by Sadie Moss
One week? Are they fucking insane?
These idiots have been chasing their tails trying to find a lead on this guy for how long, and they expect me to do it in just one week? Do I look like some kind of miracle worker to them?
A million snarky responses hover on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them all back down. I have a feeling the only other option on the table is for me to not go after this guy at all, and that’s much worse.
So, fine. If they want to give me a week, then I’ll take a week. I’m going to make a week work, I’m going to find this guy, and they’re going to be groveling over how grateful they are when this is all over. They’re going to let us finish our schooling and keep our magic, or I’m going to fucking die trying, dammit.
“All right. I accept. But I have one question,” I say. “Since you’re only giving me a week, can I put a small team together to help me?”
The Circuit officials all look at each other again, but this time, a few are already nodding.
The broad-shouldered man—Stephen Booker, if I remember correctly—is the one to speak. “Of qualified individuals, yes.”
Oh, thank fuck. That will actually give me a fighting chance.
I immediately list off Dmitri, Asher, and Cam’s names, explaining how they’d contribute to my team. Part of me doesn’t want to bring the guys in on this at all, but I know they’d never forgive me if I didn’t. And besides, I’m not lying to the Circuit officers about how competent and skilled all three men are.
“They’re recently graduated, all excellent in combat, and powerful,” I conclude.
The guys are approved quickly and with little fuss, and Hardwick makes the call to have them come in since I still don’t have my cell phone.
While we’re waiting, my cuff is taken off. I flex my wrist, rubbing at the skin that was covered by the metal brace. Over the past two years, I’ve gotten used to wearing the cuff, but it still feels so damn good to have magic at my fingertips again.
“You’ll need a handler,” Booker says staunchly. “Someone who can make sure you stay in line and keep your magic under control. Roman, I’m sure you would be best for the job, given your background.”
Roman killed his family accidentally as a child, when his death powers sparked. Most Unpredictables get their powers in their early twenties, later in life, as opposed to everyone else who gets them in their teenage years around the same time as puberty. But a very small number of Unpredictables have it the other way around—their powers spark much, much earlier, when they’re young kids.
After Roman killed his family, the magical world was split over what to do with him. Luckily, a necromancer who studied that kind of magic took him in, raised him, and trained him. It’s why Roman’s so good at magic, so in control, and so powerful. He’s always said that I’m very powerful too, but I’ve got nothing on him. The amount of raw magic inside us might be similar, but his unbending control puts him in a league of his own. I’ve seen what he can do, and he could beat most other magic users with both hands tied behind his back.
It’s pretty damn hot, if you ask me.
Roman looks slightly offended at this—which means he’s actually extremely offended and is struggling not to show it.
“I don’t think Miss Sinclair needs a handler,” he says, his voice low and even. “She’s proven herself to be more than competent on her own.”
“Nevertheless, we’d like it if she had someone supervising her. A keeper, of sorts.”
Roman blinks a few times, a sure sign he’s trying to hold in his temper. I don’t blame him. I’m feeling pretty damn offended myself at this whole thing but, what am I supposed to do? And I’d rather have it be Roman than some faceless Circuit officer I don’t even know, some stranger who’s going to look at me like I’m dirt on the bottom of their shoes.
And hey, at least this way I get to have him with me. All of my guys will be with me. If there’s a silver lining to this whole mess, that’s it.
Not to mention—it feels so goddamn good to have my cuff off. It’s like I can breathe again. Roman supposedly will be able to put it back on my wrist if need be, but I know for a fact he’s not going to. I’ve got enough control over my powers now, and he wouldn’t want to shackle me anyway.
Roman must’ve just gone through the same thought process I did, because he catches my gaze briefly before turning back to Booker.
“Understood. Of course I would be willing to accompany Ms. Sinclair on her hunt.”
The Circuit officer gives a sharp nod. “Good. You’ll leave tomorrow.”
Hoo boy. Here we go.
The guys arrive the next day. I can see Cam and Dmitri practically straining not to rush up and hug me. Asher’s more controlled, but I know he’s feeling the same impulse they are. So am I.
I wish I could wrap my arms around each of them and smother them with kisses, but we have to be controlled here. I didn’t request them for my team just because they’re my boyfriends—it’s not like this is going to be some romantic vacation for all of us. But if we get all lovey-dovey in front of the Circuit officials, they’ll assume that’s exactly why I asked for these three, and I’ll be in massive trouble before I’ve even begun.
Roman meets us in the administration area of the complex, and the two of us catch the others up on what we’ve learned. Speaking in low voices, I tell them everything Brodie told me about the vast number of disappearances and deaths among Unpredictables, and how nobody was really aware of it until he started investigating. The guys’ faces go pale, just like I’m sure mine did when I first learned about this. The numbers are pretty fucking staggering.
I can’t help but feel like there has to be some connection between all those Unpredictable disappearances and the attacks on Griffin Academy, but I don’t know what it is. Could one person really be responsible for this much death and destruction? Or is there a wider conspiracy at work here? How many people are we up against?
