Chapter Eight
Our business concluded, we rose. My legs shook, but I held out my hands to steady the guys. Trey leaned against me, his features pale and drawn. Quinn shrunk away, not wanting to be touched.
As soon as the Deadmistress’ door slammed behind us, Trey sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. I stopped in my tracks, frozen by his pain.
This was Trey Bloomberg, undisputed King of the Kings of Miskatonic Prep. This was a guy who’d known cruelty his entire life, who’d taken those lessons he’d learned from his father and internalized them until he became the very person he hated and feared.
Yet he’d still clung to one sliver of hope – that deep inside, he was someone different than his father. That his dreams and his soul were his own to command. And Ms. West had just shattered that hope.
Trey’s shoulders rocked, and my chest ripped open as I felt his heart shatter like it was my own. I staggered toward Quinn, desperate to hold him. But Quinn flinched away.
He wouldn’t break like Trey. No, Quinn had been broken long ago. His father had beaten the soul out of him and then I’d gone and set his world on fire. Now, Quinn looked over at me with cold, calculating eyes.
“You should run,” Quinn whispered. “Take Greg and Andre, take Zehra. Run as far as you can, as fast as you can away from this hellhole.”
“You know I’m not doing that,” I said. “We’re going to fix this.”
“Don’t you understand? There is no fixing this. Our souls have beensevered. They can’t be put back together again. I’m not Quinn Delacorte any more. I’m a demon spawn, a fuckingmonster.”
“So what? We’re all monsters. But you’re right about one thing,” I whispered, my nails digging into the burn on my wrist. “You can’t go back. But after twenty fucking years, you get to move forward.”
“What she’s offering isn’t a life.” Quinn turned his head away. “I couldn’t walk out with my head held high, not with a piece of that… thatthingrattling around inside me.”
“I agree, but it is a start. It’s the chance to stand outside the grounds of Miskatonic Prep without carrying a giant-ass stone around your neck. It’s being able to have ice cream with Trey and me, pat some dogs, drive a motorcycle really fast. It’s the ability to experience new things, new people, new ideas. Don’t you deserve that?”
Quinn didn’t reply.
“You’re right about another thing, too. You’re no longer Quinn Delacorte. The Quinn I met when I first arrived at Derleth believed the world owed him a good time just because he existed. That was the Quinn who gave in to his base urges, who took pleasure in torturing new students because it made him feel good about his own life. But the guy I fell in love with…” I choked back a sob. “He’s brave and loyal and he makes me laugh and he can’t stand injustice. So don’t you—”
“You’d know a lot about base urges,” Quinn’s face twisted into an ugly scowl.
I tried to fight down the pain that threatened to overwhelm me.Right now, I’m the physical embodiment of Quinn’s greatest fear. Cut him some slack.“You know what? Yeah, I fucking do. Because I’ve spent my entire life trying to hide who I am, and maybe if I’d embraced the fire instead, I might’ve been able to control it and I never would have hurt the people I loved most. I know I scare you right now, and that’s okay. Being scared at Miskatonic Prep is so mundane, it’s ridiculous. But don’t let that fear make you forget who you are. Besides, if you think we’re going to blindly do whatever Ms. West wants, then you don’t know me as well as you think. I want her to believe we’re on her side – that buys us time to find a real solution. And thereisa real solution, I know there is. There’s a fucking giant-ass obelisk in the middle of the auditorium – so we know there’s more going on here. But being able to leave Miskatonic Prep without having to sneak around would help a lot. Deborah could do more tests and—”
“No.” Quinn’s voice was pure ice. “No, no, and no.”
“It’s not for us to decide,” Trey whispered, his chin rocking against his chest.
“You don’t know,” Quinn snapped.
Trey jerked his head up. His eyes swam with a pain so intense I staggered back in shock. Yet when he spoke, his voice carried a calm authority. “Exactly. Idon’tknow. We can’t make this decision for everyone. This isn’t about us anymore, Quinn. It’s about every Miskatonic student.”
There he was – Trey Bloomberg, class president, future world leader, squaring his shoulders and stepping into histruepower. My chest swelled with pride for how he was able to pull himself through this haze of pain. Dicksome rich boys could be an asset, after all.
Quinn gaped at him. “What’s your fucking game, mate?”
“This isn’t a game,” Trey growled. “Ms. West wants to make an army out of the students. Fine. We’ll show her an army. It’s time we take back this fucking school.”
Chapter Nine
Trey’s jaw had set into that hard line, his eyes glaciers – immovable, remote. He’d shut away the parts of him that felt the sting of Ms. West’s revelations. His focus became his armor. He knew he needed nerves of steel for what would come next.
I knew that look all too well, for it was what I did – I shoved all the feelings down deep so they wouldn’t cripple me under the weight of my guilt. We had shit to do – a student body to win over, a creepy pillar to decode, and only the final quarter of the school year to make it happen. Trey took Quinn’s arms and dragged him into the atrium. I followed, my eyes locked with Trey’s. Wordlessly, we formed a plan.
First, Ayaz. Then, sleep. Then, taking back the school.
As we approached the infirmary, Quinn clawed his way out of his stupor and was able to walk under his own weight. As we rounded the corner a cry echoed down the hall, so filled with pain it rent my heart.
“Ayaz!” I broke into a run. Trey grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
