15. Maven

I would never sayit out loud, but I"m starting to miss my unseen stalker.

As I redress and wait for Silas and Baelfire to clean up and get ready for changeling hunting, it feels odd not sensing Crypt"s dark presence lingering at the outskirts of my senses.

Even though Baelfire grumbled about it, the plan is to skip dinner and use that time to find the changeling. But before we leave, I can"t resist skimming my letter again.

There never has been and never will be anyone but you for me. Twisted souls like ours can"t help belonging together, will of the gods be damned. Quintet or not, bound or not, I was always going to be yours, darling.

Wherever you rest your pretty head, keep this under your pillow until I return to you. And please dream of me, for if I could dream, it would always be of you.

Gods. Why does he have to be so…poetic?

This kind of sweetness normally nauseates me, but for some reason, my stomach decides to flutter instead. My face feels warm. It"s unclear why Engela Zuma herself dropped off these notes from Crypt, but I know one thing: there must be a good reason he had to leave Everbound if someone in the Immortal Quintet was involved.

It only stokes my curiosity about the Nightmare Prince.

"Ready, baby?" Baelfire asks, cutting into my thoughts as he emerges from the hallway, his dirty blond hair even darker when wet.

I nod, but when Silas joins us barely a second later, having also showered, I pause and tip my head, unable to keep the curious words from escaping.

"Did you shower together?"

Silas recoils in disgust. Baelfire gags.

"Hell to the motherfucking no. The only way I"m ever going to be naked near this jackass in a shower is if you"re naked between us. That, I could get behind. Or in front of. You"d get to pick, of course."

My neck heats, but I do my best to ignore that sensual visual as I ask the natural follow-up question. "Would any of you go for each other?"

"I"d rather lop off my left testicle than play with any of their pricks," Bael says decisively.

Silas grimaces as if I asked them to lick mold. "Agreed. Are you asking because that thought excites you, sangfluir?"

I hadn"t considered it until this exact second, but the more I think about it, the more I can"t picture any of my matches wanting to fuck each other. They"d all much rather get in a bloody fistfight, except they seem to be begrudgingly buddying up for our temporary quintet.

"Not really. But what would you have done if the gods had put you in an all-male quintet?"

"Remained platonic."

"What about Everett? Or Crypt?"

Baelfire does a theatrical full-body shudder. "No idea, and I"m glad. I take it back when I said all cards on the table—I do not want to know about DeLune"s previous love life. I didn"t even want to know about Snowflake"s, but here we fucking are."

I"m tempted to ask what that means, but then I glimpse a large, decorative clock hanging nearby and realize dinner won"t last much longer. Either the Immortal Quintet or their legacy minions will be keeping a close watch on all students, and curfew is laughably early, so we don"t have much time for what I have in mind.

And killing this changeling is essential. On the off chance that the changeling plans on targeting any more of the Immortal Quintet, I really need to kill it before it puts that plan in motion and robs me of my mission. Not to mention, I plan on torturing it until it tells me where Kenzie is.

Killing it might give me enough boost in magic to tear through Everbound"s magical wards to find her. Fingers crossed.

"Come on." I lead them out of the apartment.

The halls are mostly empty since most legacies are in the dining hall for food after a long, danger-and-death-filled day. However, we still pass a couple of other groups and the occasional unmatched legacy. Anytime we do, Baelfire bares his teeth at them, and Silas"s eye starts to twitch.

When the blood fae starts muttering nonsense under his breath again, I brace myself and briefly brush my fingers along his jaw. Even that tiny contact sends a wave of both tingles and chills down my arm, but he snaps to attention and blinks down at me.

"You touched me."

"Exposure therapy," I remind them.

Baelfire frowns down at me as we turn into another hall. "You sure you actually want that, Mayflower? Don"t get me wrong, I"d touch you and hold you every fucking second of every day if I could, but if you don"t like it?—"

I stop to look up at him. Maybe I"m being too vulnerable, but I want them to understand this part of me clearly.

"It"s not that I don"t like it. I was conditioned. It"s psychological, and I need to get over it. I want to enjoy touch, and more than that, I can"t let anyone use it to fuck with me again."

Baelfire"s expression hardens, and his pupils shift into a dragon"s. His shifter emotions swing so fast that I"m taken off guard, and suddenly, he"s shaking with fury.

"You were conditioned? What, like some fucking lab rat? Is that what you"re telling me?"

Oh, my gods. Their curses are turning them into toddlers on the verge of a tantrum about every little fucking thing. How am I supposed to get anything done?

I spot a cluster of legacies coming closer on the opposite side of the hallway and don"t want them to overhear. "Baelfire. Relax."

His sharp, angry breathing doesn"t calm. "Who conditioned you, Maven? Tell me. Tell me right the fuck now, or I"m?—"

"Calm down," Silas snaps, also noticing that we"re being watched, but that just earns him a sharp shove and a snarl from Bael.

The other quintet is looking our way now, and I realize it"s tattoo-headed Brooks and his matches. The last thing I need is for that moron to think our quintet is having a weak moment and decide to waste more of my time, so I push myself onto the very tips of my toes and plant a kiss on Baelfire"s lips.

He"s so warm.

Immediately, his trembling stops. His big hands naturally clasp my waist to hold me against him even as I pull my mouth from his. It"s difficult to breathe since I can"t seem to think about anything but those big, warm hands on me, but I force myself to give him a small smile.

"Be good for me and rein in your dragon, and perhaps I"ll reward you later," I whisper quietly enough that only his shifter hearing will pick it up.

He swallows thickly, looking torn between frustration and want. "I need to know who hurt you."

Plenty of people. Especially people I was stupid enough to care about.

