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“N one of this seems real.” I plop onto a sofa in the Oval Office and tuck my socked feet beneath me. “Does it?”

Juno sits at the fabled desk as if she were born to it. “It’s what we worked for.”

Fatima hurries in with a tray in her hands, her big eyes warm as she looks down at me. “Coffee?” she asks.

“God, yes.” I groan as she hands me a cup. “Aww, you already sugared and creamed me? Thanks.” I take a sip. “It’s perfect.”

“I know you.” She shrugs and takes the tray to the desk so Juno can get her cup.

“Have you heard back from Vince?” Juno asks.

“Yes.” Fatima glances at her watch. “He should be here within the hour.”

“You should have some coffee, too. I know you’re just as frazzled as we are. I still can’t believe …” I don’t finish the thought, and I hear the phantom pop of gunfire.

“I’ve had enough tea today to fuel an entire army. Don’t worry.” Fatima smiles. “Even without the attack, it’s a lot. Caffeine is a must.” She glances around the Oval Office, the bit of wonder in her matching the same in me.

We’re actually here. Juno said it, and like she does with everything, she made it happen through sheer force of will.

“It’s nearly midnight.” Juno rubs her eyes. “I’d like a report on casualties so I can put together an address to the nation first thing in the morning.”

“Vince will be here soon. You know how he is.” Fatima takes the tray out of the room then leans back in. “Madame President, General Shaw has arrived.”

“Real coffee.” I savor each sip. “This is heaven.”

“Send him in,” Juno calls.

A man with more medals on his chest than hairs on his head strides in, his back painfully straight. “We’ve told the branches to stand down for now. Once you’ve given me the extent of the threat, we can mobilize.”

“Good.” Juno gives him a bleary-eyed look. “Terrorists can’t gain a foothold. Not now.”

“No, ma’am,” he says gruffly. “We’ll wipe them out before they so much as take their next piss.”

“Thank you, General,” Juno says, the dismissal in her voice clear.

He salutes and leaves, each step certain and steady.

“Wow, so he came all this way to just … say that and hightail it out of here?” I ask.

“The Pentagon isn’t a long way.” Juno shrugs, then cracks half a smile. “I bet he’s fun at parties.”

“Yep, a real class clown.” I can’t help but smile.

We’ve been huddled in the White House ever since the inauguration, first in some sort of underground bunker and then in a wood-paneled “Situation Room.” Once the Secret Service gave the all clear, we were able to come out and actually move around, trying to let the reality of living in the White House finally sink in. But it’s not easy, not when I’m seeing it through a nightmare lens. We all need to sleep off what happened, if that’s possible. To look at it with fresh eyes and recalibrate.

“I knew this would be a dangerous road.” Juno sighs and cradles her coffee cup with both hands. “But I didn’t expect it to turn to bloodshed so quickly.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” I take a bigger gulp of my coffee. “I’d hate to have to pull the sister card and make myself president if you were gone.”

She gives me a wry look. “I don’t think that’s how it works, sis.”

I shrug. “Give me the nuclear codes, and I’ll make sure that’s the way it goes.”

“I think you’re delirious.”

Letting my eyes close and stay that way, I say, “I think you could be right.” The adrenaline from earlier is gone, leaving lethargy in its wake. My head is full of cotton, none of my fragments of ideas blending into true thought. The one thing I can get a grip on is the feeling of arms around me, of being carried by a man who could save the world with his blood. How could he have risked himself for me like that? He’s irreplaceable. Hell, he should be under lock and key right this second. His blood—no, wait. Blood. It’s like a record scratch in my mind. The blood on the ground, the screams from around me. How many people died? Are there bodies still on the stairs, staining the red carpet a deeper crimson?

“He’s here.” Fatima’s voice snaps me back to reality. I almost spill my coffee as I sit a little straighter.

Vince stomps through the door, his expression even grumpier than usual and his sleeves rolled up.

“Well?” Juno asks.

Valen follows him in, his suit and appearance still impeccable. It’s as if nothing has touched him, not the death or the terror. His eerie stillness gives more credence to Juno’s claims of superhumans among us, and once again, his gaze finds me.

“They weren’t with Gray.” Vince sits heavily, the smell of stale sweat wafting from him.

“Bullshit,” Juno seethes. “It has to be him.”

“No.” Vince seems too tired to argue the point further.

