Infinity Reaper by Adam Silvera (best new books to read txt) 📗

Wesley and Ruth introduce me to their squirming four-month-old daughter, Esther, who shares Ruth’s complexion and brown eyes, but her button nose and slightly pointed ears, like an elf in a fantasy novel, are all Wesley’s.

I lead them to their room, right beside the one I’m sharing with Prudencia, who is still asleep when I peek in.

“Is Iris around?” Ruth asks as she takes Esther out of the stroller.

“Her room is down the hall, but I haven’t seen her today.”

“Has she been going out to search for Eva?” Wesley asks.

I nod. I offered to go with her, but she made it clear that she didn’t want to have to protect me since my powers are barely working. I’m sure there’s more to it.

“At least it’s a safer place to stay, even if someone follows her back,” Wesley says. “The illusions made the center look busy. Bit of a dead zone in here.” He blushes while spinning his hands around, as if he can rewind time and take back the words. “I don’t mean dead zone like Brighton is going to die, or that everyone here is going to die, obviously, because we’re choosing to be here too, and we wouldn’t bring Esther if we thought it were high-risk, you know.”

Ruth places a hand on Wesley’s shoulder. “Calm down.”

I don’t know where they’ve been the past couple of days and I don’t ask.

“I found out how we got discovered,” Wesley says. “Dr. Bowes has a son, Darren. He texted some friends that his mother was taking care of us, and word got out online.”

I asked for discretion, but Darren is fourteen, and his excitement got the best of him. I can’t blame him. I probably would’ve been able to keep it together if Ma had told us she was treating a Spell Walker at the hospital, but Brighton would’ve bragged away.

“He’s a fan of mine,” I say, which feels gross. “Dr. Bowes told me. I was supposed to sign something for him.”

“It’s not your fault,” Wesley says. “I told Darren the same thing.”

“You saw him?”

Wesley nods. “I reached out to the father and got them to a safe house. They’ll be relocating to a haven later tonight.”

I might not be able to bring back anyone from the dead, but I can own up and ask for forgiveness face-to-face. “I want to see him.”

Ruth is tearing up as she sways Esther back and forth. “You’re a sweetheart for wanting to speak with Darren.”

“I’m not trying to be sweet; I owe him an apology. He’s growing up without a mother because of me.” I wonder how much time I have without Ma before I’m dead too. “Can you take me to see him, or let me know where he is?”

“I can drive you,” Ruth says.

“You drove here,” Wesley says.

“Well, you stayed up all night with Esther.”

“Which you did all the nights before that.”

“You were preventing a ritual,” Ruth says, beaming like she’s won.

“You were caring for our daughter,” Wesley counters, smiling because he knows he topped her by declaring that their daughter trumps the world. “Not to mention the dozens of celestials at the shelter. Also, babe, you’re forgetting something huge about this trip. Rush. Hour. Traffic.”

Ruth lets out a deep sigh and turns to me. “I’m so sorry, Emil, I absolutely break down in traffic. I once had to cast a clone to take over the wheel and it almost led to an accident when the clone vanished and . . .” She’s shaking her head and offers me the most apologetic expression.

“It’s okay,” I say. “Seriously.”

“Well, I’ll be your chauffeur,” Wesley says. “I’ll check in with my contact at the safe house and arrange the visit.”

While I wait, I go to the cafeteria. I drown my toasted tofu salad in ginger dressing and I lose my appetite halfway through my sweet potato fries. This is normally when Brighton would grab my plate and finish them off. But I’m sitting here all alone and I keep catching staff members stealing glances at me. I wonder how many of them have known me since I first went viral as Fire-Wing. They all definitely know me now as one of the Spell Walkers who has to be so fiercely protected that Sunstar and Shine got involved. I want to say hey and thank everyone for their work, but I don’t have it in me.

I pull out my phone and tap into Instagram. I ignore the flood of comments and direct messages and type in Dr. Bowes’s full name, Billie Bowes, in the search bar. The most recent picture was taken at the Friday Dreamers Festival in Central Park, the day I got my powers. It’s wild how Dr. Bowes was there with her husband and son to support Sunstar at the same time I was there with Brighton and Prudencia. The world can feel so small sometimes. Darren is tagged in the picture, and I check out his profile. He hasn’t posted anything since Dr. Bowes was killed. There’s one post of him laying out a white T-shirt and fitted jeans on his bed, saying that this is the beginning of his Fire-Wing costume and that his mother is going to help him make a convincing power-proof vest with the Spell Walkers emblem so he can win this Halloween contest. I completely crack and cry so hard, burying my face into my arms, desperate for this life to be my last.

I jump when Wesley taps my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I wipe my tears. “We good to bounce?”

“Yeah, we can go.”

We leave the Clayton Center, and when I turn around, the guard who let us out is no longer there. It’s like Wesley said, the illusion creates this impression that there’s regular life happening here, one person crying into their phone, a doctor walking inside. You can’t tell from the outside that we have illusionists stationed by every door in the facility’s east wing. I don’t know what the plan is unless someone has an actual emergency, but