Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle #1)(21)

“Don’t!” If the police officer who shows up doesn’t like specters, they will stop seeing me as a victim and treat me as nothing but a walking weapon. They might even get enforcers involved. “I just want to be done with this.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ma says. “Speaking to the police will be good so we can get your attacker off the streets.”

I have no intention of letting Orton actually roam wild. I just needed to catch my breath before everything comes out, but the sucker-punching guilt makes me want to spit it out. “I get it, I—”

“Let him breathe, Ma,” Brighton interrupts. “You can’t force him to speak up before he’s ready.”

“It’s okay,” I cut in. I look up at Brighton. “Enforcers are going to find out anyway.”

“What enforcers?” Ma asks.

I sit up in bed with Prudencia’s assistance. “This dealer at the park was selling some new drug, and things got out of hand. He and his partner followed us onto the train and came at us with his powers. And I . . .” Everything feels so chaotic in my head. “I defended us with my own.”

These powers are mysterious and terrifying, and I don’t know how I’m going to bounce back from this.

Ma holds herself up by the wall as she walks to the chair, but can’t make it before her knees give up on her. I throw the blanket off and shoot to her side, taking her hand in mine.

“You okay, Ma?”

There are tears in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

I don’t feel okay, inside or out.

“Emil saved us,” Prudencia says. “He’s a hero.”

“You could’ve told me you had powers,” Ma says with a crack in her voice.

“Today was the first time. The dealer tried throwing Brighton onto the tracks, and I panicked and got really hot, and suddenly my fist was on fire.”

Ma takes my hand and inspects it, but there’s no marking. “Fire-casting wasn’t part of our bloodline.”

We’re all quiet. Brighton is staring at me like I’m some stranger who needs to spit it out.

“Please believe me, Ma, but . . . I think it’s phoenix fire. I didn’t do this to myself—”

“No one wakes up with phoenix blood inside of them, Emil!” This is the second time this week Ma is shouting, but she’s even more consumed in fury and disappointment now. I feel like a kid all over again. “You know what I’ve seen patients go through, what we saw your father suffer through, and you got involved with blood alchemy anyway?” She turns to Brighton. “I take it you have powers of your own too, huh?”

“I don’t have powers,” Brighton says. “Emil didn’t do this to himself. If you watch the video—”

“What video?!”

“Someone recorded the fight,” Brighton says. “Watch and you’ll see that Emil is just as surprised as anyone else.”

The chaos of the video begins, and I force myself to look after seeing the horror and heartbreak on my mother’s face as she watches us get rattled around by Orton. I feel guilty for a fight I didn’t start. I hear the burst of fire, followed by the stillness of the quiet car, and from the corner of my eye I see Ma shaking, well past the video’s ending.

“I’m so sorry, my Emilio, I’m sorry for not believing you,” Ma says. “But now I don’t know how to protect you. What if that man hunts you down to retaliate? What if the enforcers find us at home? I cannot lose you too. . . .”

I was counting on my mother to reassure me that everything will be okay, even if it was an empty promise, but she’s already so defeated, and my panicking keeps increasing and increasing, screaming at me to do the only thing that feels right.

“I need a second by myself.”

“I’m going with you,” Brighton says. “Alone together.”

It’s been a while since we’ve joked about being alone together. Whether it was in our bedroom or riding the train together, we could always go into Alone Mode. And no one disturbs Alone Mode. But this is different.

“Alone-alone. Sorry, I need to wrap my head around all of this.”

“I’m here if you need me,” Brighton says.

“Me too,” Prudencia says.

I leave the room and rush toward the nearest exit. I assumed I was at Ma’s hospital, but several practitioners here are all dressed in midnight-blue cloaks with speckled stars. I can’t believe I ended up in Gleam Care, but I’m getting out. Between my long legs and New York speed, I’m already such a fast walker, powering through all soreness, and I don’t stop until I’m a couple blocks away from the hospital.

I’ll go back home, pack a bag, and come up with a battle plan. I’m praying some shelter for celestials will take me in, even though I’m a specter. Someone’s got to help the famous Fire-Wing on his life-changing, life-ending day, right?





Eleven


The Blood Casters


NESS

I’ve been role-playing my entire life. Too bad my line of work won’t ever get me the audience I once dreamed about.

Times Square is extra hellish this evening. Tourists are lining up around the block to see some show about a historical privateer. Casting sheets were circulating in sophomore year, and I didn’t bother auditioning because I swore it wouldn’t grow beyond whatever small theater hosted the show. Going ahead and blaming my inherited arrogance for that error. That could’ve been my face lighting up on the Broadway marquees. I always imagined my acting career would involve action blockbuster movies and award-winning indie roles and musicals that get all the love on Tumblr. Instead I’m shape-shifting into whoever the Blood Casters need me to become.