Page 108 of The Forever Crew (Adamson All-Boys Academy 3)
The knife is aimed toward my chest. On reflex, I hold up my own knife and her blade glances off it, making sparks. She’s in a rage now, her yellow dress dirty from dragging down the tunnels. They must’ve taken an alternate route to cut us off like this.
We dance around in a circle, knife to knife. Neither of us are experts, so the playing field is fairly even, but it’s scary as hell. Sweat pours down my face as I swing my own knife in defensive arcs. I don’t want to cut her. I don’t want to see her skin bleed. But I’m running out of options, aren’t I?
Pink and yellow princesses, knife-fighting in the woods.
The east coast is so weird, you guys. What would my California friends say about all of this?!
Hella fucking lame, bro.
Selena’s dark eyes are focused on me, her mouth pursed in a thin line as she presses her height advantage against me, forcing my back against a tree. When she goes for it, putting her full bodyweight into the knife, I drop low and tackle her. Her blade wedges in the tree trunk, tearing out of her hand as we fall to the ground in a glittering sea of skirts and lace. My crown, which has miraculously stayed in my hair this whole time, is torn off and tossed as Selena claws at my face.
“Women are supposed to fix each other’s crowns, you bitch!” I hit her in the face, just the way the twins taught me, cracking her across the jaw. She pushes me up and rolls us over, the extra weight she has on me giving her an advantage. We struggle over the knife, nails raking one another’s skin and drawing blood. It hurts, oh it fucking hurts, but I push the emotion back.
I’m fighting for my life here. There’s no such thing as too much to bear.
“Hah!” Selena shouts, wrenching the knife from my fist and bringing it down hard. I buck, throwing her off-balance just enough that the blade hits the grass instead of my throat. As she struggles to right herself, I shove her back, giving myself just enough room to crawl free. My eyes are on that knife in the tree as I struggle to my feet, petals falling from the corsage on my wrist.
A grunt draws my attention to the left, and I see that Spencer’s bleeding from his arm, clutching an oozing wound as he grits his teeth and backs a step away from Gareth. He doesn’t have a knife to fight back with.
There’s no hesitation as I grab the blade from the tree, ripping it from the loose bark and launching myself at Gareth. He turns at the last second, hesitating briefly—probably because I’m not his mark—and then bringing his own weapon up to defend against mine.
The force of my lunge knocks the blade from his hand, but my triumph is short-lived.
White-hot pain explodes across my vision as I stumble and fall, my body going numb as my hands hit the damp dirt of the forest floor. What just happened? I think as a boy screams my name. It might be Spencer, could be Church. My brain isn’t working so great right now.
I’ve been stabbed.I’m hauled back by my hair and thrown onto the ground. Someone’s gotten blood all over my pink dress.
“Finally,” Selena breathes, squatting over me, her dark eyes not without emotion. “I’m sorry, but blood is the only pact that can’t be broken.” She brings her knife to my throat, but I’m not done fighting yet. I grab Selena’s wrists, fighting against her much stronger grip. But my body must be running high on adrenaline because I’m able to keep her off of me until two sets of arms grab her on either side and drag her backwards, shoving her and sending her flying.
The McCarthy twins are here.
“Charlotte,” Ranger says, lifting me up and pulling me back against his chest. “You’re bleeding.”
“I think …” I start as my vision swims and I have to blink several times to stop the forest from spinning. “She stabbed me.” I put my hand on my lower back and lift it to my face, staring at the bright ruby red of blood.
“Jesus Christ,” Ranger growls, hauling me up and into his arms as Micah and Tobias circle Selena, trying to take the knife from her. The other cultists seem loath to interfere with me and Spencer, but they have no problem going for the others. Several of them descend on the twins, and as impressive as their skills are, as impressive as Church’s are, they’re all humans. They have limits.
“Ranger,” a man says, and I recognize that voice as the cult leader’s. He steps forward, out of the shadows of the trees, and lifts his mask up. Ranger’s body stiffens beneath me as I blink through the fog in my vision and try to make sense of who it is that I’m seeing.
