The city lights are distant pinpricks as I barrel down the hill, gritting my teeth as the car rattles over the cobblestones. Dean Village is even spookier at night; the brick spires of Well Court look like black daggers, and the river glitters like a silver serpent, slithering between the buildings. A thick mist has gathered, turning the air to soup.

I park the car at the bottom of the hill. It's a short jog to the river, and I hear the group of figures before I see them. Poppy's voice is a shrill soprano rising over the male voices, and the panic in her voice makes my legs speed up.

Splashes of black come into view, like ink spatters on snow, and I realize belatedly that the boys are wearing their academic robes. Poppy is standing at the center of the group, holding up a sagging Theo. For a dizzying, terrifying moment, I think that Theo is injured, but no; he's holding what looks like an empty bottle of whisky in his left hand.

I let out a breath.

He's just drunk. Very, very drunk.

"Back the fuck off," Poppy says, and she presses Theo closer to her side, like a lioness protecting her cub. "I mean it, Bates."

With a jolt, I recognize Harry standing at the front of the group. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his chinos, and he looks unfazed by Poppy's fury. Calm, even.

"You're being ridiculous, Addington." He rolls his eyes. "Every new initiate jumps in the river. It's tradition."

"Look at him," Poppy snaps, holding up Theo's limp arm. "Does he seem like he's in good enough condition for a midnight dip?"

"Depends what he's dipping into," a blond boy calls out, and several of the others snicker.

Poppy's grip tightens on Theo's arm. Her dark hair is coming out of its ponytail, and I can tell that she's about three seconds away from stabbing someone in the eye with her stiletto. Sucking in a breath, I push my way into the center of the circle, shoving boys aside like bowling pins. Poppy snaps towards me, like a guard dog preparing to attack, and then she relaxes.

"Livvy?"

"I'm here," I say. "It's okay now."

Poppy's lip quivers. She's holding it together, but I can tell that her eyes are shiny, and I feel hot anger surge in my chest. If these twats make her cry, I swear to God I'll kill them.

Even Theo.

Slowly, I pivot on my heel, taking in the group. There's probably about a dozen of them. Maybe even more. In all of my combat training, I've never taken on more than four opponents at once. Even if Poppy were also a black-belt in kickboxing, we would be outnumbered.

Shit.

"Olivia Campbell," Harry says, and he looks amused. "Nice pajamas."

"Nice cloak." I raise an eyebrow. "Are you role-playing as a druid?"

"Livvy?" Poppy bites her lip. "Can we go now?"

"Not so fast." The blond boy from earlier steps forward, catching hold of Theo's free arm. "Smythe still needs to go for a swim."

"Let go of him," I say pleasantly. "Immediately."

The boy grins. "Or what?"

"Or I break your nose."

"Right." The boy snorts. "Like you could—"

There's a sickening crack as my elbow connects with his face. Poppy screams. The blond boy is shouting, stumbling back as he clutches his bleeding nose. A moment later, I feel my arms pinned behind my back. Harry's breath is hot in my ear, and I can smell whisky and the sweet smell of cigars on his breath.

"Now, now, Campbell." He makes a tutting noise. "That wasn't very nice." I twist in his grip, but Harry is surprisingly strong, pinning my arms at my side. "Say sorry to Michaels."

He gestures to the blond boy, and I snort.

Over my dead body.

"I only say sorry if I mean it," I tell him. "So, no. I won't."

Harry's nails dig into my wrist. We're standing at the edge of the river now, and I can see the rushing river below us, spitting up foam like a rabid dog. The full moon glitters off the black water like the wink of a silver knife. Harry sways slightly, and I realize that while he's strong, he's also drunk. Which means that I have the advantage.

Still, I'm going to ask him politely first.

"Let go of me," I say. "Now."

