5. Maven

When I step outsidemy dorm, Crypt is leaning against the wall beside my door, perfectly visible in the mortal realm in his regular attire. As soon as he sees me, he straightens. The last rays of sunset streaming through the windows across the hallway catch on the piercings in his ears and brow. His silver-flecked purple irises bore into mine, filled with a host of emotions so consuming that, for a moment, I can only stare back at him, transfixed.

"You look like pure sin," he whispers, drinking me in slowly. "And I"ve always loved sinning, darling."

Some horribly inconvenient part of me melts hearing the marvel in his voice. It"s nice to hear after putting in the effort. I even put on a tiny bit of the makeup that Kenzie insisted on buying me when I first came here. I"ve never worn makeup before, but I watched Kenzie apply it on herself often enough that I just mimicked her methods.

I finally look away from Crypt, glancing down at two corpses on the floor beside him. They"re dressed nicely as if they were on their way to the dance, but it looks like a wild animal got to them. Their dress and suit are soaked in blood, and their eyeballs have been scratched out.

Kenzie told me that most guys bring fancy corsages for dances.

This is much more my style.

"They made the mistake of lingering outside your door for far too long."

"So you mauled them?"

He"s still distracted by my appearance. "Hmm? No, love, they did that to each other. Took only the barest dose of mania on my part. I am sorry you missed the show, though."

So am I. But I have a vendetta against my so-called matches tonight, so I feign disinterest.

"You clearly intend to continue stalking me."

"For the rest of this life and into the Beyond, yes."

For an incubus with a reputation for feeling nothing, he"s so melodramatic around me. But the fact that he"s here, shamelessly devouring me with his gaze, makes me wonder if his fascination with me was genuine after all.

I mean…he did try to keep Silas from healing me, just like I asked. And as far as I know, he hasn"t breathed a word to the others about my little reviving-from-death parlor trick.

If Crypt"s interest was real?—

No. It"s a moot point. All my original reasons for rejecting my quintet still stand, and I have more important things to focus on right now. Such as…

"Where"s my dagger?"

I can"t lose track of that. First of all, it"s my favorite dagger, and I happen to be emotionally attached to it, considering that it was a gift from a once-upon-a-time friend. I even named it—Pierce, for obvious reasons.

But second of all and more importantly, it"s made of adamantine, which is only found in the Nether. If someone found it in the headmaster"s office, the Immortal Quintet will put the pieces together and begin looking for the telum here at Everbound. That would complicate my attempts to kill them off discreetly.

Crypt tips his head. "Your dagger?"

"The one you pulled out of my chest."

That casts a menacing darkness into his expression. "That was your dagger, buried in your heart? Tell me who put it there."

"It doesn"t matter. Just tell me where it?—"

"Doesn"t matter?"

The Nightmare Prince vanishes for a fraction of a second. When he reappears, he"s so near that I press back against the door to put space between us. But that"s precisely what Crypt wanted, and he braces his hands on either side of me, so now I"m trapped looking up at him. Although he"s careful not to touch me, his face is so close to mine that strands of his messy dark hair tickle my forehead.

His alluring gaze has me pinned in place. "It absolutely fucking matters. You died. Twice. And I was powerless as I watched it happen. Twice," he adds hoarsely. "So make me a promise."

This position, having him so near, smelling that sweet leather scent that"s all him—it makes warmth thrum through my veins and turns my mind to mush. I can"t stand that he has the ability to fluster me like this, so I fix him with a stony glare, even though my voice is less even than I"d like.

"I will not promise you anything."

His laugh is devilish as he dips his head to lightly kiss the hair beside my temple. I can"t feel the contact, but my stomach flips.

"Oh, my dark little darling…yes, you fucking will. Right now."

He"s never used this tone with me before. It"s treacherous and fierce. I try to shove down the illogical urge to rub my cheek against his. My stupid, confused body isn"t reacting to his proximity the way I"m used to.

I feel lightheaded. Restless.

I blame it on the fact that I now know what an orgasm feels like. My body is greedy in all the ways I"ve never experienced, but I refuse to listen to it.

"Crypt—"

"Promise me that I"ll never have to watch you die again."

His voice breaks, and that show of emotion does something unexpected to me. It makes me want to…reassure him.

But I can"t. Not with this, not if he expects me to be honest.

I study him as I pick my words carefully. "I don"t make empty promises. If you can"t stomach death, you should run now. It"s…part of my nature."

His brow furrows as he puzzles out my words, and for a moment, I worry I"ve let too much slip. He"s going to figure out what I am.

But finally, Crypt leans back down and whispers near my ear, his breath caressing my neck and sending a delicious shiver down my spine that I try to hide.

"All right. Keep your secrets. Just promise to keep me, too."

The gentleness in his voice kills me because deep down, I want that. I want to pull him closer for a kiss and forget about everything I"ve been through and everything I know will happen to me. I just want to fucking lose myself in the dream world that I know the Nightmare Prince can weave for me.

