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T he inauguration is a subdued affair. I stand behind my sister in the cloudy light, a flurry falling silently around us as she pledges her oath of office on a Bible.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her in weeks. Ever since the press conference, she’s been in meetings or somehow unavailable whenever I ventured to her office or her room. She, Vince, and Fatima have been on the move or otherwise occupied while Candice and I grumble with each other, or I spend time in my lab.

With the entire world buzzing about “Juno’s Miracle” as it’s been styled, she never has a moment for anything else. It’s always the campaign. Solidifying her lead. Touting her plans to save the country.

At least she hasn’t mentioned superhumans again—not to me or the media. There have been questions, of course, plenty of them. But Fatima keeps tight control on any press interactions, ensuring Juno is insulated from any truly probing questions.

My unease has grown more each day that she’s been absent, so much so that I had a panic attack on the train that took us from Austin to DC. I’d curled into a ball, my breathing coming too fast and blood rushing in my ears. This inauguration was a foregone conclusion, Juno’s victory decisive despite myriad voting problems and the thinning populace.

All the noise from the campaign is silent now, the world finally still. The worries that’ve been eating at me seem small under the wide expanse of cloudy sky overhead, the National Monument pointing out just how insignificant we are in the face of everything.

The Mall is empty, no one risking the plague or the rows of razor wire to show up for the event. Most of the DC monuments have been closed to the public for months, and not even an inauguration is a good enough reason to open them up again. Without all the pomp and cheering spectators, the whole thing seems like a phoned-in exercise, children playing at democracy or a dry-run before the real event. Even so, it must be done. Juno isn’t the type of person to miss any detail or leave any opening for someone to challenge her term in office.

Unused to wearing heels, my feet ache from standing, and the borrowed dress I’m wearing does nothing against the cold. I pull my coat tighter and wish Juno would focus on speaking faster, not clearer with that determined tilt to her inflection. I suppose my discomfort is nothing in the face of unifying the nation and reassuring the world that the United States is still united. All the same, I can’t wait to get inside and out of these clothes.

I’m certain I’m not the only miserable one out here. Glancing to my right, I see Valen standing across the aisle from me, his eyes forward, his stillness almost preternatural. The snow doesn’t seem to bother him. Neither does the sun. I suppose the vampire theory is out the window. Even so, after his feat with the blood, I have to admit he’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. Months have passed since the demonstration in front of the press, but I know just as little now as I did then. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about him, asked around and even tried searching what’s left of the Internet for any data on him. Nothing. He’s a ghost, someone who didn’t exist until he showed up at my sister’s office. And now he’s embedded, a part of Juno like some sort of deadly parasite. He turns his head just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes a deep blue in the filtered light. As if he knew I was watching him. My heart thumps harder against my ribs, and I look away.

Juno’s promised me answers, promised me the best lab in the country, and most importantly—promised me access to Valen’s blood. Now that she’s being sworn in, those promises are about to come to fruition. A pit yawns in my stomach, a place where I put all my self-doubt and worry. What if I can’t work out a vaccine? What if I have every tool at my disposal and still fail? What if I’m not good enough? It’s a never-ending litany, a minefield that I dance through anytime my brain gets the least bit quiet. There’s also another dark place my thoughts go. Valen. His people. I can’t help but wonder what Juno promised him . Something tells me Valen isn’t offering his precious blood for nothing in return.

I force myself to focus on the pomp and the ritual. Changing of the guard. Even so, I’m aware of every movement Valen makes, though he makes very few—simply turning his head minutely, like a hawk scanning for prey far beneath him. Once Juno’s finished with her oath, a small military band plays from a platform below us as a few dozen dignitaries, her Cabinet, and a handful of members of the Supreme Court stand and applaud.

I can’t keep myself from glancing at Valen, though he doesn’t look my way again.

