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

and I’m so damn nervous that Brighton is going to keep pushing back the goalposts on when we give up the powers. And the truth is that I doubt he ever will give them up, though I don’t understand why. He could easily make a living out of being Brighton Rey, the dude who was once infinite. He could chill back and engage with his millions of followers and publish some tell-all memoir about what it was like being on the inside of this war. But I know my brother too well. No spotlight will shine bright enough unless he’s the Infinity Savior.

I tell Brighton and Prudencia I need air and then bounce.

I head straight to the library without a second thought. I enter cautiously in case Wyatt is still busy with his virtual meeting, but it’s quiet and completely empty. I’m nervous he might be sleeping, wherever he’s set up his bed in here. I step quietly and find Wyatt lounging in his usual spot on the balcony, dressed in the leather Halo Knight jacket with black feathered sleeves I haven’t seen him in since we met three days ago. Nox is eating away at some of the foliage wrapped around the stone railings as a sun swallower blazes across the dark sky.

“Man, your view is way better than mine,” I say.

Wyatt turns with a dimpled smile. “My view is rather fantastic,” he says while looking me up and down. “But yours is six feet of gorgeousness too.”

“Walked right into that one,” I say.

“Glad you did. Are you here for a celebratory toast? You did something absolutely skybreaking, love. I’m proud of you.”

I’m frozen, staring at the stars. There’s been a lot of hate from strangers, calls to do more from Brighton, unappreciation of my efforts from Maribelle, and sympathy from Prudencia, but no one’s been proud of me. Even I haven’t been. “All I did was go on the journey. You’re the one who figured out the road.”

Wyatt leans forward solely so he can pat himself on the back. “Crest was pleased to hear the news. It’s been difficult for him, adjusting as commander, since he wasn’t exactly next in line by a long shot, but when all those Haloes were killed he had to rise to the challenge. Doesn’t matter that he’s only thirty-three. The Bronze Wings are now his responsibility.”

“Bronze Wings?”

“Yeah, it’s the biggest division of Haloes. The Council of Phoenixlight restructured a decade ago to better manage the thousand or so active Halo Knights around the world. The Bronze Wings are those who have been Haloes for under twenty-five years, then it’s Silver Wings for fifty years, and Gold Wings for seventy-five years and beyond. While many of the Gold Wings are councilmembers who pass down their knowledge to us, Crest is going to have the great pleasure of letting them know that one of our group’s youngest—and most handsome—worked out how to get specters to retrocycle.”

“I hope they appreciate how brilliant you are.”

“They’ll either commission a statue in my honor or bury me alive for training humans to better use phoenix powers. Frankly, I’m not sure I can survive a sculptor’s failed attempts to capture my magnificence, so I’ll opt for the elders burying me with a flashlight and a long book.”

“I’ll go up against these elders instead of Blood Casters any day.”

“They’re mostly good people. I’m curious what they’ll think of you.”

“I hope there’s some forgiveness. Brighton’s got me pretty worked up over how much longer he thinks we’ll have to be the Infinity Kings. I want to make the world a better place, just like he does—not only because it’s what I owe, but because it’s the right thing for anyone to do. That better world just looks different for me. It looks less like a Spell Walker’s and more like yours.”

“It’s not a life without its heartache, but the wins of a Halo Knight are absolutely wonderful.”

I lean against the stone railing with my arms folded across my chest. “It must be really beautiful the day someone gets to become a Gold Wing. To know that you have spent your life doing the right thing.”

“Doing the right thing means taking care of yourself too. My mum has always gone on about how self-care isn’t valued nearly enough, especially in our culture, with how much of ourselves we give to the phoenixes. We have more to offer when we take care of ourselves. I’m not sure how much time you spend doing that.”

I think about how Wyatt has talked about having great sex and how that’s something I’ve always been interested in with someone I’m dating. I really hoped back in high school that something could’ve gone down with Nicholas, who trusted me with the secret that he was a celestial, but that didn’t work out. Then how hyped I was giving that guy Charlie a tour at the museum before he revealed himself to be someone who didn’t give a shooting star about the lives of phoenixes. And of course Ness, who is so damn special that it feels insulting to even think of him so immediately after thinking of someone I was never going to get along with. But I always hold back, keeping my truths from myself, from others.

“I don’t want to be a Spell Walker or the Infinity Son or anything high-profile. I want to be a discreet Halo Knight and figure out the most effective way to protect phoenixes.”

“I think you would be a divine Halo. Now I know you can fly, but are you afraid of heights?”

“Not really,” I say. “Though I’m not super experienced like Maribelle. I’ve only flown great distances a couple times.”

Wyatt gets up from his chair and rubs Nox’s neck. “No matter. Your power will be gone soon enough—despite what your brother might think—and if you’re going to be a Halo Knight, you should be familiar with what it’s like to ride a phoenix.”

I shake my head because this is so absurd.