Page 44 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

“You . . .” His face goes white. “Aren’t you—”

I rip the wand out of his holster and fire a spell through his heart.

“I’m no one,” I say with my first breath.

The life vanishes from his eyes, and he collapses on me. His corpse is heavy, but I manage to roll him off. I tried to avoid this—so badly—but if it’s my life or someone else’s, there’s no competition. Footsteps are coming my way. If I could swim, I’d throw myself overboard. But I can play dead better than anyone I know. I morph into an acolyte with blood staining my shirt and stay very still, even though my heart is alive and racing. Let everyone think we took each other out.

The Blood Casters failed tonight, but I can make this right.

I have to make this right.

May the stars have mercy on me if I can’t.

Twenty-One

Hope

MARIBELLE

It’s a couple days after Brighton’s campaign before something worthy pierces the news cycle, but this late-night report of an attack on the Brooklyn marina catches my eye. There are images of dead acolytes being bagged up, and that’s all I need to resist Atlas pulling me back into bed. This is a solid lead, and because Atlas is a gentleman, he gets up, and we rush out to his car with our gear.

“The couple that hunts together, stays together,” I say as we take off.

Atlas yawns. “I vote for becoming the couple that stays in together and gets a full night’s rest.”

I had that once—didn’t work for me. The only person I dated before Atlas was Aquila, a powerful celestial who was rescued by Iris’s parents. I was fourteen when I bumped into her outside the haven’s bathroom, oblivious to who she was and why I was so attracted to her. I was able to talk through my feelings with Iris, who’s always understood her heart. Aquila and I bonded over music and strong mothers, but unlike me, she wasn’t committed to the fight and wanted to stay indoors instead. Going off on her because her power was more active and better primed for the fight than mine wasn’t my finest hour. But praying to the stars that everything will sort itself out isn’t me. I get out of bed to make a difference.

“Iris is going to be pissed we didn’t wake her up,” Atlas says.

“If she was really on her game, she wouldn’t need us to.”

“Mari, she can’t be awake twenty-four seven.”

“Why not, she’s the all-powerful celestial who’s going to save the world from itself, isn’t she?”

I can’t believe I didn’t see all her arrogance when we were growing up.

“Sounds more like Emil,” Atlas says. “What people are expecting, at least.?

?

“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—”

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