“Then who?” I ask. The idea of my sister already having enemies lining up to take her down sends a sick feeling swirling through my gut.

“These men were sent by a faction of my people. I’ll handle it.” Valen clasps his hands behind his back, his posture rigid. “They’ll not be a problem again.”

“ Your people?” Juno stands, fire flashing in her eyes. “We had a deal, Dragonis. Gregor promised me?—”

“Gregor?” I blurt. It seems exhaustion has loosened my tongue. “Who’s Gregor?”

Juno waves a hand at me. “Not important right now. What is important.” She stabs a finger at Valen. “Is that your people step the fuck back and abide by our deal.” Moving around the desk, she crosses her arms over her middle. “In fact, I want you at the CDC lab first thing in the morning. Georgia will be your direct contact from now on. She’ll tell you what she needs from you, and you will give it. Understand?” Her cutting tone makes me squirm in my seat, but my head’s clear enough that I don’t interrupt again.

Valen isn’t ruffled in the least. In fact, he steps forward, his tall frame looming over Juno. “The agreement is still in place. We’ll deliver what we promised, and we expect you to do the same.”

Vince’s hand twitches toward his hip.

“No need, Mr. Camden.” Valen turns his head so quickly I jump. “I was just leaving.” He strides out with all the severity of a storm, taking a crackling, smarting tension with him.

“We need to talk,” Vince growls, his eyes on the closing door. “About that .”

“He’s not your concern.” Juno returns to her seat at the desk. “What did the captured thugs have to say?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Her voice is sharp, icy. “Why don’t you know?”

“I don’t know because the man who’s ‘not my concern’ killed them before I got a chance to speak to them.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Never even saw their bodies. They were being wheeled out in bags when I got there, his people dressed head to toe in these black plastic getups, like goddamn radiation suits, taking the bodies away.”

“Wait.” I set my coffee cup on the table in front of me and lean forward. “He killed them? But he can’t do that. There are laws. There are …” My ears begin to ring, my face going hot. I look at Juno. “Don’t you have to arrest him? You can’t just let him go. He can’t … can’t do that.”

Her brows furrow. “He said it was his people. If that’s how he deals with his own, then it’s no concern of ours.”

“Like some kind of immunity?” I blink several times, my mind spinning like tires on black ice. “But this is America. You can’t just get away with murder. You can’t?—”

“They tried to kill us, Georgia!” Juno barks. The vehemence in her tone is like a slap. “They tried to kill us, and they got what they deserved. End of story.”

Part of me—a part I don’t like to acknowledge—agrees with her. Part of me is glad they’re dead. But that doesn’t mean it’s right. She has to know that. And the fact that Valen killed them, that he did it and then showed up looking like nothing had happened—I don’t know what to make of it. It’s like swallowing a pill that sticks in your throat.

“It’s all cleaned up now.” Vince seems to have aged a decade in the space of a few hours. “Right down to the last speck of blood. Dragonis is thorough. Even wiped the surveillance already, though I don’t fucking know how. There’s nothing left to prove those two prisoners were ever taken into custody.”

“Holy shit.” I rub my temples.

“Any word on our injured?” Juno asks.

“Senator Unger and Representative Whitson are dead. Several others are wounded, two severely. Associate Justice Pearson is in surgery right now. They don’t know if he’s going to make it. Vice President Shellhurst wasn’t shot?—”

Juno gasps and puts a hand to her mouth. “I seriously didn’t even think about him till right then.”

Vince’s scowl deepens, the lines in his forehead doubling. “But he fell in the chaos and likely broke his hip. We’ll know more later.”

“What a mess.” Juno cocks her head toward the door. “Fatima!”

She hurries in, notepad in hand. “Ma’am?”

“Write up my remarks for the morning. I want them brief and strong. President Gray’s supporters tried to overturn democracy, but we will not let anarchy reign in this nation. Not now, not ever. Something along those lines, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s all. Thanks.” Juno dismisses her.

“But that’s not what happened.” Am I hearing Juno correctly? “Vince just said Gray wasn’t behind it.”

“Vince, let me talk to Georgia. Get some rest. We’re secure here.” Juno stands and walks over to me as Vince lumbers from the room.

She sits beside me and throws her arm around my shoulders. Warm and familiar, she still smells faintly of the perfume she always wears. It’s comforting. At least, it should be. But if anything, I feel a sense of disquiet, one that’s growing stronger as she pulls me to her.

