27. Lily
LILY
In the chaos, Lily grabbed a small wooden box, emptied it of what looked to be pyrite, and scooped the wolves—who were now frantically pacing—into it before following Seb out of the lab.
In the hallway, Beaumont beat noxious smoke out of her beautiful clothes and fired cantrip after cantrip at herself.
Gemma looked like she wanted to either scream or cry, and kill someone, probably Braithwhite.
Looking ashen, Sebastian rubbed his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
She wasn’t sure if he said it to her or his roommates. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“We’ll wait—”
“Go ahead.” She shook her head, cutting him off.
He was so tired he didn’t even argue. “Okay. Millay 919.”
She threaded through the crowded hall and down to the quiet of the lower-level restroom.
She was just placing the box on the counter, crouching to check on the wolves, when the door creaked open behind her.
Beaumont stood there, lit from behind. Lily opened her mouth to venture a “hello,” until the door sealed with a cantrip.
She stiffened, ready to run, fight, whatever.
Her magic flared, molten and willing, inside her chest.
“What have you done to Sebastian?”
Up close, Beaumont was much taller than her, her heels pushing her near six feet.
Lily gaped. “What?”
“What are you playing at? What’s your endgame here?”
“I…” The question baffled Lily into silence. “He’s just my lab partner,” she said lamely. It wasn’t true, and clearly Beaumont knew it, but she wasn’t sure what else Beaumont thought it was.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Beaumont said, her voice reminding Lily of the tiny wolves, the way they circled. “You’re clearly intelligent, so there’s no way you’re spending all this time doing homework. What are you trying to get out of him? Money? Influence? He’s a human, not a golden ticket.”
He hasn’t told them about the rest. Why was she surprised? Why did the sudden knowledge sting?
“N-nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, then tell me.”
She was sure, in that moment, that Beaumont would hurt her if she thought it necessary. She was the most intimidating of the three of them, statuesque and beautiful, with knife-honed features and clothes draped like armor.
Lily backed up against the counter, woozy and exhausted.
“It’s not mine to tell,” she whispered. It was half-true, at least.
“Then what’s your curse?”
Her face drained of blood. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
One or both of them smelled like sulfur. It turned Lily’s stomach. She fixed her eyes on her backpack.
“Look at me.” Beaumont’s golden eyes blazed in the dim light. “Sebastian is my best friend, and I don’t care what he thinks you are or aren’t. I will do whatever it takes to protect him. So. Tell me. Your curse.”
“It doesn’t affect him!” Her voice sounded frantic and pathetic. Underneath her sweater, she’d broken out in a cold sweat, the smell of panic wafting around her.
“Fine. Swear it then. Swear that whatever your curse is, it won’t affect him.” The air around Beaumont’s offered hand sizzled gold with a binding spell, powerful magic. Too powerful. She had planned this.
You will lose that which you hold most precious.
“I swear it,” she whispered hoarsely, completely drained. Her throat hitched, and then, horribly, she was crying. No, no. But she couldn’t get a hold of herself. It was exhaustion, and fear, and low blood sugar, and everything she’d never have, all piling on top of each other.
“Oh.” Beaumont took a step back, lowering her hand, the spell dissipating, wasted. “Shit.”
Lily turned away, hunching, trying to hide her frogged-up face. The tears kept coming. No one had made her cry publicly in years. She was supposed to be better than this, stronger than this.
“Here.” Beaumont thrust a handful of paper towels at her. “I’m sorry, I just…”
Finally, Lily’s rage surfaced, cold and brittle. “Go away.”
“Look, I didn’t mean—”
The anger flared through her, consuming everything else, even as she sobbed, “You got what you wanted, now GO AWAY!” Unintended spontaneous magic erupted in her final words, slamming open the stall doors and rattling the windows in their casings. It threw Beaumont’s silky dark hair around her face.
Eyes wide, Beaumont went.
Later that night, as she was curled up eating dinner on the couch while her mom watched TV and the wolves slept curled together on the arm of the sofa, a creamy box filled with gorgeous macarons arrived on the porch. Blinking through her confusion, Lily flipped open the note:
I’m sorry.
V.B.