Icon and inferno, p.28
Icon and Inferno,
p.28
“Hello,” she said softly.
“How the hell did you get in here?” he replied, glancing down the street. “That gate’s ten feet high, and the security guard didn’t call me.”
A month apart, and those were the first words out of his mouth. Sydney couldn’t help the smile that emerged on her lips.
“Don’t you know me at all?” she answered, and he laughed.
The only time she’d ever really gotten a chance to take him in was, well, during their night together—and even now, she had the urge to keep her sights trained on his front yard, ever wary of watchful eyes. But they were alone here, and for once, she let herself admire him.
“Let’s just say that I’m not supposed to be here,” she added. “Can I come in?”
He opened the door wider, and she stepped inside, removing her wet shoes before glancing around. The space was serene and cozy, more modest than she thought a superstar’s home would be, filled with clean lines and thick rugs, fluffy couches and tasteful lights.
A beautiful grand piano stood at the far end of the living room, past a fireplace and against a series of glass walls that led to the garden outside. It was there that Winter led them now, facing her as he leaned against the instrument’s sleek body with his hands in his pockets.
“Did Sauda send you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “She’s going to kill you if she finds out.”
“Yeah, well, I’m always going to be her problem child.”
“I’m pretty sure Tems took that title from you.” His smile wavered. “What are you doing here?”
They were close enough now that she could feel the slight warmth of his breath against her skin. “I wanted to see you,” she said simply.
This time, she thought she could see a shudder of fear run through him, could make out the subtle widening of his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.
“I…” he said, his voice hoarse, “I can’t see you. It’s too risky.”
“I know,” she replied. “And yet here I am.” Then she felt the fear, too, and her eyes lowered. “Please don’t turn me away,” she whispered.
When she looked up at him again, the fear in his eyes was gone, replaced by something gentler. “How long do you have?” he murmured.
“Not long.” She looked out the window again, then back at him. “I have to be on a flight tomorrow morning.”
He studied her face for answers. She didn’t know if he found them, but after another pause, he reached his hand out and took hers, letting their fingers intertwine loosely. His skin felt warm, leaving her palm tingling.
He glanced toward the stairs. “Follow me,” he whispered.
She did so without a word as he led her up the steps and along a narrow hall that opened into a large, lush suite of a bedroom, one with the same long windows overlooking the private courtyard. The rain sounded more subdued up here, the echo hollow against his roof. It was just enough noise that, if they whispered, it was as if they weren’t speaking at all.
Here, he turned toward her and moved closer. She took a step back until she could feel the glass behind her. His eyes were locked on hers now, and in those dark irises, she could catch reflections of the storm outside.
“I can’t promise you anything,” she whispered.
He nodded, but his gaze never broke from hers. “I know,” he whispered back.
Sydney felt a familiar panic rising once more. “I can’t say that I love you, and I can’t be here when you need me. I can’t cheer for you when you accomplish something great. I can’t accept any gifts from you, and I can’t give you anything in return. I can’t tell you when I’m in trouble. I won’t even have a phone number you can dial, not unless you want to risk Sauda finding out about us.” She swallowed. Sydney had been in a thousand situations that should frighten anyone, but this moment scared her more than any of them. “I know I shouldn’t be here, Winter. I can’t give you anything real.”
“Then let’s not make each other promises we can’t keep,” he replied. He reached out to run his fingers through her hair, and she leaned into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his skin as if she might never feel it again.
“What can we keep?” she murmured.
He lowered his head toward hers, his eyes turned shyly down. When his lips brushed against her cheek, she felt herself lean instinctively forward. Her eyes fluttered closed. He planted soft kisses at the edges of her lips, then kissed her fully. His lips were so soft, the taste of him so sweet. Vaguely, she could feel him sliding her jacket from her shoulders, and shivered at the feeling of his fingers running against the fabric of her shirt.
“Here’s a promise I can give to you,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise that, when you need me, you can always find me.”
He kissed her, and she kissed him back, tugging the collar of his shirt loose, hinting for more, afraid for more, cherishing this little slice of time.
“If you find yourself feeling alone,” he whispered, “I promise I’ll come to you.”
Would he ever brush against her skin again?
Would she ever get to touch his lips again?
He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze. His hand touched her chin, tilting it up gently. “And someday,” he murmured, “in some future, when I’m no longer wanted on a stage, and when you no longer want to be a secret agent … let’s say that, if you aren’t trying to find someone else, I promise I’ll come find you.” His lips brushed hers again. “I promise I’m yours.”
