by Adam Silvera
While Jax is distracted, I run toward the Senator’s office so I can open the window and climb down the terrace. I don’t make it far before I’m telekinetically yanked back so hard that it feels like my spine might snap. I’m suspended in the air, all my joints stiff as Jax rotates me toward him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Jax says with glowing eyes.
Zenon’s voice booms from Jax’s communicator: “Above you!”
We both look up. My heart sinks when it’s not a Spell Walker falling from the ceiling, but a Blood Caster. Dione drops fast like this one time she fearlessly jumped out of a building to escape enforcers. She tackles Jax in front of the office with her six arms, pinning him down before he can defend himself, and she unleashes a flurry of punches on his face and chest.
The telekinetic hold on me breaks.
I have to run. If I’m not fast enough, being locked up won’t be my biggest problem. The Casters will torture me for betraying them, bone by bone. I don’t want to be around to see if Luna succeeded in her ritual. I can’t go through the office without risking Dione grabbing me with one of her arms. I run downstairs, rounding the corner and sprinting through the dining room and into the kitchen. The Senator and Zenon are standing in the doorway, and I skid to a halt. But Zenon knew to expect me, and he slams me against the wall before I can reverse course.
“Why are the Blood Casters attacking?” the Senator asks.
“You tell me,” I say.
“I bring you home and the gang arrives not even twenty-four hours later! If you sent them a message—”
“I ran away from them, remember? You’re the one who spoke with Luna last. Maybe she’s trying to clean her hands of you for good.”
He looks like he wants to throttle me.
“Acolytes approaching,” Zenon says as his glowing eyes flash like twinkling stars. “They’re all armed.” He releases me and aims his own wand at the doorway.
Unless he’s a sharpshooter, I’m our best shot. I take a deep breath, and the familiar gray light washes over me as I transform into Dione. This is the first time the Senator has seen me use my power. I hate that in saving myself I’m also saving him. I step out into the dining room with my shoulders hunched, doing my best to impersonate Dione’s mask of determination when she’s hunting. The acolytes freeze when they see me.
“What are you doing down here?” I bark in Dione’s voice. She’s never patient with the acolytes. “Go upstairs and spread out.”
They follow my orders. This will buy us a minute at most—just until they find Dione laying into Jax. I have to escape before Stanton shows up. If he’s focused on hunting me, my morph won’t mean anything. He’ll be tracking my scent.
“Get to the panic room,” the Senator says as they all come out of the kitchen.
If I’m locked in that room with the Senator, only one of us will come out alive.
“Someone’s coming in,” Zenon says, pointing at a wall without a door.
We’re all confused until my nightmare comes true—Luna and June emerge from the wall holding hands. Luna’s silver hair is dirty, and there’s blood all over the same ceremonial cape she wore the night I got my powers. More bloodstains decorate the stomach of her silky white blouse. If she’s been wounded and is still managing to hold herself upright like this, this must mean she’s won.
She’s unkillable.
Zenon fires multiple spells from his wand but they sail through Luna and June as if they aren’t really there.
Luna’s green eyes study me. “Dione, dear, why haven’t you snapped this fool’s neck?” She’s right. Dione’s allegiance is always to the woman who gave her power when she felt defenseless in the world. “Drop the charade, darling Ness.”
I cross my arms as I revert back to myself.
“Family reunions are so beautiful,” Luna says. “Especially when someone returns from the dead.” She appears distracted for a beat, then pulls herself out of her reverie. “I must say, Senator, this welcome doesn’t feel very welcoming. First we’re greeted with spells, and now no one is even offering us a seat. Get your house in order.”
“Maybe if you’d given us some notice,” the Senator says. “If you’re here for the specter of yours who’s been detained in the Bounds, I cannot advise Bishop to release him under any circumstances. It won’t do well with our supporters.”
Luna waves him away. “I hold no present concerns for Stanton. He’s a soldier who understands the great sacrifices we must make.”
Stanton’s locked up? I don’t even have to know why right now. This is great news.
