Page 109 of Hell Bent

“Here?” Michelle did look put together for a work meeting—dark skirt, gray turtleneck, suede boots, and a matching bag. But she worked in gifts and acquisitions at the Butler Library. An errand should bring her to Beinecke or Sterling, not the English department.

“It was the easiest place to meet.”

Alex didn’t have Turner’s sense for truth, that prickle she’d felt when she’d been in his head, but she still knew Michelle was lying. Was she trying to spare Alex’s feelings? Or was she supposed to keep any Lethe business confidential now that Alex had been excommunicated?

“Michelle, I’m fine. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”

Michelle smiled. “Okay, you got me. No meeting in LC. I had to be in New Haven and I wanted to see how you were.”

No one is looking out for us but us. That was what Michelle had said when she’d tried to warn Alex not to use the Gauntlet. Even so …

“All this back-and-forth must be wiping you out. How was dinner with your boyfriend’s parents?”

“Oh, fine,” she said with a small laugh. “I’ve met them before. As long as we avoid talking politics, they’re great.”

Alex considered her options. She didn’t want to spook Michelle, but she didn’t want to keep dancing either. “I know you didn’t go back to the city that night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me you were going back to New York. You said you had a train to catch, but you didn’t leave until the next morning.”

Color flooded Michelle’s cheeks. “How is that any of your business?”

“Two murders on campus means I get to be skeptical.”

But Michelle had regained her composure. “Not that it’s your concern, but I’m seeing someone here and I try to come to town a few times a month. My boyfriend is fine with it, and even if he weren’t, I don’t deserve to be interrogated. I was worried about you.”

Alex knew she was supposed to apologize, to make nice. But she was too tired to play diplomat. She had held Darlington’s soul in her hands, and in it she’d felt the heavy, slumberous tuning of a cello, the sudden, exultant flutter of birds taking flight. If Michelle had stuck her neck out, even a little bit, they might have been better prepared. They might have succeeded.

“Worried enough to show up with a smile,” Alex said, “but not enough to help Darlington.”

“I explained to you—”

“You didn’t have to make the descent with us. We needed your knowledge. Your experience.”

Michelle licked her lips. “You made the descent?”

So she hadn’t talked to Anselm or the board, hadn’t met with the Praetor. Was she really just worried about Alex? Was Alex so unused to the idea of kindness that she instantly distrusted it? Or was Michelle Alameddine a champion liar?

“What are you doing here, Michelle? What were you really doing in New Haven the night Dean Beekman died?”

“You’re not a detective,” Michelle clipped out. “You’re barely a student. Go to class and stay out of my personal life. I won’t waste my time on you again.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd. Alex was tempted to follow her.

Instead she slipped into her Shakespeare lecture. Mercy had saved her a seat, and as soon as Alex was settled, she checked her phone. Dawes was headed to Tripp’s loft to cook.

Alex pinged Turner privately.

Michelle Alameddine is on campus and I think she just lied about why.

Turner’s reply came quickly. What did she tell you?

Said she was running an errand for the Butler Library.

She waited, watching the screen. Doubt it. She doesn’t work at the Butler.

Since when?