Regardless of the answer to that, we have to start our search somewhere. The best place to begin is by finding the man behind the attacks on our school, so we dive right into the hunt—with only seven days to locate the asshole and bring him down, we can’t afford to waste a second.
Our first order of business is finding out who this fucker is. And unfortunately, there’s only one way we know of to do that.
Roman drives us to the Circuit facility where Raul and Johnson are being held. Unlike our facility, it’s an actual prison, and my stomach knots and my palms sweat as we pile out of the car. No matter how bad it’s been for us in our holding facility these last few days, this is worse.
I’m also not looking forward to seeing Raul. I thought he was my friend, and from what I understand, he was all alone in the world and this jerk took advantage of that. He manipulated the poor kid into anger, brainwashed him into thinking acts of terrorism and murder were okay.
Even though Raul killed someone, even though he betrayed my trust, I can’t help but feel a little pity for him. There are too many things about the scrawny kid that remind me of myself. If I hadn’t had Maddy, if things had gone a little differently in my life, maybe I would’ve been open to the same kind of manipulation he fell victim to.
We enter the prison and head toward the back, with one of the guards leading the way. Roman’s stone-faced, and Dmitri looks pissed. Only Cam seems at ease.
“Of course you’d be fine at a time like this,” I tease him under my breath.
He nudges me with his elbow. “Hey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people like to have power over you by scaring you. So, if you make it a point to show that you’re not scared, that this is all casual for you… then they don’t have power over you anymore.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“So what are we supposed to do here?” Dmitri asks, and his tone isn’t snarky so much as genuinely desperate for an answer. “They’ve been interrogating these two for months. Trying to crack them. It hasn’t worked
.”
“I can try.” Asher’s voice is soft.
We all pause in the hallway and look at him.
“Asher,” Roman says gravely, “you have to understand. The Circuit has been trying to break the magical wards on Johnson and Raul’s minds for months. Whatever spell this man put on them, it’s strong.”
Ash straightens his spine, determination glinting in his green eyes.
“I can handle it,” he says, his voice still quiet but firm. “I want to at least try. What other chance do we have?” He looks at each of us in turn. “Do any of us have better ideas of how to get a lead on the mastermind’s identity?”
I certainly don’t have any better ideas. And given that I have a bad habit of flinging myself headfirst into danger, I don’t think I’m in a position to judge Asher if he wants to give this a shot. It’s not like he’s risking his life… as far as I know.
“Will it be dangerous?” I ask, looking at Roman. Asher wouldn’t lie to me if I asked him, but he might sugarcoat the truth.
“It’ll be exhausting,” Roman says, his gaze flicking to the quiet, calm man beside me. “But as long as you stop before you expend all of your energy, you should be all right. And we’ll stop you before that happens.”
Asher nods, his jaw set, looking determined.
None of us want to face Raul. I’m not an expert on the whole “breaking into someone’s mind” deal, but I can’t imagine it’s fun for anyone involved, and even though he is technically a murderer… none of us hate Raul. He’s just a kid, he was alone and scared, and someone gave him purpose and mentored him and twisted his mind. How is that truly his fault?
Johnson, on the other hand…
I’ve got zero guilt over whatever pain he might feel.
The guards have Asher go into the interrogation room alone, while the rest of us watch in an adjoining room through one-way glass, like we’re police officers in a cop show. The room I’m looking into is bare, with just a table and two simple chairs. Johnson sits on one side, facing the door. His hands are cuffed to the table so he can’t move, and even though I know he deserves it, my stomach twists like I might be sick. I can’t help but wonder if in a week I’ll be strapped to a table like that as my magic is taken from me.
Asher is led in by a guard and sits down opposite Johnson. “Thank you,” he murmurs to the guard, ever polite.
Johnson glares at Asher with a fuckton of hatred, like he’s wishing that his look alone could poison the brown-haired mage and kill him.
I don’t know how long it took our mystery man to brainwash Raul, but I doubt he had much trouble at all persuading Johnson to do what he did at the Trials. The ex-provost was probably leaning that way anyway—and with such a powerful mind and magic like Johnson has, it would have been too difficult to completely dominate him. Johnson acted, at least partially, of his own free will.
He truly hates Unpredictables, and I hate him right back for it.
“Well. I see the Circuit still hasn’t done the right thing,” the bland-looking middle-aged man says, his voice a hiss. “Taking your unclean magic away.”
Asher ignores him, because my boyfriend is a better person than I am. I don’t even realize I’m growling low in my throat until Cam takes my hand, squeezing it gently.
I blow out a breath, squeezing Cam’s hand back as Ash rests his palms on the table, then closes his eyes.
For a moment, nothing happens. The room is completely silent, its two occupants as still as statues. Johnson’s sitting there looking smug, like a toad, an awful little smirk twisting his lips.
And then… the look on his face changes.
It grows concentrated, his brow furrowing. Asher’s face is twitching, his jaw clenching and unclenching rhythmically. Long minutes tick by, and sweat starts to bead on both of their foreheads.
