Infinity Son by Adam Silvera (e book reader free txt) 📗

the camera caught a glimpse of her in the wreckage of the Blackout. Luna has paid many favors to the media to keep June’s face out of their circulation.

Dione ignores Stanton’s bait and fills us in on the rare golden-strand hydra that’s being transported from Greece for some trafficker’s client who outbid Luna. The trafficker wasn’t going to reveal the whereabouts and timing of the drop-off, not even after Luna offered to bless him with the powers of an ivory phoenix, so Dione assassinated his entire crew single-handedly, and he changed his tune. It’s important that the hydra remains unharmed, which means preventing its delivery to the Apollo Arena, where it will be forced to fight another creature in a vicious cage match.

Everything is going down within the hour in Brooklyn, so Stanton rounds up some acolytes and we leave the tower. I pulled tonight’s disguise from the security guard who looked at Luna with disdain when we first arrived at the end of August. Wearing a dead man’s face is good for my conscience; not like he’ll get arrested for any crimes I commit tonight.

I’m hoping no serious action will be necessary, but as we all park and fan out across the marina, hiding in boats and behind bushes, I stay close to Stanton and Dione, because that’s the key to staying alive. Luna tells us to look after each other like family, and even though that word has been meaningless for years, we know we better live up to her expectations. So many acolytes would love to take our places.

I tense up as the cargo ship pulls in to the pier. The door swings open, and while the hydra’s growl is chilling, nothing freaks me out more than a dozen armed mercenaries exiting the boat with wands and daggers swinging from their belts. We don’t have nearly as many acolytes as we need to survive this. To even attempt it.

“Let’s call them off,” I say. “Wait for them at the arena.”

“Security at Apollo is tight,” Dione says.

“We’ll die if we move now,” I say.

“We’ll never truly live if we don’t,” Dione says.

Dione lunges into action. She reaches mercenaries with her bursts of swift-speed before their spells can be fired, and she snaps one’s neck. The acolytes come out of hiding, distracting the mercenaries long enough for Stanton to strike.

Here we go.

My wand is charged to the max. I need to make these six blasts of lightning count. I enter the fray right as one acolyte takes a spell straight through his heart, falling over into the river. The mercenary responsible takes aim at me, and I shoulder roll out of the way, almost going over the edge and into the water myself. Before I can fight back, Stanton pops up behind the bearded man, sinks his teeth into his neck, and rips out a chunk of flesh. Blood gushes all over the dock, and the mercenary falls into it, writhing around.

Stanton grins and waves before spinning in time to catch the wrist of someone who was trying to stab him.

Objective: protect the hydra from harm.

Reaching the boat isn’t simple. I only get two discharges out of my wand before a mercenary blasts it in half, burning my hand. An inch to the left would’ve been a head shot. I would’ve died as someone else. . . .

I hop onto the nearest boat and take cover in this ridiculous midlife crisis purchase. The little wobble of the boat is enough to trigger my seasickness. The couple times I rode the ferry with my mother were enough to keep me off water forever. I try to hold my dinner in, but when I look through the foggy window and onto the dock, I see a mercenary pin an acolyte under her boot and shoot a spell between his eyes. I throw up all over my boots.

Dione and Stanton and the remaining three acolytes are being overpowered.

“Ness!” Dione shouts.

There’s fury all over her face as if I’m stronger than her, as if I’m the one who said we should go and try to fight this battle.

New plan: Morph into one of the fallen mercenaries long enough to get past the survivors who are keeping my people at bay. Then we all run.

I’m in the process of modeling myself after the one Stanton thought was acceptable to bite like some vicious storybook vampire when someone tackles me from behind.

“I hate shifters,” the man growls.

He flips me over. He swings his long red hair out of his face, revealing a thick scar that travels across his cheek. Who knows if the hydra that did that became a trophy in his home, but at least that creature managed to slash away half of this man’s nose. The mercenary chokes me, and I’m hoping Stanton and Dione are going to appear out of the shadows and save me, but nothing. I lose concentration on my morph, and my entire glamour fades away.

“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-OneHope

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