The Gray Institute (The Gray Institute Trilogy Book 1) (43 page)

Lucrezia hasn't caught up with us yet – Amber is obviously being difficult to find – which gives Malachy plenty of time to sabotage my attempt to save him.

I never thought the day would come when I would be wishing Lucrezia was here, but so it has, and she is not.

'Mal, think about what you're doing,' I beg him as he strides along the corridor, utterly ignoring me. 'I'm going whether you like it or not. If you do this, you're not helping anybody, you're only hurting yourself.'

'You listen to me!' He hisses, shouting as loudly as it's possible to shout in a silent corridor with Sir Alec's office ten feet away. 'You are not leaving this Institute. You are not attempting to leave this Institute. I do not care what you say, what idiotic schemes you and that girl come up with, or how much trouble you try to get yourself into. You. Are not. Leaving.'

'Or what, Mal?' I raise an eyebrow, folding my arms rebelliously.

'Or nothing. I won't let you.' He hisses menacingly.

'Why?' I question him, watching as his brain ticks, mulling it over.

'Because it's against the rules.' He answers lamely before turning his back on me and continuing on his way. I snort loudly and he hisses at me to shut up.

'Malachy,' I plead with him as we near Sir Alec's door. 'Don't!' I try to grip his arm as he rounds the corner but he shrugs me off with ease. 'Malachy, don't you dare!' I warn him, though even I know it's an empty threat.

The guard nods at Malachy familiarly and opens the study door, poking his head inside and announcing loudly.

'Malachy Beighley and...' He stops as Malachy shakes his head, warning him not to announce my arrival.

The guard stands aside, allowing Malachy through as I shrink helplessly against the wall. My plan to save Malachy has been foiled by Malachy himself. What's worse, he's sabotaged it willingly, knowing the consequences for himself if I do decide to escape – which he truly believes I won't.

Malachy's issue is that he refuses to acknowledge that I have every intention of leaving with Lorna. Perhaps if he knows it really is happening, he'll start helping rather than deliberately hindering.

Though I can't deny that the thought of leaving Malachy makes my stomach churn, having him on board is the only way to save both Lorna and myself.

Chapter Twenty-Five

As always, Malachy's room is immaculate and over-organised. His bedsheets hold his scent, the silky fabric soft and warm as I run my fingertips over it. I stand beside the beautiful view from the rear facing window and imagine Malachy perched on the sill, his brilliant mind deep in thought.

The view must be a favourite of his as the desk is positioned directly in front of it, his laptop closed, an A4 notepad open at a blank page. I flick idly back through the pad; it's mostly just course work, Theory and Biology notes. His handwriting is elegant and neat, like himself.

The notepad falls open to the centre page, the book blooming like a spring flower, and what lies at its heart sends my breath spiralling out of my lungs. In thick black ink, screaming boldly across the middle of the page are three letters:

EVE
.

In Malachy's handwriting, my name is carved with a black cartridge pen. There for his eyes only, not intended for anyone else's use, but with him during lessons, carried in his hand all day long. I feel a surge of happiness, like a little firework set off in my abdomen. My face breaks into an enormous grin of its own accord, sending my cheeks into an achy, twitching fit.

I hug the notepad to my chest, like a love-struck teenager, unable to tear my eyes from that single, familiar word.

Malachy will be back any minute and he'll be looking for me. I shouldn't even be here. I've broken into his room without permission and, though I know he won't mind, if somebody else caught me here I'd be in serious trouble.

But I doubt even Malachy would be alright with me rifling through his belongings.

I set the notepad back on his desk, my mind already filled with images from that moment in the lift; his blue eyes fixed on mine, wary and unsure, his breath on my neck...

The notepad slides open to a different page; this one is also used, it too has a word sprawled across the centre in thick black ink and elegant handwriting:

ALEKS
.

I double-take, the name jumping out at me like a ghoul in a horror film. Like a black cloud, my jealousy hangs over me, threatening to spill over the edges like an overflowing bathtub. I feel rage boil in the pit of my stomach, growing stronger and stronger as I gradually relinquish my self-control.

My common sense screams at me to get a hold on myself, that I shouldn't be snooping through Malachy's things in the first place, that I have no claim over him – but my irrational mind won't listen. 