Johnson’s face is going red. I clutch Cam’s hand so hard I must be cutting off the circulation, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Asher’s pressing his hands hard onto the table, like he’s using it to brace himself, and I want to go in there, I want to hold him or try to feed some of my strength and power into him. He can’t keep this up much longer, he looks like he’s about to pass out—
Then Johnson gives a small, odd noise of pain and anger. Asher slumps back in his chair with a gasp, his chest heaving, sweat sliding down his temples. His eyes fly open.
He looks over at the mirror, even though he can’t see us, and nods.
Oh, thank fuck.
He’s got something.
Chapter 11
Before we go, we’re allowed to meet with a few others to say goodbye. It’s not a lot of time at all—Kendal gets in a quick, fierce hug, and I promise her I’ll try to stay safe.
As if safety’s actually my priority. I’m catching this bastard, no matter what it takes.
The final people we meet with are a few of the Griffin admins and professors. To my surprise, they’re acting like they’re going to keep teaching people—even though all of us have cuffs on, so we can’t actually do magic. The professors all passed their exams years ago, so they technically should be able to do magic with no cuffs on, but they’re not allowed to in this facility. And it wouldn’t do too much good anyway, since their students are the ones who need to practice.
“Still, we certainly can’t sit around and do nothing,” Hardwick says, a fiery note in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “The students deserve to learn. That’s what we promised them, and that’s what we’re going to deliver. Especially the third years. If we can get in as much training as possible… focusing specifically on training for the final exams… it’s not ideal, but if we can get them to pass their exams and get their licenses, at least some of the students will be saved from the threat of having their powers taken. They’ll be able to legally practice magic.”
A lump forms in my throat. I don’t know how to tell him that even Unpredictables who have passed their exams aren’t safe anymore—but then, I think Hardwick already knows that. But like he said, what other choice do they have, really? Lie down and take it? I know I wouldn’t.
“I didn’t know you had such a rebellious streak.” Pushing down my worry and sadness, I grin at him, shaking my head. I honestly didn’t know he had it in him.
Hardwick, to my surprise, gives me a sly smile. “Someday, Miss Sinclair, you’ll have to remind me to tell you about some of the things I got up to in my day.”
Oh, really?
I wonder if this is why he’s always seemed to have a soft spot for me—maybe I remind him a bit of himself when he was younger.
Who would’ve thought?
Tamlin’s talking to Roman by the door as the rest of us get ready to head out. My heart skips just a little in nervousness. She and Roman used to date, and last I knew, she still had feelings for him—and even though I know she’d never act on them or try to steal someone’s partner, I can’t help but feel guilty. Not that I ever did anything wrong. She and Roman had already broken up by the time I met him. But Tamlin’s a woman I admire, and I hate to think I’m playing a role in making her unhappy, even though I know that’s not at all logical.
The two of them hug just as I walk up. They’re smiling softly at each other, and I’m glad to see that despite them no longer being together romantically, they’re still friends. Roman is a very reserved person, and he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life, just by nature of his upbringing. I want him to have more people to open up to.
They break apart, and Tamlin turns to me. “I hope you’ll stay safe,” she says quietly as she—pulls me in and hugs me.
Woah. I did not expect that. Not in the slightest. I hug her back automatically, surprised.
“Look after yourself,” she whispers. “Please be careful. And know that everyone here is rooting for you. I’m so glad to have met you.”
She doesn’t sound at all like my poised teacher in this moment. She sounds more like we’re equals, maybe even friends.
Tamlin, like Roman, is only abou
t five years older than I am. It’s easy to forget that though, since she’s so powerful and intimidating and has an almost ageless quality about her.
I like Tamlin a lot, but there’s always been a bit of a division between us, a line between teacher and student. But now… all the lines are blurred. We’re not in school, our fate is uncertain—hell, my life is kind of in the balance here. I’m under no illusions that if I find this guy and fail to capture him, he’s gonna kill me. I don’t know how it could go any other way. Or I might just fail to find him at all, and my magic will be ripped from me, and a whole fucking subset of our community lose their powers and be cast out of society.
Everything’s upside down. Everything’s about to go into the toilet. And so the normal dictation of who’s who and what we are to each other… it doesn’t seem to apply anymore.
I tighten my hold on Tamlin and feel her squeeze me back in response.
Then we pull away, and she nods and smiles at me before the guys and I head out the door.
I’m allowed to have my cell phone now that I’m out, and the first thing I do when we get into the car is call Maddy again.
“Ellie!” Clearly, she’s recognized me on her caller ID. When I called her using the landline at this damn place, she answered all businesslike, probably thinking it was a wrong number. “Are you okay?”
“I’m doing fine,” I tell her, which is… technically correct, even if it doesn’t feel like the real truth.
“Are you guys out of the facility? Are they letting you go back to school?”
“Not exactly. Um. Here’s the thing.”
I explain to her what’s going on. How I’m going after the guy who’s been behind all of this, and how I have a week to do it, for the sake of all Unpredictables.
“Well, I should join you,” Mads says at once. “The guys are with you, why can’t I be? I can help!”
