Immortal Consequences(53)

“Right.” Masika mustered a cordial smile in return. “Of course.”

Louise nodded, walking past Masika, her ice-blond hair whipping in the wind.

“See you around!”

Masika wasn’t sure why, but as the girl walked away, disappearing into the horde of students congregated on the main path, she felt a cold trickle of dread travel up and down her spine. A horrible sensation swept her body—a feeling that something terrible, something irreparable, was lingering on the horizon, just beyond what she could see.

But maybe it was just her imagination.

Maybe.

21

Olivier

“Daydreaming?”

August set his textbooks down with a loud and forceful thump, sinking into the seat across from Olivier. A hallowed silence enveloped the Library, a sacred stillness, and August’s clamorous arrival resulted in a few students glancing up with irritated scowls on their faces.

Until they noticed who had made the noise, and then they simply glanced back down and minded their business.

“Oh, just contemplating my meager yet interminable existence.”

Olivier lifted his lips into what was meant to be a smile but probably looked more like a grimace.

“Ah.” August fiddled with a fountain pen, tapping it against the wooden desk. “The usual, then?”

Olivier hummed and refocused his eyes on his notebook. He had spent the better half of the hour attempting to silence his mind, desperate to acquire some semblance of tranquility despite the ever-present, nagging thoughts about the Decennial that seemed to be haunting him. August, annoyingly perceptive as always, noted Olivier’s frustration right away.

August leaned closer. “Trouble concentrating?”

Olivier clenched his jaw and craned his neck from side to side. The last thing he wanted to deal with was August’s oppressive presence. He had already spent the past few days enduring the prying eyes of the other students, their suffocating and unrelenting questioning. Normally, Olivier didn’t mind attention. In fact, he tended to revel in it.

But now the circumstances had changed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Your pupils are dilated,” August noted, pointing the edge of his pen at Olivier’s face, stopping about an inch away from his eye. “A clear sign of stress firing in your autonomic nervous system.”

“I wasn’t aware you had your medical license,” Olivier mused, careful not to flinch. If there was anything August loved more than eliciting fear in others, it was savoring the look of terror in his victim’s eyes. “Should I call you Dr. Hughes from now on?”

“And you’re far more snippy than usual,” August noted. “Much less…compliant. Is there something troubling you?”

Olivier snorted. “How long do you have?”

A few students sitting nearby stood up from their desks and moved farther away, muttering words of disapproval under their breath. Speaking was strictly frowned upon in the sacred halls of the Library. August, however, had a notorious habit of doing whatever he wanted, even if it meant solidifying his reputation as a world-class prick, and Olivier had no intention of calling him out—unless he wanted to end up with that fountain pen jammed through his cornea.

August slipped off his silver ring and spun it against the wooden desk.

“I have a suggestion,” he said. “Something that perhaps could help ease your mind about the Decennial.”

“Does it involve copious amounts of alcohol and hallucinatory drugs?”

“No.” August smirked. “Though I might take you up on that offer later down the line.”

Olivier closed his notebook with a sigh. “What, then?”

“It’s obvious that certain contestants are going to gravitate toward one another. Form partnerships that might help them throughout the remaining trials. It’s difficult for me to discern whether or not I can trust the others.” August smiled, though there was a palpable sense of regret clouding his gray eyes. “But you, on the other hand…you are reliable.”

Olivier could sense something on the horizon. A conclusion to August’s rambling.

“Are you…are you asking for an alliance?” Olivier asked hesitantly. “With me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. We both know you’re smart. Far smarter than you let on. Not to mention that you’ve been around longer than most students.” August rolled the silver ring in his palm. “Perhaps…too long.”

Olivier tensed. “What are you implying?”

August glanced up at him through his dark lashes.

“It started a few months ago…didn’t it?”

Olivier swallowed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

August dipped his voice down lower. “You don’t have to admit it, but you and I both know you have more at stake. You have something to lose. Sure, the other contestants are hungry for power and freedom, but you…you are fighting for more. Your memories. Your position here in Blackwood. Not to mention Emilio—”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Olivier said, seething, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“Fine.” August conceded with a shrug. “My point still stands. You don’t just have something to lose—you have everything to lose. And that gives you an edge. Something far more valuable than the desire for greatness.”