She snorted, pointing to her stomach. “Me? Do I look like I would know where the gym is?”
I laughed with her as we walked down the stairs and to the entrance. “Have you noticed there are no other students here yet?”
“Yeah,” she was baffled too. “It’s so weird. I have the entire third floor to myself, and I thought I could hear voices earlier, but it was someone outside.”
“Maybe another train load of students will arrive this week, and some of them will be our roommates,” I wondered aloud.
“Maybe,” she sounded doubtful. “If no more residents are moving in, then you should move into a larger room.”
“Sure. Why not?” I was slightly embarrassed that my wealthy father had to pay for a less expensive room, but perhaps that was because I had enrolled late and there were not many self-contained rooms left.
We walked outside into the dying sunlight as streetlamps flicked on, and as students along the street were heading in the same direction as us. Except one. One man, dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans, with messy, raven-black hair, was walking in the opposite direction, expecting the crowd of students to move out of his way. There was something untamed about him, a wolf on the hunt for his next prey. Then he bared his teeth and hissed at a girl, making her scream.
“Who the hell is that?” I muttered as his gaze fixed on us walking on the footpath directly toward him, and Mila grabbed my forearm and pulled off the path onto the road to avoid him. A smirk glided across his face as his nostrils flared as if he enjoyed intimidating us and everyone else around him.
When he passed, I turned back to see where he was going and was disturbed to see that he’d entered Morgana Hall, unlocked the door, and caught me watching him just before he closed the door behind him.
“He has a keycard to Morgana,” I pointed out to Mila in horror.
“Visiting someone?” she breathed. “Maybe his girlfriend is a resident.”
“But there’s no one there but us,” I stated, clearly, relieved that I had a lock on my door because he seemed so sinister and reckless.
We entered the dining hall that seemed like an afterthought - a modern building lacking the Gothic details of all the others I had seen. But the scent of roast chicken and sweet potatoes reminded me that I hadn’t eaten properly since breakfast and made me eager to dive into a large plate of warm, cooked food.
We grabbed a warm plate, lined up at the buffet, and loaded our plates with roasted meats, vegetables, gravy, and French bread. Then I followed Mila to a table in the far corner where two nerds sat, staring at their phones while eating.
One of the nerds was so transfixed on whatever was on his screen that when he opened his mouth to shove a forkful of potato, he missed and stabbed himself in the cheek. I suppressed a laugh with my hand as Mila had to turn away to disguise her smile, but the dorky guy was oblivious to us even being there, let alone laughing at him.
“Oh god,” Mila reached across the table and tapped my forearm. “There’s my sister. Don’t let her see me.” Mila slid down in her chair, so I could only see her head as I glanced behind me to a group of older students who were sitting together on the largest table, having a great time throwing food at one another while laughing loudly.
“I thought this was a dining hall for sophomores,” I snarled as I noticed in the middle of the bedlam of jocks and men, wholooked like the ringleader or kingpin, sitting quietly, speaking to no one, but everyone around him was aware that he was there.
He was probably one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen, carrying a vibe of charisma and the alpha of the pack, who didn’t need to speak to get his message across. The girls fussed over him, trying to catch his eye with a flirty smile, which he ignored, while his lower alpha and beta boys guarded their leader.
Weird.
“That’s Nicolae Warwick,” Mila screwed her face. “His brother and close friends call him Sickle. After the hooked corn cutter, I guess, but I’m not entirely sure. It could be Sick with extras.” Her scowl deepened as if she smelt something bad. “My sister has a massive crush on him. God. Embarrassing.”
“Warwick?” A shiver ran down my spine. My father’s enemies were called Warwick. The family tried to siphon territories from my father, initially through open negotiations. But when my father declined, they resorted to force and sent a hitman to try to eliminate him. If it weren’t for my father’s excellent security, he would’ve been killed. The man who ordered the hit was Leon Warwick, the boss, and he was arrested and convicted.
My cheeks burned as the floor seemed to open up and engulf me. I wanted to disappear, run back to my room, pack my bags, and leave.
“How many Warwicks are there?” I asked quietly, leaning over the table to Mila.
“Too many,” she hissed back. “One Warwick is one too many. But he has a younger brother here, too.”
“Leon Warwick’s sons?” I whispered, hoping the geeks glued to their phones weren’t listening. I needed clarification because they might be distantly related and had nothing to do with the hit on my father.
Her eyes gaped in fear as she nodded, her chin hitting the table as she did so. “Do you know them?”
“A little,” I whispered, trying not to make a big deal about it and draw attention to my little dilemma. “How do I get out of here?”
Her clear blue eyes darted around as if she were trying to understand what I meant. “We could take our plates back to the hall,” she suggested, but that wasn’t quite what I was asking. “And eat in our rooms.”
“I mean, how do I get out of this dump called Castlehill University?” My chest tightened with frustration and discomfort. “I need an escape plan if it becomes unbearable."
“I thought the train was the only way up here,” she replied as she grabbed her phone. “Have you looked at the map?”
