Page 50 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

Gray light washes over Eduardo, and he shrinks into a shorter white girl dressed in acolyte gear. He plays with the long blond hair and stares at Maribelle with bright blue eyes. “Have hope,” he says in a high voice.

“I don’t get it,” I say.

Maribelle glares. “She—he—was Hope, the acolyte at the dock who tipped me off about where we could find June and the other Blood Casters.”

“I knew you were gunning for her because of that YouTube interview. Figured I would give you what you want.” Eduardo morphs back into himself. “If you’re pissed that I manipulated you, then go ahead and release me. It’s win-win for me as long as I don’t sell out Luna.”

I can’t believe the boy we have chained up is the one who has us cornered. He’s definitely the son of a corrupt politician.

“You’re right that we won’t let you go,” Maribelle says. “If you’re not going to tell us how you’re alive or who June is or what Luna is up to, then you leave me with no other choice but to beat it out of you.”

She arches her fist. I speed forward and catch her punch with both hands. I can’t know what she’s going through in trying to avenge her parents. The only mystery revolving around Dad’s death is whether or not he would’ve lived longer if he hadn’t gone for the clinical trial. Maribelle’s heart may be in the right place, but she can’t come undone to get answers. I have to believe the person who helped train me is better than this.

Maribelle rips her fist out of my grip. “You have no idea what the hell you’re doing. You’ve been here for what, two weeks? All of a sudden you think you know what we’re about.”

“I know what you’re supposed to be about,” I say. “We can’t go attacking people for answers. That doesn’t make us better than their side.”

“I want justice, and treating our prisoners with comfort is not how we’re going to get it.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” Eduardo says.

Maribelle looks like she might throw me across the room so she can stomp out Eduardo, and I can’t blame her if he keeps running his mouth. “Emil, I would love for this to be black-and-white, but war makes us do things we didn’t know we were capable of. We’ve shown compassion, but we’ve also had to become violent to stay alive. To try and win.”

“That’s not me,” I say. “I’ll be a soldier, but I’m not a murderer.”

Eduardo’s posture straightens as he eyes me.

“Take a walk, Maribelle,” Iris says.

“You don’t boss me around!” Maribelle gets all up in Iris’s space and looks down at her. “We’re going to lose. We don’t stand a chance under your leadership or with Emil playing nice with the other side.” She spins, and she’s so close to me that our noses almost touch. “What do you think soldiers in the military do? Do you think they gear up for battle and then lay down their wands? No. They take their shot, and they do their best to not miss.”

“I get that, but our endgame is peace with the rest of the world. So many deaths will be in vain if we can’t get everyone to trust us, right?”

“Don’t talk to me about deaths that will be in vain. Not while you get in the way of me figuring out who assassinated and framed my parents.” Maribelle closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I was wrong to put my faith in you. We all were.”

She storms out, and the door slams behind her.

I’ve never pretended I was going to be some incredible savior, but I still ache from that guilt laying into me like a boxer.

“Will you talk to us now?” Iris asks.

Eduardo points at me. “I’ll talk to him and him only.”

“Not happening,” Iris says.

“Good luck cracking Luna’s big plans before the Crowned Dreamer goes away,” he says.

Iris releases a deep sigh. “Be careful with him.”

She leaves me alone with the shape-shifter. I’m trusting it’ll all be good since he’s tied up, but if he gets funny with me I got to be quick with a fire-dart.

“Why’d you only want to talk with me?” I ask.

“You’re fascinating,” Eduardo says. He’s eyeing me with pure wonder. “I’m in the business of never being seen more than once, but we’ve crossed paths serendipitously multiple times already.”

“I wouldn’

t call you trying to trick me in my home or leading us to the arena as serendipity.”

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