Poison Throne: A Dark College Romance(11)

"Lunch time," a voice called, and the images faded from the display in front of me. It was almost immersive, the screen experience here, so I got the double benefit of feeling like I was right in the midst of the murder and mayhem. The only step closer would be if I could smell the death rather than just see it.

Caine unlocked my wrist cuffs, and I massaged the skin there as I shakily got to my feet. After a few more weeks of this, I had a scary suspicion that I'd be lost in their propaganda world, unable to tell one reality from another.

Just as he was leading me toward the small area I was allowed to eat in, there was a buzzing on his palm reader. Mine had been gone since I was imprisoned, and every single time I saw one on someone, I longed to contact Mattie or Nolan, to hear their voices and find out who had survived that night.

They both better have.

And Rafe's dad. My heart ached at my last memory of him, unconscious and covered in blood. His injuries hadn't looked good. Hopefully those medics were really fucking spectacular at their jobs.

"There's been a change in plans," Caine said abruptly. "Lunch has to wait. Uriel needs you now."

Rafe's warning from this morning flashed in my mind, blaring red because he'd been dead serious. I couldn't go with Uriel, no matter what happened.

"I need to go back to my room first."

I ground to a halt, and Caine took a few more steps before stopping and turning back to me. "What do you mean? I'm to take you to the meeting stadium. There will be a few thousand of us gathering there to plan our next attack."

Caine clearly thought that I was all on board the royals-must-die train.

"I—I just got my period and need a tampon."

He froze. Apparently anything else he had been prepared to argue over, but the thought of me bleeding through my pants had him hesitating. "I have to be there to head up Uriel's protective detail," he kind of muttered.

Reaching out, I placed my hand on his forearm. "Look, I know my way around now. I can run back to my place and then get to the stadium before it starts. You don't have to come with me. That way you can do your job."

His eyes bored into my soul as he tried to ferret out any deception, but he'd never find it. I’d been trained by Uriel himself. Up close and very personal.

"Yes, okay. But don't worry about getting back. I'll send a car for you. It's not that close." That was his compromise to ensure I didn’t run.

"Yep, great!"

As long as it wasn't Uriel, I'd have no problems taking the driver out, and then I'd have a vehicle to utilize.

"Do not go anywhere but back to your apartment," Caine warned me.

I kept my face neutral. "You have my word. I'm interested to see what this meeting is all about. I don't want to miss any of it."

Caine nodded. "Okay, then run."

I patted his shoulder as I sprinted past, not bothering to look back. Just the thought that something was finally happening was all I needed to run like my life depended on it.





Chapter 10





After weeks of torture and “reprogramming” without exercise, I was decently out of shape. So I was a little out of breath by the time I got back to my room. Rushing inside, I changed into clothes that were dark, easy to move and fight in, and would keep me warm. I had no idea what the rest of this day would bring, but as long as I was out of this shithole and away from Uriel, I could deal with almost anything else.

There was a knock at the door just as I finished fixing my braid.

The driver was here.

Crossing over as silently as I could with shoes on, I slowly opened the door, smile in place to lull them into a sense of security. No one ever expected women to just attack them without provocation.

"Are you ready to leave, miss—"

A sucker punch to the mouth shut him up. As he lurched back, I hit him again, this time across the temple, and he went limp. I grabbed onto him before he hit the ground and gave us away, hoping I’d hit him hard enough to buy me at least half an hour.

Dragging him back inside, I turned him on his side so he didn't choke on vomit or anything. Sometimes the knockout blow would mess with them in other ways. As an after-thought, though, I tied his hands and feet in case he woke up early.

When I was done, I gave myself a few seconds to check I had everything in place, removed the weapon from the driver—it was only a baton, but I could do some damage with that—and then left the place, hopefully never to see it again. Screw waiting around like a damsel in distress. I saw my opportunity for escape and I was taking it.

Just as I stepped onto the main street, where the black town car idled at the curb, a distant explosion lit up the sky and echoed a boom. I wasn't close enough to feel any effects, but on instinct I hit the ground, just in case anything came flying this way.

