Firespell

“It’s too quiet,” Jamie softly said, her tone unconvinced that it was going to stay that way.

“That’s the point of distraction,” Michael pointed out, “to keep things as quiet as possible for us.”

A frigid breeze suddenly moved through the hallway.

“Jill is working,” Jamie whispered, the breeze apparently evidence of the ice witch’s work.

“That’s our cue to move.”

We walked inside, Jamie lagging behind just long enough to ensure that the door closed silently behind us. “All right, Mikey,” she said, “where do we go?”

Michael nodded, then pressed his hand to the hallway wall. “Down the hall. There’s a room.

Empty—no, not empty. A girl. A soul. Damaged. But she’s there.”

He opened his eyes again and looked at me, his expression tortured. It wasn’t hard to guess how he felt about her, even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings. “She’s there.”

Jamie looked at me, her aqua irises suddenly swirling with fire. Goose bumps rose on my arms.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

Without warning, a crash echoed through the building, the floor rumbling beneath us. “Alex,” I murmured. The bringer of earthquakes.

“And probably her crew,” Jamie agreed, taking the lead. “We need to move.”

We hustled down the hallway, pausing at each open door to peek inside, look for Scout, make sure we weren’t walking into a bevy of Reapers. But there was no one, nothing. No signs of people—Reaper or otherwise. Nothing but old, industrial equipment and rusty pipes.

“It’s too quiet,” Jamie said as we neared a set of double doors at the end of the hall. “Distraction or not, this is too quiet.”

“Here,” Michael said, suddenly pushing through the double doors without thought of what might await him on the other side. “She’s . . . here.”

I followed him in, lights flickering above us, the rhythm of the lights as quick as my heartbeat.

The room was big and concrete, giant tubs and shelving along the sides. It looked like a storage facility they’d tried to turn into some kind of ceremonial hall, a long red carpet running down the middle aisle, a gold quatrefoil on a purple banner hanging from one end. The Reaper symbol, I realized, there for all to see.

And below the banner lay Scout on a long table, her body buckled down with wide leather straps around each ankle and wrist, her arms pinned to her side.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered.

She looked pale—even more so than usual. He cheeks seemed sunken, and dark circles lay beneath her eyes. Her collarbone was visible. Her usually vibrant blond and brown hair lay in a pale corona around her head. But for the rise and fall of her chest, I’d have wondered if we’d arrived too late.

I had to bite my lip to keep tears from slipping over my lashes. “What happened to her?” I whispered.

Michael moved around her and began to work one of the buckles around her ankles. “Reapers,” he said. “This is what they do, Lily. They steal things that don’t belong to them.”

Where there had been sadness, fear, trepidation, in his voice . . . now there was fury. Michael tugged at one leather buckle, freed the pin, then pulled loose the strap. “These kids, these adults,

these people, think they have the right to take the lives of others, and for what? Forwhat ?”

Michael mumbled a string of words in Spanish, and while I didn’t understand exactly what he’d said, I got the gist. The boy waspissed .

He bobbed his head toward her wrists, which were pinned near her head. “Jamie, keep an eye on the door. Get ready to raise flame if we need it. Lily, get her wrist restraints.”

I jumped to the other end of the table and started fumbling with Scout’s restraints. She lifted her head as I reached her, blinking with the one eye that wasn’t bruised and swollen, but she didn’t speak. They must have hit her while she was being restrained. I hoped she fought back. I hoped she gave as good as she got.

“I think you’ve managed to get yourself into some kind of mess here,” I said with a small grin,

trying to make her laugh, trying to keep my heart from thumping out of my chest. “I thought you were going to keep yourself safe?”

She tried a smile, but winced in pain. “I’ll try harder next time, Mom,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You’d better,” I said, fumbling with the latch on the first buckle. “We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”

She nodded, then put her head back on the table. “I’m tired, Lil. I just—I think I’ll just go home and sleep.”

“Stay awake, Scout. We’re going to get you out, but I need you to stay awake.”

“Hurry, Lily,” Michael implored, and I heard the clank as her first ankle restraint was loosed. “I don’t know how much time we’ll have.” He moved around the table to get a better angle on her other ankle.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” I assured him.

We’d just managed to untie her, to loosen all her restraints, and help her sit up and swing her feet over the bed when, without warning, the door at the other end of the room, crashed open,

falling in on its hinges.

Dark-haired Sebastian, the boy with firespell, walked inside. My breath quickened at the sight of him, and my back tightened at the memory of the pain he’d inflicted. Alex walked in behind him.

“Stay with Scout,” Michael murmured. I nodded, and braced my body to help support her as he stepped away and in front of us, a human shield.

“Oh, look,” Alex said. “It’s an entire band of Buffy wanna-be’s.”

“Better Buffy wanna-be’s than would-be zombies,” Jamie said. “You guys are rotting corpses waiting to happen. That’s gonna put a hitch in those Abercrombie catalog plans, don’t you think?”

Alex growled and tried to take a step toward us, but Sebastian put a hand on her arm.

“I assume the vitriol means you’re all acquainted,” a third person said. Sebastian and Alex stepped aside, and he stepped into the gap between them.

