Ego nods. “I’ll stay and assist with the planning. The rest of you get a few bags packed. We can’t carry much, but we don’t want to go out into the wilds empty-handed.”

  Nelly glances at Cato. “There’s a closet outside the den with plenty of things that have been left here over the years. It’s just sitting there, collecting dust and taking up space. Take whatever you need.”

  He nods with a quiet thanks.

  I tighten my grip on Xeni’s waist as he moves to stand. “Can you play nice?” I ask in his ear.

  His cheeks lift in a smile. “Well, Sebastian, that depends. What do I get for being a good boy?”

  “Cheeky,” I mutter, tugging his face to mine. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Which part? The escape, the trudge through the desert, or having my two worlds collide?”

  “All of it.”

  “Yeah,” he answers easily, resting his weight against me as he presses a kiss to my jawline. “Yeah, Bash. I’m ready.”

  Xeni

  Darkness embraces the city in a way that feels artificial. It’s far different from nighttime in the village. There, true blackness reigns, broken only by the occasional flicker of a flame or the soft glow from a window. The electricity there is novel enough to be a luxury, usually leaving nights wrapped in quiet stars and peaceful silence.

  Here, a truly dark night is an impossibility. Streetlights line the main paths in steady rows, shop signs remain illuminated despite the late hour, and the high-rise buildings cast towering grids of yellow light from their windows onto the roads below. Even the alleyways are lit by a gentle glow, though shadows linger in the corners and crevices.

  Sakane has lived a lifetime in this city and knows its twists and turns by heart. We spent the afternoon mapping a route and several alternatives, then snatched a few hours of sleep to prepare for the long night ahead.

  Atlanta spans almost ten miles from the east wall to the west, and we’re on foot. Our planned exit is an old drainage system that ends in a culvert through the walls. According to Nelly, it was never guarded because the rushing water had always been too dangerous to consider it a viable entry point. As rain has become scarcer over the years, the flow has all but vanished, but no guards were ever stationed there to account for the change.

  The four miles from Nelly’s apartment to the culvert will take all night and possibly stretch into the morning. We’re relying on sewers, vacant buildings, old subway tunnels, and unpatrolled alleyways, but we still have to be smart—and being smart means channeling my nonexistent patience.

  Nelly walks us to the basement, where everyone takes turns saying goodbye. I hover at the back of the group as always, never quite sure where I’m wanted or appreciated, but she spots my discomfort and reaches for me.

  Her hug is motherly and smells of cinnamon and vanilla. It holds a warmth I haven’t felt since Bheera was forced away from my side that night.

  “I see pieces of her in you, you know,” she whispers, pulling back to look at me with eyes full of quiet affection. “The way you rub your thumbnail against your pointer finger when you’re nervous, and how you think biting your lip can hide your smile. She’s in your laugh. It’s subtle, but it’s there. She left a piece of herself in you, and she would be proud of what you’ve done with it.”

  Heat prickles behind my eye, and I swoop her in for another hug, holding on a moment longer.

  “I’m sorry you lost her,” I whisper as I fight back my tears, “but is it okay to say I’m happy I got to have her for those years?”

  “Yes, child. Of course it’s okay. Her love was always so generous. She wanted to spread it to everyone she met, but you were special. She gave you more than most because she saw you needed it.”

  I squeeze tighter, clinging to the comfort in her arms, and I hope she can feel Bheera in my hug in the same way I do.

  “She showed me what it meant to love. I would’ve been swept away by the hatred in that house if it wasn’t for her. She was there for me when no one else was, and I will never stop being thankful for her and her fantastical stories.” We both choke on a laugh. “All those ridiculous bedtime tales about fated mates and love so powerful it could heal the world. Can you imagine?”

  “Ridiculous, indeed,” she agrees with a soft chuckle.

  I pull back to look into her shimmering eyes. “You’re sure you can’t come with us? I would protect you.”

