brow furrowing.
“Maybe,” I reply, biting the inside of my lip. I can feel a blush creeping into my cheeks. “It’s… a possibility, anyway.”
“You don’t sound super convinced,” remarks Hazel.
“That’s because I’m not,” I explain. “The truth is, I got a text from someone during the conference, telling me to watch my back.”
“Who was it from?” asks Shade, crossing his arms.
“That’s the problem,” I say. “I’m not sure.”
“You realise it could’ve been Lyle, right?” asks Ruby. “Or any of the other Academy bastards trying to throw you off.”
“I know, and that’s what I thought, too,” I concede. “At least, at first. But then…” I sigh, looking down. It’s embarrassing that I’ve kept this from the others, but I wasn’t expecting to need to resort to this. We’re backed into a corner. “After we escaped from the campus, when we were first running back into the city, I got another text,” I explain, choosing my words carefully. “Same number, but I have no idea who it belongs to. Hell, I don’t even know the area code; it was unlisted. It said that we need to come to London if we want to survive this.”
“And that’s it?” asks Shade, sounding incredulous.
“I texted them back, asking who they were, but they never responded to me.”
“Great,” mutters Landon. “That doesn’t exactly bode well.”
“I know,” I admit, “and that’s why I didn’t say anything earlier. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to… But now I’m starting to think we might not have a choice.”
“So you think we should do it, then?” asks Xander. He and Ruby exchange a look. “Just like that?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Hunter says, shifting uncomfortably. “We don’t even know who they are.”
“That’s a fair point,” Silas agrees. “For all we know, it could be someone from the Academy, trying to lure us back there. What if it’s a trap to corner us?”
“To be fair, that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense,” Landon points out. “If they wanted us back at the Academy, why wouldn’t they just tell us to meet them there?”
“Maybe they’re finally realising we’re smarter than they gave us credit for,” Shade suggests with a smirk.
“I guess that’s a possibility,” I acknowledge, my face falling. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything. We can figure out another way to-”
“Well, wait a minute,” Hazel interrupts, holding up a hand. “I don’t think we should just ignore this.”
“But we could be walking right into a trap,” protests Hunter. “We can’t let M-” He stops himself, clears his throat, and says, “We can’t let any of us get hurt.” His blue eyes flicker to me, and then down to the ground.
“We have to think big picture, though,” argues Hazel. “Let’s just say this is a trap, and someone’s trying to capture us. They obviously already know where we are, or they wouldn’t have sent that warning during the convention, right? Which means if we don’t take them up on their offer, we could just be inviting them to come attack us while we’re sitting in Boston with our asses hanging out.”
“So we leave Boston,” suggests Xander. “We can take a train down the coast, find a way to-”
“Do you really think the humans are going to let us leave the city?” Hazel asks. “They’ve blocked off the airport. They know they have us trapped here, and they’re just going to keep tightening the net. I wouldn’t be surprised if the train station already has agents there waiting for us.”
I can see the wheels turning in Shade’s head, and he nods slowly, looking at Hazel. “You’re saying it would be better to have someone spring a trap on us if we’re in London.”
“Exactly,” says the siren shifter. “Boston is crawling with Academy enforcers. Twice as many, with the UK humans still looking for us, and that’s not even counting the school board and the ambassadors. For all we know, everyone in the damn city is out to get us. At least if we had to duke it out with your mysterious contact in London, Millie, we wouldn’t be running the risk of the entire city coming after us.”
“And that’s all assuming your contact isn’t on their side,” Silas points out, sounding thoughtful. “It could be that they do want to help us. Remember Josie?”
I hum in agreement, thinking back to the faculty fellow who risked everything to help us escape from lockdown at the Boston campus. God, I hope she’s okay.
“Maybe you’re right,” admits Hunter.
Silas turns to me,