Chapter 30
Thirty
Elodie
“It would have looked amazing on you, Elle,” Cadance gushes as we head down the hall toward Defensive Magic class.
She hooks her hand around my elbow to lean conspiratorially closer, but I hardly hear the rest of her story about a new season of designer dresses she got to preview over the weekend.
My friends and their voices feel far away beyond the droning uneasiness inside me. I’m stuck in my own personal Bermuda Triangle.
I haven’t heard from Cole since he berated me in the basement storage room yesterday. Haven’t been able to tune out the memory of his harsh voice cutting into me.
“Go home and stay out of trouble.”
Like I’m a stupid, useless kid, even more inept than the spoiled cheater he saw me as a few weeks ago.
I woke up his glim without fear because I trust him. Because I know him. Was it too much to hope that he’d trust me even if he doesn’t know this version of me well yet?
That he’d to try to understand my reasoning rather than lashing out at me the first moment he’s uncomfortable?
Yes, it took my original Cole nearly ages to fully accept our relationship… but he was never cruel, not after he knew I was his match. He always treated me so carefully, even if a lot of the time that meant keeping his distance.
Even after the catastrophe of his glim sparking in my old reality—the equipment he smashed in wolfish form and the assistant who died the next day—he never aimed any of his frustration at me.
Of course, in that world I’d had no more idea what to expect than he did. I don’t think either version of Cole likes feeling like an oblivious student rather than the well-informed teacher.
It must really piss him off that I knew one critical secret about himself before he did.
Mia’s chirpy tone breaks through my gloomy reverie. “We should all go grab dinner there Saturday night! It’ll be amazing.”
She grins at me, and I smile back, my mind scrambling to piece together what topic they switched to.
Stella speaks before I need to answer. “This month’s Blossom-Bounty joint social is that night. We should probably make an appearance after all the club meetings we’ve missed.”
She has a point. Our intensive combat seminars, and my poisoning and various excuses after, have meant I’ve been hugely neglecting some of Other Elodie’s extracurricular obligations.
I aim my smile at Stella with a dollop of gratitude that she covered for my distraction, whether she realized it or not.
She doesn’t even look at me. She hasn’t acted angry since the day I told her off, but her attitude has stayed cool as a yuki-onna. Like she’s put up a wall of ice between her and me, within sight but untouchable.
It shouldn’t bother me, but the chill niggles at me anyway.
I’ve developed a real talent for pissing off people in this reality.
What Stella actually said fully sinks in, and I have to suppress a grimace. The thought of attending another joint social, where I’ll have to pretend I don’t want to dance with either of my matches who might be there and endure hours of gossip about every schoolmate around us, turns my stomach.
I think I might rather battle knife-wielding maniacs. Would it be too much to ask for neither?
Closing my eyes for a second, I inhale slowly. I have all I need. I have all I need.
The churning inside me eases slightly with the mantra.
As we pass a fork in the halls, a tug resonates through my palm. Through my bond mark.
With a skip of my pulse, I close my fingers against the spot. The tug comes again, gentle but insistent.
Salvatore. When I concentrate, I can taste his fiercely buoyant energy through the beckons.
Radiants only know what he’ll do if I don’t respond. Anyway, I want to.
I drift to a halt and yank open my satchel, then let out a groan for show. “Scald it. I left my imbuing project in my locker. I’d better run and get it—I’ll see the rest of you in class.”
Cadance tries to wave off my concern. “Oh, Jovak probably won’t even call on you.”
“Better not to take the chance,” I say brightly, and hurry off.
Salvatore’s tug leads me back down the hall, around a corner, and through a doorway into a quiet stairwell. I duck into the nook beneath the first flight of stairs and find my formidable match waiting in the shadows.
With a careless flick of his hand, the nearby ephemera shivers into a barrier I assume will conceal us.
As Salvatore steps toward me, I keep my voice low. “What’s so urgent you needed to see me here?”
