Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle #1)(44)

“I don’t want to say it to Emil’s face, but the wrong brother got powers. Emil’s sensitivity and resistance to fighting is much more suited to doing all the behind-the-scenes activity. Brighton’s take-charge attitude paired with those powers could’ve been truly revolutionary for us.”

“I believe in Emil. He’s doing his best.”

“I hope his best gets better.”

We park minutes away and almost bump into a couple holding hands as they exit a bodega, carrying groceries. I’m envious. No one is expecting them to save the world. They’re not trying to avenge the deaths of their parents. They get to hold hands and breathe in peace. I’m tempted to reach for Atlas’s, but we have to keep our hooded heads low under the moonlight and not draw attention to ourselves as we continue our late-night mission.

There’s yellow tape stretched across the dock. All the body bags and police are gone. I step in puddles of blood that haven’t dried yet, and I’m adding more crimson footprints to the grimy wooden panels. I investigate the insides of a metal cargo crate, using my phone’s flashlight to expose the claw marks and scattered fur.

“Hydra,” I call out, and my voice echoes within. I step out. “Luna must be creating another specter.”

Atlas is standing still and staring at the blood.

“What’s wrong?”

“So many deaths. Mari, if I die during battle—”

“We’re not having this talk.”

“—I want to be cremated. I don’t want some open casket funeral where my body is stitched back together from whatever takes me out and people remember me wrong. I want my ashes scattered somewhere . . . maybe even tons of places.”

We’re too young to be thinking about this. But my parents died without me ever knowing what they wanted. Not that they had bodies to bury, ashes to spread.

“Noted,” I say. “Same for me, I guess.”

Maybe we’ll die together, sooner or later, and our ashes can be thrown into the same winds.

Someone’s watching us, I can feel it thrumming through me like the sixth sense that aids me in battle. I look up and there’s a girl in acolyte gear standing at the dock. When she sees me, she runs.

“Mari, wait!”

I get a running head start and jump into the air, gliding straight into her. I flip her over and see she’s small with long blond hair. Her big eyes are frightened as I pin her down, my forearm against her throat. “When I let you breathe you need to tell me where Luna is. Understand?”

The girl sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t know where she is. Luna is always moving around, and I go where I’m told. I snuck out of housing to see if my sister died in the attack.”

“Your sister?” Atlas asks.

“I followed in her footsteps and devoted my life to Luna so we could one day be given powers. But she didn’t return tonight, and . . .”

“Ease up, Mari,” Atlas says. “She’s a kid who doesn’t know better.”

I get off her and cross my arms. “What’s your name?”

“Hope.”

“Okay, Hope. I’m Atlas. Do you know anything about the mission? Why Luna wanted the hydra?”

“Not really, but she’s working us all double time to intercept that hydra from the traffickers. Since we failed here, all of the Blood Casters will have to bust into the Apollo Arena’s cage match tomorrow night to retrieve the hydra before it gets harmed.”

“Does that include a celestial girl who is untouchable?” I ask.

She tenses. “Yes.”

“Who is she?”

The acolyte looks around like someone might snipe her if she says another word. “I don’t know much, except that she’s an assassin named June who was contracted to kill the Spell Walkers. The ones before you.”

The Blackout.

I grab and shake her. “How did she pull it off? Was she working alone?”

“I don’t know! But Luna is very proud of her.”

“Anything else?” I ask.

Hope shakes her head. “Please take me in, I can’t go back,” she begs.

“Luna doesn’t even know who you are,” I say.

“We appreciate your help,” Atlas says, playing good celestial. “But we’re caught in the cross fire of this war, and if you truly want to escape the Blood Casters, your best bet is leaving town. Do you have any other family?”

Hope looks like she might cry.

I’m not dealing with her.

I walk to the edge of the dock and try to breathe. I shut my eyes and June’s face comes into the darkness.

She killed my parents.

I’ll snuff out her light.





Twenty-Two


Cage Match


EMIL

“Tell your mother how that makes you feel,” Eva says during our morning therapy session.

Talking about the big family secret is difficult, but I don’t want to keep shutting her out. “I can’t trust you,” I say to Ma with my eyes to the floor. “I mean, I trust you, but I feel stupid for doing so now. I know you love me and that you wanted the best for me, I get that. I always felt safe around you and Dad.”

Ma nods. “Do you think you would’ve been okay with us telling you as a child?”