“Sounds a little satanic panic-y to me,” I say.
“Also possible. The founders passed on their superstitions, and the belief in the curse predates a lot of the buildings within city limits. You can’t really blame them for it.”
“Well you can blame them a little,” I note.
“That’s fair, especially since these are beliefs held by the town alone. Outside Fury Hill, no one cares.”
“Which is probably why no one in my family ever heard of a curse until Quincy enrolled.”
He points at me, nodding. “Exactly.”
Lucy scoffs. “Either way, Fury Hill groupthink almost got me killed.”
“Yet here you remain,” he says as we round the next floor, veering into a hall off the side that seems to get narrower the farther we go. “Honestly, you all lucked out somehow avoiding detection by Death’sTeeth. They’re the real threat to the Andersons.”
That name sends a chill skittering down my neck. “How come?”
We walk to the end of the hall, passing multiple blank, inconsequential doors and one markedArchives.The last is a solid wooden barrier with slash marks slicing across the paint, making my chest tighten.
“Everyone thinks of Death’s Teeth as this sexy vigilante group,” Lexington says, slipping a lock-picking kit from the inside of his corduroy jacket. He bends slightly, fitting the tools into the doorknob. “But that would imply they’re doing some sort of public service, avenging crimes or whatever.”
“They’re not?”
“No one’s ever seen real evidence of it. That’s kind of the point though—the obscurity. If you don’t know enough to ask questions, they can get away with anything.”
“Do you think what the Curators said about the murders last semester were true?” Lucy asks softly. “That Death’s Teeth framed them?”
Lexington shrugs. “Maybe. I have heard they deal in orgies and human sacrifice among a host of other things Pythia likes to claim.”
“Humansacrifice?” I stare at his fingers as they work. “Is there a religious component to this school that I’m unaware of?”
“I’m sure it’s got its roots in something,” he replies, finally pushing the door open to reveal a massive, unpainted room filled with dozens of bookcases, most of them only half-filled. “Growing up, my parents were always saying that death was the ultimate god to some people in this town, so maybe the sacrifices are their way of appeasing him.”
“Or her,” Lucy adds. “Death could easily be a woman. Or nongendered at all. I don’t think we should confine its identity to Western gender norms.”
“Fair enough,” Lexington says, straightening to his full height once again. “Point is no one really knows anything about Death’s Teeth, and they like it that way. But given all the weird shit that’s been happening, and Avernia’s long list of inexplicable student disappearances and deaths…” He looks at me, shrugging. “I’d say staying off their radar is your safest bet at survival.”
“And I’d say yours would be not entering restricted areas on campus,” a baritone voice asserts, shattering the air around us.
The four of us let out a noise of surprise, whirling around to face the intruder. Aurora clutches Lucy’s bicep, and Lexington slides a little closer to me, hooking his foot around mine as if he plans on protecting me.
I glance at our shoes—mine a Mary Jane, his some kind of sneaker—and then at the voice’s owner.
Sutton stands at the bottom step, arms crossed over his chest and a stern frown resting on his annoyingly handsome face. His jaw clenches as he looks at our group, slowing to a near stop when he notices how close Lexington is to me.
Good.Be jealous.
Especially since flanking his sides are Percy, Sabrina, and my sister.
The latter places her ringed fingers on her hips, narrowing her eyes slightly at me.
“Told you they were trying to break into locked archives,” Sabrina says, twirling her blond ponytail with one hand.
Percy shifts the cardboard box he’s carrying, averting his gaze.
“Jesus Christ, Sabrina, you’re such a goddamn tattletale,” Lexington mutters.
“Don’t be mad at me because you broke the rules, Abbott,” she says.