The boys snigger. Theo makes a noise, halfway between a protest and a groan, and Poppy draws him closer to her. She is shaking now, although whether with cold or fear or exhaustion, I'm not sure. It doesn't even matter. What's important is that I get her home. 

Now.

I stomp on Harry's foot. He doubles over, surprised, and I knee him in the groin next, twisting free of his grip.

At least, I think I do.

But Harry is still off-balance, and he jerks me back towards him, trying to stabilize himself. Only, Harry pulls too hard. And suddenly, I collide with him, and then we're both falling through empty space, careening towards the river. Poppy's shriek splits the air. Harry shouts. And then cold water fills my mouth, my nostrils, my eyes.

I can't breathe.

My legs kick out automatically. Harry's hand is ripped out of mine in the current, and for a terrifying moment, I don't know which way is up. All I can see is black. My hands claw in the darkness, and then I feel the cold night air hit my face. I suck in a breath, coughing up water from the river.

"Livvy!" Poppy's face is white. "Harry! Where's Harry?"

I twist in the water.

Harry is nowhere to be seen.

Several of the boys are speaking in loud, panicked voices, tripping over each other's words. My heartbeat is cannon fire. Bates. Where the hell did Bates go? I curse under my breath, flinging my arms out in the darkness.

Bloody typical.

First, Bates trips over his own two feet and pulls me into the water, and now, he needs me to rescue him.

I hate men.

I really, really do.

I spot a glimmer of red in the current. Immediately, I paddle towards it, kicking sideways through the current. It's traveling fast, but I've spent a few summers lifeguarding, and I have years of training to fall back on. I tug on the fabric, pulling Harry's body against my chest. With his head lolling against my shoulder, I kick backwards, propelling us towards the shore. I grit my teeth. With his water-logged cloak and tall limbs, Harry isn't exactly a helium balloon filled with feathers.

Still, I have to do this. The alternative is letting him drown.

Which, you know, tempting.

But Poppy would kill me.

My legs are screaming when I reach the shore. Several of the boys lift Harry out of the water, calling out for towels, and Poppy shoves a bespectacled one aside to haul me on to the bank. Her skin feels fever-hot when she hugs me, and it takes me a moment to realize it's because I'm cold.

How odd.

"Poppy." My lips are numb. "My keys—"

"You're not driving," Poppy says, and her voice is firm. "Not like this." She smacks a boy sharply on the arm. "Towel, Andrews. Now." A moment later, a fluffy blanket is wrapped around my shoulders. Poppy takes my hands in hers, breathing warm air onto them. "The taxi will be here in a minute, okay?"

I twist around. "Theo..."

"He's okay," Poppy says, and her voice breaks. "We're going to be okay."

There are tears sliding down her cheeks now, streaking black mascara across her face. Somewhere, Harry and Theo are being ushered into a car, and the boys are black silhouettes in the bright headlights. "You're crying." My brain feels fuzzy. "Why are you crying, Poppy?"

"Because I'm scared."

I shiver. "But I'm safe now."

"I know," Poppy whispers. "But you almost weren't, Livvy. You really almost weren't."

When we get back to the flat, Poppy ushers me straight into a warm shower, clothes and all. I sit in my soaking flannel pajama bottoms on the tile floor. Poppy shampoos my head, scrubbing the river water out of my hair. When I'm clean, she makes me change into the warmest pajamas that I own, hovering by my bed as I drink a cup of camomile tea. I'm not exactly sure what Poppy thinks that the tea is going to do, but I drink it to make her happy. I can tell that she's still on the verge of tears.

Poppy kisses my forehead, removing the empty mug from my nightstand. She turns off the light and closes the door gently. A moment later, I hear a key twist in our front door, and footsteps spill into the hall.

"Poppy!" Emma crows. "Babe, you will not even believe—"

Poppy makes a shushing noise. Their footsteps fade down the hallway. I can hear Emma whispering loudly, and Poppy says my name before the kitchen door closes.

I close my eyes.

And then all is blackness.