“Listen, I know it seems harsh. But this is my first hundred days. The country is on a hair trigger with at least four states wanting to secede. I can’t let that happen. I can’t be the last president of this nation. If I don’t come out swinging, they’ll see me as weak, as a target, as someone they can push around. We could lose everything right when we’re on the cusp of ending the plague.”

I shake my head. “We won’t lose anything by telling people the truth.”

“You remember how you reacted when I told you we’re working with a race of superhumans to save the human race? How you reacted to the truth?”

I grumble. “That’s different.”

“Is it? I don’t think so. And I also don’t think that telling this fractured nation that the very ones responsible for ‘Juno’s Miracle’ are the same ones who attacked my inauguration is what we need to move forward. We need unity, not suspicion or worry. Valen said he handled the problem. We have to trust in that and keep going to end this crisis.”

I roll my eyes. “Spoken like a true politician.”

“Look.” She sighs. “There’s a reason you’re here. You’re going to find the cure, Georgia. I know it. I felt it the moment I learned about Valen’s blood, about what it can do. The rest of it is just noise.” She lays her head on my shoulder. “I need you to support me on this. On all of it. I need you, sis. More now than ever before. Do you understand?”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “Yes. You’ve always been there for me. Always protected me. I’m not trying to be na?ve, but?—”

“That’s not a flaw. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”

I look at her sidelong. “Buttering me up?”

“Maybe.” She squeezes me tighter for a moment. “Is it working?”

Juno would never do anything to hurt me, to hurt others. I need to remember that. This is probably the first of many tough decisions she’s going to have to make if she wants to unify the country and bring it back from the brink of collapse. She’s made a million hard choices since she became governor, and those are going to be even more agonizing, more highly scrutinized now. She needs me. I have to remember the big picture, the reason why I’m here.

“A little.” I shrug.

“This whole thing is going to get easier. I promise.” She raises her head and looks at me.

I meet her gaze. “Except for that part where you think Valen’s a superhuman with never-before-analyzed DNA and promised the country a cure in a year.”

“One thing at a time.” She smooths a hand down my arm. “It’s going to happen. With you working alongside the other top minds at the CDC, it’s a done deal.”

“I can’t tell if that’s optimism or delusion.”

“The first one.”

“Hmmph.” I can’t think about the work. About tomorrow. About Valen and superhumans and what Juno said concerning me working with him. It’s all too heavy. I can’t take another bit of straw on my spine, one more morsel on my tongue. Not until I digest today, swallow it down and keep it somewhere dark and dusty.

“You still trust me?” she asks.

I can feel her hold her breath, as if the world is riding on my answer. It comes easily. “Yes.” And it’s the truth.

She gives me a half smile. “Good.” Standing, she takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Now get to bed. You have a long day tomorrow at the lab.”

“Okay.” I hesitate.

“What?” She yawns.

“I don’t know where my bedroom is.”

“We’ll go together. Come on.” Linking her arm through mine, we stroll across the White House, Secret Service lurking in corners and doorways as she points out the different rooms and what they hold. I shouldn’t be surprised she knows every square inch of the layout. Juno’s not the sort of person to leave anything to chance. By the time we get to the bedroom wing, I’m almost asleep on my feet. “Why is one entire room blue? Seems Willy Wonka-ish, right?”

“There’s a green room and a red room, too. And I didn’t even show you the China room.”

“What color is China?”

“It’s plates. That kind of China. Not a color.”

“Huh?”

“You’re hopeless. Sleep with me tonight?” she asks.

“Yes.” I agree easily. When I was still little, I’d crawl into her bed and snuggle close whenever I had nightmares. They were frequent right after my adoption though I never remembered them. The child therapist said I blocked out my memories right along with my dreams. Whatever trauma they hold can’t hurt me. Unlike bullets and sky-high expectations.

Juno crawls into a king-sized bed in an unfamiliar room, and I sink down on the other side, sliding between the cool covers. “Whose room is this?”

“Mine, I’m pretty sure,” she mumbles against her pillow, then laughs a little. “Does it matter? I’m the president. Whichever room I say is mine, is mine.”

“Fair point.” I snuggle deeper into the duvet.

“Get some sleep.”

“Love you, sis,” I whisper.

“Love you, too.”

I close my eyes and wish away any bad dreams.

But wishing has never once stopped terrible things from happening.