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Standing outside his door, I push my brown hair out of my eyes, slow my breathing, then rap my knuckles on the wooden surface. The dean makes me wait a full ten seconds.
“Come.”
Sucking in a breath, I plaster a smile on my face and open the door. Dean Stonewall is sitting behind his desk, fingers steepled together, leaning back in his chair, watching like a predator stalks its prey.
“Mr. Bartlett, please take a seat.” He sits forward, hands now clasped together on the desktop.
Holding out my hand to him, he stares at it for a moment, then his gaze meets mine. “Take a seat, Simon.”
Tilting my head to the side, I retract my hand and sit. I’ve worked hard these past twelve months to win back his and the Society’s trust, but clearly not hard enough. Mimicking his posture, I clasp my hands together and stare at him. It’s an old trick—he who talks first loses—and I fully intend to let Dean Stonewall win. He’s a powerful man with money and influence, whereas I’m only just starting out. I need his approval, or at the very least, the appearance that I do.
Shifting in my seat, I smile. “It’s started to pour outside. Looks like it’s going to be a miserable day.”
Dean Stonewall chuckles. “The weather? We’re reduced to such mundane conversation already. Really, Simon?”
Pursing my lips together, I stare him in the eyes. “What can I do for you, Dean?”
He points at me, wagging his finger, and chuckles again. “That’s more like it.” Twisting in his chair, he stands and walks toward the enormous window overlooking the campus. His hands are in his pockets, and he rocks back on his heels. “Do you have a way of contacting Ann or her father?”
I shake my head, but he’s not looking at me, so I clear my throat. “Not Ann.”
“But her father?” He doesn’t turn, his head slightly tilted up as he looks at the rain pelting against the windows.
Standing, I straighten my jacket and nod. “Maybe.”
Slowly, Dean Stonewall turns to face me. “Maybe?”
“I thinkhekeeps track ofme.”
He nods and places one arm across his stomach, tapping his chin with the other hand. “Hmm… I need you to get him to come to you.”
“Why? I thought he was a no issue.”
“He knows far too much about us.”
The dean eyes me like I’m a bug about to be squashed. “Canyoudo it?”
“Like I said, maybe. If he makes contact, what do you want me to tell him?”
Casually, he places both hands back in his pockets and grins at me. “Oh, Simon, I don’t want you to tell him anything. I want you to kill him.”
Simon
The rain has soaked through my jacket, and its cold causes my teeth to chatter like a child. I grit them together to stop the annoying noise and focus on getting from the dean’s office to my dorm on the other side of the campus. With my head down, I hurry, my hands jammed into my pockets in an attempt to keep them warm, which is ridiculous as I’m soaked through. The entrance looms in front of me, and I rush through its doors, shaking my head like an old dog trying to rid itself of the water that has collected on its fur.
“Jesus, Simon! Do you mind?” asks John. He lives on the same floor as me, and I’ve never liked him.
“Actually, John, no I fucking don’t. I’ve had a fucked morning. I’m dripping wet, it’s fucking freezing, and I don’t give a shit what you or anyone else thinks or feels for that matter,” I snarl as I continue to my room.
His mouth falls open in shock. I’m usually polite to the point of being nauseating as I try to weasel my way back into everyone’s good graces on campus. But I’m done. If I have to do this one thing for the dean, then there’s no point in pretending I’m that guy. I’ll never bethatguy ever again.
Throwing open the door to my room, I strip off my clothes, pick up a towel to wipe myself down, and put on another pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a thick sweater. There isn’t time to take a shower, even though I could use one to warm up. I wasn’t exactly truthful with Dean Stonewall. I can get in touch with Ann’s dad. He won’t like me reaching out, but what do I care?
If he’s the way I make it back into the inner circle, then I’ll do whatever I need to do. One little murder is a small price to pay for a life I deserve—one filled with power, money, and everything I could ever hope for.
Ann’s face filters through my brain like a grim reminder that if I do this, I’ll lose her forever. I mean, what kind of girl would want me after I kill her father? Ann is ambitious, but she has limits, and when I cross this line, she’ll be done with me. Not that I have any idea where she is. Her father lets me see her, but it’s always the same. I’m drugged, blindfolded with a hood, and wake up in a hotel room with Ann gazing down at me. I’ve only seen her three times since she fled. If Jonathan Stonewall hadn’t tried to use her to control her father, none of this would have happened, but then I would never have met her. Now, she’s in hiding from him and the members of his Scorpio Society.
I’ve been to Italy, Iceland, and a small island in the Pacific. We spend a week together, then her dad arrives, and I’m drugged, waking in a hotel room in New York. One time I woke up two days later, another time a day later, and the last time was a week, when I finally stirred and found I had a drip in my arm to keep me sustained while I slept. To say Mr. O’Day is cautious is an understatement. Ann said he used to be in the Black Ops for the CIA. Hank O’Day, not his real name, is deadly, and he scares me, but he also underestimates me, so with any luck, this will work in my favor.
