by Anne Zoelle
Olivia, Will, Neph, and Constantine completed the knowledge set.
“Your shield set. Verisetti did it, didn't he?”
“He saturated me in his magic,” I said bitterly. “Before I Awakened. The shield set that Marsgrove gave me was created, at its base, by Raphael.” Like everything else that I had in this world seemed to be.
Dare's gaze lifted to the top of my head. “It's untainted magic. Created long ago—maybe here at Excelsine. Marsgrove and Verisetti were best friends and roommates.”
My heart stuttered over this new information. “I...noticed they seemed to know each other well.”
“My uncle attended at the same time they did, though he was a few years behind. Verisetti had a brilliant group of friends, many of whom are still affiliated with Excelsine.” He watched me carefully, waiting for me to figure out the connections.
Stevens. My professor, my mentor. It wasn't a shock—I had guessed she might know Raphael—but I still felt the confirmation like a blow.
Dare’s gaze switched back to my hair. “One of Verisetti's gifts is in protection magic.”
“Ironic,” I said bitterly.
“Protection magic can be switched to destruction as easily as healing magic can be used for killing. The skill is the same—the intent and application are what matter.”
“He's good at destruction.”
“Verisetti skirted the edge of being labeled a rare when studying here. Combined with his artistic gifts, he was tested for Origin talent. He barely failed and it is very little wonder that he can wield your magic. Julian said Verisetti was getting called back in to be tested as a Protection Prodigy when he disappeared.”
Unease slid through me. “The Department took him. Stavros. They experimented on him.”
Dare's gaze sharpened. “Verisetti told you that?”
That wasn't a part of the conversation Dare had overheard then.
“I think Raphael wants me to kill Prestige Stavros,” I said numbly.
Lightning fast, Dare leaned forward and grabbed my wrist. His gaze unfocused. Talking to someone via frequency. “Don't tell anyone that. Don't tell anyone that, do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, panicked by his reaction.
His lips tightened at my immediate response. “You don't understand. But you need to believe me. Stavros never leaves the Department, and no one ever knows quite where he is within it. He continuously travels as a parasite. His hosts have been assassinated more times than the press can count—each time the assassins thought it might finally be him beneath the spells—and each time they were wrong.”
I nodded, not really comprehending such notions.
“It is absolutely possible that Verisetti has triggered you as a sleeper agent somehow—that he did so during your Awakening. Such a plan makes brilliant sense. Stavros wants you. He will do anything to get you.”
“Kaine—”
“Kaine is dangerous. And remorseless. And one day Stavros will need to watch his back. But not yet. Kaine will carry out his commands. Stavros holds more power than anyone in the Second Layer. Dressed up as protector and spouting concern for the people—no one can get to him. And anyone who does, doesn't end up right afterward.”
I licked suddenly chapped lips.
“If he gets you, Ren, even if you are triggered to kill him, he has ways of...altering such things. You will not survive the Department. Do you understand? And even with Stevens on your side—maybe especially with Stevens on your side—you won't be able—” Dare touched his head sharply, nearly wincing. It was worrying to see him wince at anything.
His other hand was still wrapped around my wrist and it clenched then loosened, but didn't let go. “Later. What else did you make in your Awakening?”
“I...blacked out. Other than the picture, I only know of the box and the portal pad.” I bit my lip. “The pad works in the First Layer. Marsgrove had a pretty terrible reaction to its existence.” Will, on the other hand, had been over the moon.
“The box?” Dare's gaze was penetrating. “The one Verisetti has been carrying around for the past few months?”
“It's a conduit to my magic. In some way. A leech and a way to translate the magic for Raphael, I think. I mean when Con leeched me, he had—”
“When Constantine what?”
“—had, er, already been studying my magic...” I trailed off on that very concerning note. I had forgotten momentarily that Dare wasn't in the “know” category on the leeches.
“Leandred leeched you?”
“I gave him permission.” Sort of. A few of the times, at least.
“I'll end him.” He started to rise. His fingers slipped free of my wrist and I immediately clamped my hand around his before he could leave.
Here we'd been talking about Raphael and the world-ending powers I had seemingly given him, and Stavros, who was like the ultimate villain, and he was going to go crush Constantine for leeching me?
“You will do nothing,” I said.
“I've turned the other cheek a thousand times. But not on this.”
I could feel his magic vibrating under his skin. The vibrations would be an implicit warning to any mage touching him that he was dangerous. He usually kept his magic reined in pretty tightly—only the aura of it enveloping him. It was always a bit heady being around him when he loosened the reins. There was so much.
I gripped his hand more tightly. “With the exception of Raphael, everyone else who has leeched me has done so with good intentions.” I deliberately maintained eye contact with him.
Dare had called his mother a natural leech with her Bridge powers. And Dare had used and manipulated my magic to keep me from revealing myself to the Peacekeepers' Troop. He had used his hidden skill on Top Circle to keep Kaine from outing me—at great personal expense both times. It would be devastating for him to be caught displaying Bridge abilities.
But Dare was far too incensed for me to ask why he was putting himself out for me.
