“How are the other students?” I asked. “Have they come back yet?”
“They’re starting to trickle in. Everyone looks horrible – like they’ve been living feral for months. Court’s is holding court, of course.” He tried to smile at the feeble joke, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“They haven’t hurt Loretta or Andre?”
“Nope. They’re mostly standing around in a daze. The girls are gathered in Courtney’s room, whispering and crying and holding each other. I thought maybe Ataturk would like to go back with me in case it devolves into a pillow fight?” A hopeful eyebrow shot up as Quinn locked eyes with Ayaz.
Ayaz’s chest heaved as another spasm of pain shot through him. “Perhaps another time.”
“You two should go back to the dorms,” I said. “Your presence could do a lot of good. I don’t want them to think you abandoned them after our performance, lest they get any wild ideas about my loyalties.”
Trey plonked down in the wooden chair I’d left. “I’m staying right here.”
“Ditto.” Quinn pulled open the infirmary door. “I mean, I’m going to be outside, keeping watch in case anyone wants words with Hazy. But that’s basically here.”
Ayaz managed a shaky half-smile. “Thanks, guys. I probably would have missed you if I didn’t believe you’d been brainwashed by a witch named Hazel.”
The door closed behind Quinn. The audible click of the bolt sent a shiver down my spine, as if it foretold a void between us. I hoped Quinn knew he could find his way back to me, as soon as he was ready to step through the door and face what that meant.
Desperate for a distraction, I unlocked my phone. The screen flashed with messages from Deborah.
“How’s the production going?” she asked. “I haven’t heard anything. I hope that means things went without a hitch.”
A half-hour later. “Hazel, are you okay?”
“Hazel, please answer.”
“A ton of cars just sped down the peninsula and careened through town. A bunch of them pulled up at my hotel. Doors slamming. People yelling. A few are being carried on makeshift stretchers. They sound freaked out. WHAT HAPPENED?”
“What happened?” I texted back. “Oh, nothing. Just your typical night at Miskatonic Prep. The god showed up at our little production and gave a performance of his own. Now there’s a weird stone obelisk in the middle of the auditorium. Oh, and I got overwhelmed and burned some shit, but we knew that might happen. We’re all fine. Ayaz is burned, but he’s slowly recovering.”
Ayaz leaned over my shoulder. “How do you have a phone? And who’s that?”
“I have a phone because I’m not technically a student anymore, so I snuck a new one in. And I’m talking to Deborah. She’s a descendant of Rebecca Nurse and she used to work with Ms. West at Arkham General Hospital. It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when you have brain cells to spare to process it.”
A moment later, Deborah replied. “Phew. I’m so glad you’re okay. Don’t go dark like that again! Vincent Bloomberg arrived a while ago. Four men were carrying him because he’s all burned up, but he’s yelling at the other parents to join him in the woods. Do you want me to follow them?”
Fuck no. Don’t be an idiot, Deborah. I jabbed the screen so hard I worried I’d break it. “NO. Stay where you are. Lock your door. Don’t let them see you. If they recognize you, they’ll figure out we’re working together.”
My stomach tied in knots waiting for Deborah to reply. When it finally came through, it made me smile. “Okay, no amateur heroics. The dogs and I are going to lay low. If possible, can we meet tomorrow? I think you really need to see what I have to show you.”
I glanced at Trey. “Do you think you’d be up to lugging that sigil into Arkham? Deborah wants to meet. She’s still on about this important thing she needs to tell us.”
Trey leaned forward. “Does she have the dogs with her?”
He kept his voice nonchalant, but I noticed the glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Yes, they’re here, too. A bunch of the parents are staying in the Arkham Grand as well, so we’d have to wait until they leave and things have calmed down here. She doesn’t want to tell us over the phone.”
Trey nodded once, desperately trying not to betray his enthusiasm in front of me or Ayaz. Even in front of his friends, he still struggled with that need for control. If anything could break him of that habit, it would be Roger, Leopold, and Loeb – Deborah’s delightful dogs.
