Tammi was right about one thing: the Brotherhood didn’t do trials.

A survival instinct—pure panic—blazed through the ancient part of her brain. Run, Rosalind.

Before the woman could finishing cuffing her, Rosalind reached back, grabbing the woman by her neck. She locked her arm around the woman’s neck and, using her body weight as leverage, flipped the woman over her shoulder and onto the floor. Free, Rosalind rushed for the door to the hall, slamming it behind her.

By the time Fridge busted through, she’d pulled her gun from her belt, already loaded with silver bullets. She pointed it at the Hunter’s head. The bullets were meant for werewolves, of course—not other Hunters—but they’d still kill a human.

Was she pulling the dumbest stunt of her life right now? Probably—but it was too late to turn back. She just needed to get down the stairwell, and out the door, then find a quiet place to get in touch with Josiah. He’d help her sort this out. He had promised to protect her.

Fridge paused at the edge of the doorframe, blocking in the others. He raised his hands, his face reddening with rage. “The mage has a gun.”

“If I were an actual mage, I wouldn’t need a gun. But like I said. I’m not a mage.” It wasn’t like she was going to use it on him, but he didn’t need to know that. Slowly, she backed away from him, edging closer to the stairwell with her gun trained on the Hunters.

When she reached the stairs, she bellowed at the top of her lungs, “Streeaaaaaak niiiiiiiiiight!”

Within moments, hallway doors slammed open. Rosalind didn’t wait around to watch her classmates strip off. She was already gunning down the steps. The horde of naked college students would cause just enough chaos to let her slip outside undetected.

With a racing pulse, she burst through the front doors, careening for one of the dark alleys between the campus’s brick Victorian buildings. She knew exactly how to hide on the Thorndike campus, and slipped past some recycling bins into an unlit passage. From there, she could sneak through to the football field and jump into a cab.

She’d have just enough time to call Josiah—assuming he could help her at all. Maybe she’d just watched her entire life blow up before her eyes.

From the alley, she sprinted past the darkened, tree-lined tennis courts, heading for the football field. Fear blazed, giving her extra speed, until a rhythmic noise stopped her in her tracks.

Rotors beat overhead, and a circular light danced over the tennis courts. Search helicopters. Were they for her? When the light swerved over the football field, she saw men, swarming the grass in dark clothes. The light swerved again, and she caught a glimpse of flame-red hair, and the glint of an iron chalice pendant. A chill gripped her spine.

Randolph Loring. He’d come for her, leading the hunt.

Seven hells. What the fuck was going on? The Brotherhood had brought down their whole damn army, searching for her. Her body buzzed with panic. This is all wrong. She belonged with the Brotherhood—not fighting them. It was her destiny to become a Guardian.