I'm so caught up in my inappropriate angst that I don't hear the door open and close behind me, don't sense Malachy's presence or catch his scent – such is the depth of my jealousy.

'What are you doing?' It's the second time in an hour he's asked me that question, but this time, it's asked significantly less pleasantly.

I jolt into action, spinning around to face him, my eyes darting for an excuse to be looking through his things.

'Nothing!' I protest, whilst the open notepad flaunts its contents behind me.

Malachy steps forward, advancing on me inch by inch, his face carved from stone. He peers over my shoulder, his tense frame only inches from mine, and, as he spies the black and white page, he sighs loudly, his tension dissipating.

'You weren't supposed to see that.' He states the obvious. I keep quiet, caught between going on a violent, jealous rampage and keeping a dignified silence.

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, something my dad always used to do when he was stressed with work, and breathes another sigh. 'I – ' He starts to say something but thinks better of it, backing away and slumping down onto his bed. He hangs his head, blond strands of hair falling forwards across his face, and breathes slowly.

'I'm sorry, Eve,' He says finally, his tone void of emotion. He runs a hand through his soft hair and keeps his gaze on the floor as he struggles to find the words he wants to say.

'Involving myself with you...' He shakes his head. 'It was a mistake.'

My stomach jolts as though it's been shaken by a physical force, my heart twists in my chest and I feel embarrassed, angry and wounded all at once. I fold my arms and focus on trying not to sound like a petulant child.

'A mistake?' I raise an eyebrow, as confused as I am hurt.

'Not like that,' He sighs, pausing a moment before speaking again. 'Do you remember that day, by Lorna Gray's window when you asked me why I was helping you?' He asks, finally glancing up to look at me. I nod my head slowly, feeling a sudden wave of dread.

'You were right.' He shrugs, his statement so simple and yet so complex. I wait for an elaboration that doesn't come.

'I was right?' I repeat.

'Yes,' he nods. 'You were right. I was helping you because you look like her. Because you remind me of her.' He indicates the notepad, where Aleks' name still lies bare for the world to see.

'Oh.' I breathe shakily, a crushing sensation in my chest making respiration a struggle. He's only told me something I already knew, and have known for a long time, but his confession and its bluntness come as no subtle blow.

'She was everything to me,' He continues. I fight an overwhelming urge to place my hands over my ears. These are words I don't want to hear.

'I loved her,' He shrugs. 'I still do. And I hold myself responsible for what happened to her. It was my fault; I knew what would happen if I got involved with her but I did it anyway. My arrogance overshadowed my common sense.

If I cared for her as much as I should have done, I would have left her alone. But I was selfish, I wanted her, and in pursuing her, I sealed her fate.'

'Malachy,' I frown, forgetting my own pain as I listen to his words. 'You are not to blame for what happened to Aleks. What happened to her was down to the people who put her where she is. The people who condemned your relationship.'

'I should have known better,' He shakes his head, dismissing my words. 'I knew, when Lucrezia started talking to Aleks and befriending her, I knew something was wrong. I just wasn't clever enough to work out what it was.'

'You mean you weren't sinister enough to imagine that your sister would be so callous as to take away the person you loved by creating a malicious lie!' I rage. 'It was Lucrezia wasn't it?' I take a seat next to him at the end of his bed. 'Lucrezia made up the rumour that Aleks had broken the law?'

'Yes,' He sighs eventually, his shoulders sagging, as though an immense weight has been lifted. 'She's never admitted it to me. Neither has my family. But I know it was her.' He nods gravely, his expression racked with guilt, grief and betrayal.

'Then why do you stay with her?' I ask. 'You're the future Auctorita, surely you could do something about her?'

'It's not that simple,' He shakes his head. 'Yes, I'm the future Auctorita and yes, I have power and status over Immortals, but it doesn't mean I can just do what I like. If anything, I have to tread even more carefully.

If I were to turn against Lucrezia, my father would know why, he would figure out it was because of Aleks and he would allow Lucrezia to reign instead.'

'Why?' I frown.

'My father – ' Malachy sighs. 'My father despises any display of what he deems 'weakness.' He wasn't happy when I started seeing Aleks, I think he saw a change in me and didn't like it. So when Lucrezia came to him with her story about Aleks breaking a law, he saw it as a blessing.