He doesn’t speak at first, just wraps his brawny arms around me and pulls me against his immense frame. With his musky scent enveloping me, I can’t stop myself from melting into the embrace.
Salvatore lets out a contented sigh as if he’s been waiting years for this moment and kisses my temple. “You’ve looked down since you left your house this morning, mia amata. Like something’s shadowing that light inside you. What’s gone wrong?”
There’s a hint of a growl in the question. I swallow thickly and decide not to prod at the fact that he was apparently watching me when I left my house. What else is new?
I might as well tell him the truth—it’s not as if he won’t find out soon enough. “I activated Cole’s—Professor Raith’s—glim yesterday. He… wasn’t very happy with how I handled it. I’ll be fine. It just feels worse having a match upset with you than anyone else.”
An actual growl reverberates from Salvatore’s chest. “He should be thanking you. That puffed-up prick. I’ll rip off his head and shove it up his ass, since he thinks it belongs there.”
I smother a horrified laugh with my hand. “Seeing my matches injured also doesn’t feel very good.”
Salvatore gives a disgruntled huff that brushes warm across my skin. “Can’t I at least maim him? We’ll let the health center patch him up after. Someone needs to put him in his place.”
“Please no maiming.” I tip my head against this match’s shoulder. The deepest kernel of my uneasiness rises to the surface. “He might not be totally wrong.”
Was I too hasty about awakening Cole’s glim, thinking more about how he might help me than the other consequences? Should I have told him everything about it ahead of time and let him decide the best setting… or whether we should attempt it at all?
Salvatore snorts as if the idea that I could have made a mistake is absurd. “He doesn’t seem to like much about how you do anything. That’s on him, not you.”
He eases back, one hand against my cheek, and gazes down at me with his bright blue eyes. “You are fucking amazing, Elodie Devine, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life eviscerating anyone who tries to tell you different.”
The corner of my mouth twitches upward, but his words don’t penetrate the gloom inside.
I wouldn’t expect Salvatore to see it any other way. That doesn’t mean I didn’t screw up.
My doubt must show on my face. Salvatore frowns, his thumb tracing my cheekbone in a tender caress.
“Show me something,” he says abruptly. “From your other reality, the other me. We haven’t tried out projecting memories yet. Show me sometime he made you happy.”
I blink at him. I’ve done the memory exchange with my original matches—always very cautiously because I was afraid of revealing too much. Byron mentioned the possibility when I first revealed my biggest secret. But I wasn’t expecting this request now.
“Why?” I ask.
Salvatore’s grin bares his teeth. “So I know how easy it’ll be to treat you even better.”
“Go ahead,” my imagined Salvatore says. “He should see I won’t be that easy to beat.”
I restrain a roll of my eyes at both versions of him. “I should be getting to class. It’s going to start soon.”
“Then you’d better give me that memory quick, huh?”
I don’t want to fight with another of my matches.
Pushing aside my trepidation, I close my eyes.
I reach for the first memory that pops into my head of a good time with the original Salvatore.
My hand rises to rest over his against my face. I push a pulse of ephemera through our bond.
Glinting cars roar by on the track below. Salvatore squeezes my hand and lets out an enthusiastic whoop.
“What do you think, a chroí?” he asks, sliding his arm right around my back. “Would you bet on red or green?”
I gaze down at the race cars, dizzied by the chattering crowd around us and the smells of popcorn and exhaust saturating the air. My gaze snags on a car whipping along toward the back of the pack, trailing but intent.
“What about blue? I’ve always liked cheering on the underdog.”
Salvatore laughs and hugs me close. “I love the way you think.”
The memory fades into this Salvatore’s shadowy face looming over me. His forehead has furrowed. “Are you into car racing?”
I giggle awkwardly. “I mean, not a ton. But you are… were… That you was, anyway. It was one of your favorite things to do. It made me happy that you included me in it. That’s just the first thing that came to mind.”
A rumble thrums up Salvatore’s throat. He cups my face with both hands, his gaze searing into me with such intensity that my heart starts to soar.
