Immortal Consequences(96)

“Shh.” Wren grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him closer. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach, the heat spreading through his limbs. “I went to visit the eliminated nominees.”

“Okay…” August sighed, losing his patience. “I don’t really see how any of this is relevant, or quite frankly more important than—”

They weren’t there.

August stiffened. What do you mean?

None of them were there. But I saw Maya…she was visiting a friend. And when I asked her about the eliminated nominees—she had no idea who they were.

That’s ridiculous. August scoffed. Maya knows who they are—

Someone erased them from her memory.

August felt his hands go numb. What…would make you think that?

Wren glanced over her shoulder, her eyes landing on the Ascended. They were seated on an elevated platform, indulging in wine and an array of liquors. But they also seemed to be watching her and August, keeping tabs from a distance.

“We can’t keep talking into each other’s minds,” she whispered, turning back to face him. “They’re going to get suspicious if we’re just…staring at each other.”

She was right. But then the music swelled around them. The familiar triple meter of a waltz, the piano flowing through the air, amplified by a musical enchantment. It was in that moment that an idea came to August—an immensely stupid and reckless idea.

“We could”—he cleared his throat, glancing up at the ceiling—“dance.”

She blinked at him. “Me and you?”

“Yes, Loughty.”

“Oh.”

The look on her face was one of pure horror. God, he might as well have been asking her to murder her firstborn. He stretched out his open palm toward her. “Unless you have any other brilliant ideas?”

She shook her head. “None.”

August tensed as Wren slid her fingers through his, a warmth rushing into his chest. He drew her closer, laying his hand on her waist, settling it there cautiously. Every slight movement felt dangerous. Like balancing on the edge of a cliff.

He hated it.

Mainly, he hated how much he didn’t hate it.

The music swelled around them and August began to move, the familiar steps coming to him with surprising ease. It had been a while since he’d danced, those memories belonging to a life that barely felt like his own, but the movements were ingrained in his muscles, not so easily forgotten.

So…tell me, August whispered into her mind. What makes you think psyche magic has been involved?

I saw something in Maya’s eyes, Wren whispered back. A…fog.

August cursed under his breath. That does sound like mind alteration.

And then, earlier this week…Lou couldn’t remember them either. I thought it was just because she was new, but…there was also this nosebleed. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now…

We’ll have to tell the others. August’s eyes quickly scanned the dance floor, taking silent inventory of their surroundings. In private, obviously. There’s no telling who’s involved. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us—

You think one of the other nominees is doing it? Wren’s eyes widened. Why would they do something like that?

August shrugged. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

A few tense seconds of silence stretched between them as they continued to move across the dance floor, swaying in time with the music. It felt like an eternity before he heard Wren’s voice again, though this time it was out loud.

“You can dance.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

She smirked, and August averted his gaze. “Oh, come on. You don’t exactly strike me as the kind of person who can waltz on command.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he countered with a mocking grin.

“Using my own words against me?” Wren rolled her eyes. “How mature. You know, August, you’re not as mysterious as you believe you are.”

“Really?” He pulled her in with a sharp tug, and she let out a quiet yelp of surprise. Their movements didn’t falter, keeping time with the music as though an invisible thread connected their bodies.

“Tell me, Loughty.” His voice was husky and deep as he whispered the question into her ear. “Who am I, then?”

Her eyes burrowed into his. “You’re…somebody who avoids getting too close to people because you’re afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Them seeing you for who you actually are, and not whatever act you’ve decided to put on for the day.” Her eyes raked up and down his face, and August suppressed the urge to run in the opposite direction. It was like she was looking into his soul. Like she could see all the darkness rotting inside him. The parts he desperately wanted to conceal from her. “You’re not special, August. You’re a lost and broken soul. Just like the rest of us.”

August’s chest tightened. “Well, I guess you’ve got me figured out, then.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

Wren leaned in closer, her mouth hovering just below his ear. “Acting like you don’t care.”