He was tall, thin, silver haired, distinguished looking. He wore a crisp black suit, with a white,

button-up shirt beneath. Every hair was in place, every bit of fabric perfectly creased. His eyes were pale blue, watery, red at the edges. But there was something about his eyes—something wrong. They were empty—dangerously empty.

“Mr. Garcia,” he said, his voice flat, bored, as he bobbed his head toward Michael. Jamie moved to stand beside Michael, a supernatural barrier between us and the bad guys. “Ms. Riley,” he said. I guessed that was Jamie.

And then the man leveled his watery gaze at me, and I shuddered reflexively.

“I don’t believe we’re acquainted,” he said, just before Sebastian leaned in and whispered something to him.

The man’s eyebrows lifted in interest.

My stomach fell, and I hunched a little closer to the table behind me. I was confident I did not want this guy interested in me.

“Aha,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “The girl who, shall we say, became closely acquainted with Mr. Born’s magic?”

I took a moment to glare at Sebastian, who I assumed had mentioned that he’d hit me with firespell during my fateful trip into the basement.

But more interesting was the look I got back from him. I expected disdain or irritation—the emotions on Alex’s face. But Sebastian looked almost . . . apologetic.

“I’m Jeremiah,” the older man said, drawing my attention away from Sebastian. “And I can’t tell you how interested I am to make your acquaintance. I hope you weren’t harmed?”

“I’m fine,” I gritted out, doubtful that he cared whether I’d been harmed or not. The lights above us flickered once, then twice. When Jeremiah’s eyes flicked with interest to the fixtures, I knew I had to tamp it down. I didn’t want him knowing that I was now an Adept, thanks to “Mr. Born’s magic,” and that I was now one of his enemies.

As if she understood the struggle, Scout squeezed my hand. I squeezed back and forced myself to stay calm.

Since Jeremiah was older than the Reapers around him, I assumed he was a leader, one of the self-centered asses who’d decided that taking the lifeblood of others was a cost worth paying to keep his own magic.

He looked from me to Michael and Jamie. “Your distraction was just that,” he said. “Merely a distraction. Next time, you might do a little more planning. But, since you’re here, what brings you to our little sanctuary?”

As if he didn’t know. “You kidnapped my friend,” I reminded him.

Jeremiah rolled his eyes as if bored by the accusation. “Kidnapping is a harsh word, Ms. Parker,

although given the fact that you’ve undoubtedly been brainwashed by these agitators, these troublemakers, I’ll forgive the transgression. These children don’t understand the gifts they’ve been given. They reject their power. They turn away from it, and they blame us for accepting it.

For abiding by the natural order. They cast us as demons.”

“The power corrupts,” Michael said. “We don’t reject it. We give it back.”

“And what do you have to show for that decision?” Alex asked. “A few years of magic until you’re normal again. Ordinary.”

“Healthy,” Michael said. “Helpers. Not parasites on the world.”

Jeremiah barked out a mirthless laugh. “How naïve, all of you.” He aimed his gaze at me. “I would hope, Ms. Parker, that you might spend some time thinking critically about your friends and whatever lies they told you. They are a boil on the face of magic. They imagine themselves to be saviors, rebels, a mutiny against tyranny. They are wrong. They create strife, division,

amongst us when we need solidarity.”

“Solidarity to take lives?” I wondered aloud. “To take the strength of others?”

Jeremiah clucked his tongue. “It’s a pity that you’ve succumbed to their backward belief that the magic they’ve been given is inherently evil. That it is inherently bad. Those are ideas for the small-minded, for the ignorant, who do not understand or appreciate the gifts.”

“Those gifts degrade,” Jamie pointed out. “They rot you from the inside.”

“So you’ve been taught,” Jeremiah said, taking a step toward us. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“Wrong?” Scout asked hoarsely. “How could they be wrong?”

“You steal other peoples’ essences,” Michael said, pointing at Scout, “from people like her, in order to survive. Does that sound right to you?”

“What is right, Mr. Garcia? Is it right that you would be given powers of such magnitude—or in your case, knowledge of such magnitude—for such a short period of time? Between the ages of,

what, fifteen and twenty-five? Does it seem natural to you that such power is intended to be temporary, or does that seem like a construct of shortsighted minds?”

I glanced over at Scout, who frowned as if working through the logic and wondering the same thing.

“Weagree to give up their powers,” Jamie pointed out, “before they become a risk. A liability.

Before we have to take from others.”

“A very interesting conclusion, Ms. Riley, but with a flawed center. Why should you protect humans who are not strong enough to take care of themselves? What advantage is there in stepping forward to protect those who are so obviously weak? Whose egos vastly outpace their abilities? Those who are gifted with magic are elite amongst humans.”

As if bored with the conversation, he waved a hand in the air. “Enough of this prattle. Are you willing to see the error of your ways? To come back to the fold? To leave behind those who would rip you from your true family?”

Reaper or cult leader? I wondered. It was hard to tell the difference with this one.

“Are you high?” Michael asked.

Jeremiah’s nostrils flared. “I’ll take that as a juvenile ‘no,’ ” he said, then turned on his heel.

“Ad meloria. Finish them.”

“Aw, this is my favorite part,” said Alex, then outstretched her hands.

But before she could shake the earth, Jamie wound up her left hand as if bracing for a pitch.

“Keep your issues,” she said, then slung her arm forward, “to yourself.” A wave of heat blew past us as pellets of white fire shot from Jamie’s hand like sparks from a sparkler.