“Everyone else? What exactly have you been doing? I thought all those weird pulls on your magic were because you were making more illegal, living creations in the Midlands. Leeches?” He drew his free hand over his face. “Yes, that's exactly what those pulls were. But I never thought you'd do that.”
It was like having a friend who knew all the bad things you did and disapproved of exactly half of them.
I let go of his hand in order to push the hair from my forehead. A telling, nervous gesture from me. “We were building leeches in order to unlock Raphael's. Raphael has—had—one on me. From my Awakening. That enabled him to take my magic remotely. The box. Constantine was only trying to help me.”
At least, he had been after the initial leech. I thought it better to keep mum on Constantine leeching me in the First Layer for his own ends.
I could see the pieces of the stuttered puzzle assembling in Dare's quick, strategy-driven mind and I sought to direct the conversation away from Constantine.
“The thing with you—that helped me piece it together,” I said quickly. “It unlocked a single link of Raphael's chain. I think that's why Raphael in the guise of Emrys started getting so testy. His work was unraveling around him.”
Dare gave a short laugh, his expression dark. “All of the attacks in the last few months. The lack during the last few weeks. Did Leandred know? Who the Emrys on campus was?”
“No. Not before today. It was a...very unpleasant surprise. I have a feeling that they'd spoken a few times on campus.”
“I'll bet Verisetti loved that. Constantine has been stalking him for years.”
It wasn't really much of a surprise that Dare would know that. He obviously knew Constantine very well in some ways. I wondered if he realized he had switched to calling him by his first name for a moment.
But yes, Raphael had undoubtedly been delighted to be right under Constantine's nose. Until the end. “He was very displeased with Constantine right before you showed up. The worst of Constantine's woun
ds were inflicted when Raphael revealed himself.”
“Serves him right,” Dare said bitterly. He cut a hand through my automatic denial. “No. I can read the signs on campus of what happened. And I can feel the magic. Leandred was clever about it. He's always clever about it. Nothing to tie him to the crime. Everything he did to set this up, he then overrode with spells that 'helped.'”
I swallowed.
“And you are covering for him.”
“I...” I didn't know what to say. Additionally, the words about Constantine accompanying me to find Olivia, if he woke, were stuck somewhere between the guilt in my gut and the apprehension in my throat.
Dare froze. “You were not thinking of taking him with you?”
It should be more than mildly concerning that Dare had somehow made that jump based on a single trailing letter of the alphabet, but my apprehension and guilt combined into a super emotion of anxiety in my chest, and wiped away anything else for the moment.
“Yes,” I said, voice going a little high.
“No.”
“It—”
“Ren, you can't be serious.”
“I know you don't trust Constantine,” I said. Dare gave me a look of disbelief. “I know no one does. But he will keep his word once given. He always keeps his word.”
He just didn't give his word very often.
Sort of nearly never, really.
Dare said nothing, and only the pulses from the threads that connected us let me know what he might be thinking. Acknowledgment—he actually believed that last statement to be true. Grim determination—probably not in Constantine's favor. Hatred.
Then he went blank. His expression, the connection threads, everything.
“Fine,” he said, voice entirely calm.
I blinked, then narrowed my eyes. “Really?”
He smiled. “Really.”
I could read nothing but calm honesty from him. “You are scary.”
His smile dropped. “You should never forget what I am,” he said, his expression remote, his gaze never leaving mine.
“The guy who saves my life all the time?”
He didn't respond. He just stared at me with that remote gaze. I didn't like it.
“I think I'm scarier?” I prompted.
He rolled his eyes, and the tension dropped from him like a heavy coat shed in a warm room. Easy, tranquil feelings were once more resonating between us. It was a heady relief.
“Do you warn everyone away from you?” I asked.
“I don't bother speaking to most people,” he said dismissively, magic igniting in his hand.
“You are seriously awful.” But slipping into regular banter like this was comforting. Like everything was okay, and Olivia was fine, just waiting to give me hell for mooning over Alexander Dare again.
He smiled.
“Seriously awful,” I reiterated.
But truthful. He didn't bother speaking to most people. Even after saving me from the reading room at the beginning of my first term at Excelsine, he'd barely spared me a glance. And he'd only spared me the glance at all because my magic had fought him, and actually given him a fight. He'd barely responded with a dismissive hand wave to Peters, who had been uttering an obsequious Justice Squad litany of thanks to him.
Like Bautermann. The Second Layer superhero who saved everyone, but didn't allow himself to care about any of those he saved.
“Whatever you are thinking has your face all scrunched up.” His fingers pulled the edges of my eyebrows upward out of their frown.
I blinked at him through the frame of his fingers, and he smirked back, releasing me slowly.
“I have—” he started to say. But then his gaze narrowed suddenly and his body tilted toward the door.
A forcible rapping made my head jerk in that direction as well. I ran the quick identification spell on the door and caught my breath.
Marsgrove, Helen Price, and an unidentified Department stooge stood on the other side.
Chapter Six: Of Those Most Hated
“If she doesn't answer,” the cold feminine voice said from the hallway. “Then we will be within our rights to enter forci—”
I yanked open the door. Marsgrove, Helen Price, and a Department stooge stared directly at me.