“Then why are you here?” the Senator asks.
“To discuss our futures. Is the living room this way?” Luna asks as she and dead-eyed June walk past us. “Beautiful dining room, by the way,” she calls over her shoulder, walking through the manor as if she owns it.
Footsteps on the stairs catch my attention. Dione glares at me, four of her arms retreating back into her sides; I clock her bloody fists before they vanish. Jax might be dead.
“Don’t you dare put on my face again,” Dione says to me as she catches up to Luna.
Great. I’ve pissed her off too.
We all gather in the living room, but Dione sends the acolytes to the kitchen. I lean against the fireplace’s mantel, wishing I could shift into a bird and fly out through the chimney. Luna takes a seat in the Senator’s armchair, forcing him to sit on the couch. Zenon seems shifty as he keeps watch on Dione and June.
“I held up my end of the deal, Luna,” the Senator says. “Do you want to explain to me why Eduardo is still alive?”
“If you wanted your son dead, you could’ve gotten your own hands bloody. You still can. By all means.” Luna relaxes into the chair with her hands folded over her knee. “I suspect he’s alive because you recognize the influence his power can have in securing you this election.”
I wave to them. “I’m standing right here. Maybe you can take this discussion about whether or not I should be alive or dead to another room.”
“You’ll be dismissed shortly,” Luna says. “I saved your life when your father sought to make you a martyr. I gave you power and security. Most importantly, I gave you my trust. You betrayed me by divulging my grandest design to the Spell Walkers, and ruined decades of work.” She stops and coughs blood, using the sleeve of her blouse to wipe it from her lips. It’s a beautiful sight; she isn’t unkillable. “I don’t intend to die alone, Ness. For your punishment, you’ll play a role in making sure all of the Spell Walkers go down with me.” She turns to the Senator. “I believe this goal will be of great interest to you as we approach Election Day.”
“I’m winning in the polls,” the Senator says. “What makes you think I need your help?”
“I’ve always admired your commitment to a plan, Senator, but do not forget who ultimately engineered everything,” Luna says. He blushes. “The knowledge I hold on how your son’s powers work will take us both very far in our shared agenda.”
I’m about to shout in her face when Dione dashes in front of me and holds me back with her muscular, tattooed arm. “I’m done working for you, Luna! Both of you!”
“Then innocent lives will be taken,” Luna says. She nods at June, who vanishes.
We’re all kept in suspense as Luna smiles on.
Zenon leans toward the Senator. “The girl is returning with two more people, sir. Both blindfolded.”
I’m expecting one of them to be Emil, but when June finishes reappearing, she’s holding on to the wrists of an older woman I immediately recognize as his mother and a young woman with brown skin and dark hair. June removes the latter’s blindfold. It’s Eva Nafisi, the Spell Walkers’ healer. She has a black eye and bruising across her wrists. She must’ve been forced to heal Luna from whatever wound someone inflicted on her; man, I hope it was Emil who attacked her. June removes Carolina’s blindfold. Carolina is absolutely petrified, as expected of any hostage until a disturbing shock takes over: she’s act
ually seeing Luna and the Senator—the damn presidential candidate—sitting across from one another like a casual evening between neighbors.
Luna locks eyes with me and points at Carolina. “You’ll cooperate, or we’ll cast a spell straight through her head. Eva is a very talented girl, but even this will be beyond her means.”
Carolina is shaking so hard. I won’t be the reason she’s killed.
The Senator smiles—one of those terrible, honest smiles. “What’s the plan?”
“Lock these two away somewhere,” Luna says, gesturing at Carolina and Eva. “Send Ness away. He clearly can’t be trusted to know the work that’s ahead of him.”
“Zenon, escort our guests to the panic room. Reverse the controls from protection to entrapment,” the Senator says. Then another smile, this one playful. “Go to your room, Eduardo.”
If this is some game, I can’t win. I’m not even being given the rules. But I can’t give up yet. There’s got to be a chance where I can cheat my way to victory.
