Immortal Consequences(72)

“Not a chance.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” August’s voice shook. “Nothing.”

She glanced up, gathering all the energy she had left to peel her eyes open and stare at the outline of August’s face. There was that little scar etched into the skin beneath his eye, a line of scar tissue adorning his right cheekbone. She lifted a shaking hand, desperate to trace it, to feel it against the tip of her finger, but August seemed to be fading, drifting farther and farther from her grasp.

“Look at me.” August’s voice was hoarse. Desperate. “Wren. Please. Open your eyes and look at me.”

She smiled. “It would take me dying for you to call me by my first name.”

“You’re not—” His breath hitched in his throat, silence reverberating in the space between them.

“It was my fault,” Wren rasped, eyelids fluttering closed. “I shouldn’t have let her drive. I should—I should have kept her safe.”

“Tell me about it when we get back to Blackwood.”

“I can’t.”

“For fuck’s sake—” He was using magic. She could taste it in the air. “Look at me, darling. Open your eyes. Please.”

“My hands are covered in blood.”

“There’s no blood. You’re not bleeding.”

Wren wanted to tell August that it wasn’t her blood she felt, but that the blood ran so deep through her that some nights she couldn’t bear to be inside her own skin. That some nights, when nothing else brought her respite, she still prayed to a God she didn’t believe in to strike her down and put her out of her misery.

The last thing she heard was August’s voice as the world grew dark.

Please. Don’t leave me.

33

Olivier

Emilio slumped to his knees as he finished reaping his target soul, a shaky breath rattling his chest. Olivier looked on with sympathy. It was the same nauseating exhaustion he felt coursing through his own limbs—like his muscles had been coated in concrete, his head wrapped with iron chains.

Olivier approached him and gently placed his hand upon his shoulder.

“Are you all right?”

Emilio flinched. “I’m…I’m fine.”

Olivier knew he was lying, concealing his true feelings for Olivier’s benefit. He’d felt it since the earthquake. Emilio was terrified. It made Olivier feel irritatingly helpless. There must be something he could do to help Emilio. Words he could string together to fix whatever had broken inside him.

He’d been seconds away from making a terrible joke in the hope of making Emilio laugh when an arched door materialized in front of them. It was made of red brick and thorned ivy, golden beams of light swirling beneath the surface.

“Well…” Olivier helped Emilio onto his feet. “Looks like we’re done.”

Emilio hesitated, staring up at the door with a sullen expression.

“August never came back for us.”

“I’m sure he tried.”

“Doubt it.”

“To be fair, I can’t seem to locate him either,” Olivier said. It was true. He’d attempted quite a few times since they got separated, and hadn’t been able to find August. It was as though Olivier’s internal map had been messed with. “Everything is hazy. Probably one of Silas’s tricks.”

Emilio sighed.

“Maybe.”

God—he looked so drained. So exhausted. Olivier had an almost uncontrollable urge to wrap his arms around Emilio and hold him together. But something about the strangely detached look in Emilio’s eyes led him to believe that what he really needed was space. And though it physically pained Olivier to be away from him, he would happily distance himself from Emilio if it would make him feel better.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.” He gestured toward the door and mustered a strained smile. “After you?”

Emilio nodded feebly and stepped forward. He offered Olivier one final look before opening the door and walking through it. Olivier followed after him, perhaps only a few seconds behind, and crossed through the door.

He passed the threshold, appearing back in Blackwood. It took him a moment to orient himself, a bit dazed from the crossing. He looked around and realized he had been transported a few yards from the main gates.

Emilio, however, was nowhere to be found.

Panic instantly sparked inside him.

Calm down, Olivier. There was no need to worry. The door probably transported everyone to a different area in Blackwood, and Emilio must simply be across campus somewhere.

Or maybe it’s another trick.

No. They had completed the trial. They had done everything they were supposed to do.

The only thing Olivier could do now was make his way back to the Opal Chamber and wait for the remaining nominees. He was certain Emilio would be there. He was certain he was perfectly— A loud crackling sound interrupted his thoughts. Like a distant clap of thunder.

In his periphery, he noticed a blurry haze of movement flickering through the fog, the vague outline of something, or someone, crossing through the entry gates and stumbling deeper into the grounds. The rational part of his brain told him to ignore the disruption, to stay focused and head to the Opal Chamber.