My heart stuttered for a second. Raphael's spell wasn't working on me anymore. Helen Price could see me.
My gaze met hers and sizzling hatred passed through me. Good.
Iced blonde and elegant, Helen Price smiled coldly and tilted her head, her arctic eyes taking me in and filing every piece of information. She had to be in her upper forties, but she had an ageless look. Likely a side effect of whatever deals she had already struck with the devil.
Her sharp gaze dropped to my clenched hands and her eyes narrowed in abrupt cognition. “Certain things become apparent.”
The woman who had given birth to my extremely intelligent roommate had an equally agile brain.
“I do wonder what would happen should I test any spells that have been recently laid upon me,” she mused. Her gaze met mine and I could see the promised retribution in the depths of her soulless eyes.
Dare, hidden from their view, didn't make a sound, but I felt him shift.
“Interesting, but irrelevant at this time,” Marsgrove said coolly. “We have other things to discuss, Miss Crown.”
I did not want this woman in our room, but I could clearly read Marsgrove's expression, and it said not to argue. I nodded stiffly and stepped away from the door.
Marsgrove and Helen entered, while the stooge planted himself in the hall, facing outward to guard the room. Marsgrove closed the door, sealing the four of us inside.
Helen Price's gaze immediately zeroed in on the fourth, unexpected occupant in the room.
“Mr. Dare.” Helen Price's gaze was calculating at seeing Dare sprawled out in my chair. Marsgrove's expression, on the other hand, didn't change. I'd bet anything he had known Dare was here already—through Administrative Magic or from Julian Dare.
“Councilwoman Price,” Dare said.
“We need to take Miss Crown's statement now, Mr. Dare. If you'd be so kind.” She motioned toward the door with a small, empty smile.
“You need to take mine as well,” Dare said casually, his ever-present ball of blue magic once more at hand as he slowly rolled it across my desk with his palm. “Now you don't have to go through the trouble of finding us both.”
I swallowed, watching him. The timing of his presence in my room had been no mistake. Marsgrove's as well. There were layers here that I didn't yet comprehend. Each of the three facing me had obvious motivations and also ones that were insidiously hidden.
I glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes remained before the muses and Visiting Center inhabitants—which included nearly all of my friends—were released. The Department, sending Helen, had hoped to get to me before any help returned.
Dare had timed his visit to the same clock. He had purposely not gone to the Visiting Center.
Marsgrove nodded. “Both of you were on scene at the end of the conflict, and there are questions about that. Your presence here is satisfactory.”
Helen smiled—all teeth. “Very well.”
She took in everything on Olivia's desk, focused on the ink drying on the wall, then looked to my side of the room. “How interesting that I didn't see you or your things when last I was here. Curious, that everything was so bland on your side of the room, when now I see how colorful you keep it.” She said colorful as if I had tacked loaves of moldy bread on the walls.
Raphael's spell had prevented anyone in the Department from noticing me. Unhooking that spell had obvious consequences, but I couldn't regret it. Raphael had used my magic to do unspeakable horrors. Better for me to be locked up in a government basement somewhere.
Letting them use me to do unspeakable horrors?
I shuddered. Okay. No. I needed an option three, where no one was using me to do terrible things.
I was just l
ucky that whatever magic Marsgrove had wrought to allow only Helen Price into my room, and not Stavros, Kaine, or any others, had been applied. Not that Marsgrove would have done that for me, considering how much he detested me.
Helen moved around the room, almost absently, but as she touched our stuff, little zings of magic darted from her fingertips. Like she was marking items. Marking items in our territory. Putting who knew what magic on Olivia's things, and on our room.
She walked over to my desk, disregarding Dare's large, dangerous, sprawled presence in the chair, and touched the edge of the desk before I finally stepped forward, forcing her to step back, not caring how aggressive she thought the action.
“Mmmm, it's as if you have something to hide, Miss Crown.”
“I do not recall reading anything that said you have the right to touch anything of mine.”
My roommate, included.
Her eyes narrowed. “Phillip, I feel quite uncomfortable. I think I would be far more pleased to conduct this interview in the safety of the Department.”
“We will continue here until such time that Miss Crown oversteps herself.” Marsgrove sounded dismissive, but there was a clear warning to me in his posture.
Helen smirked and pulled out a tablet. “You have been my daughter's roommate for how long now, Miss Crown?”
“Two terms.”
“And yet, I see no record of you as her roommate last term.” She tapped the tablet.
“My academic record has undergone a few mishaps.”
“Yes, I see that it has.” She was looking straight at me, so the tablet was likely a prop and her information was coming by means other than visual. It suddenly made me aware that the three of us were probably not the only ones in on this conversation.
My hands turned clammy, half expecting Stavros's head to pop up on her shoulder in some grotesque parody of paternal concern.
“You appear to be a constant drain on the university's vast resources, Miss Crown. Two thousand hours of community service.” She shook her head. “I do think there are things that I need to discuss with Provost Johnson.”
“Helen, Excelsine is not under your command,” Marsgrove said in clipped tones, and my eyes widened at the clear warning in his voice—a warning not aimed at me for once.