Carolina and Eva struggle as Zenon and June force them downstairs. Dione takes it upon herself to watch after me since she took down Jax.
I look over my shoulder one last time as we leave Luna and the Senator alone. Is this what it was like when they sat down to plot the Blackout—to plot my death? Are they plotting it again?
I wish I’d died the first time.
Twelve
The Luminary Union
MARIBELLE
It doesn’t seem likely that Brighton will survive the night.
A practitioner at Aldebaran was able to inject an antidote, but all that did was slow down the venom. It was too risky to hang around, so we rushed Brighton to the Clayton Center for Recovery out on Long Island, a high-end private practice also run by celestials. If Aldebaran is a single star, this facility is a constellation in terms of how they can assist him. The bill won’t be pretty, but between Brighton’s infected arm and the blood poisoning, he’s going to need around-the-clock attention unless a miracle happens. What he doesn’t need is me here.
I have to go hunt.
I roam the halls. The walls are sterile-white, as if the facility opened this morning, and fixed onto them are bronze sconces shaped like hands to represent their healers. It’s creepy, and I can’t wait until I don’t have to look at them anymore. I finally track down a supplies room, empty some employee’s duffel bag, and load up. My newfound phoenix powers haven’t healed any of my bruising or the cut on my forehead from my fight with June, so I pack a few first-aid kits. I throw in water bottles, a blanket, and I hide the oblivion dagger between folds of gauze before leaving the room.
There’s an indoor garden, where the alchemists grow their own herbs. It’s really serene and inviting, but there’s no time for peace. Not when June and Luna are still alive. Not when they’ve taken Eva and Carolina.
It’s possible Luna has already had them executed. Brighton ruined her life’s work.
I don’t wish a single broken bone on Carolina, but Eva especially doesn’t deserve to be caught in this cross fire.
A couple years ago, Iris’s parents were using a clubhouse for celestial senior citizens as a haven. Mama and Papa had flown to Colombia for humanitarian work, and I’d hung back with the Simone-Chambers family so I wouldn’t fall behind on homeschooling. On the third day of my stay, Eva came into our care after a foster family doubted their abilities to protect her from traffickers. Eva and Iris were magnetized to each other immediately, but wires kept getting crossed. Eva thought Iris was only complimenting her neck scarf because she wanted one for herself, and Iris thought that there was no way that a pacifist like Eva could ever fall for a fighter with powerhouse strength. On the same night I finally convinced Iris to be direct and make a move, Eva surprised her with a swimming lesson in the clubhouse pool. Iris confessed her feelings, and they shared their first kiss while drying up poolside. One of my favorite moments is when we were all scrolling through Pinterest and Iris loved this model’s green hair so much that we locked ourselves in the bathroom to dye her hair the same shade, laughing so hard when we couldn’t scrub away the stains on the floor.
Eva was—no, is—a great friend. She’s loyal to Iris, naturally, but even after Iris and I drifted after the Blackout, Eva regularly checked in on my mental health. I’ll always appreciate how she didn’t take Iris’s side when we all found out that she kept my true lineage a secret from me.
It’s twisted that Eva has been taken by her former best friend, but if Dione harms her, Iris will be sure to rip off her arms, one by one, until they don’t grow back.
I swing the duffel bag onto my shoulder and pass the waiting area that’s closest to Brighton’s room, where he’s still unconscious. Iris is asleep on a bench, and Emil is resting his head on Prudencia’s shoulder. I’m not losing sleep over this, but Emil looking so broken does manage to stop me in my tracks. My parents and Atlas were killed. But Emil has to watch his brother waste away, so soon after going through the same thing with his father, and stars know what the Casters have done with his mother. Grieving before someone is dead is its own beast.
I make my way for the exit, planning on driving back into the city to hunt down any Brew dealers. Threatening to burn them alive, much like celestials have been punished for generations, should get them talking about where they get their supplies.
