Immortal Consequences(45)

But there was one message, one repeating phrase, that stuck out among the rest.

The Soulless One will set you free.

Masika was pulled out of the memory by a sound in the distance. At first, she thought it might be the wind. The maze playing tricks on her.

But then it dawned on her. This wasn’t just a noise—it was a voice.

Logically, she knew it could be one of the other nominees nearby, but something about the voice sounded strange, as though it were somehow all around her, above her and below her.

She came to an abrupt halt when she realized she recognized the voice.

“Masika…”

It was impossible. A trick. A sadistic illusion put in place to confuse her. But still, she held her breath, listening intently.

The voice echoed once more.

“Masika…” It sounded just like her. “Come find me, my little dove…”

Something shifted in the shadows up ahead. Masika squinted, determined to get a better look, and that was when she saw her. Tawny hair falling in loose waves. Soft thighs and a heart-shaped face. A smile made from the sun itself.

“Catherine.”

Masika started running, nearly tripping over herself as she scrambled to keep up with the illusion of Catherine. It had to be an illusion. It couldn’t possibly be her. But even with that knowledge, she couldn’t help but check. Even if it was just one glance. One more opportunity to see her.

But when she turned the corner, Masika skidded to a halt.

What she saw at the end of the path snapped her back into reality.

Hunched over a body was the same creature from before. White, leathery skin covered its long, crooked limbs. Blood dripped out of its mouth, coating its chin. Its claws ripped apart flesh. Masika heard, clearly, the snap of ligaments being torn. Bones crunching under sharp claws.

A familiar face leached of color.

The first time Masika met Nick Aronson, it had been between classes. He was a quiet and unassuming boy with beady topaz eyes that glanced around nervously and soft cheeks tinged with a rosy hue.

The last time she’d seen him had been earlier the previous morning when she’d been speaking to Liza.

He’d been standing there, waving her over, a bright smile on his face.

Masika blinked, and the image of a fresh-eyed Nick evaporated like morning dew, replaced by the scene unfolding in front of her.

The creature had plunged its talons into Nick’s chest and carved a gaping hole, splitting his torso into mangled ribbons. Beneath the creature’s grasp, Nick screamed. It wasn’t a scream of terror or helplessness.

It was a bloodcurdling scream.

His eyes met hers in a paralyzing moment.

Masika held her breath and stepped closer, prepared to fight. She lifted her hand, summoning the magic inside her, but something in Nick’s expression made her freeze with her hand lifted to the sky. He wasn’t asking her for help. He wasn’t silently begging her to intervene and save him.

His eyes were screaming for her to run. To leave him.

“Please,” he whispered.

Before Masika could wrap her head around what he was telling her to do, what he was asking of her, Nick’s body began to evaporate into tiny particles, his face coming apart like melted wax. The particles that had once been Nick hovered in the air, drifting in a circular pattern, before vanishing completely.

He was gone.

Masika lifted her hands to stifle the gasp of terror that ripped from her throat.

But it was too late.

Whatever noise she’d made was loud enough to catch the attention of the creature. Its head snapped toward her, red eyes glowing in the darkness.

This time, though—Masika was ready to fight.

She let out a scream as she stretched her hand toward the creature and released a supersonic wave of pressure that sent it flying into the air and colliding with the hedge behind it. As the creature fought to right itself, Masika used the opportunity to summon a surge of corporeal magic into her veins, silver shards bursting from her fingertips.

She reached her hand out, fury guiding her movements, and snapped the creature in half.

The exhaustion was immediate—the cost of her magic weighing her down, pushing her onto her knees. When she glanced up through her sweat-slicked hair, she saw that the creature’s torso had been severed in half, its bloodred eyes drained to empty white saucers.

But there was no time to revel in her victory.

In that same moment, the hedge next to her shifted, forming an opening that revealed a new path—one paved with red bricks and filled with opalescent butterflies. And though she wasn’t entirely sure where it led, she lifted herself onto her feet and crossed through, hoping and praying that whatever was waiting for her on the other side was better than what she’d just left behind.

18

Emilio

Emilio wasn’t meant to be the hero. He wasn’t one for grand adventures and daring escapes. He enjoyed simple things—a cup of coffee in the morning and a stroll in the afternoon. He liked routine. The simplicity of an easy life.

The one time he’d allowed himself to deviate from this routine, he’d ended up dead. Which meant that Emilio now not only detested danger, but had an aversion to it. He would do whatever it would take to stay within the safe bubble of his world full of old books and warm candles. Full of evenings spent lost within the dark shadows of the Library.

So—how the hell he’d ended up thrown into a monster-riddled maze was beyond him.