Page 58 of Dig Your Grave

That night, as I drifted in and out of restless sleep in my dorm, a text from Sophie buzzed me awake:

“We require your presence at the Edenvane Mansion tomorrow, 8 p.m.The Dean’s gala.Dress appropriately.”

My blood chilled.The Dean’s gala was a high-profile event.The place would be crawling with donors, wealthy alumni, and possibly unsuspecting guests.For the Skulls to call us there meant a high-stakes show.

I texted Anubis.He replied immediately:

“Got the same invite.We’ll meet there.”

I sank onto my pillow, dread twisting my stomach.A final fleeting thought drifted through my mind as sleep claimed me again:Could this gala be the beginning of the end?A confrontation that decides our fate?

Because we had only a few more steps left in this dark dance and we weren’t the only ones orchestrating it.

I stood in front of the tall, antique mirror in my dorm room, slipping on a sleek black dress that seemed too formal for a college event but perfect for a society gala.The email from the Dean’s office described it as a philanthropic soirée, celebrating new campus expansions.But Anubis and I both knew it was a power move by the Skulls.

Brushing my hands over the fabric, I winced when the material grazed my still-tender brand.The Mark of the Crescent sat high on my left shoulder, a small scab along its curved edges.I tried not to look at it too often because each glimpse brought a surge of conflicting emotion: fury, fear, and a strange sense of grim resolve.Being branded alongside Anubis meant we were, at least officially, bound to the Skulls.

A jolt of nerves twisted my stomach as I remembered the night they pressed that hot metal to our skin.Sophie watched with sadistic satisfaction.The memory fueled my determination not to let them win.

I exhaled shakily.Focus, Suede.You have a role to play tonight.

My phone buzzed on the dresser: a text from Kate, the brash Howler staffer who was also part of the secret group calling themselves the Undercurrent.

Kate:

“One of our watchers saw a black SUV arrive at the campus loading dock.Men in suits carrying sealed crates.We suspect it’s equipment for the Dean’s event.Keep your eyes open.”

Sealed crates for a gala?My pulse kicked higher.What exactly is the Dean bringing in?The Skulls had orchestrated everything from library sabotage to blocking a professor’s honest research.A few crates might be innocuous.Or they might hide something more sinister.

I typed back quickly:

“Understood.I’ll do what I can.Thank you.”

Before I could slip my phone into my clutch, it chimed again: Anubis this time.

Anubis:

“I’m outside.Ready when you are.”

I forced a small smile.“Always the gentleman,” I murmured, retrieving a gauzy shawl to drape over my shoulders and hide the brand.Then I flicked off the lights and headed into the hall.Students milled around, some heading to house parties, others to the library or group study sessions.I felt like a ghost among them, living a separate reality.

Downstairs, I spotted Anubis leaning against the wall in a charcoal-gray suit, no tie, collar open at the throat.Even with tension etched in his features, he looked devastatingly handsome.That same tension echoed in my own chest: no matter how terrifying this path was, I was grateful not to walk it alone.

“You look stunning,” he said softly, eyes tracing over my dress.“Though I hate that we’re going to this…performance.”

I managed a shaky smile, stepping closer so no one else would hear our low voices.“We’ve handled everything else.This gala is just another challenge.”

He offered his arm in an old-fashioned gesture, and I linked mine with it, feeling his warmth through the jacket.“We’ll manage,” he agreed.“Let’s see what skeletons the Skulls drag out tonight.”

Skeletons indeed,I thought, recalling Toccara, that fateful night by the river, the conspirators who might be lurking around the gala.Kate’s cryptic note about the crates.My possible link to the Edenvane bloodline.Everything was converging.

This Edenvane Mansion, one of many, was the ancestral home turned administrative showpiece, glowed with a golden radiance under a star-scattered sky.Its sweeping driveway, lined with manicured hedges, was crowded with sleek cars and even a few limousines.Tall pillars supported an ornate entranceway, and clusters of well-dressed guests chatted under the bright floodlights.

Anubis parked his Porsche near the far edge of the circular drive.We both took a moment to steel ourselves.“Ready?”he asked, quiet tension in his voice.

“As I’ll ever be.”

We climbed out, stepping into the swirl of half-familiar faces: wealthy donors, administrators, sorority and fraternity elites.A few recognized Anubis immediately, greeting him with polite smiles or shoulder claps.I received cursory nods, though some stares lingered on my hair (still tinted faintly green at the tips, a rebellious leftover from weeks ago) and my no-name gown.

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