Page 1 of The World Undone

1

MAX

“You look fucking exhausted.” Izzy’s nose scrunched in concern as the toe of her boot kicked up some loose dirt on the path.

I narrowed my eyes. “You know, that’s not generally something a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.” I pointed to the dark circles under her eyes, fuller and more visible than I’d ever seen them. “Besides, you’re not exactly looking spry and wide-eyed yourself.”

It was great having Izzy around, even if I hadn’t had much time to hang out with her since the whole burning-down-The-Guild-Headquarters-and-turning-all-of-our-lives-upside-down thing.

There was a hardness, a darkness around her edges that wasn’t there before.

Izzy was the person I always associated with love and light and giddy happiness. That’s how she always made me feel when I was around her, anyway.

But this world wasn’t really suited to those things anymore—not when we were at the fucking heart of it, fighting our way through with tooth and claw.

And as bubbly and kind as Izzy was, she could also be a fucking force when she wanted to be. The best of both worlds, wrapped up in one package.

The girl who’d taken me shopping and snuggled into my side during countless vampire moviethons was hardened now.

Like I was, I supposed.

Heading a secret spy initiative against The Guild from inside the belly of the beast would do that to a girl.

Still, in a perfect world, she wouldn’t need to wear such tarnished armor or be plagued by the nightmares I knew haunted her now. I could see her wariness in the lines of her posture, the dark, distant look that would occasionally eclipse the light in her eyes. Even when she tried to hide it, I knew it was there.

I shouldn’t be surprised that she was concerned about the same shadows haunting me.

I took a deep breath, embracing the cloying chill that kissed the tip of my nose. It was strange, these moments of peace—how at odds they were with the world I knew now.

Part of me wanted to linger here, on this worn path with Izzy, forget about everything else for a little while. I wanted so desperately to protect all of my friends from the difficulties that inevitably lay ahead, but I was powerless against them.

She shoved my hand away with a dark laugh. “Yeah, I guess ushering in the apocalypse doesn’t exactly come with a girl’s proper dose of beauty rest. We’re all exhausted, but that’s not what I mean.”

I yawned, as if proving her point. “I’ve been using what energy I can spare to help heal everyone. That’s probably what you’re picking up. It’ll pass. Eventually.”

A lot of the people we’d pulled from the labs were in rough shape. I couldn’t help much with the mental and emotional trauma—of which there was undoubtedly a lot—but I did what I could for the physical.

Even that was limited though.

My ability to heal people outside of my bond group was minimal at best. Magic feasted on emotion, on connection. That kind of thing couldn’t be forged falsely, no matter how badly I wanted to help everyone else with the ease I healed Six.

Still, that didn’t stop me from draining my strengths day in and day out to try. It was the least I could do after bringing so many people here and draining the Lodge’s resources.

She sighed, deep and heavy, and I felt her studying me from the corner of her eyes, a shrewdness piercing through the mask of levity she tried so hard to don. Izzy was the sort who could be down to her last morsel of food, and she’d still be concerned that those around her weren’t getting enough to eat.

The girl was a titanium fucking needle in a burning pile of hay—one of a kind, and she came out forged stronger from the flames.

“Maybe. And I don’t doubt that using your power is draining. Or that your team is draining you in other, more…pleasant ways.” She shot me some knowing—and approving—side-eye. “But there’s something more than that going on with you—” she scrunched her nose again, lost in thought, “something deeper, not just physical. An existential sort of exhaustion. So do me and favor and just level with me. Are you doing okay? Shit storm aside, I mean, obviously? You’d tell me if I had to worry about you, yes?” She snorted, “apart from how much I already worry about you, that is.”

I took a deep breath and considered the question, weighing the possibility of answering as honestly as I could. But the truth was, I had no idea what ‘okay’ even looked like anymore. It wasn’t a form I’d had the luxury to wear in a long time.

Every chance we had to take a breath, it was like we were pulled back under by another surprise wave—the new one often larger and angrier than the one before it.

We rarely caught a break. Drowning felt like an inevitability these days. It was just a matter of how long we could stave it off. But an umbrella couldn’t hold long against an ocean.

Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it.

She gave me space and time to articulate my answer as we walked a long, winding path through Lake Cadaver’s grounds.

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