The doors open before I can reach them, but no one comes in. I stop, and even though my psychic sense isn’t alerting me to any danger, I don’t have a good feeling about this. Then I hear quiet footsteps—whoever is near me certainly has a light step, but Papa personally trained me to have a good ear. I pretend like I’m unaware, and as they pass me, I strike. My fist connects with someone’s forearm. The last time I fought someone invisible was with Atlas, and he had exposed them by creating a windstorm that swept all sorts of trash through the air, and a newspaper pressed against the celestial’s face. I’m all I have.
“Stop!” the invisible intruder—an older woman, I believe—says.
We’ve been found out again, because apparently we can’t trust anyone, not even a facility that is staffed by celestials who have been outspoken against Senator Iron. This invisible celestial has probably been hired to assassinate Brighton. I feel all the more validated about quitting the Spell Walkers; I’m tired of working so hard to save people who have no problem turning on us for money, favors, revenge.
“Prudencia, help!” I shout down the hall.
I back myself against the wall so the intruder can’t sneak behind me and I jump into a scissor kick but I don’t hit her. She tells me to stop again, even using my name, but I follow her voice and hit her with a jab in what feels like her shoulder. Prudencia, Emil, and a groggy Iris come running out of the waiting area, but none of them can make sense of the threat. I go for the crescent kick, aiming for where I’ve calculated her head would be judging by the height of the shoulder, but she catches my foot and shoves me to the floor. I stretch out my hands, dark yellow flames surrounding them.
“WAIT!”
A pale woman in her midthirties appears as quick as a blink—shoulder-length jet-black hair with a signature gold streak, a wrinkle-free white shirt underneath a blue plaid blazer, silver bracelets dangling from one wrist and an emerald watch clasped on the other, and light brown eyes that are frightened by my fire. It’s Congresswoman Sunstar’s running mate, Senator Shine Lu.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“We want to help,” Shine says.
“Who’s we?” Iris asks.
Shine releases my foot and speaks into her wristwatch. “I’ve made contact. Come in.”
The door opens and two women with power-proof vests underneath their black jackets enter. One keeps moving past all of us while the other guards the door after Nicolette Sunstar appears. Sunstar is in a white pantsuit that pops against her dark skin and hair. The click-clack of her yellow high heels infuriates me. Here we all are, beat and bloodied, and Sunstar and Lu are styled like th
ey’re going to a fashion show. We all have targets on our backs, but it’s very clear which of us have to hide out in defunct schools and senior citizen clubhouses and who gets to go home to gorgeous lofts with their own security.
“Hello, Spell Walkers,” Sunstar says.
“How did you find us?” Iris asks.
“You’re not exactly hidden. We’ll arrange for a crew of illusionists to conceal you during your stay here.”
“Fantastic,” I say dryly. “What are you doing here?”
Sunstar looks past us, and her bodyguard signals something with her fist. “How about we have some privacy?”
This better be good. I was finally freeing myself fully from the Spell Walkers, and suddenly I’m following everyone into an empty employee lounge. The bodyguard closes the door on her way out. Sunstar and Lu sit at a round table, and Emil and Prudencia are clearly sheepish about joining them. I don’t care if they’re running for president and vice president, they’re still two women who haven’t been there for us. They don’t get my respect. They shouldn’t get Iris’s either, but she sits down.
“Care to join us, Maribelle?” Sunstar asks.
The last open seat is beside Iris. I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “I’m good standing. What are you and Lu doing here?”
“You can call me Shine,” Lu says. “We’re pleased to meet you all.”
Her name is a very traditional one among celestials, the most popular being Star. I was almost stuck with Skye before Mama came to her senses; a celestial named Skye who can fly is already an annoying nursery rhyme. But I understand the very important branding that Shine is pushing here. Their campaign slogan—Shine Like a Star—is catchy and cute and I don’t care.
Prudencia taps Emil’s hand. “We’re newly eighteen. You’ve got our vote. We attended the Friday Dreamers Festival last month and loved everything you had to say.”
