Infinity Son(73)

“When will I see you again?”

“I’m sure our paths will cross. Take care of your family, Wes.”

“Be safe, Maribelle.”

I head for the parking lot with the bottle of ashes close to my chest. Being a Spell Walker, I didn’t always want to save everyone. Too many people hated me so fiercely, but now, I’m sure of my calling. Pure vengeance.

Out by Atlas’s car, Brighton is waiting by the driver’s seat with his laptop under his arm and backpack over his shoulder. “Do you need some company?” he asks. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not like Emil. I won’t hold you back.”

I nod.

“Let’s go. We have a ghost to kill.”





Thirty-Nine


Firefly


EMIL

Tonight has been beyond miserable. I’m carrying Gravesend’s egg, feeling torn between who needs me the most—do I sit with the group, make things right with Brighton, help Ma and Prudencia pack? I need a break from it all, so I go to the person who isn’t expecting anything from me. Ness didn’t think it was appropriate to be with everyone in the boardroom while we were grieving and strategizing, so I set him up in an old art supplies room. Not a huge upgrade from the closet he was camping out in before, but at least this one has better lighting and smells of paints and paper. He’s staring out the open window, breathing in that fresh air.

I’m still not sure what’s what between us, but for now, he saved me and got the egg from Luna. That’s enough of a spark for trust.

“Everything okay?” Ness asks. “That’s a stupid question, isn’t it?”

I sit in the center of the room, admiring Gravesend’s feathered blue egg as I catch up Ness on everything that’s gone down since we split two hours ago. Eva failed to heal the wounds inflicted by the infinity-ender blade—inflicted by him. I tensely sat between Brighton and Prudencia as Maribelle discovered the true source of her power. Brighton flipped on all of us, and I haven’t seen him around since. Then Maribelle rightfully blamed me for Atlas’s death. I don’t know how I would live with myself if I helped her murder someone, but it would feel a lot easier knowing an assassin was dead instead of a hero.

“Will painting you a picture help?” Ness asks.

“Can you paint?”

“Technically, yeah. It won’t be good, though.”

It’s a lovely gesture, something I would treasure no matter the quality, but it doesn’t feel right to have a painting party when people are panicking as they wrap up their lives so we can evacuate as soon as possible.

“Maybe another time,” I say.

“Can I explain myself instead?”

He keeps his distance, which should make me feel safer, but I’m thrown over how lonely I feel, like we’re both stars in the sky that aren’t close enough to shine brightly together.

“I didn’t want to leave Nova, but you were so ready to risk everything for Brighton. You were ridiculously kind to me, and I had to repay that. But when we were on that roof and Stanton had us cornered, I had to grab the reins.”

“So you laid me out with the urn,” I say. “Then Luna made you cut into me.”

“No, she didn’t make me,” Ness says. “She was furious because I exposed her cemetery plans. I had to convince her I was double-crossing you, and since she wanted to punish you, I volunteered to prove my loyalty to her. It pained me, but it was the only way I could make the best of a horrific situation. Dione wouldn’t have been careful. June would’ve shown no mercy. Stanton would’ve gone too far and possibly killed you.” He can’t look me in the eye. “She believed me.”

“I believed you too,” I say. He would’ve made a great actor in another life.

“Did Eva clean your wounds?”

“No. Between Atlas and how worn out she was from trying to heal me, I didn’t ask for more help. I should be good.”

Ness opens a drawer and pulls out an apron, cutting it up and running the sink. “Take off your shirt. I’ll help you.”

“It’s okay.”

“You have to wash it. Come on.” He squints. “What’s the problem?”

I fidget with the sleeve of my baggy shirt. “I’m not used to someone who looks like you asking me to remove my shirt.”

“Someone who looks like me?”

“Your face is solid and you’re no doubt on top of the rest of your body too.”

“You trying to call me cute and fit?” Ness asks with the hint of a smile.

“In my own words.”

“Look, you’re sweet, but I don’t live in the gym.” Before I can stop him, he removes his shirt and presents himself like I shouldn’t be impressed with his toned chest and build. “It’s not that serious. Believe me, when I first got my powers, I saw dozens of different versions of myself, but I like who I am.”

“Of course you do. I would morph into you if I could.”

“That’s sweeter.” Ness pulls his shirt back on. “Your face is solid too, firefly. I’m sure the same goes for the rest of your body.”

I’m running hot. I know he’s not into me—no one has time for that anyway—but it’s hard to believe him when no one else has ever been able to convince me of this. Smart money is on Ness lying so he can help me and ease his guilt over these scars that I’ll have for the rest of my life.