Irene flinched. “Who?”
Mateo shook his head, as if confused by his own lack of self-restraint. He chuckled, a rough and bitter sound. When he looked back at Irene, the intensity had melted into something tender.
“Nobody,” he muttered softly. Irene could see the exact moment Mateo raised the wall between them again. That impenetrable shield he refused to drop. He made his way to the door, stopping when he placed his hand upon the doorknob. Irene didn’t miss the way his hands trembled. The tension in his muscles as he turned to look at her.
“You really want to know why I chose you, Irene?” He waited, and Irene felt herself nod, an almost involuntary movement. “I saw your suffering. I saw what the world had done to you. The way it had torn you apart and spat you back out. And yet…” He smiled, but there was so much pain behind it. “There you remained. Strong. Resilient. Determined to take what belonged to you.Thatis why I chose you, Irene. Because I knew, when it comes down to it, you’ll always put yourself first.”
Irene couldn’t bring herself to argue with him as he strode out of the room and left her behind. Mateo was right. Irene put herself first. She wouldalwaysput herself first. She was the kind of person who would abandon her friends for the promise of power.The kind of person who would stomach torture if it meant getting what she wanted in the end.
Irene Manette Bamford was selfish. She was cruel. A heartless, power-hungry bitch.
And she would do whatever it took to survive.
23
EMILIO
Emilio wasn’t trying to punish Olivier, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. If he spoke, he’d have to face reality. He’d have to confront the truth he was desperate to run from.
Olivier’s memories can’t be fixed.
He hadn’t said a word since they’d found the second key and map, since they had left the decrepit house and exposed their innermost secrets. And as they’d continued hiking eastward, the awkwardness of the moment had lingered, following Emilio like a nagging fly.
Based on the new map, the third and final key was about a day’s hike away, dangerously close to Blackwood’s perimeter, and Emilio had committed himself to silence until they got there. Olivier had tried to speak to him, blabbering on and on about Analisa’s diagnosis, and how he’dwantedto tell him, but had been too scared, and not that it mattered anyway because what good would come out of him knowing…
Despite Olivier’s ramblings, Emilio refused to believe there wasn’t a way out. A way to save Olivier. They’d come too far. They’d fought against the hand of fate and won. And now he was meant to simply let Olivier slip away from him? To let him drift into oblivion?
There was no way. Not in this eternity.
Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to break the silence, swept away by the current of his own thoughts. In his defense, Olivier hadn’t spoken in a while either, simply trudging along beside Emilio, his gaze anchored to the ground.
It didn’t help that the stretch of forest they were walking through sent an ominous chill down Emilio’s spine. It was unnerving. An unrelenting fear had blossomed in the back of Emilio’s mind, a strange feeling that the trees could hear them, that carved within their gray trunks were a set of eyes watching them, trailing them.
We see you, they seemed to whisper with every flutter of their leaves.
A swell of relief rushed through Emilio as the group stumbled upon a small clearing; he was grateful for the momentary pause from the suffocating greenery. But his relief was short-lived, because it was at that same moment that Olivier came to an abrupt halt, finally breaking the tension between them.
“You can’t ignore me forever.”
Emilio froze midstride. The rest of the crew continued forward, leaving Olivier and Emilio behind in the clearing as they slipped back into the shadowy depths of the forest. A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the crooked branches surrounding them, a light whistle breaking through the silence.
“Say something,” Olivier whispered, arms crossed, index finger drumming against his bicep. “Please.”
Emilio dug his fingernails into the palm of his hands. He wanted to speak, but the words were trapped, drowned out by the panic and hurt. And truthfully, he was afraid that if hedidtry to speak, if he tried to unravel the complexity of his emotions and say how he felt, he’d only break down in a puddle of tears.
“Fine,” Olivier muttered. “If you don’t want to talk, then at least listen.” He sucked in a sharp breath, wringing his hands as hecontinued. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you. I know that was wrong. But there was no way I was going to turn around and let you finish the expedition by yourself. If you had gone on without me and something had happened to you…” He shook his head, voice wavering. “How the hell would you have expected me to forgive myself?”
Emilio’s resolve finally shattered. “And what aboutme?”
Olivier flinched at the harshness in Emilio’s words. “I don’t…I don’t understand—”
“You aren’t the only one who wants to protect the people he cares about,” Emilio snapped, his voice torn and rough. “You aren’t the only one who has something to lose.” He couldn’t stop the words now that they had been released, a splintering crack breaking open into a gaping fissure. “I may not be the strongest of the crew, or the bravest, but I would put my soul on the line if it meant keeping you safe. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. You are…youaremy soul. And I decided a long time ago that I have no interest in an eternal existence if it doesn’t include youinit.”
Olivier stepped toward him, frantic, delicately cupping Emilio’s face with his hands. Emilio wanted to lean into his touch, to let himself be held, but his better judgment kept him from listening to his instincts.
“I know,” Olivier whispered, nodding. “I know.”
“Then answer me,” Emilio muttered, fighting back the stubborn tears welling behind his eyes. “How do you expectmeto forgive myself if something happens toyou? How do you expect me to—tobreathe?”