  “Running is a young person’s game, Xeni. I’m far too old and stubborn to leave this place after so long.”

  “You could be free.”

  Nelly reaches for my face, and I duck to accommodate her shorter stature as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and pats my cheek.

  “Bheera has been gone for over thirty years now, but I still feel her here. Just like that pull draws you to him,” she says as she nods toward Bash, “that tug in my middle yanks sometimes when I’m home. I can’t leave her, even in memory.”

  She becomes contemplative as she studies my face. “How that must’ve destroyed you to be away from him.”

  “It did,” I agree, twisting to find Bash watching us curiously from the sewer entrance. “But it was worth it to save him from the same fate.”

  “Keep him safe,” she says with that same quiet sadness.

  I turn to her once more. It’s goodbye, in that same inexplicable way I knew it was goodbye when Bheera walked out of my bedroom all those years ago. In my heart, I know I’ll never see her again.

  A flood of emotion hits me as I pull her into another hug. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You do the same, sweet boy,” she whispers into my shoulder, and her gaze is fond as it sweeps over the group. “Be safe. If you should ever find yourselves in the city, my home is always open to you.”

  Metal scrapes as Cato drags the cover off the sewer entrance, and he gestures toward the ladder as he glances at me.

  “It’ll be nice not to haul your heavy ass through this time.”

  “You carried me?” I ask, appalled.

  Bash chuckles as he comes to my side. “You aren’t exactly small,” he says. “Do you have any idea how exhausting it was to carry your unconscious body for that long? I was too worn out to get you up that ladder.”

  “You were slung over my shoulders like a backpack,” Cato says with a smirk.

  “I held your ass from underneath, though,” Bash adds.

  I scoff. “So generous of you.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Bash retorts.

  “You can do it again if you want,” I tease as I bump him with my shoulder. “Go down the creepy hole first, then you can support me on my way down.”

  Bash snickers as we glance down the opening. “You want me to carry you when you’re perfectly capable of climbing this time?”

  I grin, shaking my head as I gesture at his hands. “Not carry me… just like, hold me up with your hands. Make me a little throne so I don’t have to use so much energy.”

  “Fucking princess,” he mutters with a chuckle. His hand snakes around my waist, and he tugs me closer. “You want a throne, babygirl? I’ll give you a throne.”

  “Can it be your face?” I ask.

  Bash wheezes an embarrassed laugh, his cheeks darkening in that endearing flush.

  Cato gags loudly on my other side. “I will do literally anything to get away from this conversation.”

  “Do like I suggested weeks ago and jump out the window,” I respond with a cheery smile.

  “Now that you mention it, that’s the better choice,” Cato says, turning to walk towards the stairs and calling back over his shoulder. “Go on without me. I’ll take my chances with gravity and the raid teams in the streets.”

  “Sounds great!” I say with a fluttering wave.

  Bash sighs as if he’s questioning his life choices. “Are you two done yet?”

  I press another quick kiss on his cheek. “Yeah, I’ll be a good boy now.”

  “Fuck’s sake,” Cato groans.

  I can’t help my grin as I grab the sides of the concrete floor and lower myself onto the ladder. My gaze falls past the others and lands on Nelly, and she’s serene as she waves. Before I can convince myself to go to her and get one more taste of that motherly affection, I move down the rungs.

  The dim lighting of the basement is replaced by blackness. My vision takes a moment to adjust, and I glance around the unfamiliar pathways. It’s strange knowing I was carried through these arched tunnels with no recollection of being moved, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as Bash follows me down the ladder. The others follow, and Bash takes my hand.

  “No flashlights, boys,” Ego says as she takes the lead. “We don’t know if they’re monitoring the sewers, and we can’t risk someone seeing from outside.”

  Sakane walks with Ego, occasionally referencing the maps of our planned escape route. It’s nerve-wracking knowing we won’t hear footsteps over the sound of the alarms, so we’re cautious around every corner. Any time we pass an access point, we listen for voices and watch for shifting shadows, but as far as we can tell, we’re alone down here.

