Let's Hunt Her (Book #2)

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When I was a child and people asked me what I wanted to be when I was older, I gave them all sorts of wild answers. I told a teacher I wanted to be a couch potato so I could spend my days snuggled up under blankets in the living room. I told my best friend Jisoo's mom I wanted to be a kimchi taste-tester because that's what Jisoo wanted to be. And I told me dad I wanted to be a knife so I could cut my grilled cheese sandwiches in two perfect triangles instead of the four dinky squares he always prepared. Of course this answer earned me a raised eyebrows and an explanation about how a girl is a living, breathing thing that can be cut; and a knife is a sharp piece if steel that does the cutting. But now that I've discovered most of my childhood was a lie, I'm starting to think my younger seld onto something with the knife answer. Because in the past few weeks at Hidden Academy, I've come as close to being a knife, or being stabbed by one, as anyone can get.

I shut the door to the infirmary behind me and head down an empty hall that's lit by torches. I roll my sleeve down over the bandage on my forearm, where the nurse smeared my wound with some kind of strong poultice that smells of pine needles and clay. She kept telling me how lucky I was to have survived the fall from the tree in the courtyard, and with no broken bones. She tsked a lot and said, "You young people with everything for granted."I doubt she would have used the word lucky, though, if she knew I was thrown from the tree because the Tiger Family wanted me dead.

As I turn the corner into another silent hallway, I notice the torches have burned down, leaving the hallway ahead of me almsot completely dark. I slow to a stop, eyeing the dying embers on one torch suspiciously. Shouldn't someone have replaced them? And where are the academy guards? There's usually one posted in every hallway. I frown, wondering if I should head back to the infirmary, when I hear a faint gurgling noise.

I leaned forward, reluctant to step into the unlit hallway, as if the dark might bite me. For a second, everything is quiet, and I wonder if I only imagined the sound. Then a gasping cough breaks the quiet and my adrenaline soars.

"Suzy!" a strangled voice calls, and everything in me sinks. I recognize that voice.

"Sehun?!" I shout, and my previous hesitation disappears; I sprint full-speed into the dark.

My boots click rhythmically against the stone and my breathing accelerates with my pace. I run with my hand along the wall to keep my sooting as I chase Sehun's distressed voice.

Ahead of me on the left I can just make out a strip of light-the silver space under a closed door-and the choking sounds get louder as I near it. I grasp at the door latch in the dark, throwing my weight against the heavy wood. The hinges whine as it opens and I burst into the room, only to stop again so fast that I almost lose my balance.

My chest heaves as I fight to regain control over my runaway heartbeat. The room is enormous, with stone walls and a high arched ceiling. It's oddly devoid of furniture-except for the far end, where there are a platform and a large lavish chair that resembles a throne. The walls are hung with fancy portraits and ornate curtains. But what's stopped me in my tracks isn't the architecture or the decor. It's the dead bodies.

My eyes sweep across the expansive floor and my hand flies to my mouth to keep from crying out. Most are people I've never seen, a sea of unknown faces, their features contorted in pain in their last moments. But then I spot him at the far end of the room: Sehun, clawing at his throat as his mouth foams. Lying next to him is Sejeong, and beside her are Lisa, Rosé, and Jungkook. They're spread out, unmoving, their backs arched, bloody marks scratched across their throats. And standing in front of them all with his back to me is a tall man with dark hair styled with gel. He starts to laugh, long and loud.