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GARETH Tonight, I’m going to hurt someone. I don’t care who as long as they wiggle and writhe like worms beneath my shoes. Or more accurately, a snake. Just kidding. I do care who. It can’t be just anyone. The target of my night of mayhem needs to be a miscreant who’s as bad as me. Or worse. On paper, everyone is worse than me, though, so there’s that, I guess. No one would expect The King’s U—or TKU—college’s resident genius law student to infiltrate the Serpents’ mansion during one of their grand parties. Or to target none other than the head of the Serpents, Yulian Dimitriev. The son of the leader of the Chicago Bratva. But I’ve always been up for a little challenge. So here I am, walking amid the overflowing extravagance of their lively mansion, sliding between hot, drugged, and drunk bodies. Despite being a Heathen—the other secret club on King’s U’s grounds and the Serpents’ deadly rival. We’ve been at each other’s throats since the start of school on this godforsaken island on the coast of the dreary, dark, and depressing United Kingdom. And while we love causing trouble, the one who actually started the war was Yulian, who was just itching to have his head bashed in and splintered to pieces. Obviously, we returned the initial blow, and ever since then, it’s been a struggle to determine who holds more power. Just kidding again. We’re unrivaled. However, the Serpents are up there as well. Especially Yulian. Our fights are always the talk of the campus, and the underground fights draw more crowds than intended. Truth is, everyone loves a bit of anarchy. A touch of chaos and violence. A drip of blood here. A crack of bones there. The crazier the better. The more unhinged the scene, the more entertaining it is to the audience. But that audience is appalled about the idea of getting close, throwing a punch, tasting that blood, or touching that broken bone. It’s shockingly disgusting. Severely deviant. Outrageously inhumane. Vile. Atrocious. Horrifying. I chant the same mantra in public—even amongst my friends. They know me as Gareth ‘The Fixer.’ Gareth, who makes sure no one gets killed and that the police are taken care of. Golden boy Gareth with the highest GPA, who had Ivy League colleges foaming at the mouth to have him join their ranks. Gareth, who possesses the cleanest reputation and a future lined with open doors. No one suspects that when they think I’m closed off in my room studying, I’m actually here, roaming behind enemy lines with the Serpents. Doing what none of them, not even my brother, Killian, would ever do. And I’ve been so meticulous about it, too. First, I needed to receive an invitation, and those are only issued by the upper echelon, i.e., Yulian and his gang of useless followers. But they also allow their invitees to bring plus-ones. So I seduced one of the girls Yulian’s been flirting with, pretending the book she was reading was interesting—it wasn’t, just another piece of mind-numbing analytical bullshit written by a self-righteous idiot—and it got the convo going. I was pretty sure she was Yulian’s girlfriend since she was always hanging onto his arm and deep-throating him with her tongue around campus, but she sure didn’t look like it when she had her foot on my crotch under the table in the library—disgusting, by the way, don’t ever put your dirty shoes anywhere near me. One incinerated pair of jeans later, I had the invitation I’d endured the urge to slit her throat for. I’ve totally ignored her since I got here, though. The mask helps in keeping my preferred identity tucked away. Invisible. I adjust my white skeleton mask that has two large, black-painted holes where my eyes are—the Serpents’ version of our neon stitch masks. While ours are differentiated by color, theirs can be distinguished by the symbols engraved on them. Normal members, like who I’m pretending to be, wear a simple white skeleton mask. The leaders wear black skeleton masks. Yulian, whose movements I’ve been following from across the room, is also wearing a black skeleton mask, but his has engraved golden serpents shooting out from where his eyes are. No surprise there as he always loves standing out. The freakier the better. His mansion is everything one would expect, though. An overwhelming display of power, wealth, and control. The grand hall stretches out before me in cold, decadent shades of ivory. The chandeliers hang from the ceiling, dripping with crystals, emitting a dim, ethereal glow over the marble floors that shine like glass. Velvet drapes line the walls, their deep-red swaths casting a crimson hue on TKU’s students. Noisy chatter and loud music fill the air, but it all feels distant, muffled, because I’m standing on the outside of something I don’t care to be part of. I move through the crowd with ease, a faceless figure among the Serpents, blending in with the rest of them. My posture straight and movements confident, I slip further between them, unnoticed. That’s what I’ve always been. Invisible. Unremarkable. Since I grew up in the overpowering shadow of my younger brother, I automatically became smaller. Barely discernable next to him. Completely overshadowed by his attention-seeking habits. You’re such a good boy, Gaz. I never have to worry about you. I’m so glad you’re this dependable, son. Responsible. Reliable. Perfect. Perfect. P. E. R. F. E. C. T. Those are the words I grew up hearing from my parents, my grandpa, my teachers, and my entire entourage, really. And I love it. I like that none of them caught a whiff of this side of me. The side riddled with urges and voids, and a thirst so deep, Kill would look like a saint if they realized. Except for Grandpa. Grandpa is different. So back to those urges—the reason I’m wasting my time with these people. The air is thick with perfume, alcohol, and something else, something darker, like desperation and pain. It wraps around my throat like a noose, and I suck it deep into my lungs. Like a hit of the strongest shit on the market. Shit I slipped into Yulian’s drink earlier when I casually passed by him while he was talking to one of his goons. I made sure to be facing away from the camera so that if they checked the security footage later, they wouldn’t find anything. Sure, they could track my movements throughout the evening, but I’m a step ahead on that front as well. Not only did I make sure to avoid all cameras, but I also wore brown contacts, so even if they managed to get a picture of my eyes, it’d be misleading. Yulian stumbles and grabs onto the staircase for balance. None of the other drunk fools pay him any attention. My lips pull in a smirk behind the mask. The drug is kicking in. Soon, he’ll be losing all his strength. Don’t misunderstand. I might want to ruin the Serpents’ leader, but I’m not foolish enough to think I can handle him. Not only is he big—almost as large and tall as my cousin Nikolai—but he’s also cunning and surrounded by his people and guards who’ll maim me on the spot. I had to be smart about this. I was never that good with my fists, which is why I learned archery and use arrows to shoot people at our initiations. Pity I couldn’t slip my bow in here. He’d look cute with an arrow between his eyes and blood dripping down his face. What a missed opportunity. But my plans are more wicked. I’ll humiliate him in a way that will get him blacklisted, not only on the island, but even back home. His dad might put a bullet in his head. That would be fun. My smile widens at the thought. With Yulian gone, the Serpents will be over. Unlike us, who have a more balanced power structure, Yulian has been carrying this entire clusterfuck on his back this whole time. Sure enough, Yulian trudges up the stairs slowly, holding on to the railing. I wish I had a camera to record this scene. The guys’ minds would be blown if they knew what I’ve done and what I’ll be doing.