Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle #1)(71)

“Where is Atlas?” I ask.

“Maribelle, I’m so sorry,” Eva says. “There’s nothing I—”

“I know you can’t heal him. Where is he?”

“Downstairs in Wesley’s room.”

I’m running hot again, and if I can’t control myself, that mysterious ring of fire might kill everyone in this room. Seems appropriate since I’m truly a killer now. The boy I love more than anyone else is gone because of me.

“What’s wrong with me?” Atlas isn’t here to calm me down. “I’m heating up.”

“Power advancement?” Eva says.

“I can levitate. Flying higher and further would be a development.”

“You sure your parents didn’t have fire-casting in their bloodlines?” Brighton asks.

Everyone keeps speculating except Iris.

“You know something,” I say as I approach her.

She refuses to make eye contact. “No one knew . . . no one thought this would happen. My parents believed your power had advanced as far as it could. It just came so late, and your blood glistens, and you’ve shown no other signs of being . . .”

“Being what?”

“A specter,” Iris says. “This is phoenix fire, Maribelle. It just surfaced differently than Emil’s. Flight before fire.”

I’m going to blow this building to the ground. “How do you know all of this?”

“I was told everything in confidence. The fact that you’re experiencing both sets of powers is exceptional, especially since . . . especially since Bautista didn’t. He only possessed phoenix fire.”

“What the hell does Bautista have to do with me?”

“No way!” Brighton’s hands fly to his mouth.

“Lestor and Aurora raised you,” Iris says. “They’re your parents, but—”

“Save it, Iris, I don’t care about your secret intel. I’m a Lucero. End of story.”

“You’re Bautista and Sera’s daughter, Maribelle. To our knowledge, you’re the first child born from a specter and celestial.”

No one says anything. Even Wesley stops sobbing and stares in confusion. Emil is the only other person in this room who has a sense of what I’m going through, and even then, our experiences are different. His past life is my biological father. I have no idea when Mama and Papa decided to raise me as their own or how that even unfolded. Was that Bautista and Sera’s idea? Finola and Konrad’s? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why was this a secret?

The question that pains me: “Who else knows?”

“No one,” Iris says.

Even Eva is shaking her head. “Iris, how could you not tell her? This wasn’t some intel like before. This is her family.”

“I was sworn to secrecy! Maribelle, I didn’t want to disturb your history. That wasn’t my place.”

“The hell it wasn’t! You were the only person who knew! Atlas died without ever knowing the real me. I could’ve died never knowing the real me!”

“My job was to protect you. It’s what Lestor and Aurora wanted.”

“Don’t you dare use their memory against me!” Everything suddenly makes sense about why Iris would keep up this lie. “Oh my stars, no wonder you kept it all a secret. You thought that if I knew that I came from Bautista and Sera, then I would take over as leader of the group.”

Iris pops up from her seat and slams her fist on the table so hard that it caves in. “You have never once tried to make this impossible job any easier! You were my best friend, you were like a sister to me, yet all you do is come down on me when something goes wrong, and you never credit me when I get us a win. I have sacrificed my life to lead this group.” I can’t remember the last time I saw Iris crying. “You don’t care about my pain because you think I’m unbreakable, that I’m strong enough to carry everyone on my shoulders. News flash, Maribelle, I’ve been heartbroken since the Blackout too. Thanks for asking.”

I turn my back on her. I’ll never forgive her. I sit beside Wesley and try to understand my life. I’m a celestial and a specter—it’s possible after all. The levitation isn’t an extension of Mama and Papa’s flight. Are their powers the reason they were chosen to raise me? To trick me? If my powers are coming from Bautista, then what do I get from Sera? She had powerful visions, and I have . . . I have good instincts. Intuition when the going gets tough in battle. The dream and sickening gut feeling I had before Mama and Papa left me for the last time—I knew they weren’t going to come back. It wasn’t paranoia, it was a warning.

I could’ve prevented the Blackout if I’d understood and nurtured my power.

“What do we do now?” Brighton asks with some take-charge spirit. “We have a building full of celestials who need to be more involved. I can—”

“You’re not doing anything, Bright,” Emil says.

“You don’t speak for me,” Brighton says with a fire that’s missing around here.

“We’ve got Gravesend’s egg. We won. Luna is screwed.”

“This isn’t what victory looks like.”

“We have been tortured. We’re lucky to be alive. Time to call it quits.”