Chapter 1
~Kim POV~
"You won't tell me human males are not the hottest male species," Celine said, tilting her head back toward the porter's office like she was leaving a review.
"Focus, Celine."
"I am focused. I'm focused on you know....."
"On getting to our room. Focus on that."
She sighed like I had just told her Christmas was cancelled. "Fair point, big sis."
Our room was small. Two beds, one window that looked out at a wall, and a ceiling fan that made a sound like it was personally offended by its own existence.
We dropped our bags on the beds and I sat down. "We need to make a decision. How do we get mom and dad out of that place?"
Celine did not sit. She never sits when she is thinking. She paced, three steps one way, three steps back, like our tiny room was a strategy room and she was a general. "Same way we always said. We find someone with access to the research room. We get close. We take what we need."
"But how do we even get access? We're freshmen, Celine. Year ones don't walk into research labs."
"Which is exactly why—" she stopped pacing and pulled out her phone, scrolled for two seconds, then stretched it toward me with the energy of someone presenting a trophy "—we are not targeting a random student."
I took the phone.
I did not say anything for a moment.
The boy on the screen was, and I say this as a person who does not get distracted easily, very good looking. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. The kind of face that makes you forget for three seconds that you have a mission.
"Handsome, right?" Celine asked. Then continued without waiting for answer, it was never a question by the way."Yes he is. And while that is absolutely a point in the game, that is not why he is our target."
"Then why?"
"That..." she tapped the screen, "...is the chancellor's son. The school chancellor. And before you get excited about the cute face, he is also a werewolf hunter."
I looked up from the phone. "Celine."
"Kim."
"Are you telling me your plan is to get close to a werewolf hunter? The same kind of people who have our parents locked in a lab right now?"
She held up one finger. "Think about it like this. You want to rob a big shopping mall at night. Mall is closed, security everywhere. Who do you make friends with first?"
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
She grinned. "I'm a genius, right?"
I hated that it made sense.
The plan was simple in theory. Liam, the chancellor's son, was our way in. Year threes had access to the real research rooms. We are... Well in year one. But Liam could get us in before the next full moon and the next full moon was not waiting for anybody.
"There's just one problem," Celine said, dropping onto her bed and staring at the ceiling. "He does not date. Does not keep friends either. Not one. The boy is basically a wall with a face."
"How do you know this?"
She turned her head and looked at me with the patience of someone talking to a slow child. "It's on the school website, Kim. We are students here now. We have access to the website link since the day we got the admission mail. Use your phone."
"They put that kind of thing on the school website?"
"Search his name. Everything comes up. Use. Your. Phone."
I decided not to argue. "So how do we get someone who talks to nobody to talk to us?"
She sat up. Smiled. The kind of smile that meant she had already planned three steps ahead and was just waiting for me to catch up. "We're going to the party tonight."
"What party?"
She stared at me.
"Celine, what party?"
"The freshmen party. Tonight. In the main hall. Kim, it has been on the website link for four days."
"I've been busy worrying about our kidnapped parents—"
"And I've been doing both. Worrying and reading announcements." She stood up and walked to her box, flipped it open and started throwing things around with no regard for order or gravity. "He'll be there tonight. Not as a student, as a watcher. That's what they do, the hunters. They show up at places and maybe also new student events to see if anything interesting walked in."
"Meaning us."
"Meaning us." She pulled something red from the pile and threw it at me. It landed on my lap and I immediately held it up.
It was a dress.
Calling it a dress was generous. It was fabric with ambition.
"Red is your colour, girl."
"Celine this is a top. This is the length of a long top."
"And that is why you're still a virgin."
"That is not—being a virgin is not a problem, actually, keeping your—"
"No lecture today, big sis." She held a tiny dark dress against herself and turned to the wall like it was a mirror. "Aren't I such a beauty. Oppsss.That's Completely off topic, off topic, so off topic." She turned back around. "Now. Let's do your makeup and go make a prince charming trip over his own feet."
"You said he might be gay."
"There's talk."
"Where?"
"The website, Kim. For the one million and first time. Use. Your. Phone."
One hour later we were standing at the entrance of the largest hall I had ever walked into, music hitting us in the chest before we even got through the door, bodies everywhere, lights moving, people screaming over the sound of a song that had too much bass and not enough lyrics.
Celine's eyes lit up like someone had plugged her in.
"This is my jam." She turned to me with a look that I already did not trust. "I'm going to find us drinks and locate our target. Two things at once. Efficiency."
"We can't drink, Celine."
"I know that. I'm pulling your leg. Let me just walk around a bit, see where we can position ourselves." She was already moving as she said it, already half-swallowed by the crowd.
"Celine. Celine, come back here. Don't you dare—" But she was gone, just her shadow disappearing between shoulders and arms and noise.
I stood there.
Alone.
In a hall full of strangers.
At a university where somewhere, in some building on this same campus, people who looked like us were being studied like animals.
I turned around to look for somewhere quieter to wait, somewhere I could see the door, somewhere I could breathe, and I walked directly into a wall.
Except the wall was warm.
And the wall had arms.
I stumbled back and looked up and standing in front of me was a boy, tall, broad, looking down at me with an expression that was not concern. Not even slightly.
"Hot body," he said, looking at me the way you look at something you've decided you want before you even ask the price. "Nice skin too. Want to get drinks with me?"
I looked at him fully. He had a sharp face under all those scars, more scars than I had years on this earth, and he was smiling the kind of smile that had never heard the word no.
"I'm sorry," I said. Politely. Calmly. While every part of me was saying something very different. "I can't."
"Can't, or won't?" He took one step closer. "Nobody gets hurt. Just you, me, one drink. Easy."
His hand moved toward my arm.
I pushed it back. Gently. Firmly. The way you push something away when you are trying not to cause a scene.
He looked at my hand like I had just done something remarkable.
Then he smiled wider.
Then he snapped his fingers.
And just like that, three more of them appeared from the crowd, same energy, same expression, circling slowly, and the music kept playing like nothing was happening, like I was not standing in the middle of a closing ring with no Celine in sight and no exit behind me.
My heart was loud.
My face was still.
And somewhere in this building was a chancellor's son who hated people like me. Or are these his people and they already found out who I am?