But it doesn"t matter what I want. I made a promise, so whether or not Crypt"s interest in me is genuine…I can"t be selfish. Not when so many people are relying on me.

It takes monumental effort, but I keep my poker face intact. "If you value your testicles, step away from me."

His mouth twists up into a wistful yet flirtatious smile. "Now, darling. We both know you wouldn"t dare hurt your chances of having little nightmares running around the house one day."

Before I can fucking unpack that, Crypt steps back and extends his arm in an offer to escort me. But the night has barely begun, and I'm already struggling with how I act around them. I need to steel my resolve, so I walk past him without looking back, knowing that, seen or unseen, he"ll follow me whether I like it or not.

Ten minutes later, I step through the massive double doors of Everbound"s vaulted two-story ballroom and gaze wide-eyed upon the societal horror to which I"m about to subject myself.

The sprawling checkered marble dance floor is dimly yet sensually lit by an array of warm mage lights. Illusionary displays of glittering magic swirl around the massive columns lining the room. Music pulses through the air courtesy of more enchantments, the bass of it just loud enough to cover much of the laughter and chatter. The fringes of the ballroom are crowded with quintets and unmatched legacies alike, all dressed to the nines as they clink champagne flutes and parade about like deadly peacocks having the time of their lives.

A complimentary bar manned by faculty members is tucked into one corner of the dance floor. On the opposite end of the room is a cascading ornate grand split staircase.

I assume the Immortal Quintet will enter over there. Immortals like themselves are bound to have a flair for theatrics.

Couples on the dance floor writhe rhythmically while others blatantly grind on each other. Others look on from the darker corners of the room, enjoying the show as they drink, chitchat, or play tonsil ping-pong with their quintet members.

For a moment, my attention is arrested by all the grinding, swaying, and PDA filling the room. I wonder if I would have enjoyed things like this in a different lifetime. Not that it matters, because I can"t help how my body reacts with a prickle of apprehension, my throat tightening and skin turning clammy.

I don"t want to get closer to all of that, but tonight is all about blending in…and keeping an eye out for the changeling.

Changelings aren"t too difficult to kill once they"re identified. The real trouble will be finding it again without the aid of my magic since I haven"t refueled it. In order to sift through other students and try to identify the changeling tonight, I"ll have to get close enough to see other people"s pupils.

I may even have to…mingle.

Ew.

I wander inside, sticking to the edge of the ballroom as I observe everything. I can sense the subtle hum of wards everywhere here—something only magic-users can sense. They"re faint, likely put in place to prevent psychics, empaths, sirens, and others from superficially influencing other legacies in such a crowded extravaganza.

Just as I realize I no longer sense Crypt"s invisible presence, the sound of glass shattering nearby draws my attention. Flutters break out in my stomach when I turn and make eye contact with two of my matches, both of them staring open-mouthed at me.

The shattering glass was because Silas apparently let his drink slip out of his hand, but he hasn"t noticed the mess. His crimson eyes stay pinned on me, dark with hunger. Baelfire is checking me out just as thoroughly, biting his lip.

Gods. They clean up nicely.

Silas"s tuxedo is pitch black and has a red rose in his breast pocket. Baelfire"s white button-up shirt is untucked, and I can"t help staring as he loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves, revealing gorgeously tanned, muscular forearms. He prowls towards me with an animalistic gleam in his golden eyes.

"Drop dead fucking gorgeous."

I go perfectly still out of surprise when he leans forward and inhales at the crook of my neck. My cheeks warm when he groans raggedly.

"Gods, baby. You have no fucking idea how much power you have over me. I could come just from your scent alone."

It takes effort to swallow.

Focus. Don"t be affected.

I can"t afford to get hot and bothered by anything they say tonight. I need to show them I"m not someone to fuck with ever again.

Fool me once and all that.

Only the ugly truth is that this isn"t the first time someone screwed with my head to screw with my body. To say that the one and only other time I dallied in romance ended badly would be an understatement.

Silas approaches, finally meeting my gaze as his tongue slips out to drag slowly across his lower lip. Despite the rest of his fancy getup, his normally-mussed curly hair is worse than usual. As if he"s been unable to stop messing it up.

"Thu mi le d'chal lei fhuil, ima sangfluir," he murmurs.

Which is fae for, You drive me mad with your beauty, my blood blossom.

And since I"m dangerously close to getting sidetracked by how unfairly gorgeous they are, I choose to be impish.

"Nach, ás mo esio chial na"mi cobhair,"I reply smoothly in fae.

No, you are mad enough without my help.

His head rears back in surprise. "How do you?—"

"Attention, everyone!"

The music softens to silence as Professor Gibbons climbs the first few stairs on the massive staircase, turning with a bright smile as a mage light settles around him like a spotlight. Using magic to amplify his voice, he addresses everyone present.