“Holy frick,” I muttered, instinctively covering my head even though the fire wasn’t meant for me. But it was enough to temporarily subdue Alex, who drew back her hand and hit the ground,

wrapping her arms around her head to avoid the burn.

“Help me off this thing,” Scout muttered, grasping my arm. I pulled her to her feet as Michael glanced around at the movement.

“Green,” he yelled over the crackle of falling sparks, “get behind the table!”

“Garcia,” Scout said, fingers biting into my hand as she kept herself upright, “I’m the spellbinder here. You getyour ass behind the table.”

“They’re reloading,” Jamie said, turning to grab my arm. She pulled me behind the table, and I dragged Scout with me. “Let’s all get behind the table.”

We’d just managed to hit the deck when the pressure in the room changed. I knew what was coming, deep in my bones. I clapped my hands to my ears against the sudden ache, as if my blood and bones remembered it,feared it.

The air in the room vibrated, contracted, and expanded, and the light seemed to shift to apple green, the table suddenly flying above our heads with Sebastian’s burst of firespell. I covered Scout’s body with mine and we were both saved the impact, but the move stripped us of our cover. We were all but naked, nothing but air between us and two Reapers who appeared to be better equipped for the battle than we were.

“I’m on it,” Jamie yelled, turning from her crouch, fingers outstretched in front of her, her irises shifting to waves of flame again. There was another crackle of sound and energy as a wall of white fire began to rise between us and the Reapers. I kneeled up to sneak a glance and saw Sebastian on the other side, black brows arched over hooded blue eyes. He stared at me, his gaze intense, one arm outstretched, his chest heaving with the exertion of the firespell he’d thrown,

lips just parted.

I don’t know why—maybe because of the intensity in his eyes, in his expression—but I got goose bumps again, at least until the growing barrier of flame blocked my view. I guessed it was a foot thick, nearly six feet tall, and it crossed the room from one side to the other, a blockade between us and the Reapers.

For a moment, as if entranced, I stared at the wall of white fire, the heat of the dancing flames warming my cheeks. “Amazing,” I murmured, turning to gaze in awe at Jamie.

“More amazing if it could withstand that earthquake business,” she said as the ground rumbled beneath us. “I braided the strands of flame together. It’s hard to penetrate, at least at first, but it won’t hold forever. Flame acts like a fluid. It flows, sinks. The strands will separate.”

“Scout,” Michael called, “can you do anything? Reinforce the wall?”

She squeezed my hand, closed her eyes, and was quiet for a moment. And then she began to chant.

“Fire and flame/in union bound/from parts, a whole/ from top to ground.” Her body suddenly spasmed; then she went limp. I glanced behind us at the wall. It shivered, seemed to ripple with magic, then stilled again.

She’d tried, but whatever she’d done hadn’t quite taken.

Scout tightened her grip on my hand, then opened her eyes and glanced over at Michael. “I can’t,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t have any mojo left.

They took it, Michael.”

“It’s okay,” Michael said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You’ll heal. It’s okay.”

“I can spark them again,” Jamie said, “but I need to recharge for a minute, and the wall isn’t going to keep them away for long.”

I inched up to peek over the fire, assessed, and quickly sat down again. “There’re two more of them. Are we toast?”

“Reaper toast,” Scout agreed, then leaned into a fit of coughing.

“Scout?” Michael asked.

When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. “It was a nightmare, a black hole. They trapped me, and they’d have kept going until there was nothing left. No energy, no magic—just a shell.”

“They must have doubled their efforts,” Michael said, his eyes scanning her face, like a doctor checking her injuries. “Siphoned more greedily than their usual one-day-at-a-time protocol.

Probably weren’t sure how long they’d be able to keep her.” He glanced at me. “Energy taken from Adepts is more potent, more powerful, than energy from folks without gifts, so they’d have taken what they could get while they could get it, passed it on to elders like Jeremiah. You said they trashed her room, right? Maybe they were looking for herGrimoire , her spell book,

something to try and capture some of her gifts, as well as her energy.”

“They’ll keep coming,” Scout said quietly. “They won’t kill us. They’ll just suck us dry until there’s nothing left. Until we leave everyone and everything else behind and do exactly what they want.”

“Like magical brat packers,” I muttered, sarcasm the only way I knew to deal with a future that terrifying.

“What can you do?” Jamie suddenly asked me. “You said something about lights? If we could distract them, maybe we could make a run for the door? Scatter through the tunnels?”

I nodded, my heart pounding, and looked up at the fluorescent lights overhead. I stared at them,

concentrating, trying to speed my heart into whatever state was going to trigger the magic. Into whatever state was going to turn off all the lights.

“You can do it, Lil,” Scout whispered, leaning her head against my shoulder. “I know you can.”

I nodded, squeezing my fingers into fists until my nails cut crescents into my palms.

Nothing.

Not even a flicker, even as my heart raced with the effort.

“Scout, I don’t know how,” I said, staring up at the lights again, which burned steadily—not even a hiccup—in their fixtures. “I don’t know how to make it happen.”

“ ’ S okay, Lil,” she said softly. “You’ll learn.”

But not fast enough, I thought.

