Let's Hunt Her (Book #2)

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ₣ØɄⱤ

I sit on one of the cold-moss-covered benches in the garden courtyard. Overhead the oak branches are strung with strands of royal-purple berries, and in the fading light of day they glow like they're lit from within. The last of the blue, purple, and white flowers peek through the grass in careful and detailed patterns around my feet. I look up at the canopy of tall trees where the snowflakes from this morning have already melted. When I first got here, Sejeong explained that a hot spring runs under the school, allowing us to enjoy the flowers nearly all year round, and while it is a bit warmer on the ground than in the trees, I'm still convinced that the head horticulturist here must be somewhat a genius. I twirl a piece of fresh grass between my fingers, the fast motion mirroring the wound-up tension in my body.

A small group of elemental-level students are clustered at the other side of the courtyard, speaking in hushed voices. It's impossible to know what Families they belong to, since the students come from all over the world and speak multiple languages. But they clearly know who I am, because every once in a while they look in my direction and lean toward one another, as though to further conceal their words.

There is movement near the arched vine doorway leading into the adjacent courtyard, I hear cloaks being taken off hooks on the other side of the vine wall, signaling that strategic sparring has just ended. Strategic sparring, knife throwing, mind games-a month ago I would have laughed at the idea that such a curriculum even existed.

Rosé and Jimin are the first to come through the vine doorway, and I get up from the bench. Rosé's eyes light up and she brushes back a piece of hair that has fallen out of her loose ponytail.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite circus act at Ghost High," she says loudly enough that the elemental students turn in our direction. She switches from an Australian accent to an American one, both of them impeccable. In fact I don't think there's an accent that she hasn't mastered, making it impossible to know anything about her upbringing, other than that she's a Jackal and a force to be reckoned with. "After you graduate, well . . . if you live to graduate, you should take your show on the road. I would pay good money to watch stunts like the one you pulled on Jennie."

I exhale audibly. In a normal world, the fact that she helped me escape from Yoo would mean that we're no friends, but this is Rosé. "Anything else you want to shout in front of everyone, or did you get enough attention for the day," I reply.

Just as I'm finishing my sentence, Taemin enters the courtyard and sees me talking to Rosé. We make eye contact and his gaze is openly threatening, like he's broadcasting the fact that he's not done trying to kill me. The sickest part is that he's my cousin, and even though I didn't know that until a couple of days ago, he knew all along-and it didn't faze him in the least.

"Cranky, cranky," Rosé says as she follows my line of sight. "Looks like . . . what's the American saying? Ah yes. It looks like 'someone bit off more than they could chew' this morning."

Jimin doesn't leave Rosé's side, but his shoulders are turned away from me and his arms are crossed, like he's guarding himself from having to interact with me or maybe he just doesn't want anything to do with this conversation.

I look away from Rosé as Jungkook exits the strategic sparring and heads for the door leading inside.

Rosé's eyes twinkle, like she's found something interesting. "Unless maaaybe you're not scared about the consequences of pissing off Jennie and Taemin because, oh, I don't know" -she inspects her nails- "you're leaving us soon?"

"What?" I nearly choke on the word and shift my attention back to her, trying to keep the shock out of my voice. "As much as I'd love to stick around and listen to your crap, I've got to go." Given Rosé's victorious look, it's too late she already knows the truth. So instead of continuing this disastrous conversation, I follow Jungkook.