Relief.
But a tidal wave of other emotions, just as determined to be felt, had risen to the surface. Because Masika’s presence didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that Irene had vowed her allegiance to the Demien Order. That she was meant to play the part of the Ascended to help Mateo secure the defensive ward coin. And, more importantly, it didn’t change what Irene wanted.
The promise of power was too intoxicating, too seductive, for Irene to give it up. And she didn’twantto give it up. But maybe there was a way to meet in the middle. A way to ensure Masika’ssafety while still following through with the Order’s plan. It was Silas, after all, who demanded Masika’s destruction. Who needed her soul to be sacrificed. Maybe if Irene spoke with Mateo, he’d be willing to spare her. Masika wasn’t technically a Blackwood student anymore, so maybe she didn’thaveto be destroyed when they wiped the slate clean. Especially if they could convince Masika to join their side.
Irene clung to this minuscule sliver of hope as she strode into the dungeons. The damp air of the underground torture chamber filled her lungs, rot and decay overwhelming her senses. She ignored the sound of nails scraping against concrete. The muffled moans of agony that echoed in the shadows. She couldn’t stop their suffering.
There was only one soul in here she might stand a chance of helping.
Irene had expected to find Masika curled up on the floor of her cell, terror etched upon her amber eyes. But the girl on the other side of the bars hardly looked afraid. In fact, she looked ready for a fight.
Masika was standing, arms crossed, as if she’d been expecting Irene’s arrival.
“Come to finish the job?”
“Of all the places you could have gone…” Irene muttered with a sigh. “Whyhere?”
Masika’s response was as blunt and vague as Irene had been expecting. “Because we had to.”
Irene stepped closer. “And I don’t suppose you plan on telling mewhatexactly you were doing out there?”
Masika smirked. “What do you think?”
Irene drummed her index finger against her bicep. “Well…”She let out a small puff of air. “I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re trapped. You’re going to tell us what you know whether you want to or not.”
Masika laced her fingers around the iron bars of the cell, leaning in closer. “Is that a threat?”
Irene shrugged. “It’s a fact.”
A thick hush fell upon them. In the distance, another soul let out a broken cry, though neither of them glanced away. It was as if they had entered a silent battle, eyes locked in an unspoken duel.
Masika pressed her forehead against the bars. A rivulet of dark hair fell over her eyes. “Do you think we could have been sisters in another life?”
Irene flinched. Despite the delicate whisper of her voice, Masika’s words made a harsh and grating sound against the impenetrable silence of the dungeons, lacerating Irene’s chest.
“What the hell kind of a question is that?” Irene sputtered.
Masika smirked. “Indulge me.”
Irene crossed her arms, as if they might protect her from the sting of Masika’s words. “What for?”
“Irene,” Masika pressed. “Just answer the question.”
Masika spoke her name with threaded disappointment, like that of a mother chastising her unruly child. Anger flared inside Irene, with a hint of something worse, something bitter and embarrassingly close to shame.
“All right. Fine.” Irene scoffed. She paced back and forth, fingers tapping against her arms. “I’ll play along. Let’s say the answer isyes. That we could have been sisters. Then what? You think things would have ended differently for us? That I wouldn’t have walked away from you during the third trial? That I wouldn’t have made the decision to leave you behind?” Irene’s voice rose with everyword, trembling with frustration. “I’m still me, Masika. Selfish to my fucking core.”
Masika let out a snort of laughter, and Irene flinched, genuinely startled by the sound.
“Oh, spare me the self-indulgent victim complex,” Masika chided, which only fueled the ire building in Irene’s chest. “You’re so much more than that and you know it. You are…you are strong. And loyal. Like a terrifying, bloodthirsty golden retriever. You pretend to be selfish, but you’re far from it.”
Irene balked. How could Masika truly believe that? How could she be so blind to the festering darkness inside Irene?
Irene stopped her pacing, turning back to face the cell. She stepped closer, though she kept her distance, careful not to get close enough that Masika might reach through the iron bars and grab her. Despite whatever of their friendship remained, Masika was still a prisoner, and Irene was still her captor. If it had been Irene behind those bars, she wouldn’t have hesitated to strike.
Masika cocked her head. “What is it?”
Irene swallowed. “I left you.”