The ground rumbled again, the flames shaking on their foundations. It was another of Alex’s earthquakes, and that wasn’t all—the wall vibrated, wavered, at three or four other points along the line. They were hammering at it, trying to break through.

And despite my chest being full of fear, there wasn’t so much as a flicker in the lights above us.

Maybe it had been a fluke before, a power surge in the building at the same time I’d been afraid or excited, and not magic after all. Maybe I had been a fluke.

But there was no time to worry about it . . . because the wall began to unravel.

I watched as the strands unbraided, listened as Reapers began to yell around us.

“It’s going,” Jamie warned over the motion and noise.

She was right, but it had help.

The air pressure changed again, the light turning a sickly green.

“Firespell!” I yelled, both Michael and I hunkering down to cover Scout with our bodies, my arms wrapped around her head.

The very walls seemed to contract, then expand with a tremendous force. The shot of firespell Sebastian threw across the room turned Jamie’s fluid fire into a brittle wall that shuddered, then exploded, shards flying out in all directions before crashing to the ground like shattered glass.

When the air was still again, a haze of white smoke filling the room, I glanced over at Jamie.

Her eyes were closed, and there was blood rushing from a gash in her forehead.

“Michael?” I asked, shaking white powder from my hair.

He muttered a curse in Spanish. “I’m okay.” He sat up again, chunks of white . . .stuff . . . falling around his body. “Scout?”

I moved my arms and she lifted her head. “I’m okay, too.”

“I think Jamie’s hurt,” I said.

Michael looked at her, then glanced around. The room was in chaos, Reapers yelling at one another, smoke wafting through the room.

“We’ve got to make a run for it,” he said, “use the chaos to our advantage. It’s our best chance.”

I nodded, then put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder and shook gently. “Hey, are you okay?”

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She raised a hand to her face and wiped at the blood streaming from the gash at her temple.

“Here,” I said, pulling off my plaid tie and wrapping it around her head tight enough to put pressure on the wound and keep the blood out of her eyes.

“Can you get up?” I whispered. “We’re going to try to make a run for it.”

She nodded uncertainly, but it was a nod just the same. I helped her to her feet as Michael helped Scout behind me. As stealthily as we could, we began to move through the smoke and back toward the door, picking our way through the remains of the transfigured wall, me trying to hold Jamie upright, Michael all but carrying Scout.

We made progress, the haze aiding our escape, and managed to get halfway closer to the door . . . at least until a voice rang through it.

“Stop.”

We looked over. Alex emerged from a swirl of white, Sebastian beside her.

She stretched out a hand. “You can come willingly, or I can knock you all on your asses.”

Reapers—the ones we hadn’t been introduced to—began closing in from the left and right.

“Michael?” I asked.

“Um,” was all he said, his own gaze shifting from side to side as he tried to figure a way out.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but I chose that moment to glance at Sebastian, who stood just behind Alex, his hooded gaze on me again. And while I looked at him and he looked back at me,

he mouthed something.

Let go.

I frowned, wondering if I’d seen that correctly.

As if in confirmation, he nodded again. “Let go,” he mouthed again. No sound, just the movement of his lips around the words.

I stood quietly for a moment as the Reapers gathered around us. Somehow, I knew he was right.

And although he was supposed to be kicking our collective butt right now, I knew he was trying to help.

I didn’t know why, but I knew it as surely as I knew that I was standing in the midst of people I wanted to protect.

People Icould protect.

I took a chance.

“Get down,” I told Jamie, Michael, and Scout.

“Lily?” Scout asked, confusion in her voice.

“We know what you’ve got in store,” Alex said. “We know what you can dish out, and I think we’ve demonstrated that it ain’t real much, so it’s our turn to teach you all a lesson. To teach you about who matters in this world, and who doesn’t.”

“Trust me, Scout,” I repeated, suddenly as sure about this as I’d ever been about anything else. I was where I should be, doing what I should be doing, and Sebastian had been right.

After a half second of deliberation, Scout nodded to Jamie and Michael. I waited until they’d all crouched down beside me, and then I did as he’d directed.

I stoppedtrying to make magic.

And I let the magic make itself.

I outstretched my arms and trained my gaze on Sebastian, and felt warmth begin to flow through my legs, my torso, my arms.

Firespell.

Not Sebastian’s.

Mine.

My magic to wield, triggered by the shot of firespell I’d received a few days ago, but mine all the same.

I held my arms open wide. He nodded at me, then put a hand on his head and crouched down behind Alex.

I pulled the power, the energy, into my body, the room contracting around us as it filled me. My eyes on Alex, one eyebrow arched, I pushed it back.

“Bet you didn’t know aboutthis ,” I said.

The room turned green, a wash of power vibrating through it with a bass roar, knocking down everyone who wasn’t already crouched behind me.

It took a second to overcome the shock at what I’d done, at what had seemed natural to do. I shivered at the power’s sudden absence, wobbling a little until the pressure in my head equalized again.

The ground rumbled a little, an aftershock; then the room went silent, a spread of unconscious Reapers around us.

Michael stood again and helped Scout and Jamie to their feet. “Well-done, Parker. Now let’s get out of here.”

I offered an arm to Jamie, then glanced back at the dark-haired boy who lay sprawled on the floor a few feet away. “Let’s go,” I agreed, positive that I’d see him again.

