Immortal Consequences(30)

Russo glanced down at Hexley’s unmoving body. She waved a hand over his face, and when he didn’t respond, she let out a sigh and lifted her eyes toward Irene. “A very smart play, but perhaps next time you could refrain from such…extreme tactics. With these kinds of wounds, Hexley here isn’t waking for at least a month.”

Irene bowed. “You’re welcome.”

She knew what would happen next. His body would be carried out by a group of Ascended and carted off to the infirmary. The other students would whisper about how horrible and cruel she was. About how she should have taken it easy on him. But Irene had stopped caring what others thought about her long ago.

Uninterested in watching the scene unfold, Irene stormed out of the classroom, throwing the doors open with a flick of her wrist.

But just as she stepped into the corridor, a boy came hurtling from the other direction and collided with her.

“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath. “Watch where you’re going.”

He looked up at her. Dark blond hair framed an angular face with a prominent nose and hollow cheekbones. His eyes, a sea of cobalt and sky blue, looked back at her with a teasing glint.

“I could say the same to you,” he mused, deep voice wavering slightly. Dark bruises stained the skin beneath his eyes, droplets of sweat dappling his forehead. Magic depletion, Irene noted.

“Did you just come back from the Ether?” Irene asked, unable to stifle her curiosity.

“What?” The boy blinked in confusion. “No. Why do you ask?”

Interesting. There was really only one thing that would leave a student that exhausted and depleted of their magic—entering the Ether. Which meant this boy was either lying, or had gotten himself mixed up in something that was undoubtedly against the rules.

Irene hoped for the latter.

Sensing he had made a mistake, the boy cleared his throat and said, “I mean—I didn’t just come back from the Ether. I went a few hours ago.”

“Liar,” Irene shot back without hesitation. “You’re up to something.”

The boy stared at her for a prolonged moment. She would have assumed he’d grow agitated by her accusation, but he simply continued to look at her with that amused twinkle in his eyes.

“And what if I am?” He cocked his head, biting back a smile. “What are you going to do about it?”

Irene shrugged, mustering up her most vicious smile. “Dunno. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I bet that works on most people, doesn’t it?” He took a step closer, never once breaking eye contact with her. “The intimidation tactics. The menacing stare. That stereotypical mean girl routine you’ve mastered.” He was inches away from her now, so close Irene could see the candlelight reflected in his irises. “But…luckily for you…I’m not most people.”

Irene rolled her eyes, though a part of her couldn’t help but squirm under the weight of his stare.

“That’s what everyone thinks,” she said, lifting her chin higher to meet his eyes. “Sorry to be the one to break the news to you—but you’re not special.”

The boy let out a chuckle of surprise.

“I don’t think you’re that sorry.”

Irene smirked. “Guilty.”

There was a second of silence, the two of them unflinching despite the tension between them, and then the boy was stepping away from her, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Well, I hate to cut this short, but I have somewhere to be.”

“How will I ever survive?” Irene deadpanned.

He chuckled, sauntering down the corridor. Before he turned the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder and his lips curved into a crooked smile. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around…Irene.”

She froze, eyes locked on his. She didn’t recognize him, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. It was a big school. Hundreds of students. It wasn’t like she could keep track of everybody who came and went. But if there was someone like that waltzing through the halls of Blackwood Academy, Irene would have thought she’d have noticed. Especially since he seemed to have noticed her.

But before she could ask how he knew her name, he turned the corner and disappeared, leaving Irene with the sinking feeling that though this was her first time seeing him, it most certainly wouldn’t be her last.

10

Wren

Late afternoon washed over Blackwood in shades of indigo and dusty-purple clouds as the thick evening fog rolled through campus. Wren had completed classes for the day, finishing Housemaster Calligan’s exam with flying colors. It had been easy enough, a rather simple illusion crafted to appear as though she were in a swamp. It had only taken her five minutes to dismantle it.

Child’s play.

As she trudged along the graveled path that connected the buildings of Blackwood, the anticipation of the opening ceremony building inside her, she spotted a familiar sulking figure in the distance. August sat in front of one of the various stone statues adorning the Main Yard, his long legs stretched in front of him, a paperback book tucked lazily between his hands.

He must have felt her watching him, because his head snapped up.

Their eyes met.

Wren opened her mouth to call out to him, but he looked back down before she could, as if he’d seen right through her.