Page 26 of Wicked Ends
“Dismissed.”
The crowd scatters, less enthusiastic than they were earlier, and most of the students are just pale and silent. Thorne’s opponent is carried away, but Thorne is immediately surrounded by her little clique, all of them fawning and fake-concerned.
Lucien touches my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just you know. Mildly traumatized.”
“In the academy handbook, they call that character building.” Soren smirks, but his eyes are serious. Too serious for him.
As the quad empties, Jasmine watches from her perch, sipping her drink, and tossing popcorn up in the air to catch in her mouth. She looks happy, or whatever passes for happy in the Wickersly family.
I realize, with a sickening feeling in my stomach, that Thorne has found her idol. And that Jasmine has found herself a monster to mold in her image.
This is starting to feel less like an academy and more like a Roman Colosseum.
After the quad clears, Lucien and Soren linger near the steps, checking on the students who caught the worst of the magical crossfire. Soren is uncharacteristically sweet, helping a girl to her feet and dusting her off, while Lucien takes charge of the triage effort, barking orders at the faculty like he’s born to command. I realize now that I didn’t see Ash at all, which is weird.
I try to slip away, heading for the dorms, but the universe is not done with me yet.
Ollie is waiting at the side entrance. Not the Ollie I remember, the quiet man who looked uncomfortable in his own skin. This Ollie shows none of that. His eyes are flat and reptilian, and it looks like the human act is a mask he’s about to shed.
“Rose,” he says. “Headmistress Wickersly wants to see you.”
Every cell in my body says “nope,” but I just nod.
He doesn’t even try to make small talk. We walk in silence, his steps silent on the marble floor. I try to keep my eyes forward, but every reflective surface shows me the same thing: Ollie, but not Ollie. I see him now, who he has always been.
It took me a while to realize that Ollie wasn’t who he was pretending to be, but when I saw him smiling at Jasmine at the assembly, I knew. He had been lying to me the whole time. Helpingher. And now he doesn’t even have the good grace to apologize or acknowledge his deceit, or the part he led me to play in the events that occurred.
The hallway to Jasmine’s office is dark, with only a few candles burning in the sconces. I can hear singing from inside.
Ollie knocks once, then opens the door without waiting for an answer.
Inside, Jasmine sits behind the desk, feet up. She’s dressed in a velvet jacket over a dress that looks stained God knows what.
She greets me with a smile, like we’re old friends. “Rose! Darling. Come in.”
Ollie closes the door behind me and stands at attention by the wall, eyes ahead.
Jasmine gestures to the chair in front of her. “Sit, please. I want to look at you.”
I sit, my heart in my throat, my stomach in knots.
She stands suddenly, coming around the desk. I tense, but she just walks in circles around me, once, twice, then stops behindmy chair. She leans down, her hot breath on the back of my neck, and I freeze.
“You know what I like about you, Rose?”
I don’t answer. I really don’t want to know what Jasmine Wickersly could possibly like about me.
“You remind me of myself.”
Well, that’s probably the last thing I want to hear.
“When I was young. Before the world tried to break me.” She runs a hand through my hair, gentle, almost motherly. “You’re ripe. Not ready, but close.”
Her tongue licks the rim of my ear, and I jump a little. My stomach goes from slightly nauseous to wanting to throw up right here.
Jasmine laughs again. She moves to stand in front of me, arms crossed. “I want to see what you become. I want to see if you devour the world, or if it devours you.” She touches my hair, a light brush of her fingers. “Either way, it will be beautiful.”
