Page 157 of Coveted

Fireworks. The display must’ve drawn people out onto the lawns and balconies, leaving the hallways basically empty.

Air sawing at my lungs, I risk a look over my shoulder.

Worthington’s face is a twisted mask and his arms pump as he runs at full speed after me.

I dash suddenly to the left, my mind frantically searching for a plan.

What will I do? Losing him seems unlikely, because he’s right on my tail and he knows Darkbloom better than I do. I had a chance of fighting him off with the stun gun, but my odds are terrible without a weapon.

Somewhere nearby, maybe a couple of floors above, I hear laughing and music amid the booms of fireworks.

My heart thuds. If I can get to the people, my odds of safety go up.

I take stairs two at a time to climb toward the sounds. At the top step, I draw a breath and scream so loudly my throat feels like it’s blistering.

Someone has to hear and come to investigate.

But I can’t slow down to do it again. Worthington’s powering up the stairs, showing no signs of fatigue.

As I sprint across a landing, the unseen partiers respond to my scream with exaggerated shrieks of their own, followed by hoots and cackling.

Oh god, they think I’m messing around for Halloween. Professor Worthington really chose the ideal night to kill people.

The laughter and screams echo around me like I’m stuck in a carnival house of horrors.

My surroundings are familiar, the oil paintings sparking my memory. I’m nearing the tower where Lucan took me after the Founder’s Feast.

A desperate idea occurs to me.

The tower door opens outward. If I get to the rooftop, I can barricade the door closed with the hefty stone bricks littering the platform. Then I can get the attention of the students hanging out in front of the building. Once the fireworks stop, they’ll hear me shouting.

“Get back here!” yells Worthington.

His voice sounds sinister and rough, like when he growled into my ear trying to abduct me off the street.

My hand catches the bannister, and I hurl myself around another corner to enter the tower. The stairwell is narrow, circular, and made of wrought iron.

The noise of my boots hammering the steps is deafening. Moments later, Worthington’s heavy footsteps join the din.

He’s right behind me. How will I have time to close off the door once I reach the top?

I’ve committed now though and have nowhere else to go. This has to work or I’m dead.

Through the blind fear, snapshots of my life here at Darkbloom flit through my mind’s eye.

Clara and Juliette. The view of mountains and trees from my dorm-room window. Reading in the cozy library. Endless coffees at The Bindery. Filling pages of my notebooks while the creaky old building settles around me.

And Lucan Hale.

He’s everywhere to me. He’s in everything.

At this point, he’s in my bones and blood.

I was falling for him when I pushed him away. Falling harder than I ever thought I would.

Instead of letting myself feel happiness, I rejected it. Not him.

Why couldn’t this clarity have come a week ago? A day ago? An hour?