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Beau’s fingernails dug into my thigh, and I turned my hand over to capture his own, locking our fingers together.
“Ali Griffin.”
I stiffened as the girl I had talked to only yesterday, the girl who had warned me about the guys, was yanked from her seat. Sobs shook her body, but the professors—if you could even call them that—did not relent. They dragged her kicking and screaming out of the cafeteria.
They listed a few more names, all in that mechanical voice, and a few more students were dragged out of the room. It went in one ear and out the other. Their screams. Cries. That damn, grating voice…
I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Hearing. Experiencing. A part of me didn’t even want to.
My hands shook.
“What the hell—” I began, my voice a whisper. Aiden leveled me with a glare that would make any sane person shit their pants.
The glare did nothing for me—I already knew I was insane.
“Shut the hell up,” he hissed.
Beau’s hand was tight in mine; I knew for certain that he was going to leave crescent-shaped indents in my skin from his fingernails.
We waited a minute in silence. It felt like hours. It felt like years. Time moved slowly when you were scared, I realized. Like molten lava sludging down the base of a volcano. There should be an entirely new time system for fear.
That minute? Longest damn minute of my life.
The whispers began once more followed quickly by a boisterous laugh a few tables over. It was that laugh that set off a chain reaction, like a wildfire in the forest. Everyone began talking at once, hands moving animatedly and smiles on their faces. Only a few, Beau and I included, still looked scared.
“What the everloving fuck—”
“Language,” Aiden chastised, finally tilting his head up and shoving his sandwich into his mouth.
“How can you be so calm?” I asked in disbelief. Fear was running rampant in my stomach, a vociferous mixture of dread and anxiety that threatened to choke me. What I had seen should not have evoked such calm, serene reactions from anyone. It was pulled straight from a horror novel—Psycho 101. A class I was sure Aiden excelled at.
Tanner was the one who answered, shrugging his broad shoulders.
“We’re used to it.”
The words were like a bucket of cold water dousing me. Submerging me. Drowning me. I gasped for breath, struggling to take air into my lungs. Was that what dying felt like?
It sucked ass.
“You want a word of advice?” Aiden asked casually. He lazily took a sip from his coffee cup—probably spiked with vodka and the blood of his enemies—before meeting my eyes. He appeared calm, but there was a slight furrow between his brows. A crinkle that hadn’t been there previously. It was the only hint that something lurked beneath his apathetic front. Somehow, that damn skin crinkle demoted him from intimidating to approachable. It made him look…human.
Not a word I would normally associate with Aiden.
“What’s this word of advice?” I asked, only half-listening. The other half was planning an escape. A way out. This was…
There were no words in the English dictionary that could possibly describe all that I felt about this hellish place. Had I somehow landed in the loony bin? That wouldn’t surprise me. I was one hit away from blowing. All someone had to do was light the fuse, and then…boom. An exploding Bianaca.
A dead Bianaca.
After all, you couldn’t survive such an explosion.
“Keep your head down. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t draw attention to yourself,” Aiden ticked off, using his fingers as a visual.
“Oh…and don’t die,” Tanner added.
Something occurred to me then, plowing me over like a semi-truck. I met Aiden’s icy eyes as revelation crested the horizon. For the first time, I could see. Or at least understand. His anger and aggression. His fear. That haunted, vulnerable look in his eyes.
“Is that what happened to Josie?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Was she taken just like those other students were?”
