Page 48 of Revenant

One is Della, the girl who accused me of egging Eryx on to kill Sage. She doesn’t acknowledge me. The other gives me a soft smile, but there’s a question already living behind her eyes. “Do you, like…know them?” Her gaze flicks toward where I just came from, where Bastian is very deliberately looking at me.

I shouldn’t be surprised that’s the first thing out of her mouth. “Unfortunately. If you want to call it that.” I say it just loud enough to hope Bastian’s catching every word from across the room.

She nods, accepting my answer for what it is. “My coven has been talking about this place for as long as I can remember. They’ve said Veilcrest is the gateway to my full potential, that I’d never understand what I was capable of until I got here.” Her smile thins. “They used to tell stories of the mad witch. The one who turned on her closest friends to create monsters.” A shadow moves across her face, something closer to disappointment. “The earth grants us our magic. To think someone bent that gift to create something so…I always thought they were just stories.”

Right. The mad witch. Veil Calder. My ancestor, reduced to a campfire tale told to frighten young witches. I wonder if any of them know the mad witch and I seem to share a face.

“I’m Ophelia,” she adds.

“Alicent.”

The rest of the group has gone silent, watching me with the kind of blatant staring people only do when they think they’ve seen a ghost. I guess I’ve got my answer. One girl with pale green eyes is fixed on me so intently, she’s startled when I catch her.

“Sorry,” she blurts. “It’s just—”

“I look like her.” I finish her sentence. I’ve never seen Veil with my own eyes, obviously—but I’ve gotten used to the awkward double take to know I’m not just similar to the woman.

“Yeah.” The green-eyed girl winces. “It’s…honestly kind of unsettling. There are portraits of her in the west wing. You could be twins.”

I press my lips together. There’s no good answer to you look exactly like a psycho murderous witch who created the living dead who feed on blood, so I don’t try to find one.

“Zara,” she offers, gentler now, like she feels bad for making me uncomfortable. “I’ve been here a few years. So have Naomi, Sloane, and Azalea.”

“Well.” I glance around the circle of them, then back toward Bastian, who hasn’t fooled anyone with his pretending. “It was nice meeting you all. But don’t worry, as long as you don’t pass me in the halls, you won’t have to look at my face much longer.”

Zara’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t plan on coming back.”

Right on cue, as if he’s been waiting for my admission, Bastian peels away from whatever busy work he was faking and settles in behind me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, smoothly. “I think I misheard you.”

I don’t bother turning to face him. “Does the super hearing not work at a distance, or are we just being dramatic?”

“Funny.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Glad to see your recent development hasn’t cost you your sense of humor.”

Recent development. There’s no version of “magic is real and I’m surrounded by bloodsuckers” that fits a phrase that small.

“As much fun as this has been.” I look over the girls one more time, then finally face him. “I think I’ll see myself out.”

“You’re really not coming back?” Ophelia asks, and I can’t tell if she is begging me to say yes or no.

Bastian answers before I can. “She’ll be back.” He says it lightly, as if it’s already a fact.

I don’t argue. I just leave it there. Despite what they may think, I don’t owe a single one of them. Not the witches or the vampires.

15: Bastian

Her mind is like an open book. Reeling with thoughts and feelings that I don’t feel the least bit guilty indulging in. However, there was one piece of information that intrigued me more than others. She said she was busy tonight; naturally, I thought she was full of shit, coming up with an excuse to keep me away.

As if some minuscule plan would keep me away.

But her heart rate didn’t increase as it normally does when she’s lying. Which means she’s actually doing something I’m not aware of. That simply won’t do.

I leave the girls in the greenhouse, entrusting the more experienced witches to take the newbies under their wing. I let myself into Koen’s room, where I find everyone else lounging around as if there is nothing better to be doing.

The door’s not even shut before Pryce speaks. “How’d it go?”