“You deserve matches who care about the things you like. Who want you to share all of that with them instead of having you just tag along. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, Elodie.
I’m going to make sure you never forget it. ”
I choke up. “It wasn’t—they did care about me—”
He shakes his head. “Not enough. I can tell. You’ve already done amazing things and gotten through so much.
You’re stronger than any of us, even though you shouldn’t need to be.
We all have to step up our game to stand beside you, including that ass Raith.
If I have to lead the way, that’s my honor. ”
He lowers his head and claims my mouth with a heated passion that floods my entire body. All I can do is cling to him and kiss him back.
The light he talked about inside me flickers brighter again.
Maybe I didn’t handle Cole’s glim perfectly. I did the best I knew how with the understanding I had, with the dynamic he’d set up between us and the dangers we’re facing.
I’m allowed to stumble here and there. It’s not as if my matches never have.
How could I not, when there are no guidelines for this crazy situation I’ve found myself in?
I’ve survived, and carved a path, and uncovered so much about my enemies. I can’t cower away just because Cole pitched a fit at me.
When Salvatore breaks the kiss, I hug him hard, pressing my face against his chest. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“Any time, a shíorghrá. Keep your head high.”
I dash through the halls back to the Defensive Magic classroom, grateful that the mirror compact I imbued for our project in hidden defenses was in my satchel the whole time. I slide into my seat between Cadance and Madison just as Professor Jovak ambles in.
“Quite a detour,” Cadance says with a teasing arch of her eyebrows, but all my attention narrows onto our professor.
Who apparently hates my guts.
The gnome-like man beams at all of us in his usual cheerful way. I can’t see any of the hostility Cole sensed, even when his gaze passes over me.
But clearly Jovak is good at hiding his true feelings. An unsurprising skill, given the subject he teaches. He lets his innocent appearance lull everyone into a false sense of security.
If Cole could provoke a reaction with just a mention of me, how much might I be able to find out by putting myself right in front of him? He’ll have his defenses up, but if I come up with an excuse for an extended conversation, I’m sure I can poke a few holes in them…
While a few of my classmates give their presentations, my mind spins through the possibilities. When the class-ending chime sounds, I walk up to the professor’s desk rather than heading out with my friends.
I push my mouth into an ingratiating smile. “Professor Jovak. I’ve been appreciating the extra help in the intensive combat program so much, but after everything… I feel like I could use some extra advice for everyday situations. Do you have office hours today?”
The ephemera I can read around the man is nothing but placid—the flat, glossy impression I recognize from when the other Cole and I practiced shielding.
“I’m sorry, Miss Devine,” Jovak says in a kindly tone that grates at my nerves with what I now know. “I have an appointment immediately after school. Perhaps we can arrange something later this week?”
A faint wobble slips through his energy when he mentions the appointment. A trace of… agitation? He’s nervous about it?
That’s more useful than a tutoring session.
“I’ll check what would be the best day,” I reply, holding my smile in place. “Thanks so much!”
As I walk out of the room, I take a slow breath. I’m not going to rush in or throw caution to the wind.
I probably shouldn’t do anything risky alone right now. Going in without backup would be stupid, not strong.
And lucky me, I have four matches—well, maybe just three at the moment—who are determined to solve this mystery too.
My thoughts turn to Salvatore first, but his skills aren’t really suited for subtlety. I don’t want to barge in on whatever we’re going to discover and blow our cover.
Cole’s obviously out of the question. Byron might balk at helping me head into potential danger, and I don’t want to waste time convincing him.
But there is one of my matches I’ve unfairly shut out before. Whose skills are perfectly suited to keeping us safe if the situation goes sideways.
Who I’d like to get to know better as he is here, with all the life I didn’t steal from him this time.
Asher sits across the room from me in our next class, but the distance doesn’t matter. When he takes out his notebook, I will a little ephemera into a temporary scrawl across the page.
Meet me by Defensive Magic after last class. Stay concealed.
Asher’s gaze darts up to catch mine. A smile flits across his lips, and I know he’s in.