  We walk in silence for an hour before we come to a stop in front of a door.

  “Here’s where we have to be careful,” Ego says, like we haven’t gone over the plan a dozen times already. I pay attention obediently, though, fully aware of the consequences of a mistake.

  “This door goes into the bottom level of a parking garage. It’s busier than I’d like, but used by civilians and not military. There are no lights, so stick to the shadows and we should be fine. Four blocks east, there’s an entrance to the old subway system. It’s guarded, but if we time it right, we should be able to slip in without being seen. From there it’s a pretty straight shot to our exit.”

  Heads bob in understanding, and Ego twists the key in the lock. It clicks open, and sirens assault our ears as she cracks the door. Moonlight casts a sliver of light across the beanie covering her blue hair, and she sticks her head out to glance around. After a moment, she waves for the rest of us to follow.

  A few cars are parked on this underground level, but there are no pedestrians in sight. Cato slides his cap on, but there’s nothing I can do to camouflage my horns. My hair is parted to fall in my face and hide the eyepatch, but the shadows are my only real disguise.

  We edge along the concrete walls as we climb the slope to the main level, then hop over the half wall into the alley beyond.

  There are a few people loitering, even at this late hour. A human couple glances in our direction and stares at me a little too intently, but after a pause, they decide they’re not interested.

  Ego leads us through a few turns between the tall buildings, and stops to peel one of her wanted posters off the wall with a grin before moving along. She peers around the corner of our next path, but whips back and charges for the group.

  “Hide!” she whisper-shouts, and we turn and scramble the way we came.

  Cato drops into the shadows behind a parked car and waves for us to follow. My heart rabbits in my chest as we shove ourselves into the tight space, and my magic churns in my stomach, ready to be used.

  Ego pushes her hand out against us like she could shield us from being seen, and after a few tense seconds, two soldiers walk through the alley where we were just standing.

  Their words can’t be heard over the alarms, but their postures are loose. We hold a collective breath as we watch their figures grow smaller. When they disappear around the corner, I exhale a relieved sigh, and we continue along our way.

  Another close call forces us to backtrack and hide once more, and when the entrance to the underground station is in sight, a guard taking a piss causes another delay. We wait until he zips his pants with a grunt, then turns the way he came to finish his rounds.

  We move forward, crouching around the corner and surveying the bored sentry pacing back and forth in front of the entrance.

  Sudden silence crashes over us, so absolute that my eardrums throb in protest.

  The sirens have gone deathly quiet.

  It creates a void where constant noise once roared and presses in like a living thing that exaggerates every rustle and breath.

  We’ve all grown so accustomed to that blaring wall of noise that the hush feels oppressive. It turns the smallest shift of gravel under our boots into a betrayal, and takes away an important layer of our protection.

  We chose this route for its lack of foot traffic, banking on the endless wail of alarms to cloak us in white noise, but now the silence is worse than any spotlight. Every shift of limbs and shuffle of fabric seems to echo off the walls like an explosion in the stillness.

  The guard standing watch shakes his head, clearly reeling from the same disorienting shock.

  Sakane elbows Bash and points at the footbridge that crosses over the street. “I have an idea. Be ready to run.”

  “What—” Bash tries to object, but Sakane disappears into the shadows behind us. I grab Bash’s arm, holding him in place so he can’t charge after his friend.

  “What if he gets caught?” Bash hisses.

  I grimace and gesture around us. “If that guard doesn’t move, we’ll all be caught. Something tells me they won’t be very accommodating once we’re in their cells.”

  “Fuck,” he groans with a sigh, never agreeing but no longer fighting to run.

  Cato keeps watch at the far corner of the building, and everyone is on high alert as the minutes tick by. Bash searches for any signs of Sakane, and eventually, there’s a sound.

  After so long in the stillness, the faint clatter seems much louder. A metal can lands in the distance, rolling in an unsteady path.