We regrouped in the catacombs, Jason, Jill, and Paul emerging from their tunnel at a run. Jill and Paul both went to Jamie—sisterly concern in her eyes, something altogether different from the brotherly concern in his.

Jason’s eyes had shifted again from blue to the green of flower stems, a color that seemed unnaturally bright for a human . . . but better for a wolf. His hair was in disarray, sticking up at odd angles, a bruise across his left cheekbone. His gaze searched the crossroads, then settled on me, ferocity in his eyes.

His lips pulled into a wolfish grin, dimples at the corners of his mouth. I swallowed, the hairs on my neck standing on end at the primal nature of his gaze. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to run and hide, or stand and fight, but the instinct had certainly been triggered.

He looked me over, and once assured that I was fine, checked out Michael and Scout. She was on the ground, sitting cross-legged. Michael sat beside her, holding her hand.

When the two groups had reunited, everyone had made sure that everyone else was okay, and everyone had been debriefed about the rescue, Scout spoke up.

“Thanks, everyone,” she said quietly. “If you hadn’t come—”

“Thank Lily,” Michael said, smiling up at me with appreciation in his dark eyes. “She’s the one who led the charge. She did good.”

“Parker showed some hustle,” Jason agreed, offering me a sly smile, his eyes now back to sky blue. “She’ll make a good addition to the team.”

Scout humphed. “She’ll make a good addition if Varsity lets her join, but that would require Varsity pulling their heads out of their butts. Katie and Smith are being total jerks.”

“They’ll unjerkify,” Jason said confidently. “Have faith.”

“I always have faith in us,” she said. “It’s them I’m not too sure about.”

“Have some water,” Michael said, passing her the bottle I’d pulled from my messenger bag.

“You’ll feel better. And when we get back to the enclave, you can tell us what happened to you.”

Scout snorted defiantly, but did as she was told.

I stood up and stepped away to a quiet corner and looked down at my hands, still in awe at what I’d managed to do.

And I was still unsure how I’d managed to do it.

Okay, that was a lie. I knew exactly what I’d done, the sensation of doing it somehow as natural —as expected—as breathing. It wasn’t that I’d suddenlylearned how to do it, but more that my body hadremembered how to do it.

I just had no idea how that was possible.

Jason walked over, pulled a candy bar from his pocket, ripped off the wrapper, snapped off an end, and handed it to me.

I took it with a smile, then nibbled a square of chocolate-covered toffee. I didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but the sugar hit the spot. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You saved our butts today. We appreciate that, especially since your last visit to the enclave wasn’t very pleasant.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Smith and Katie liked me very much. And they definitely aren’t going to like me now. Not after this.”

“Like it or not, you’re one of us, so I guess they’ll get used to you.”

“I guess,” I said with a shrug. “The bigger question is, canI get used to it? Can my parents”—

wherever, whoever they were—“get used to it?”

“My parents did,” he said. “Get used to it, I mean.”

I glanced over. “They got used to the idea that you’re a werewolf?”

He gave me a sly, sideways glance. “Yes,” he admitted. “They got used to that. But it’s hereditary, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when I started howling at the moon.”

“They knew, and they sent you to Montclare anyway?”

He nodded. “Montclare was better for everyone.”

“Why?”

“The principal knows what I am,” he said. “He’s a friend of my parents’—grew up with my mother. They shared my secret with him so that someone would understand how to deal with me if something happened.”

“If you went allTeen Wolf , you mean?”

He grinned at me, his ridiculously blue eyes tripping my heart. “You say what’s on your mind,

don’t you, Parker? I like that.”

I rolled my eyes. “You have to stop flirting with me, Shepherd, or we’re never going to get anything done.”

“Flirting? You’re the one who’s getting me all riled up.”

“Oh, please. You’re all, ‘Here, Lily, have some candy.’ It’s obvious who’s flirting here.”

“Then maybe I should kiss you.”

I blinked, my cheeks suddenly on fire. “Oh. Well. If you think that’s best.”

He smiled softly, then leaned in toward me, smoke over sapphires as his lashes fell. I closed my eyes, blocking out the world around us, my heart pounding as healmost pressed his lips to mine.

“Well, well.”

Did I mention the “almost”? I mentally cursed my best friend before we jerked apart and sat up straight. Scout stood in front of us, one hand on Michael’s shoulder, looking a little better than she had a few minutes ago. The water and few minutes of rest in Michael’s company must have helped. And if anyone could summon up a little spirit and energy after a round of soul sucking, it was Scout.

“I assume I’m not interrupting anything?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jason mumbled.

I snickered and gave him a gentle elbow to the ribs. “You’re fine,” I told Scout. “We were just taking a break.”

“I can see that,” she said. “We’re ready to hike back, if you want to join us.”

Jason turned back and offered me a hand.

“I think I can manage,” I said.

“Whatever you need, Parker,” he said, offering me a dimple-laced smile.

I had an unfortunate inkling that I knew what that was.

The air in the enclave was thick with tension when we arrived. Katie and Smith weren’t thrilled that we’d walked out on them, but they were happy to see Scout. They seemed considerably less happy to see me, and gave me dirty looks as we sat around the table and Michael, Jason, and Scout detailed our adventure.