Front row seats at the inauguration are usually reserved for former presidents or high-ranking senators. But now it’s only him, the seat beside him empty and the next one taken by the Speaker of the House. He’s made it to the most powerful spot in the country—right behind my sister. The thought sends a fresh chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the freezing temperatures.

Her vice presidential pick, an older senator from out west, is nothing more than a placeholder a few seats down. Vince said he’s some sort of political favor owed and paid by Juno. He already looks half asleep, his gray head nodding forward a bit.

When the show is over and the smattering of applause finally dies down, the producer motions that the broadcast to the nation has ended.

“Thank God that’s over with.” Vince, standing just off-camera, has been on a hair trigger for the entire ceremony. “We should get inside.” He nods to the Secret Service positioned at the bottom of the stairs.

“Madame President.” He strides to Juno and offers his arm.

She takes it and they walk up the aisle, leading the way into the warmth of the Capitol Building. I try to remember if I go next or if I wait for the people across the aisle to go. Maybe the vice president goes next? Shit . But Valen isn’t moving. That must mean I’m up. I turn, my ankle almost giving as I try to maneuver along the red carpet. I rein it in and take a few more steps, emboldened by the fact I haven’t fallen yet.

The band suddenly goes squeaky and off-key, the sound crashing. Then I hear faint pops. I recognize it immediately. Gunfire. My stomach sinks, the world going bright and terrifying in a heartbeat.

“Juno!” I scream and look for her. She and Vince are on the stairs above me. He’s already dragged her in front of him and is pushing her to safety. Someone to my left falls, crumpling to the carpet with blood and bits of pink brain splattered onto their fur coat. Screams tear through the crystalline winter air, and the gunshots grow louder as people drop or run, some of them falling. Others crawling or ducking behind the folding chairs.

I take a few more steps before my ankle finally turns all the way and I fall. But I don’t hit the stone. Someone grabs me and yanks me up, then propels me forward. Stumbling over bodies and past screaming faces, I can’t stop, not with the force of the person at my back.

When we reach the stairs, I climb the first and second, and then I’m off my feet. Carried. I’m being carried.

I look up to see a sharp collar and pale skin. Valen. He’s bounding up the stairs with me against his hard chest as gunshots ricochet off the stairs beside us. More screams fill the air, and something nearby explodes, the huge flames so hot I feel them on the side of my face. The surprise of it pulls a scream from me.

He reaches the Capitol door and rushes in right as Vince leaps forward and slams it shut behind us.

“Go!” Vince yells.

Valen barrels ahead through another set of doors. With a jolt, he puts me on my feet, his scent of sandalwood, something smoky, and soap still in my nose. Then I’m almost tackled by someone else.

“Georgia!” Juno hugs me so tightly I lose my breath. “Oh my god, are you all right? Are you shot? Let me see.” She pulls open my coat and looks me over.

“Me? What about you?” I check her out simultaneously, looking for any wounds.

“I’m fine.” She grabs my hands. “I’m not hurt.”

We’re both shaking, both close to tears, and we hug again.

When we part, she calls over my shoulder. “Vince?”

“It’s over.” He presses a tiny wired speaker tighter into his ear. “The Service is sweeping through now. They’ve shot and killed four of them and taken two into custody.”

“Who was it? President Gray?” I ask.

“We don’t know yet. Could be his supporters, but we just don’t know.”

“Where are they taking the prisoners?” Valen steps forward, his tone calm and cold.

“There’s a holding cell near the vestibule where they?—”

Valen turns on his heel and strides away without so much as a glance in my direction. As if he didn’t just save my life. As if it was nothing to him.

Vince doesn’t seem bothered by Valen’s abruptness and presses the earpiece tighter again before peeking out the window onto the Capitol Grounds. “Ambulances are on the way, and we’ve got some stragglers coming up the stairs. Time to get you to the White House. We’ll take the tunnels.” He turns and hurries toward us. “Let’s go.”

I let him lead us away, though I look back for Valen. The man who carried me to safety is long gone, and now he’s an even bigger mystery than before.