Immortal Consequences(132)

But Irene Manette Bamford wasn’t known for being nice.

Now she stood up from the desk and gathered her things, stuffing her papers into her satchel and tossing it over her shoulder. Wesley was right. Her first meeting as an Ascended was about to begin.

And though Irene had every intention of going, there was one more thing she had to do.

She grabbed the locket dangling from her neck.

She whispered his name.

It was time to get to work.

64

August

Years ago, centuries ago, August had made a promise. He had promised himself that even though he’d joined the Demien Order, even though he’d given up that part of himself, he wouldn’t let the darkness consume him. If he remained undercover, if he restrained himself from the enticing power of shadow magic, he’d be safe. He wouldn’t turn into what his sister had become.

He wouldn’t have to give up his humanity.

It had worked out to his benefit. His sister needed someone on the inside, someone who could stay within the confines of Blackwood until the time was right. If he had given up his humanity, someone would have noticed. They would have sensed the change inside him and sniffed him out. So Edith didn’t push the matter. She let August cling to his humanity for the sake of the Order.

But now August had made a new promise. One that outweighed everything.

Find me. Wherever you are, wherever we end up, don’t stop looking for me.

He would go to the ends of the afterlife, crawling on all fours, bloodied and bruised, if that was what it would take to bring Wren back. He would rip apart every last living soul, piece by piece, fragment by fragment, until there was nothing left but an empty abyss. He would carve out his humanity with his own two hands and let the darkness take him.

Whatever it took.

He would do it.

He would find her.

August called the shadows.

…and they answered.

65

Wren

It turned out hell was eerily quiet.

Wren had always imagined she’d hear the souls of the lost screaming in agony, the tortured cries of the damned echoing against her skull for all of eternity. But there wasn’t any of that. There was only silence and the dripping of a faucet somewhere nearby, an incessant noise grating on her nerves.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

But the longer Wren stayed locked behind the iron bars, shivering in the damp and cold, the more she started to think that maybe Edith hadn’t dragged her to hell but somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere worse.

“I apologize for the state of your current accommodations.”

Edith’s voice sprang out from the darkness. She stood a few feet in front of the cell, leaning against a doorway. The monstrous version of her that Wren had seen in the Ether had vanished, replaced by something more human. Her eyes were still cold and impossibly black. Her features sharp and brutal. But there were no shadows enveloping her. No sharp teeth or wicked grin.

Just a girl cloaked in darkness.

“What do you want?”

“That’s a simple question with an exceedingly complicated answer.”

Wren staggered to her feet. Her entire body ached. Her head throbbed. She tried to regain her balance, hand clutching the iron bar next to her.

“Well, considering it’s highly unlikely you have any intention of letting me go, I’m sure you can spare the time.”

Edith laughed. Actually laughed. The sound light and airy. “Time isn’t an issue. It’s never been an issue. I’ve always had plenty of it. Too much, some would say.”

“Fine. I’ll simplify the question,” Wren huffed, gripping the bars of the cell. “What do you want from me?

Edith’s lips curved into a smile. “Look. It’s a long and frightfully boring story that I’m sure you’ll learn all about later. But for now, all you need to know is that we’ve been planning to infiltrate Blackwood and destroy it. We’ve been planning for centuries, but it’s finally coming to an end. The restart. The clean slate. We needed our catalyst to be ready. The destroyer of Blackwood. The one destined to lead us into battle. And, according to the Soulless One’s prophecy, that catalyst of destruction is…you.”

Wren blinked, taken aback. “Me?”

Edith stalked toward the iron bars, the darkness parting for her. It struck Wren in that moment how similar Edith and August really were. At first, she’d thought perhaps Edith’s use of the word brother hadn’t been literal. A term used between members of the Order. But it was evident now that their relationship was one bound by blood.

The same naturally tanned skin. Dark hair. Sharp cheekbones. They were both deliriously beautiful—a palpable danger lurking beneath the surface.

Wren tried to ignore the way the mere thought of August sent a shiver down her spine. She’d always thought their relationship had been something destined by the stars.

But now she knew the truth.

It had all been carefully orchestrated by the hands of the Demien Order. And now she couldn’t help but wonder what parts of their relationship had been real and what parts had been nothing but an obligation.

“I’d like to show you something.”

Edith flicked her wrist and the cell door sprang open.

Wren pressed her back against the wall behind her. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”