“Kendrick. He’s the guy who thinks he’s in charge of the program,” Drake said. “He’s the reason we’re all here. We’re his science project.”
“Oh,” Gift said, as if that made perfect sense. Then it struck him how he knew him. “He came to my house. I-I mean Park’s house, when I was staying with him, before we came here.”
“He did home visits with all of us growing up,” Remi said.
Gift frowned. “Growing up?”
Remi nodded. “We were handpicked for this pretty much since before we were placed. The assets because of their predisposition to violence and lack of empathy or remorse. Nobody knows what the criteria was for us handlers, or why only forty-two of us made the cut. Well, technically forty-one, since you took someone’s place.”
Gift winced, feeling a pang of guilt. Payton ran his finger along Gift’s cheek, startling him. When he snapped his gaze to his, Payton gave him a weird smile, one that was almost…flirty. “Don’t feel bad, baby. Whoever they cut probably wouldn’t have made it, anyway.”
What the fuck was happening? In all the time they’d been in the same dorm, the same bed, Payton had never looked at him as anything more than a body pillow. Why was he being all creepy and weird?
Gift’s gaze darted to the front of the room, his breath catching as he noticed Park watching him. Watchingthem. He sat on a desk, one hand in his pocket, studying Gift from behind those glasses, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Gift inched his chair away from Payton’s, then looked down at his hands. When he looked back up again, Park—along with Mac and Archer, two other instructors—was talking to Kendrick in hushed tones.
“What do you think is going on?” Drake asked. “Did someone die?”
Morgan snickered, her purple ponytail swaying. “Isn’t that the whole point of this program?”
Sometimes, Gift found it hard to believe it was Dove who was the asset and Morgan who was the handler. Whenever she opened her mouth, she said something horrible. Still, Gift looked around. Counting heads. Persephone and Diego, Luca and Jay, Moses and Lennon. Along with the six of them huddled together, that covered all of Peregrine Pod. With Park in attendance, that meant everyone in their dorm was present and accounted for.
If someone in the school had died, surely, they’d have told them all assembly-style. Especially when half the student body was hardwired not to give a shit.
Gift leaned into Payton’s space. “Should we be worried, you think?”
Payton let his fingers trail along Gift’s shoulders.
Gift gave him an incredulous look. “What is with you today? Why are you so…handsy?”
Payton shook his head like Gift was stupid. “You said you wanted me to help you seduce Park, no?”
“Yeah?” Gift hedged. “I—did say that.”
Payton slid his gaze to Park, a smirk spreading across his face. “Consider this…recon.”
“Recon?” Gift parroted.
“Mm,” Payton said, still watching Park. “I need to know just how far away the goal line is. Judging by the look on his face, I’m guessing not as far as we thought.”
Gift wasn’t following any of this. Not the weird sports metaphor or what Payton saw when he looked at Park. All Gift saw was the same disapproving look and bored expression. Nothing like that look he’d given him last night.
Gift shivered. What would it be like to be under Park when he looked at him like that, like he wanted to eat Gift alive?
Finally, Archer stood. “Alright, everyone settle down. Let’s get started.”
The class quieted down.
“What’s going on, A?” Moses asked, sounding almost as indifferent as Park’s face.
“Is that how you address your instructors here?” Kendrick asked, looking down his nose at Moses.
Moses stared hard at Kendrick until the older man looked away, clearing his throat. Lennon’s lips twitched with aborted laughter as he side-eyed his roommate.
“What’s going on,” Kendrick said, “is a little…friendly competition. A game, if you will.”
Groans sounded around the room as students slumped in their seats like they’d just been told there was a pop quiz. Maybe it was the dorky school uniforms, maybe it was the class setting, or the rules, or the dorms. But despite most of them being nearing their mid-twenties, it felt a lot like Gift was back at boarding school with his high school friends—only those friends hadn’t planned on majoring in murder.
