Page 26 of A Fate Everlasting

“I’m sorry?” My fingers pressed against my neck, against the place where Dorian had…God, I couldn’t even think about it. “Did you just say Dorian’s a Daemon?”

“Yeah,” Ruby nodded as she ran a hand down my arm. “He earns a point per drop. He’ll keep it unless you earn it back.”

I remembered what she’d said on our way to the pub. Luminari were born with celestial blood, the kind that could Ascend into Angels or Fall into Daemons.

I pushed off her lap. Suddenly,horrifically,things were starting to click into place. Maybe Ruby wasn’t insane. Maybe I’d dismissed this all a little too quickly. We’d survived a fall thatshould’ve killed us. Dorian had just drunk from my neck. The tattoos. The mural. The wings.

This wasn’t a cult, or maybe it was. One thing was certain. I’d seen it with my own eyes. Evermore wasn’t just a college, it was a place that turned humans into somethingelse—Angels and Daemons, if Ruby was right.

A gruff noise came from the taxi driver. I stared at Ruby, blinking hard. Rain tracked across the glass, and all I could feel was the vacant thrumming at my neck, like something more important than blood had been taken from me.

“To Evermore,” Hugo instructed as the car moved forward. I jolted forward as the car lurched to a stop, the cab driver spinning round in his seat.

“We don’t go there.”

“Five-hundred pound tip.” Hugo flipped open his wallet, passing forward five crisp notes. “Drop us at the end of the road. Now,drive.”

My muscles, still trembling from adrenaline, relaxed as Hugo’s warmth settled over my shoulders. I breathed in the butterscotch scent of his leather jacket. For the first time in hours, I felt my pulse slow.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I still felt the touch of Dorian on my skin. My mind had a habit of erasing unpleasant things, but this one lingered.

Twelve hours, and Evermore had already taken something from me. I didn’t know exactly what it was, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get it back.

12

The next morning, I was running on adrenaline and the bitter coffee from the dining hall. My head banged hard against the desk. I hissed, rubbing the sore spot as Dorian sneered beside me. I hadn’t noticed I’d fallen asleep, and I wiped away the drool with the corner of my sleeve.

Unfortunately, my timetable had confirmed a brutal reality. I had early morning Angelic History with the Upper Sixth, which meant an hour trapped with Dorian Cavendish. Great.

“Relax, Davenant,” Dorian laughed. I felt my cheeks heat as I straightened, my vision still hazy with the need for sleep and potential bloodloss. He looked too good for this early hour. His uniform looked pristine,ironed,not an immaculate hair on his head out of place. No visible signs of guilt from drinking my blood traced his face, either. Just that same smug arrogance. Maybe that was what bothered me most. “You’re not still sore about the other night are you?” His voice pitched low. “It was just a game.”

I clenched my jaw. “You’re sick.”

He leaned back in his chair, wrist dangling over the desk inthe most insufferably casual way. “Fair’s fair this late into term,” he chided. “It’s your score, or mine.”

“Whatever that means,” I shot back.

He let the moment hang, then shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’m not in the habit of feeding off classmates regularly. Tempting as you are.”

I glanced away, jaw clenched. There were few things in this life I hadeverfound as infuriating as Dorian Cavendish.

“I’d like for this lesson to be a recap,” Godwin announced, entering the room with a little less cheer than usual, it seemed. His circular glasses perched between the pudge of his cheeks and wiry brows. “Do you have a slate yet, Miss Davenant?”

“Sorry?” I frowned. I was watching the door. Dante Darkblood entered, late. Godwin simply nodded once as Dante took the empty seat next to me.

“Aslate.” Dorian waved an object, stone-thin and glossy as a black mirror.

“Competition is at the very heart of our curriculum. You’re ranked against the other students. Without a slate, you should hardly know where you stand!” Godwin chortled at that, and placed a device on my desk. Cold leeched into my fingers the moment I touched it, a heartbeat lingering where it had kissed my skin. It looked almost like a phone, but the technology felt somehow more andlessadvanced at the same time.

“Go on,” Dorian murmured. His smirk was lazy, but his eyes were hunting. “Let’s see how much time you have left.”

The moment my fingers brushed the slate, something beneath my skin hummed, like the Thread had been waiting. The screen blinked to life. I tossed it back onto the desk, folded my arms, and refused to engage. The more I learned, the harder it would be to get out. That’s what Dante had suggested.

“Respect your device, please, Miss Davenant.” Godwinfrowned. He really was in a worse mood than usual. “Read the digits beneath the wordetherfor us.”

Ether.I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the cold glass. A tally board flashed onto the screen, flickering, glitching, before landing on three values. At the top, a single phrase blinked:Ether Scores.

“Aloud, Miss Davenant.”

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