Page 14 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

Penny

“Noah, is that you?”

His name is out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

I can’t tell if my voice sounds scared or relieved.

There’s a dark chuckle up ahead, then a deep, unfamiliar voice. “Not quite.”

A flashlight shines in my face, blinding me. Then, like a scary movie, the person shines the beam directly underneath his chin, illuminating his face.

It takes a few seconds for my vision to clear, but when it does, I notice the tattoos on the stranger’s neck, his shaved head, and then, the leather jacket.

The patch affixed to the shoulder is in shadow, but I know the symbol well enough to recognize it. The vibrant red devil with purple hair and a lopsided golden crown.

I was running through the woods to escape my demons.

But in doing so, I ran straight into the arms of a Hell Prince.

I’ve met my fair share of Hell Princes, usually at parties where everyone is too drunk or stoned to care about the mingling of sworn enemies.

But I’ve never seen this man.

Because he is aman, not a boy. He looks nothing like the thin, puff-chested boys who swagger around town in their oversized leathers.

No, this man fills out his jacket nearly to bursting.

His arms are wider than my thighs, and the bottom half of his face is covered in a thick beard, in stark contrast with his bald, veiny head.

I take a step back.

“No need to be scared,” he croons, his voice deep and smoky. He smiles at me. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?”

I don’t have any business with the Hell Princes. The kids at Ravenlake who do talk with them regularly are usually only doing so to score cheap weed. But I don’t smoke at all. Pot makes me hungry, and Momma always knows when I’ve been eating more than she portions out for me.

“I’m Tank.” He points to a patch of an army tank stitched over his heart. “Bumper’s older brother.”

A couple months ago, I’d laugh and ask why this dude’s family has such an affinity for vehicular nicknames.

Bumper. Tank. What’s your dad’s name—Sedan?

But thanks to the events of last semester, I’ve heard of Bumper.

He was Haley’s ex-boyfriend, the Hell Prince she dated before her family moved across town.

Bumper is also the Hell Prince that Caleb and the other Golden Boys beat the shit out of.

“Your little friends ganged up on him. Beat him up pretty good,” Tank says, as if he can read my thoughts.

That’s not how I remember the story going, but I don’t want to get into an argument with a man named Tank when I’m alone and much too far from the party to be heard.

“My friends?” I shake my head. “You’ve got it all wrong. They aren’t my friends.”

Tank narrows his eyes and slides off the hood of my car, ambling towards me slowly. “That’s not the information I have, angel. According to my source, you are a friend of Noah Boone.”

“What kind of idiot are you getting your information from? I’m not Noah’s friend.”

---