Page 31 of Snake

Nim

I’m aware I’m being followed when I hear a second set of footsteps ringing out on the wooden floor behind me as I take a shortcut through one of the admin hallways on my way to the cafeteria. Romi’s already inside, waiting for me to join her for dinner. I was doing some homework in one of the study halls, thinking it would be safer than using the library because that’s Silas’s stomping grounds...but now I’m regretting that decision.

I swing my head around, but there’s no one behind me.

What the hell? I know I didn’t imagine those footfalls. I scan a display rack full of trophies. Someone could have slipped into the shadows beside it.

The hair on my arms stands up, and I rub my hands over my skin as I turn and start walking.

My scream is cut short when something soft slips over my head and a hand clamps down on my mouth. I try to bite those fingers, but there’s fabric in the way so I can’t get a grip. A belt is jammed between my lips and tightened around my head.I lash out with my hands, but someone catches my wrists and binds them with a rope.

Kicking and struggling do no good, because I’m hauled into the air a moment later, my hands locked together. Air leaves my lungs in a painful whoosh as I fold over someone’s shoulder.

No, not someone.

Mason.

The way he grabs my ass, as if to keep me steady when he’s really just copping a feel, is as familiar as it is annoying. I go limp because, by now, I’ve learned when to reserve my strength.

The Serpents are quiet as they move through the halls. I hear the voices of students nearby, but Mason veers away from them, or waits for them to fade away before moving again.

Where the hell are they taking me? Images stream through my head, each more terrifying than the last.

The polo stables.

The abandoned frat house.

The dead island by Hart Falls.

I’m struggling again, and I can’t seem to stop. Mason lands a solid blow on my ass, and I scream at him through my gag, even though I know he can’t understand what I’m saying. Probably for the best—it’d turn his hair gray if he heard what I was calling him.

When we go downstairs—a lot of them—I decide it’s about time to panic.

“Christ, keep still,” Mason mutters as I thrash around on his shoulder. He lands another blow on my rump, this one hard enough to leave me breathless as I try to deal with the pain.

Keep still? Oh, sure. I’ll go quietly and willingly to whatever torture chamber awaits. As soon as my ass isn’t stinging like hell anymore, I carry on struggling.

“We’re almost there,” Knox says in his calm voice. I almost think he’s trying to soothe me, but when Mason lets out a harrumph, I realize Knox was talking to him.

I’d been smelling a whole lot of Mason up until now—his cologne, a touch of sweat, that underlying manly scent that was all him—but something new comes through the hood.

Dust.

It’s darker now, too.

And so fucking quiet.

Where the hell am I? And what the hell are they planning? Is this about the chocolates? Oh my God, why didn’t I just eat their goddamn chocolates?

A creaky door opens and closes. There’s a bloom of light, a flicker. Mason tosses me down on something soft and springy like I’m a bag of fucking potatoes. I gasp as I bounce, struggling for breath when that makes me land on my face. Thankfully, someone turns me over.

If anyone else had kidnapped me, I would have seen it as an act of mercy. But with the Serpents, I should probably have wished for death by suffocation instead.

As soon as I’m on my back, I struggle into a sit, my stomach muscles working overtime to get me there. I wriggle furiously, my ankles finding the edge of whatever I’m sitting on and hooking in so I can haul myself along on my ass.

All in vain.

Someone yanks the belt off my head, and, a second later, the hood. Which turns out to be a pillowcase, not that I really care right now. Although I’m kind of glad it’s not some kind of produce sack. I blink up at the Serpents, and then take a quick scan around to orientate myself.

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