To unseal your fate, meet at the Cedar Shoals boat ramp, 10pm.
“You never walk alone. Even the devil is the lord of flies.”
Elevatio Infernum
I look up. “What do I get in return?”
My captor pauses, dropping his hand. “Well, what do you want?”
I tap the card on my hand. “Take off your mask.”
“Can’t.” He shrugs. “Said I had to wear it.”
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I narrow my eyes at him. “Just the bottom half then.”
He tilts his head, watching me curiously, but ultimately does as I ask, hooking his thumbs beneath the mask and shimmying it up to his nose.
I step up to him, peering into the dark, shadowed eyes that are watching me, and use a hand on his shoulder to balance myself as I strain up to kiss him.
“You know,” he says, sounding perturbed as he rips off his mask. “What if it ended up being someone else under this thing?”
I scoff. “Come on, it was so clearly you.”
“It was supposed to be Bass.” Reyn takes the card from my hand. “Lucky for me, Em was having one of his moments.”
My smile falls. “Is he okay?”
Reyn takes my hand and helps me over the edge, sure hands steadying my hips. “He is now that he knows it’s me.”
It really isn’t fair. Everyone thinks the aftermath of the accident is exclusive to me and Reyn, but that’s not true. Emory’s been opening up a lot more about his anxiety and stress. No one’s told me directly, but I’m pretty sure he has his own appointment with Doctor Cordell after I leave tomorrow night.
I grimace when I see the hood he has for me.
“Sorry,” he says, placing it over the crown of my head. Before he tugs it all the way over, he pitches forward and kisses me again, lips soft and warm. “It’s going to be fine.”
Masked and cold, I sit on the vinyl cushions, trusting Reyn to get us there safely.
A moment later, the motor cranks. Reyn pushes the throttle so that the boat flies over the water, gliding over the glassy surface. I hold onto my hood with one hand and my seat with the other, and it doesn’t matter that I can’t see anything, because I have Reyn driving me, and I can feel it all. The crisp winter wind across my face, damp and ripe. The bare tree limbs waving as we pass, rattling in grim celebration. I can’t see the moon overhead, but I can feel the pull of it, loud in its magnetism.
You are alive, it’s screaming. You are free.
Mostly I can feel the warmth of Reyn’s fingers, curled sweetly around my wrist.
My lips tug into a smile as the wind whips my hair around my arms, fluttering about me like an excited puppy who’s missed its owner.
I have too much time to think and feel as we buzz across the water. I wonder how much I’m going to be able to video chat with Reyn while I’m at the facility. I wonder if my parents are freaking out as badly as Emory is about me leaving for three weeks. I wonder if the other Devils and Playthings are excited, and I wonder if we’ll get to finally see these Powers That Be.
There’s more of that ratcheting thrill when the boat begins slowing, the sound of the motor decreasing to a hum before cutting off altogether. After the roar of the motor, the sudden silence is jarring in its loudness.
It doesn’t last long before Reyn laces our fingers together, standing. A low, velvety voice rushes against my ear, “I’ve got you.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “I know.”
The bunker doesn’t look the same. It’s been draped in black cloth, shrouding the boundaries of the walls. Dozens of flickering candles cast an eerie, shadowy glow. If they’re going for gothic creepiness, it’s working.
We stand in a line—Emory included—each holding an unlit candle. No one speaks, although Elana’s foot bounces anxiously next to mine and Sebastian has sighed dramatically twice. All eyes shift to the main door when five cloaked figures walk in, standing across from us. Their faces are veiled by their hoods, only the barest sliver of a profile visible at times. Everyone but the person in the center holds something in their hands. They each carry something different. A lit candle. An ornate box. A gold chalice. And a leather book.