Immortal Consequences(84)

“She’s not.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I just know.”

“But how can you—”

“I dipped into her mind.”

Masika startled, her jaw slackening in surprise. “You used psyche magic on her? Even though everyone said not to?”

“Oh, don’t be so scandalized.” Irene snatched the knife from Masika’s hand and tossed it into the air. It froze, suspended in the space between them. “You agreed with me the other night, remember?”

Masika bit the inside of her cheek, clearly displeased with Irene’s rule-breaking. But what had she been expecting? Irene wasn’t about to risk everything just because the rest of the group was too cowardly to do what needed to be done. So, after everyone had left the Opal Chamber, parting ways and retreating to their dormitories, Irene had snuck into Louise’s room and scoured her mind while she slept.

“Well?” Masika sighed. “What did you see?”

“A whole lot of nothing.” The knife dropped from its place in the air and soared straight into Irene’s hands. “Other than some lingering thoughts about her family and whatnot. But nothing pertaining to shadow magic. It seems like she really has no clue how she was able to cast it.” It had honestly been rather disappointing. Irene had been hoping for something—a devious lie, or some good blackmail at the very least—but the girl seemed to be truly clueless.

“I don’t buy that,” Masika countered. “I just…I have this gut feeling. I just know the Demien Order is involved somehow.”

Irene suddenly became overly aware of the locket on her neck. The weight of it an unwelcome burden. She knew Masika couldn’t see the locket, that it was hidden beneath Mateo’s enchantment, but a part of her feared that Masika could somehow sense it. If there was anyone capable of looking right into Irene’s deepest fears—into her very soul—it was Masika.

“Masi.” Irene spoke her name slowly, placing her hands upon Masika’s shoulders. “I think you might be indulging your fantasies a bit. Overthinking the situation, as you usually do. And either way, I have far more important things to focus on right now…” She dropped her hands and wandered over to her wardrobe, opening the large wooden doors. Inside hung a deep-indigo dress that glittered with starlight. “Like putting on this dress and looking ridiculously hot.”

Masika didn’t respond, her eyes slightly glazed over. And then she blinked, stumbling back toward the door.

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered under her breath.

“What are you talking about?” Irene scoffed. “The ball starts in an hour!”

Masika ignored Irene’s protests and made for the door. “I’ll be back before then.”

“Don’t you dare flake out on me, Masika Sallow!”

Masika waved to Irene over her shoulder, twiddling her fingers. “Save me a dance!”

Irene rolled her eyes, flopping back onto the bed. She wasn’t an idiot. Masika was up to something—that much was clear. Under normal circumstances, Irene would probably have found a way to follow her and see what her friend was up to, but it turned out that some time alone was just what Irene had been hoping for.

There was someone she needed to speak with.

Her hand landed on the locket once more as she unclasped the metal hinge. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she swore she heard the faintest whisper as she opened it, a muffled voice. As though somebody were calling out to her.

She closed her eyes and whispered his name.

“Mateo.”

When she opened them, she was no longer alone.

“You’re here.”

Mateo stood leaning against the door to her room, a soft smile on his face.

“You said the magic word.”

He’d appeared before her cloaked in a palette of darkness—dark pants and a black T-shirt, the shadows running through his veins plainly visible.

The moment lingered, stretching out between them. Irene propped herself on her elbows.

“Tell me about the shadow creature.”

Mateo’s smile deepened, dimples sprouting on his cheeks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. What was that thing? And who brought it into Blackwood?”

Mateo didn’t answer. He simply stepped closer, twirling a tangle of shadows between his fingers.

“You know, Irene…” His voice was low, with a foreboding edge. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions for someone who still hasn’t agreed to work with me.”

He wanted to intimidate her, that much was clear. And though a small sliver of apprehension curled around Irene’s throat, it would take a little more than a couple of shadows for her to cower under his gaze.

“And you’re being awfully cryptic for someone I could easily give up,” she shot back without hesitation, sitting up. “Has it not occurred to you that I could stroll right up to Silas and tell him there’s a Demien milling about the dorms?”

Mateo didn’t even flinch. In fact, his face…softened. The teasing smile turning into one of understanding.

“You wouldn’t.”

“And what makes you so sure?”