Page 27 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

“Iris will be,” Maribelle says.

“What was the holdup with the passwords?” Brighton asks.

“Precaution. We’ve been betrayed a couple of times.”

As we walk down the hall, Maribelle tells us the story of how their West Harlem haven was infiltrated because of a trio of celestials who were in their care. They were so paranoid about getting caught and detained that they signed up to become enforcers instead who were rewarded with high salaries and health insurance. To prove their loyalty, they exposed the haven. I don’t understand celestials who become bodyguards for politicians who are campaigning against their existence.

Maribelle leads us into a room decorated with star charts and posters of children’s songs about prime constellations. Brass planets hang from a steel track in the ceiling, slowly orbiting and casting dizzying lights and shadows in the small space until she switches it off. “Tight squeeze, but it’s the best we can offer.”

“We’ll take it,” Brighton says as he gazes out the window through a silver telescope.

“What’s the plan?” I ask. “Is Eva healing us too when she’s finished with Iris?”

Maribelle runs her hands through her dark hair and lets out a deep sigh before pulling out her phone. “Luckily for Eva, neither of you are in critical condition. She’s going to need a break.” Maribelle’s typing away while she heads for the door. “I need to keep digging online for that celestial girl, but I’ll send someone over with aspirin and snacks, and we can all circle back in a bit.”

Before I can ask for a game plan, she’s gone.

“Pretty cool setup,” Brighton says, inspecting more of the room. I’m sure that he’s itching to run around this building. “I wonder how long they’ve been hiding here.”

I sit on a rug shaped like a comet. “What do they want with me?”

Brighton joins me. “The Spell Walkers?”

“The Spell Walkers and the Blood Casters.”

“To join a side, I bet.”

When we were kids, we would draw ourselves in the power-proof vests Spell Walkers wear. In Brighton’s pictures, he was always flying from one mission to the next. In mine I was teleporting, but I wasn’t thinking about using the power to escape danger the way I do now. I dreamed of teleporting onto mountains and sleeping under the stars and sailing in the middle of nowhere with my family and preserving nests for phoenixes.

“I’ll never be a Blood Caster, but I don’t want to be a Spell Walker either,” I say with a crack in my voice. I’m exhausted and starving and scared. “And I don’t like the odds of hiding here as a rescue, since two of their havens have been exposed.”

“You heard Maribelle in the car—they’re learning from their mistakes,” Brighton says. “Someone would have to be self-destructive to charge into the spot where the Spell Walkers have home field advantage. We don’t even know about the other celestials here and what powers they’re packing. I wonder if we’ll get to meet them. . . .” He has this faraway look.

This isn’t how anyone should be living their li

ves. Hiding out in some school while being hunted down by enforcers and gangs. My panicked breaths increase, and a phoenix’s cry is roaring to life inside my head as I warm up. “I shouldn’t have these powers,” I say, shaking my head vigorously. “What’s to stop me from burning this place down?”

“I will,” Brighton says, grabbing my shoulder.

I can’t believe I tried running away alone.

Atlas pops in shortly after with bottles of water, protein bars, and a medical kit. I throw back aspirin while Brighton bandages my scraped arm.

The door opens, and I’m expecting Maribelle or Atlas again, but it’s Wesley. He’s a white dude about our age and height. He’s got strong curves, like a linebacker who takes no prisoners, and he’s rocking a football jersey that has the Spell Walker insignia—probably custom made but looks legit. In the poster Brighton has in our room, Wesley has a military buzz cut, but now his brown hair is grown out and pulled back into an absolutely hipster man bun that makes him even handsomer than I thought before.

“There you go!” Wesley says. He steps into the hallway and shouts, “They’re in here!” He smiles my way and reaches out a hand to shake, but Brighton pops up and beats me to it.

“Huge fan,” Brighton says. “I’ve lost count of how many times I watched that video where you ran up the plaza’s wall and stopped those jewel thieves.”

“That was supposed to be a personal shopping day,” Wesley says with a chuckle before returning his attention to me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to back up my crew. I was on my way to Philadelphia to see my family, but I did manage to collect yours.”

Before I can say anything, Ma rushes in with Prudencia right behind her. After the ten thousand times it’s felt like my heart has fallen out of place today, I’m shocked at how good and secure it feels after seeing my people, like I’m not as fragile as I thought. Ma hugs me so hard that my entire body doubles down in pain, but I don’t care. She’s nonstop telling me how relieved she is that I’m alive without taking breaths.

“You came too?” Brighton asks Prudencia as he pulls her into a hug.

“I’m surprised you survived without me,” Prudencia says.

“But what about your aunt?” I ask.

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