“And so have your allies.”
He knows about the Immortals as well. I wonder if he knows about their past with Victorine?
“If you stop her, I’ll fight with you.”
That gets my attention. “You will?”
“I have no problem with the Lowerworld expanding realms. It makes no difference to me or my people, but being under Victorine’s rule? That changes things.”
He offers his hand, and I don’t hesitate to shake it. I agree completely. We need to take out Victorine. Unfortunately, I think, as I follow him back down the stairs, putting distance between us and her nest, taking her out isn’t going to be easy.
No one has done it yet.
11
Hildi
“You’re going the wrong way.”
I slow my stride and look over. Miya stands next to a statue of a gargoyle. They’re about the same size and height—the exception is Miya’s handsome, chiseled face and the lack of fangs. He looks at ease, that’s part of the trick. He’s slight, but the hard-packed muscle is hidden under his robes. He’s deadly. Any object in sight could be used as a weapon. A pencil. A hair pin, the shard of a vase, or really, just his bare hands.
My heart beats harder in memory of the night we shared. We’d fucked. Hard. But it was out of necessity, not true passion. I felt guilty more than anything else. I’d made him break his vow of celibacy. If he’s upset by what happened, he’s kept it to himself.
“You don’t look like you’re headed to Victorine’s slaughter, either?”
He sighs. “I wish. I went outside to meditate and try to center myself before it starts. Victorine…”
“I’ve heard none of you are fans.”
“She’s evil.” I think he means that literally.
“Well, I’m not going. Not tonight. I’ve had enough mind games for the last twenty-four hours.” Between the dream or whatever it was with Morgan, talking to Rupert, getting jumped in the hallway, and making the deal with Darius, there’s no way I’m sitting by while Victorine mind-fucks the Academy.
“I don’t blame you,” he says. “But be careful. These are mandatory.”
“I’ll find a safe place to hide.” I already know where I’m going. Where someone I’m looking for is probably hiding as well.
He nods, but doesn’t turn away, like there’s something else he wants to say to me.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“We haven’t really had the chance to talk about that night.”
I grip the strap of my bag. “No, we haven’t. I really appreciate it, Miya. I know it went against
your personal beliefs.”
“My personal beliefs are to help others instead of harm. Something that will take me the rest of my immortal life to atone for.” He holds my eye. “That night was about assisting you, Hildi.”
He says it all without emotion, his self-control impressive. He lacks the low boiling anger that Agis carries just beneath the surface, or the ever-present guilt that weighs Armin like a shroud. He’s not anxious like Rupert, or smug and narcissistic like Marshal. He’s steady. Even. Calm.
He may be the hardest one for me to reach if I’m truly trying to balance these souls. We’d already had sex, mind-blowing, magic-infused sex, and I don’t particularly feel closer to him. It makes me question this whole strategy.
A group of students passes us, headed toward the staircase that leads to the basement. “You should go. Get a good seat to the massacre.”
He grimaces. “We’ll stop them.”
Will we? I want to ask, but I’m afraid to say the words out loud, just in case the gods are listening.