I typed out a response to Deborah, telling her to let us know when the coast was clear. I settled back into the pillow, placing my arm around Ayaz’s shoulders and staring down at him. Was it my imagination, or had the burns on his lower torso diminished a bit? I hoped so… a body that fine and a heart that broken didn’t deserve this cruelty.
Ayaz blinked. His dark eyes clouded with pain as another shudder rocketed through him. “I think… I should rest…”
“If you’re trying to kick us out, you can forget it.”
“Trust me, she’ll crowd you out of that bed, so you’ll need us on call to wrestle her back to her rightful place. Quinn and I are taking turns outside. Hazy, you need sleep. I know you didn’t get any last night, and there’s nothing you can do for the students right now.”
“We’ll make sure no one comes in,” added Quinn. “So close those eyes and dream of bathing naked with lots of sweaty guys in your harem.”
“A Turkish bath is called a Hammam, not a harem, and it is sacred. Don’t disrespect my culture…” Ayaz murmured, but he dozed off before he finished the thought.
“Yeah, Quinn. Get it right.” Trey squeezed my shoulder. “Hazel’s the one who has the harem.”
I snuggled in against Ayaz’s shoulder, pressing my lips to my forehead as he let out a tiny, adorable snore. Trey’s eyes bore into the back of my head, his gaze hot enough to make me melt. That was exactly what he was hoping to do – melt away the layers that protected me and expose the truth.
No one could lay me bare quite like Trey Bloomberg – my mirror. In his cruel smile, I saw the worst of myself, and also the best. As soon as Ayaz slipped into sleep, Trey’s eyes had me in his grip, and he wouldn’t let go until he had stripped me back to nothing.
“Hazel.” Trey’s voice was firm. “You have to talk about it.”
“About what?” I feigned innocence.
“About what Ms. West said on stage. About your mother and your friend and the…” even Trey struggled for words. “The fire that killed them.”
“What’s there to talk about? I ignited that fire. I killed them. I’m a murderer.”
I met Trey’s eyes with the fury of my own. I poured every last ounce of rage I could muster into that stare, willing him to see what I needed him to see.
I wanted Trey to squirm in his seat. I wanted him to back away from me in horror. I wanted him to accuse me of being a monster, to tell me what my heart already knew – that I was no good. That I was evil.
Because that was what I believed.
Instead, he shook his head, his throat making a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “You couldn’t control your powers. That’s not murder, Hazel. That’s a tragic accident.”
“Nope. That’s you trying to get me to escape responsibility, something you Kings are particularly skilled at. I can’t let myself off that easy.” Shit. My words wavered. I stared at my hands so I wouldn’t have to keep Trey’s eye contact. “You want to know the truth? In the moment, I wanted them to die.”
“So what?”
“That’s sick. That’s murder. I’m a murderer. Talking circles around it won’t make it any less true.”
“You’re determined to take the blame for that night, for all of it?” Trey’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “Even for what they did to you.”
“I’m not ‘determined’ to do anything, except to get your ass out of this hellhole they dare call a school. Let’s talk about that instead, because as far as I’m concerned the topic of the fire is well and truly burned out.�
�
I didn’t even apologize for the terrible pun.
“Fine.” But Trey didn’t talk. He stared at the wall, his face frozen in deep thought. Above my head, a clock ticked away the seconds. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Scritch-scritch-scritch.
Tick-tock-tick.
From inside the walls, the faint scratch of rats feet against wood and stone. I hadn’t heard them all night and now here they were, reassuring me that I’d done the right thing. Don’t let Trey get too close to you. Don’t let any of the Kings get close. Now that you know what’s happened, you can get them out of here, but to do that will mean you lose them forever. You might as well practice saying goodbye now—
“It’s not fair.”
Trey’s words thudded inside my head, each one stinging like a punch from one of my mother’s dead-end boyfriends.