  The guard snaps to attention, glancing behind him at the sound. “Gilly? That you?”

  Another tense moment passes where we’re all straining to hear, but instead of a soft thud, what happens next is an explosion of metal. It clanks and groans, and the guard shouts as he sprints toward the noise.

  “Go!” I hiss, and everyone snaps into action.

  We charge across the street while watching the back of the guard as he approaches the crumpled trash can. It’s destroyed from the fall, and its contents spill out of its top as the lid wobbles on its handle.

  Bash slows as we reach the stairs and digs his heels in when I tug. Just as I’m about to throw him over my shoulder and carry him to safety, Sakane lands beside us with a proud grin. I yank Bash’s hand, and he snaps out of his stupor.

  We sprint into the station, running down the stairs as silently as possible.

  It’s eerie down here. Abandoned subway cars have faded into long sections of burnt copper rust and the bleached remnants of paint from a century ago. A few dull lights burn and illuminate the filthy, cracked floors, but most have died a permanent death.

  “I’m surprised they didn’t seal these tunnels off,” Cato whispers.

  Sakane shakes his head. “From what I’ve learned, back in the early days when there was a lot of resistance, they used the underground to move important visitors or supplies through the city. They have enough control now that they don’t need the extra precaution, but it’s too big of a resource to close off completely.”

  “The average citizen forgets they’re even here,” Ego says as she leads the way into a tunnel, “but black-market shit has been happening out of sight for ages. Stay on alert, because there’s no telling who we might run into down here.”

  “That’s encouraging,” I mutter.

  Bash squeezes my hand as we take off through the tunnels, and once we’re deep enough, Ego flips on a flashlight. The single ray of light should be a comfort, but it only unlocks a whole new wave of unease.

  Graffiti lines the walls, some fresh while others are long faded. Full murals of hand-painted masterpieces and messages of peace are scattered amongst the hate, but the anger takes center stage.

  Sloppy spray-painted curses, an ongoing back and forth of threats, and promises to reclaim the city. Trepidation tickles my spine as I stare at the words that feel like a bullseye on my forehead.

  Kill the beasts.

  The monsters must pay.

  Spill their blood.

  Pictures join the threats—knives covered in red splatters and orange flames surrounding screaming silhouettes. My throat works in a nervous swallow as my gaze darts around the dark tunnels.

  The anger is justified.

  It’s righteous, aimed at a group of people who made themselves the enemy from day one.

  “You okay?” Bash murmurs from beside me.

  I glance at him with my lip bitten between my teeth. My reaction is to smile and say I’m fine, and wear the mask that’s become so much a part of my identity it’s seamless.

  But I’m so damn tired of hiding behind it.

  I gesture at the walls and the ugly words written across them. “It just kind of hit me that I don’t have a lot of friends.”

  He tilts his head in question, the balls of his brow piercing reflecting the light with the motion. “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone hates me,” I say, casting another glance at the graffiti. “My kind are hunting me, and your kind want me dead, too. Doesn’t exactly bring the warm fuzzies.”

  Bash slides closer and hooks his arm around my waist. We’re a little clumsy as we walk like this, struggling to sync our footsteps, but I’d never push him away.

  “You know I’d protect you, right?” he asks, watching me closely.

  I glance over. “Can’t protect me from the entire world, I’m afraid.”

  His hum sounds unconvinced. “I can certainly try. I won’t even need a gun—”

  “Because you have horrible aim,” I tease, a tiny grin sneaking onto my mouth.

  He rolls his eyes. “—but give me the right chemicals and I’ll go scorched earth on their asses.”

  I chuckle as I lean in and press a kiss on his lips. “Saving the world one makeshift bomb at a time.”

  “Damn straight,” he says with a nod. “Don’t mess with the nerds.”

  “Mistake number one,” I agree with a widening smile. “You’re a triple whammy too. Comic nerd and a hero complex mixed with all that science shit.”