As it turned out, the message Scout received said that an Adept had been hurt. Scout didn’t say which Adept, but given her glances in Michael’s direction, I reached my own conclusion. She’d gone back to her room to put up her books and prepare for a trip into the tunnels; that’s when they grabbed her. There had been two Reapers, probably college age, but not people she recognized. She had no idea how they’d gotten into the school, but they’d been dressed, she said,

like maintenance men— complete with badges and name tags. They’d already tossed her room when she arrived.

“Why you?” Michael asked, eyebrows furrowed. “If they were looking for a double shot of power, they could have chosen any of us.”

Scout dropped her hand, outstretched both of them, and stared at her fingertips. “I think it has something to do with my power,” she said, then clenched her hands into fists and raised her gaze to us again. “They kept talking about spellbinders and spellcasters, about the differences between them.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t understand most of it. I mean, ‘spellcaster’ is a made- for-television word as far as I’m aware, not an actual description of power. I’ll have to check theGrimoire , see what I can find.”

“Are you sure you still have it?” I asked. “What if they took it when they went through your stuff?”

Scout grinned widely. “What kind of spellbinder would I be if myGrimoire looked like a giant book o’ magic? Remember that comic book I showed you the other day?”

“Ah,” I said, understanding dawning. “That’s sneaky and impressive.” She winked back.

“What happened after they grabbed you?” Smith asked, with more concern in his voice than I would have given him credit for.

Scout’s voice got softer as she retold that part of her tale, and she gripped my hand as tightly as she had in the sanctuary itself. The Reapers had used siphoning spells to begin the process of ripping away her energy, her will. They’d dispersed to deal with Jason’s distraction, and that’s when we’d found her.

Jason and Michael replayed their respective parts of the story, the room quieting again when Michael told them I’d used firespell to subdue the Adepts.

But Smith and Katie still looked unconvinced. They apparently didn’t buy that I had magic,

much less that particular kind of magic.

“It’s not possible,” Smith said, shaking his head. “A shot of magic, firespell or otherwise, can’t transfer magic to someone else. That’s not the way it works.”

“You’re right,” Scout said, “but that’s not what happened.” She pulled a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of her skirt, then spread it flat on the table. “I’ve done some research. It turns out, there have been a handful of gifted folks whose magic wasn’t obvious until something happened, until some act triggered their power.”

“So it doesn’t just develop on its own,” Jill put in, “like you’d normally expect?”

Scout nodded. “Right. Lily didn’t get the magic at puberty, unlike the rest of us. It’s more like the magic is latent, in hiding, until something comes along and kicks it into gear. And once it’s kicked, it’s usually pretty big.”

“What do you mean ‘usually’?” Smith asked, brows furrowed together.

“Lily’s not the first,” Scout said. “There’s an entire line of Contingency Adepts. Twelve of them. Half of them have power magic—the ability to wield electricity.”

“Power,” I quietly repeated. “That’s why I can dim the lights?”

Scout nodded. “Exactly. And like I told you, that’s what firespell’s made of.”

“Well, that sounds okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure I was thrilled to be an Adept, but there was something comforting about knowing what had happened. I mean, the whole thing was only barely believable, but in the context in which I was currently working—and having shot magic from my fingertips—it was comforting.

But as I scanned the faces around me, which suddenly looked a little peaked, I guessed they weren’t as comforted. “Except everybody looks weird. Why does everybody look weird?”

“There aren’t any firespell Adepts,” Jason said, “at least not that we’re aware of. They have an uncanny willingness to stay with the herd.”

“To stay evil,” I clarified dryly, and he nodded.

“And there is the other catch,” Scout said.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Let me guess. Using this newfound power will slowly make me more and more evil, until there’s nothing left of me but a cold, crusty shell of emptiness and despair. Lovely!”

“But we’ve all got to deal withthat ,” Paul said with a grin.

“I mean, there is a benefit,” Scout said. “You have a pretty kick-ass power, and you’re obvs the only Adept with firespell, so that’s awesome forus . You’re a solid addition to the team.”

I lifted my brows. “A solid weapon, you mean?”

“A solidshield ,” Michael said, his voice quiet and serious. “And we can use you.”

“Whoa,” Smith said, slicking the hair down over his forehead. “Let’s not get too excited. So-

called contingency magic or not, she’s still not one of us. She’s not an enclave member until we run things past the supervisors.”

I leaned in toward Scout. “Supervisors?”

“The folks with authority,” Scout said. “They keep to themselves, and we get their dictates through charming members of the Varsity squad. Lucky us.”

“And because of that,” Smith said, “there’s nothing more we can do tonight. I’m going to make a call to see if another enclave is willing to babysit our targets tonight. Head back home. We’ll be in touch.”

Not taking no for an answer, he went for the door, six Adepts and one not-quite Adept behind him, heading off to bed before another routine day of classes, and another routine night of battling evil across the city.

Scout yawned hugely, her eyes blinking sleepily when the spasm passed. “I’m about done,” she said, then slid an arm through mine after I’d returned her messenger bag and she’d situated it.

“Let’s go home.”

“We should get back, too,” Jason said, then glanced warmly at me. “You take care, Parker.”

“I always do, Shepherd.”

He winked; then he and Michael set off down the tunnels. Jamie and Jill and Paul said their goodbyes, but Scout and I stood in front of the door for a moment. She looked over at me, then enveloped me in a gigantic hug.

“You came after me.”

