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“We’ll wait here,” Dominic said of himself and Blue. The rest of them—Max, Dallas, Travis, Jewels, Malakai, Aspen—were going, by the looks of things. All except Dom, Blue, Maya—Scarlet—and Magenta.

“Let’s go, then,” Max said, heading for the door. “It’s not getting any lighter out there.”

He was putting on his boots when a pair of socked female feet appeared before him. He finished tying his laces and straightened.

His sister stood before him, looking torn.

“Where are you going?” she asked him. The question was as stiff as her posture.

“To find a phone. We need to contact our families.” He tried not to say the last word bitterly, but it came out knife-sharp.

There was no fire in her eyes anymore—they were simply brown. Like the Maya he remembered. The sister who’d watched movies with him, played sword fights with wooden swords in the back yard, raced each other to the neighborhood park to push each other on the swings…

“You don’t want us to come with?” she asked him.

“I’m not going to force you to have a relationship with me, Maya. Scarlet—sorry.” He gave a dismissive wave. “If you want to have one, cool. But if you don’t, whatever. You can leave if you want, and I won’t stop you. I’d just tell you to be careful.”

He opened the hotel room door and walked out.

His sister didn’t follow. And this time, he found that he didn’t care.

It was freeing.

62

Arbor Walk-In Clinic

ARBOR, STATE OF KER

In a tiny sterileexamination room in Arbor’s walk-in clinic, Roman leaned against the back wall, hands in his pockets, and listened to the clock tick. Pax sat in the lone chair beside him, knee bouncing, his erratic pulse filling the room.

Pax had finally woken up late that afternoon, after sleeping non-stop since making it to the motel. He hadn’t used the bathroom that whole time and barely touched the breakfast Itzel had turned into her personal punching bag. The pools of blood in his eyes were mostly gone, the dark lines underneath faded. But he was pale and gaunt and still didn’t have much of an appetite, so Roman had decided to bring him here. The clinic was closing in one hour—they’d barely snuck in on time.

Shay was out in the waiting room. Only family members were allowed back. After their argument, Roman had hoped Shay would decide to leave, but so far no luck. She was still here, and any day now Donovan and his men could track them down. Rape her bloody and slit her throat.

The mere thought of that made his heart pound with rage.

Bounce, bounce, bounce,went Pax’s knee.

Roman placed a hand on his shoulder. The gesture stilled his bobbing knee. “You’re going to be fine,” Roman said gently as the kid stared up at him in fright. “It’s just a check-up.”

Pax returned to bouncing his knee, eyes that were wide as saucers fixed on the open door.

A few minutes later, a male doctor—a hellseher—walked in wearing scrubs. “Afternoon, gentlemen,” he greeted them with a smile. “I’m Doctor Aimes. You must be Paxton.” He gave Pax another friendly smile as he shut the door and took a seat on the stool.

Paxton’s nod was as bouncy as his knee.

Aimes scanned the papers on his clipboard. “Are you Donovan?” He glanced up at Roman.

“Roman,” he replied. “I’m his brother.”

He jotted something down. Roman resisted the urge to rip his pen out of his hand and snap it in half. This was bad enough without the note-taking. “What brings you in today?”

Paxton peeked up at Roman from beneath his mop of hair.

“I’m worried about my brother,” Roman responded politely. He wanted answers, reassurance. So he’d swallow his attitude and be civil, even as the doc kept his pen poised. “We’re evacuees from Yveswich, and the night before last he went into cardiac arrest. I had to perform CPR. Some of his symptoms were the same as a typical Surge—black eyes, intense feelings of panic. He was fine once I got his heart working again, but he slept for over twenty-four hours without waking up.”

There he went with the scribbling again. More evidence that they’d been here. “Has Paxton experienced Surges in the past?”