Chaos ensued. Screams, sirens, shouts, gunfire, helicopters. You name the fucking noise, and it was happening in a cacophony of stimuli. No one seemed to notice me standing near the front entrance to my building, and since this was clearly the event Rafe had been talking about, it was time to act now.

Only problem was I had no idea where to go. Rafe knew full well I wouldn’t stay put like a princess in a tower, so he should have given me a better plan. One day soon my prickly prince and I would have a long conversation about his attitude, and hopefully, things would change after that.

We just all had to survive to have that chat.

Deciding that getting away from my apartment was step one—if Uriel survived, he would come straight for me there. Sure, it’d make it harder for Rafe to find me, but that was preferable to Uriel finding me. Logically, I should have just gotten into the idling car and waited for Rafe there. But a reckless, impulsive part of me was itching to get to Jordan. So, I moved along the path, keeping my head down. The baton I'd stolen was in a loop on my belt, not hidden but also not in my hands.

A decision I greatly regretted when someone slammed into me, knocking me off my feet and into a shop front. It was glass, and the way it cracked under my shoulder told me I was about to go through it. I dropped to the sidewalk and rolled, ignoring the small scrapes from the rough ground below, needing to get away from my assailant.

Heavy hands lifted me, and Brandon's face came into view. No mask this time, so his hatred was on display clear as anything. "Told you I'd see you again, you piece of shit."

Not even remotely distracted by his threat, I allowed my mind to sink into robot mode, and in two hard strikes, I had crushed both of his hands, forcing him to drop me. I landed gracefully while he snarled and bellowed.

"If you think I'm leaving you alive this time, you're mistaken," I said, striking him again, this time right in the sternum.

He gasped, his face going red, and in desperation he charged at me. I sidestepped, but he threw an arm out, sending us both through the glass window I'd been hoping to avoid.

Thankfully, I managed to turn enough that he went down first. I didn’t escape unharmed, the glass slicing my clothing in several places, but I was pretty sure it missed all the important parts—everything still moved as I lifted my body to swing my elbow into Brandon's face. His jaw cracked under my hit, and he howled in pain, even as his hands were scrambling on the ground trying to find some glass to cut me with.

"Violet!"

Rafe's shout distracted me, and I nearly ended up with a cut carotid. Luckily, I was still eighty percent focused, and that was enough to avoid Brandon's strike. I rolled off him, getting plenty more cuts in the process. Rafe stormed over the threshold, his boots crunching in all the glass, but I didn't give him the chance to play hero this time.

In one quick movement, I slammed my boot into Brandon's temple, and when he stopped moving, I snapped his neck with a sharp kick. It took me about three seconds to end the life of someone who had tormented and almost killed me.

Rafe remained where he was, glittering eyes staring into my soul. "Stop it," I said roughly, trying to compartmentalize the fact that I'd just killed someone. Even if he’d deserved it.

Some days, I was exactly the person Uriel had trained me to be.

A fact that should scare everyone.

"Come on," he said, dismissing the lifeless body of Brandon Shithead Morgan at our feet, "we need to get out of here before things get violent."

I arched a brow at him, and he gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"More violent," he amended. "The core Society wants to clean house. This camp will run red before the day is over."

"We need to get Jordan out," I told him, already racing in the direction of the prison cells. I had to just cross my fingers and hope that he'd still be there. Rafe didn't argue, following close behind me and ruthlessly helping me dispatch the guards we found on the cell block.

I was no slouch on my own, but with Rafe at my side, we were unstoppable. Moments later, we had taken out all the guards in the area and I'd lifted the access cards and keys from one of the unconscious men.

Unconscious or dead. I didn't stop to check his pulse.

"This way," I told Rafe, leading him back through the corridors to where I'd found Jordan previously. The other prisoners were in an uproar, banging on their doors and hollering at us to let them out. I wanted to unlock every single door in there, but Jordan was my priority. I'd never forgive myself if we lost him because we wasted time letting strangers out of their cells.

Jordan's cell was silent, and a chill of dread ran through me, making my hands shake as I tried to find the right key.