“You’re my new best friend,” I said, hugging her back.

“Yeah, I know, but still. Weren’t you scared witless?”

“Completely. But you’re Scout. I told you I’d be there for you, and I was.”

Scout released me, then wiped tears from beneath her eyes. Catharsis, I guessed. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—you seriously rock, Parker.”

“Tell me again, Green,” I said as we switched on flashlights and headed through the tunnel.

“Seriously, you rock.”

“One more time.”

“Don’t press your luck.”

It was late when Scout and I returned to St. Sophia’s, but while she showered and headed to her room for some much-needed sleep (under Lesley’s watchful eye), I plucked my cell phone from her bag and headed out on one last journey I wasn’t entirely excited about taking.

Have you ever been in a car or on a walk, and all of a sudden you look up, and trees and blocks have passed you by? When you end up in a spot, but you don’t remember much of how you got there? I found myself, a few minutes later, staring at the tidy gold letters on Foley’s door. Light seeped beneath it despite the late hour.

I lifted a hand, knocked, and when Foley called my name, walked inside. She stood at the window, still in her suit, a porcelain teacup cradled in her hands. She glanced back at me, one eyebrow arched. “Ms. Green?”

“She’s fine. She’s back in her room.”

Foley closed her eyes and let out a breath of obvious relief. “Thank God for small favors.” After a moment, she opened her eyes, then moved to her desk and placed the teacup on the desktop. “I assume you’re now interested in discussing your parents?”

I rubbed my arms and nodded.

“I see,” she said, then pulled out her chair and lowered herself into it. She motioned toward the chairs in front of her desk. I shook my head and stayed where I was. It wasn’t stubbornness; my knees were shaking, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it over there without tripping.

“As you know,” she said, “your parents are very intelligent people. They are currently working to resolve a somewhat, shall we say, awkward problem. That work has taken them to Europe. I have a personal interest in that work, which is why we’re acquainted.”

When she suddenly stopped talking, I stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for elaboration.

But I got nothing more. “That’s all? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“That’s more than your parents told you,” she pointed out. “Are you asking me to trump a decision made by your parents? Or, more important, have you decided that your need to know trumps their decision not to tell you?”

That made me snap my lips closed again. “I don’t know.”

This time, I really did take a seat, slinking down into a chair and staring at the desktop. I finally raised my eyes to Foley’s. “They’re okay, right? Because they’re really hard to get in touch with,

and their phone keeps cutting out.”

“Your parents are safe and sound,” she said, her voice softer now. “For now. You might consider, Ms. Parker, the possibility that they are safe, in part, because of the current status quo.

Because you are safe and sound in this institution, and suspicions are not being raised. Because uncomfortable questions aren’t being asked. Because,” she added after a moment, lifting her eyes to mine, “the members of a certain dark elite are not aware of where they are, what they’re doing, or where you’ve been placed in their absence.”

My heart filled my throat. “They know about the dark elite? About the magic?”

Foley shook her head. “Unfortunately, that is a question I can’t directly answer.”

My head was spinning and my patience had finally worn thin. “Whatever,” I threw out, then stood up and pushed back my chair. “I’ll just ask them myself.”

My hand was on the office doorknob before she spoke again.

“Is it worth the risk?”

I wet my lips.

“Your trust has been shaken, Lily. I realize that.” I glanced back at her. “But if you search your soul, your memories, and you decide that your parents love you, perhaps you’ll be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt on this one. You might realize that if they didn’t give you all the details of their work, of their lives together, they had a very good reason for it. That the consequences of your knowing might not be worth the risks you’d be creating. The risk to you.

The risk to your parents.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “And when do I get the benefit of the doubt?”

She smiled, slowly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

When I was back in the suite, I checked in on Scout. She was snoring peacefully in Lesley’s room, and Lesley was curled up on a sleeping bag at the foot of the bed. I quietly closed the door and slipped into my room, then closed and locked it behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the top of my bookshelf, sat down on my bed, and dialed.

It took two tries for my phone to actually make a connection to my parents. The third time, my mom answered.

“Lily?” There was a pause, maybe while my mom scanned a clock. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, tears suddenly welling in my eyes. I wanted to yell at her, scream at her . . . and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to rail against her and my dad for not telling me the truth, whatever it was, for holding back so much from me. I wanted to tell her about my classes, about Scout, about the brat pack, about Jason, about firespell. About the fact that I hadmagic , power that flowed from my hands.

But maybe Foley was right. Maybe it was dangerous. Maybe their safety—oursafety—was somehow dependent on my pretending to be an average high school kid.

Maybe there were more important considerations than Lily Parker getting a chance to throw a tantrum.

“I’m fine,” I finally said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Smith kept his promise to keep in touch, but it was still two days before Scout got paged again.

We walked together into the tunnels, headed for the enclave, the mood very different than the last time we’d taken that walk. Nevertheless, Enclave Three was still quiet when we entered.

Everyone was there. Michael, Jason, Paul, and the twins chatted together. Katie and Smith stood at the edge of the room, unhappy expressions on their faces.

“What’s going on?” Scout asked when we reached the knot of JV Adepts.

Jamie and Jill shrugged simultaneously. “No clue.”

Smith, a supersnug long-sleeved plaid shirt and skinny jeans all but pasted to his thin frame,

opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door creaked open. Our gazes snapped to the doorway.