"Welcome one and all to Everbound University"s prestigious Matched Ball! As you know, there have been some significant changes to our schedule going forward, which the Immortal Quintet wishes to reiterate. So, without further ado, let us welcome Iker Del Mar, Somnus DeLune, and the effervescent Natalya Genovese!"

Everyone applauds as he retreats. From opposite sides of the split staircase, those three members of the Immortal Quintet enter the room.

And unlike legacies, who look mostly human, these are clearly monsters.

Descending from the left staircase is Iker Del Mar, the immortal hydra shifter. His skin is a deep, mottled pattern of grays and greens broken up by clusters of scales. Several horns protrude back from the dark hair of his head, and his eyes are a pale yellow with snake-like slits for pupils. He wears an outfit that would have been tasteful a hundred years ago but somehow looks equally sharp now.

And on the opposite staircase, Somnus DeLune enters.

Crypt"s father.

My eyes can"t help seeking similarities between this suited monster and his mysteriously absent incubus son. His hair is dark, his face just as strikingly handsome, and they"re similar heights—but that"s where the similarities end. Instead of Crypt"s vibrant, silver-flecked purple eyes, Somnus"s are a beady black. Leathery, bat-like wings riddled with ragged holes extend from his back in mangled arches. A barbed tail whips back and forth behind him, and his sharp fangs gleam when he sneers down at the legacies below.

I admit, they"re an impressive sight.

But the most impressive of all is their keeper, Natalya.

Her foreboding presence fills the room as she descends behind Iker Del Mar, dressed in a nude gown that clings to her curvaceous body and glitters with thousands of teardrop-shaped diamonds. Natalya"s cinnamon-colored hair is styled perfectly, and though her blue eyes aren"t glowing now, I know they will if she uses her psychic abilities—a trait of the original vampyr. Though she looks less monstrous than the other two, she is the last survivor of the psychic vampyrs, who led all of monsterkind in the revolution to escape their dark ruler in the Nether many hundreds of years ago.

And like a crown of runes etched into her forehead are all four of the keeper emblems. A line for Arcana, a circle for Shifting, a triangle for Craving, and a square for Elemental.

Those emblems manifest on keepers once their hearts have been bound to the members of their quintet. It"s a symbol of unity—though they don"t always manifest on the forehead in the vague shape of a crown as Natalya"s did.

All three of the monsters scan the legacies below as if they expect to see one of us covered in their mage"s dried blood, blatantly guilty for them to execute on the spot. But finally, Iker Del Mar"s voice booms across the room, needing no magic amplification. His forked tongue flicks out on occasion as he speaks bluntly.

"Heirs of the Four Houses, your next semester starts effective tomorrow morning. The no-killing ban for legacies matched into quintets has been officially lifted."

Whispers fill the room as fresh tension vibrates through the air. From the corner of my eye, I see sneers and smirks pass between many of the matched quintets. Many of them move to better surround their keepers.

Silas and Baelfire also move to either side of me. Baelfire skims the crowd with a scowl on his ordinarily cheerful face. Silas looks one wrong look away from another psychotic break. He withdraws his bleeding crystal, twisting it restlessly between his long fingers.

Del Mar continues as if he doesn"t notice the heightened tension. "All matched quintets, complete or not, must report their chosen emphasis to Professor Gibbons before the conclusion of this dance. Classes shall begin tomorrow morning. All students will arrive at their courses promptly and obey curfew. Anyone caught skipping classes or wandering the halls outside of designated hours shall be dealt with by me personally."

That makes another hush fall over the Matched Ball as the other students seem to catch on to what"s happening. Typically, quintets have weeks to pick their classes, and Everbound is lenient with legacies—but not now. Now, we"re being highly monitored by the Immortal Quintet themselves.

Watched. Studied. Vetted.

If I want to retain the element of surprise, I"ll need to keep pretending to be an untalented wallflower. They can"t know that I"m the telum whispered about in the underbelly of the legacy world.

"Several prophets and healers from Galene"s nearby temple have arrived at Everbound to assist in the infirmary, which will no doubt fill quickly as quintet rankings unfold," the hydra shifter goes on, his pale yellow gaze flicking from student to student. "We look forward to observing you just as we observed your ancestors prove themselves worthy legacies. Be fierce and remember that weak legacies will only be a liability to our kind. Weed out the weak and bring honor to the Four Houses, be it in life or death."

The Immortal Quintet descends to join everyone else on the ballroom floor. Somnus and Iker flank both sides of Natalya as she sweeps toward the bar, the crowd of legacies parting effortlessly for her glittering form.

I track their movements. If they"re mourning the loss of their mage, all three of them are excellent at hiding it. They look as if they own the world and everyone in it—the perfect picture of the ideal quintet.

I wonder which one I"ll decide to kill first.