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Instead, with my arms wrapped around myself, muttering curses under my breath, I walk as fast as I can, uphill, in the outfit I’ve been provided. By the time we get to the church, I’m sure there’s a blister on the back of my heel and just in front of each big toe. My exposed skin is cold to the touch, but thankfully, the walk has warmed me up enough that I don’t really feel that cold.
The clock on the church says 8:55 as I walk inside, a few paces behind Syn, Royal and Gemini. Inside, it’s empty, although lights are on in the alcoves. We walk straight down the center aisle then take a left to the door in the corner.
The church was the first building constructed on campus and is run by a pastor who is more than likely not in the building when people are in need of him. It’s supposedly presbyterian, although I’d be surprised if there was anyone on campus who attended for genuine religious purposes. Aside from the faculty’s Welcome Mixer, the only time I’ve ever seen this place used is for parties…
And below…
More parties, drugs, alcohol, fights, and orgies.
There are two levels below the church, but today, whatever we’re doing, it’s being held on the middle level. I’ve only managed to do a little snooping down here, so I know there’s a security room, but there are also a few other doors I’ve yet to look behind.
The main part of the church probably has many original features from when it was built, with modern technology added discreetly. I can’t say I have an interest in church interiors, but it looks like a lot of other old churches built in this part of the country at that time. Almost unidentifiably timeless.
Below, with the stairs and hallway encased in stone, it somehow feels like we’ve traveled back much further in time. And the crypt on the lower level could have been taken from any ancient European city and transported here.
So, I’m not sure what to expect of the room Syn leads us to.
The double doors look like originals, but when Royal pushes both open, I’m greeted with warmth and light.
And a room full of people.
Conversations stop abruptly as Syn strides in with his head held high, and at first, people turn in their seats to stare at him. There are a mixture of expressions in the room. A few look at him in awe, and some have trained themselves to show nothing, but most eyes go wide, and a number of Adam’s apples bob up and down.
As he walks past them, only cursory glances are shot at Royal and Gemini—although most are much more favorable than the looks directed at Syn—most of the attention starts to turn to me.
I come to a stop only a few paces into the room, my heart beating so loudly, that it feels like it has moved to my ears.
Behind me, someone leaves the back row and shuts the doors, caging me in to a room full of deadly animals.
VIII
Tori
Every year, the Elite allows up to 16 students to join. Over the last few months, I’ve learned who everyone is, and I know there’s only just over sixty people in this room, but right now, it feels like three times that number.
At the front of the room, Syn’s eyes narrow, and with the smallest jerk of his chin, indicates he wants me up there with him.
Hoping how nervous I am is well hidden, I straighten my back and walk down the center aisle like I have the confidence of a model on a runway during New York Fashion Week.
I walk past Syn, making sure I’m a few paces behind him before I turn to face the room.
I’m sure that of all the collective thoughts running through their minds, not a single one is positive towards me.
In this moment, I decide I’m not going to lower my gaze like planned. Instead, I’m going to look each and every one of them in the eye.
It’s surprising how few of them meet my stare.
Despite my movement, the room remains silent. Not even Syn speaks.
Until a junior, Pepper-Rose, sticks her hand into the air.
“Yes,” Syn says.
Pepper-Ann stands. “Why is she here?”
Syn inhales, glancing at the faces in front of him before he turns his head a fraction in my direction. “Oh, you mean her.”
Although I’d love nothing more than to step forward and smack him upside the back of the head, I keep my hands clasped loosely together, and my expression, pleasant.
