Page 79 of They're Watching You

But Gavin’s gaze fastens to mine, that cavalier quality from a moment ago replaced with concern.

“The finale will take place all over campus,” he adds once the chatter has subsided. “In order to save yourself, you must be the first to retrieve the final game piece. Anything goes, obviously.” He runs a hand through already disheveled hair and mumbles, “Not that our lovebirds would resort toanything.”

Or maybe it’s hurt, that look in his eyes.

Mentally, I run through Gavin’s last rules. What would save one of us while killing the other? Is he going to strap one of his explosive devices to us and make us fight for the code to disarm it? I rack my brain, my gaze sliding over the black cloaks, the faces, the hors d’oeuvres and glass goblets.

“The instrument of death is already working,” he says, the arrogance slipping from his voice. “Already in your system.”

A trickle of ice moves from my fingertips up to my neck.The wine.

My gaze snaps to the glass shards glimmering over the stone floor. The second we let our guards down, believing they needed us healthy in order to compete, they slipped something into our drinks.

I peek at Remington, whose face is ashen, jaw fixed. Suddenly, his elbow cocks back. He launches the goblet, which flies at full speed. Its base grazes Gavin’s head.

Gavin simply smiles like the delinquent he is, wiping a drop of red wine off of his neck. Unperturbed, he continues. “You will compete for the antidote. There is only one dose, so sharing isn’t an option. In roughly an hour, you will feel and act merely drunk. Not long after, disorientation will set in, along with confusion. At the two-hour mark, the hallucinations will begin—visual and auditory. And then, well, basically it’s all downhill from there. Seizures, psychosis, respiratory failure. I think it’s safe to say you’ll want to finish the task before the two-hour mark. Let’s see,” he says, pushing up his cloak sleeve to glance at his watch. “One a.m. Ultimately, it will be your bodies that decide how much time is left. Oh, and don’t bother with the messy business of disgorging. Your blood has already had plenty of time to absorb the toxins. The guards posted along the gates have been instructed to bring you back to us if you try to escape. Even if you could get to a hospital in time, they won’t have the antidote. Dr. Theodore Lowell engineered this plant, which only exists on our campus. A deadly nightshade hybrid he liked to callAtropa divinus. You might call itbelladonna’sfaster-acting cousin. Dr. Yamashiro and I created its antidote ourselves.”

I kneel down, grasping a stray shard of glass. “I don’t believe you. How do we know you’re not playing another trick on us?”

“You only have to look at Remington’s eyes,” Gavin says solemnly.

I turn to find Remington squinting at the piece of glass in my hand, which digs sharply into my palm. He looks up, and I startle. Because his pupils have expanded to blot out nearly all the brown of his irises.

“It’s the atropine,” Gavin says. “You may experience some blurred vision and light sensitivity. I apologize for that.”

“Light sensitivity?” Remington growls. “I think it’s the psychosis and death you should be apologizing for!”

“Well, you won’t die right away,” Annabelle says, brushing past me to join Gavin at the front. “Whoever of you doesn’t win the antidote will simply be rendered useless, at which point we’ll be able to conduct the ceremonial ritual.” My stomach flips. I think the light-headedness and shortness of breath may have already started, or it could be the nerves. “But you don’t want to waste all your time chatting.” She chuckles. “Come, champions. Join me so your society can send you off properly. Whether from here or afar, be assured. The brethren will be watching tonight.”

Watching. Riveted on their chaises while we decide who lives and who dies. I tread through the crowd, taking no pains to avoid knocking elbows on my way to the front. An acute pain in my hand reminds me I’m still gripping the shard of glass, and everything in me begs to take a swipe at Gavin’s face with it.

A hand tugs on my forearm, and when I sling a withering glare at the offender, Jordan’s made-up, glossy eyes lock on to mine. “Maren,” she whispers, but I twist from her grasp before she can give herself away.

“Do it now,” I mouth before striding the rest of the way, Remington in tow.

Gavin is a monster. Either we find someone on the outside to stop this, or one of us dies. Waiting is no longer an option. I only hope Jordan comes through.

I wait for Gavin’s next words, a sense of utter helplessness coiling itself around my limbs. Despite my act of rebellion, there can only be one victor.

Remington or me.

There’s no way to win this game.

Thirty-One

“Champions,” Gavin says in his officiant’s voice. “I’ll be needing your phones.” Casually, he motions to the display. When Remington and I make no effort to obey, Gavin’s shoulders droop. “We can’t start the game until I have those phones,” he pouts. “You don’t want to sit around and die in here, do you? That’s so boring.”

I sigh through my teeth and dig the phone from my pocket, sliding it across the display. Once Remington has done the same, Gavin grins and produces two pocket flashlights. “You may use these as light sources. And one more thing. I’ve been informed someone may have an advantage in tonight’s finale. If that’s the case, you must play it now.”

That familiar dread creeps up my back. I peek at Remington, who tugs the red ribbon from his pocket without hesitation. He marches up to the front of the chamber.

This is how it’s going to be. He’s given up on any hope of working with me. I’m on my own.

Remington dangles the ribbon in front of Gavin, who scrutinizes it as if inspecting the strip of shiny fabric for authenticity. Apparently satisfied, Gavin digs into his robe to remove a small scroll. “Use this whenever you like.”

Remington takes it, hand hovering in midair for a moment. His knuckles glow white in the torchlight as his fist tightens around the scroll. Tiny pitter-pattering steps quicken in my chest. He’s going to destroy it. Another show of defiance—another demonstration of our unity.

But he tucks it away inside his robe, and the light steps slow to a deadening halt.

---