“What’s not fair?”
“I finally have something in my life that’s good. I met this amazing girl. She doesn’t stand on fucking pretenses. Hell, half the time I’m convinced she was sent from the god himself to torture me. She constantly surprises me, but the good kind of surprises – the kind I’m not used to. I keep thinking that eventually she’ll wake up to the piece-of-shit I really am and kick me to the curb. But for some reason, she stays, and she looks at me in this way that makes me feel as if I must’ve done something right. This girl is the brightest spark in all my darkness, but she’s stuck in the past. She forgives everyone else for their shitty decisions and half-cocked impulses. She forgives her bullies for all the horrible shit they did to her, but she won’t forgive herself. She doesn’t believe she deserves forgiveness. But that’s not true. It can’t be true. If she can’t forgive herself, then how the hell is there any hope for me?” Trey’s icicle eyes stabbed me, twisting deep into my skin. “We’re exactly the same, Hazy. You believe I’m worth saving. I believe you’re worth saving. And one way or another, I’m going to make you see it for yourself.”
Before I could throw something at his sentimental ass, Trey Bloomberg rose from his seat, stalked to the door, flung it open and stalked out. It slammed behind him, the CRACK of wood splintering imperceptible over the fracturing of my wounded heart.
Chapter Eleven
Sleep must’ve found me in Ayaz’s arms. One moment, I was curled up beside him, carefully avoiding touching his healing flesh as I watched his chest rise and fall, the next I lay on a cold stone floor. A familiar, unearthly pulse tingled the ends of my fingers where they touched the stone.
As I sat up, a wave of hatred rolled over me, crawling over my skin and standing every hair on end.
The god is in the house.
By way of greeting, he offered up a cacophony of screams that echoed between my ears. Torches flared to life along the walls. As my eyes adjusted to the burst of light, I saw the platform in front of me, the chains hanging loose and the doors flung open. The god remained inside, but his presence seemed… closer. Lighter. Almost… jovial.
I have not feasted for many days. It has been difficult, for I have been offered delicious fruits of your race. My grip on the waking world grows weaker. But I made you a promise, and I am a truth-teller.
He means Greg and Zehra. They’re still safe, no thanks to Ms. West. I folded my arms across my chest in the hopes I could hide the pounding of my heart. “Good. Thank you for keeping your end of our bargain. I am working on keeping mine. I gotta ask, though. What’s the deal with the ugly-ass obelisk? If you’re so weak, how could you make that giant thing rise up?”
It spoke little of my self-preservation skills that I’d just called the god’s architectural statement ‘ugly-ass.’ The god turned in his prison, sending a fresh wave of nausea-inducing horror from the open trapdoor. A sound like blood bubbling from a wound reached my ears – is that… laughter?
Did the god find this amusing?
“What?” I demanded. “Tell me.”
It is a figment from a time long past, that had almost been forgotten even by me. It was hidden, but your power revealed it.
I sighed. I guess we’re having another incomprehensible conversation. “Fine, so it’s my fault, as usual. What is the pillar?”
It is a piece.
“A piece of what?”
A piece of the star-journey. There are other pieces, also hidden. You will reveal them in time, as we grow closer.
An involuntary shudder pulsed through my skin. I knew what I’d promised the god – that he would set the students free as long as I joined him as his consort – and I would promise it a thousand times over if it meant saving my Kings, but the thought of being closer to it… I swallowed hard against the bile fighting its way from my stomach. “You say you are a truth-teller, but you weren’t being truthful to me before. You didn’t tell me you were trying to make children.”
I did not make a lie. I said their souls were given to me, and they didn’t know pain as you do. I did this only to protect my nest. It does not matter now that my race will continue.
“That’s not fair. They didn’t ask to be your children. You took their lives without permission.”
