Page 11 of Beautiful Venom

Sure, no one knows when and where Vencor’s initiations take place since, according to rumors, they change them up to keep the mysterious factor going.

But Kane is in the inner circle. The Senior level is the highest rank attainable for all members except for Founders. I have no clue what type of trials they must go through or how many souls they have to sell to the Devil to get there, but I suspect their own soul isn’t enough.

I frown at my picture with Kane on my phone. I posted it on social media the other day and tagged him, but all I got was a like. That’s all. No DM or further acknowledgment of my existence.

Nothing.

I’m supposed to be studying, but I find myself staring at the selfie.

Again.

Kane’s expression is calmer than a starless night and just as deep. I can’t imagine him selling his soul, to be honest. He genuinely listens and lacks Preston’s shadiness and Jude’s brutality.

He can be relentless during a game if need be, but I’ve never seen Kane be aggressive. Whether on or off the ice.

I zoom in on his hand, where the ring shows. He’s still a Vencor, a Senior Vencor. For some reason, I seem to gloss over that detail whenever I think about Kane.

Which I’ve done constantly since our last encounter.

Vencor or not, I don’t believe he’s the type who dishes out empty promises.

But why hasn’t he gotten in contact since then? He’s kind of untouchable on campus, so I can’t exactly walk up to him like we’re acquaintances. We study in completely different fields in buildings that are on opposite ends of campus anyway. Him, business. Me, pre-med. So it would be hard to pop in there and pretend it’s a coincidence.

Besides, would that be a smart thing to do? Initiating a public meeting? The other time, he made sure his teammates were out of earshot before he talked to me. I assume he doesn’t want our deal to be exposed.

“Kane Davenport. You ain’t playing about your crush.”

My head whips up. I was so focused and lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Megan getting close to my desk.

I fumble to flip the phone over. “He’s not my crush.”

Megan is my roommate in GU’s dorms and is here on a scholarship like me, so at least there’s not much societal difference between us. But lucky for her, she comes from a happy family and I often see her at the local cafés with her parents or siblings.

I keep to myself and she keeps to herself. She did try to befriend me in the beginning since she’s a real extrovert, but after she witnessed me studying like a dog to earn the grades needed for my scholarship, she kind of retreated and decided to spend more time with her friends in the social sciences department.

Megan is a redhead with dark skin and a striking fashion style. She’s rocking a red, white, and green kimono-style dress with slits in the skirt and glimmering chains for straps for one of her nights out.

“Girl, you were staring at that man like he was a snack.” Megan checks herself in the full-length mirror near the entrance of our room.

“I was not.”

“Uh-huh.” She takes a few selfies in the mirror.

Her side of the room is full of colorful clothes piled on the bed from when she was picking her outfit. Some purses have fallen on the floor, but her desk is spotless, all her social science books neatly displayed like they’re actual treasures.

My side is minimalist at best with my med books and laptop. However, my bedside table is covered with haphazard college hockey magazines that I’ve been studying more seriously than my school projects.

My three pairs of white sneakers are lined up by my side of the closet, while Megan’s are full of all types and colors of shoes.

“And here I was wondering about your recent obsession with hockey. Gotta say, you have expensive tastes. You couldn’t go for a lower-grade peasant from the team?”

I spin in my chair to face her. The other difference between Megan and me is that she’s been at GU since her freshman year. As for myself, I was studying in the neighboring town, Stantonville. I initially applied to GU and Stanton River College—or SRC—but my application was rejected for GU and I was accepted into SRC. Which was a bummer, but at least Violet was accepted into SRC, too, so we moved from New Jersey to Stantonville.

Imagine my surprise when I was offered a random scholarship to GU for my senior year this summer. To say I was over the moon would be an understatement. GU’s medical program is one of a kind, which is why I wanted to enroll here in the first place. And to be offered that opportunity for my senior year felt unreal.

Violet seemed a bit apprehensive, but she still bought me a little cake and we had a blast celebrating that night.

I thought this would be my new beginning.

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