If I were to turn against Lucrezia because of Aleks...' He blows his fringe upwards, shaking his head. 'He'd see it as me choosing my weakness rather than choosing the strength I'm supposed to have as Auctorita. Lucrezia is perfect to my father in that sense, she's cold, callous, cruel, even.

If I ever revealed my true self to my father, I know he would choose Lucrezia to reign instead.

That must never be allowed to happen. I must become Auctorita – my life, the lives of every Immortal and Aleks' depend on it. That's why I have to keep up this pretence.'

I take Malachy's words in, breathing them like oxygen. His revelation that he will become Auctorita in part to save Aleks comes as no shock to me. Of course his first task as Auctorita will be to save the woman he loves from a horrible fate concealed in the Confine, wouldn't it be anyone's?

But at the same time, it's his duty to become Auctorita in order to stop Lucrezia from taking his place.

Both selfish and selfless in his actions, I feel a rush of warmth for Malachy as his personality only deepens in my eyes, revealing more likeable and admirable qualities.

'You still love Aleks.' I nod, though the admission is a difficult one to acknowledge. The fact that Malachy feels nothing for me should come as no surprise and yet it does.

He nods sincerely.

'Good luck, Malachy.' I smile, taking his hand in my own. His skin is smooth and soft and as he grips mine back, an overwhelming sadness washes over me.

In another time, in another place, perhaps Mal and I could have been different. But with both our fates sealed for us, and such different paths ahead, I know we must say goodbye.

I slide my hand from his and vacate the bed, heading for the door, my heart and steps heavy. I daren't turn back to him – I have no need to, his face is forever burned into my mind – but I don't want to see his sadness, coupled with my own it will be too much to handle.

'Eve?' He calls me back and I sigh, turning reluctantly to see his morose expression, his blue eyes pleading. 'Don't help Lorna Gray. I'm begging you.'

I shake my head, running a desperate hand through my hair as the stress of the situation takes its toll. 'You don't understand Malachy...'

'No, you're right, I don't,' He interrupts me, standing to meet me in the centre of the room. 'What business is it of yours what Lorna Gray wants? You say you're escaping to avoid certain isolation by Sir Alec if you fail in your task, and maybe you're right, maybe he will isolate you, but then why not escape on your own?

The penalty would be significantly less than if you took the headmaster's daughter away. I don't understand it, so enlighten me.'

'The penalty would be the same.' I argue, but Malachy shakes his head.

'You don't know that. I could influence the Auctorita's decision if you escaped by yourself. But taking Lorna Gray with you? A human who knows far too much of our world and who also belongs to Sir Alec? That's out of even my jurisdiction. I know you, Eve, there's something you're hiding.'

'You know nothing about me.' I frown.

'So enlighten me.' He challenges once more.

I sigh deeply. I've told no one at the Institute about my past, not Tia when she pressed me, not even Diana. It's not something I wish to share about myself, especially not the part which concerns the reason for my feelings towards Lorna Gray.

But Malachy didn't wish to share his past with me, I found out by using more sinister means, I feel responsible for that. Doesn't it sit right with the balance and equality of our friendship that he know of mine?

'You of all people shouldn't have to ask me that. I'm doing it for the same reason you helped me. Because I failed someone in my past, and I want to set things right. To redeem myself.'

Malachy continues to stare at me, so I take his hand and reluctantly lead him back to his bed, to resume our former positions, with reversed roles. Now I must confess my wrong-doings to him, lay myself bare for little more than his understanding.

Where to begin, I have no idea. I wrack my brains for the start of my sordid life's tale and decide that it began with my decision to take the wrong path.

'When I was young, I was by all means a good girl,' I begin, avoiding Malachy's gaze as I cast my memory back to those hazy days. 'I got good grades, I had good friends and I was a model daughter for my parents. But at fourteen, I fell in with a bad crowd.

People always use that expression like it was out of their control, like all their bad deeds can be explained away because they 'fell in' with the wrong group of people. I wasn't baited, convinced, bribed or threatened to be friends with these people – I chose to.

They were older than me, most of them didn't go to school, either because they'd finished or they played truant on a daily basis. They were all different types of people but the one thing they had in common was drugs. They loved drugs, it didn't matter what type; they did anything they could to get their hands on one bag of marijuana, one pill of ecstasy.