What child asks to be born? Their own parents pushed them away. I took what was unwanted and I gave them gifts greater than they could ever wish for. I protect them and send my servants to guard them. Their descendants will rule over this galaxy from their castles made of stars. It is an honor to be chosen.
He had a point – from where he sat, what he offered the Miskatonic Prep students did seem better than what they had.
“You won’t give them up,” I said, understanding dawning. “When the time comes, you won’t give me what we agreed. You love them.”
I do not understand. They are my children. Their souls have given me these… feelingsss. I could not leave them even if it were possible to return to the stars, or if it were possible to bring back the one who is my twin.
The one who was his twin – for a moment I thought he meant me, but then I remembered what Ms. West had said. The god came to our galaxy with a mate, but she died on the journey. “You mean your soulmate? When you came to our galaxy, you weren’t alone. You had another like you.” Like Noah’s Ark… all the cosmic gods, two by two.
The god’s pain welled inside me as a deep and fathomless hole. I teetered on the edge of his loss, flailing my arms to keep from falling in, to becoming lost in his misery. We danced among the stars, and their brightness lit the cosmos – a lantern to guide our way. But your universe was so far, and I had no brightness of my own. My twin burned and burned until their light faded, but I wanted so badly to reach the shores of our new home. I wanted to be first among us. I drove us onward, until their brightness was swallowed up in the cold depths of nothing. Their light went out. It was just me.
I clutched my heart as his anguish cut through me. My mother’s face flickered across my eyes – her hair ringed in orange fire. It was my mother, and yet it was not her. Her face wasn’t quite right. There was another image beneath her – I could only see the edges of it, only enough to know it wasn’t something that could be seen with human eyes. But it was the same. Because the god and I were the same. We’d both lost the people we love.
Because we are the murderers.
This was why he craved me and not Loretta. Because Loretta had no love for the man she killed. Because the god could not understand her emotions, but he knew mine all too well.
I sucked in a breath. My mother’s angelic face continued to stare at me, her eyes haunted, edged with the god’s inky darkness – the memory of his own crime had fused with mine, becoming one singular horror. “What you’re describing is love – or as close an approximation as your race can get. You loved your soul twin, and you love your children. You want to hold them close, to protect them, to watch them grow up, to make sure their light never goes out. But your children are my friends, and I love them, and you promised you would free them if I found a way.”
I promised. I am a truth-sayer. I lov
e them and I will lose them, because I promised you. You must keep your promise. You must stay with me and be my new soul-twin.
“I haven’t forgotten.” Another shiver rocked my body. I hugged my arms around myself, trying to shut out the wave of jubilant despair the god threw my way. “I know you used the fire to give part of yourself to your children, and you took a piece of them in return. If I made you another fire, could you just swap the pieces back again?”
If I were to take back the spirit pieces, I would be tainted by their… feelingsss. I would not be able to make more children. We would be lonely together, you and I, without children.
I thought I understood. The pieces could be switched, but then the god would be so broken that he could not continue his race. And that was his whole reason for coming to our planet in the first place. He was supposed to colonize our universe.
I tapped my chin. “What if I found you some other vessels to be your children? What if they were better?”
Yesss. The god’s voices crackled between my ears, the sound like an ice shelf breaking into the sea. I could take my gifts from my children and give them to others, as long as they were worthy.
A slow grin spread across my face. “I have the perfect candidates in mind. You tell me what you need, and I will make it happen. Mr. God, I think you and I finally have a plan.”
Chapter Twelve
I woke to shooting pain down one side of my neck from sleeping curled around Ayaz’s body. Quinn slouched in the chair, his chin against his chest and an ugly sword he probably stole from that suit of armor in the faculty wing resting across his lap. He must have traded places with Trey during my slumber.
I reached across and poked him in the arm. Quinn snorted and leaped to his feet, crushing his back against the wall as he surveyed me with wild eyes. The sword clattered uselessly to the floor.
Ignited: a reverse harem bully romance (Kings of Miskatonic Prep Book 4) Page 7
