her brass knuckles in the other. Her eyes swept the room, and behind her, Arianna stumbled in with a fucking saucepan. Cloe was next, gripping the Cedar broom like a javelin.
Bringing up the rear, Layla stood at the doorway, no weapon in hand, just a death grip on the doorframe and a look of pure horror as she stared at the floor. I followed her gaze, my breath catching as I finally realized what I’d been looking at before they busted in. A round, decent-sized rock rested in the center of the bathroom. Attached to it with a long silver ribbon was a dead crow—feathers ruffled, wings bent at odd angles. A crisp parchment colored note was attached to the other end of curled silk.
Roxxi stepped carefully through the glass and bent to retrieve the note, doing her best not to touch the bird too much. Her expression turned murderous as her eyes scanned the paper. “The Hunt,” she seethed. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
“What does it say?” Layla asked.
Roxxi didn’t answer her. Instead, she offered it to me to read. I clutched the towel tighter and took it from her.
“Secrets bleed in the dark.
We can’t wait to spill yours.
The Hunt is an honor,
This time, all of you are ours.”
“Have you just been officially Marked?” Layla asked in disbelief.
I swallowed and gave a small nod. I had called it while walking home earlier, and in the truck with Ryder, but having confirmation was entirely something else. And what the hell was up with their sick method of delivery? The car had been indicating enough.
“Wait,” Roxxi held out her hand, and I gave the note to her again. “All of you?” She re-read the line, her brows pulling together.
Arianna stepped closer and took a look. “It’s not just you, Sanj.”
“What do you mean?” Layla asked, her voice elevating.
“Their choice of words,” Cloe explained. “All of you wouldn’t be Sanj alone. Ours. That’s plural too. It’s implying there are multiple Huntsmen. Whoever did this, they weren’t aiming for only one of us.”
“There are supposed to be rules.” Layla stared down at the crow. “They can’t be allowed to throw a dead bird through a window.”
“Our secret admirer, or admirers, apparently disagree,” Roxxi quipped, eyes still narrowed on the note like she wanted to tear the people responsible in half.
“But how did they know anyone was in here?” Layla questioned.
Arianna turned her head toward the window, frowning thoughtfully. “The lights, possibly,” she motioned to the ceiling and fixture above the mirror. “That window faces the front of the house. Anyone could see it from the street.”
“Then why not throw the rock through one of the living room windows?”
No one had an answer to that.
A cold ripple slid down my spine. Roxxi turned toward me, her expression shifting, the anger dimming enough to let concern peek through. She reached out. “Come on, Sanj. Let’s get you out of here.”
I took her hand, letting her guide me away from the broken glass, her arm winding protectively around my shoulders like a shield. My heart still thundered, my legs barely steady as I stepped back into my bedroom.
“Why do they want to mess with us now?”
“To be honest, this could have happened last year as well. Being a freshman gave us immunity.”
I hadn’t considered that. I sat down on the ottoman at the foot of my bed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
“Isn’t it kind of ironic?” Layla pondered, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “Everyone sees you as untouchable or something. Now the it girls have been Marked.”
Roxxi stopped where she’d taken up pacing, turning on her heel like a switch had been flipped. “It girls? Who the fuck still talks like that?”
Layla raised her hands slightly. “Hey, it was just a joke. You guys are kinda rich and popular, you know?”
“Right. So, what’s the joke? Us having money or us being more well-liked than you?”
“Rox,” I tried.
“Don’t Rox me. You guys know she’s always making slick ass comments, and I always let it go, but can she not read a room?”