A guy stepped inside. Tall, blondish, and well built, he had blue eyes, a dimpled chin, and strong features. He wore a snug U of C T-shirt and dark jeans over brown boots.

“Yowsers,” Jill muttered.

“Good evening, Adepts.”

“Yo,” Scout said, her head tilted to the side, curiosity in her expression.

He shut the door behind him, then pressed his hand to the door. For a second, it pulsed with light, then faded again.

“I think he just warded the door,” Scout whispered, awe in her voice. “I’ve never seen that before. He has got to teach me how to do that. Itrocked .”

“I thought I rocked?” I whispered.

“Oh, you do,” she assured me, patting me on the arm. “This is a totally different kind of rockage.”

The blond walked to Katie and Smith and shook their hands. They looked none too excited to meet him; Smith’s lip was actually curled in disgust. When they’d said their hellos, Katie and Smith stepped aside. The blond stepped toward us.

“I’m Daniel Sterling,” he said. “And I’m your new team captain.”

That must have meant something to the rest of the Adepts, who exchanged knowing glances.

“New team captain?” Paul asked.

Daniel looked at Paul, hands on his hips. “Your handlers and mine have become aware of a certain lack of . . . cohesiveness within this enclave. I am here to remedy that lack of cohesiveness.” He slid a narrowed glance to Katie and Smith, who looked down, rebuked.

Scout and I exchanged a grin.

Daniel glanced at each of us in turn. “We’re a team,” he said after a minute. “High school or college, human or”—he paused, glancing at Jason—“other. All of us, together. Indivisibly.”

The Adepts smiled. I appreciated their enthusiasm.

“It has also come to my attention that there’s a new Adept amongst you.” Daniel moved until he stood directly in front of me, then stared down, one eyebrow arched. “Lily Parker?”

“All day long,” I answered.

He managed to stifle a grin, then slid his hands into his jeans pockets. “I understand that you were hit by firespell a few days ago, that a darkening subsequently appeared, and that you then discovered you had some power magic?”

I nodded.

“I further understand that you encouraged these Adepts to enter the sanctuary and retrieve Scout,

and that you discovered, while you were there, that you had firespell abilities. I understand that all of you were able to escape largely unharmed?”

My cheeks warmed, and I nodded. Scout gave me a pat on the back.

“Go, you,” she whispered.

“That was a completely inappropriate course of action.”

That wiped the smile off my face, and put a big grin on Smith’s and Katie’s.

“This organization works because we have a hierarchy, a chain of authority responsible both for the assignments given to Junior Varsity members and for taking responsibility when those assignments are unsuccessful. You had no right to encourage these Adepts into danger against the express wishes of their Varsity squad. Do you understand that?”

I nodded sheepishly, eyes on the floor, humiliation bubbling in my chest. Nobody liked a dressing-down.

“On the other hand,” he said, turning back to Katie and Smith, “you were willing to sacrifice one of the most powerful members of your squad because you were unwilling to take a chance on her extraction. That reeks of cowardice. And cowardice is not why we’re here.

“From now on,” Daniel said, walking to the end of the room, then turning around again so that he faced all of us, “we work together, as a team, with one goal, and one set of leaders. Is that understood, Varsity?” he asked Katie and Smith. When they nodded, Daniel looked back at us.

“Is that understood, Junior Varsity?”

We all nodded. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was supposed to nod, but I wasn’t going to risk this guy’s wrath again.

“Now that we’ve settled that, we have some business to attend to.”

Despite my attempt to blend in, he looked over at me. “Ms. Parker, you have demonstrated abilities that indicate that you’re an Adept. Are you on our side or theirs?”

There was no need to ask which “theirs” he meant. “Yours,” I answered.

“Then welcome to the squad.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to the table,

where he, Katie, and Smith began to chat.

I looked over at Scout. “That’s it? I’m in?”

“What’d you think—you’d take an oath or something?”

“Something,” I said with a nod. “You know, something more symbolic for the fact that I’ll be sleeping less and battling bad guys more.”

“Two words,” she said. “Strawberry sodas.”

“Congratulations,” whispered a voice behind me. When I glanced back, Jason stood there, a knowing smile on his face.

“I need to go . . . somewhere else,” Scout said, bumping me with an elbow. “You two kids have fun.”

I made a mental note to talk to Scout later about “subtlety,” but smiled at Jason. “Thanks, I think.”

“So you’re now an official member of Enclave Three. You weirdo.”

I snorted. “I’m a weirdo? You’re a werewolf.”

“I suggest you say that with respect, Parker.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll have to bite you.” His lips widened into a grin of heart-stopping proportions. I guessed it would have been pretty effective on him in werewolf form, too.

“I don’t think you’ll bite me,” I offered back, although I wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“I guess we’ll just have to see what happens, won’t we?”

Jason gazed down at me, those ocean blue eyes swimming with promise, at least until a cell phone rang. After a moment of chatting, cell pressed to his ear, Daniel clapped his hands.

“Saddle up, kids,” he said. “We’ve got an assignment.”

“We’ll finish this later,” Jason whispered. “I promise.”

I believed him, so I offered him a wink, and we rejoined the others. I took my place at their sides, Scout squeezing my hand when I stood beside her, ready to take on evil in the Second City.