But instead of saying that out loud, I squirm, all too aware of the apprehension curling down my spine from being pressed against him like this. Baelfire notices and quickly releases me. Brooks" quintet has already moved on from this hall.

Silas studies me before sighing. "I do want answers about you, but not as much as I want you safe. So let"s change the conditions. I agree to help with this exposure therapy if you really insist on it, but only if you move into the quintet apartment."

I consider that. Earlier, when I was desperate to get the lingering sensation of ghostly maggots and invasive hands washed from my body, I"d wound up at the quintet apartment without thinking about it. I hardly need protection, but I can admit that it feels more secure and comfortable in the quintet apartment.

Plus, legacies might gossip about a keeper not staying with her much stronger matches. I don"t want more attention than I"m already getting.

"Fine."

Silas opens his mouth as if he"s prepared with another argument but pauses when he registers my answer. "Really? So easily?"

"Would you rather I keep putting up a fight?"

"No," he says quickly, one corner of his mouth lifting. "You"ve put up more than enough of a fight in all aspects of this quintet. I"m just pleased to win, for once."

"Fuck, yes. I"ll help move your things from your dorm," Baelfire offers, his smile dazzling. How shifters can handle bouncing between strong emotions all the time is beyond me. "I mean, I can help after we finish breaking this changeling"s kneecaps or whatever. Speaking of…how the hell are we finding this thing?"

Making sure no one is watching, I lead them to one of Everbound Castle"s most private alcoves. It"s the same one where I tried and spectacularly failed at rejecting them the first time.

I slip my gloves off and tuck them in my pocket but then hesitate, realizing I"m nervous.

It"s a foreign feeling.

Furtively, I glance up. They"re both watching, waiting to see me truly cast for the first time. They know where I came from, and against all odds, they"re still behaving like they want me, even without a stupid bet in place.

But what if they get to know the real me and then opt to hate me?

Get over it. It shouldn"t matter to you anyway.

But it does. I was an absolute bitch to them, trying to make them hate me and move on, but they never did. But if they grow disgusted with me now...

Silas"s face softens, and he leans to catch my eye. "You"re worrying, but there"s no need. I already know your magic is different. I felt it."

Baelfire looks between us curiously. "Different how?"

Better get this over with.

Taking a deep breath, I step back and make a twisted symbol with my fingers, breathing out a short string of forbidden words. Dark, cruel magic surges to the surface, boiling in my veins as my fingertips blacken and tendrils of shadow swirl around my bare hands.

Silas"s eyes widen infinitesimally, but I can tell it"s from intrigue and not alarm. Baelfire looks concerned as the dark tendrils climb up my arms, circling and twisting until they encompass me. I shut my eyes and hold my breath, focusing entirely on the shadow heart in my chest.

It magically keeps my blood running, but it doesn"t beat. Amadeus crafted this heart for me to replace the one he ripped out. But even with all his foresight, he didn"t realize that pouring his magic into this heart would give me the ability to tap into his precognitive abilities in a tight pinch.

My "father"s" foresight only encompasses death, misery, and future battles. It"s not always accurate, so I rarely glean from it.

But right now, it comes in handy. My body starts to go numb just as images flicker in my mind—a dorm number, blood pooling on a stone floor, the changeling screaming in agony, and a blood-streaked vial of powder.

"Mayflower?"

"Don"t get close to her," Silas warns. "Some spells are delicate. It might rebound and harm her if you interfere."

My head spins as I finally break out of the trance-like spell, catching my breath and blinking up at them. But even though Baelfire still looks worried, Silas appears fascinated by my display of the forbidden arts.

I grin. "Follow me."

Minutes later, we wind up at the door to a private dorm marked with the same dorm number I just foresaw. I can only assume the changeling killed to have this space.

Setting my bare hand against the door, I use another small burst of magic to corrupt all wards or protective spells, and then I try the handle. It"s not even locked. This arrogant piece of shit puts far too much faith in its own lesser form of magic.

Opening the door, I waltz in to find the changeling posing in front of a full-length mirror in what I assume is a freshly stolen outfit. When it sees me, it hisses in a very un-Monica-like way and launches toward its sword propped against one wall.

Before it can touch the weapon, a flare of Silas"s blood-red magic sends it crashing into the wall. A circle of powerful runes emblazons itself into the floor around the monster to keep it from exiting.

He"s efficient. I don"t mind that.

I also don"t mind when the changeling hisses and snarls, flinging itself against the invisible ward, keeping it trapped as it glowers at me. Seeing it trapped and furious like this makes me smile.

Baelfire locks the door.

I approach the sneering changeling. It"s strange to see it do that with the sweet empath"s face, but things only get more bizarre as it smirks at me before its entire appearance ripples and changes. In the blink of an eye, I"m once again staring at myself.

"Would you look who it is?" it snaps in my voice. "Took you long enough to find me, telum."

"Scourge?" Silas translates with a frown. I"m surprised he knows even that much in the Nether tongue. "Why is it calling you that?"

The changeling peers over my shoulder at my matches and smiles flirtatiously, batting its—my—eyelashes and blowing a kiss. Changelings don"t experience human emotions but are great at affecting human qualities.

"Hello, pretty boy toys."

Baelfire makes a face. "Okay, that"s fucking weird. I can"t unsee that."

"We both know why I"m here," I say, drawing the monster"s attention back to me. I slip one of my concealed daggers from its place and twist it in my hand, admiring it before I smile thinly at the creature. "You know what answers I want. So tell me. Are we going to do this the easy way or the fun way?"

Fake Maven wrinkles its nose and clamps its mouth shut stubbornly.

I grin.

Looks like this will be fun, after all.