A future where Winter stepped away from the spotlight and she stepped out of the shadows. Sydney closed her eyes, felt his hands run along her back, and let herself imagine the possibility. It sounded like a scene from a far, far future, one where they’d both grown old—but a possible one, one that could exist.
“It’s a promise,” she said softly.
His hand grasped hers and brought it up to his chest, where she could feel the faint rhythm of his heart. His breaths were shallow, and his eyes were still closed, as if savoring some sacred thing. He leaned his forehead against hers. Locks of black hair fell across his face.
“I don’t love you,” he murmured.
“I don’t love you, too,” she whispered back.
Later, when he was asleep beside her, she would rise in the dark and slip her clothes on without a sound, would disappear from his room along with the last traces of night. When he woke up alone and unsurprised, she would already be on a plane, staring down at the approaching landscape of a different city. She didn’t know when they would see each other again. She didn’t know whether their feelings for each other would remain the same. There were a million things she couldn’t begin to know.
But perhaps there was beauty in not knowing. Maybe that was its own form of love, the faith of coming together even when you couldn’t see the path in front of you, when you had no idea whether joy or heartbreak would await you further down the road of life, when you had nothing but a guiding light in the distance to yearn for.
Maybe love was not knowing and going ahead anyway.
So this time, when he kissed her, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
And let herself fall.
MISSION LOG
AGENT A: “And here are his most recent files.”
AGENT B: “Thank you, ma’am.”
AGENT A: “You’ll notice I highlighted some areas involving Mr. Young and the Jackal. I’ll need you to scrub any mentions of them from those reports. Make sure we keep them both clean.”
AGENT B: “I’ll have it done by the end of the week.”
AGENT A: “Excellent. What is it?”
AGENT B: “Nothing. That is—I just wanted to extend my condolences to you, ma’am. I know you worked with Niall for a long time.”
AGENT A: “Yes. Well. It’s the price we pay in this job, isn’t it?”
AGENT B: “Yes. I know I have big shoes to fill.”
AGENT A: “You were sent to us with high praise. You’ll do fine. I hope you stay with us for a long time.”
AGENT B: “Thank you, ma’am. And as for the Jackal … shall I follow up with her about [REDACTED]?”
AGENT A: “Give her a few weeks off. She deserves some peace, at least temporarily.”
AGENT B: “Yes, ma’am.”
AGENT A: “And don’t be surprised if she gives you a hard time. If she tries to bite your head off, it just means she’s feeling herself again.”
AGENT B: “Always good to know. And, ma’am?”
AGENT A: “Yes?”
AGENT B: “About Mr. Young. Shall I retire his file?”
AGENT B: “Ma’am?”
AGENT A: “Yes … I’m thinking.”
AGENT B: “It seems unlikely to me that we’ll call on him again. Besides, I hear he’s taking a brief hiatus from his public career. Lessens his value as an asset.”
AGENT A: “No, keep it open.”
AGENT B: “Even after everything?”
AGENT A: “Especially after everything.”
AGENT B: “That impressive, huh?”
AGENT A: “Let’s just say there’s some of his brother in him. We may not call on him for a while, but then again, our line of business is unpredictable, isn’t it?”
AGENT B: “An understatement. Very well, ma’am. I can change the marker on his file later, if we decide otherwise.”
AGENT A: “Good. And let’s keep this conversation between us.”
AGENT B: “Will do, ma’am. Loyalty to a secret.”
AGENT A: “Loyalty to a secret.”
Acknowledgments
So much of writing this book and Stars and Smoke was about bringing myself and others joy during the pandemic, a time that still haunts us today. Sometimes, when I think back on the origins of this story, all I can see is myself in a fog, wondering if we could ever return to our lives, if I would ever meet readers again, if we would ever find our way back. I write my happiest books during the most turbulent times, and I needed the support of others more than ever to make this story possible.
All my gratitude to Kristin Nelson, my agent going on fifteen(!) years, and the NLA team for always championing this series and sticking by me; and to my incredible, kind, courageous editors and friends, Jen Besser and Kate Meltzer, for guiding me through these books and holding my hand. You work so, so, so hard behind the scenes, and you are so dedicated to both the craft and the creatives. I am forever lucky to build stories with you both.
Our team at Macmillan Children’s and Fierce Reads is an absolute dream. To the wonderful Emilia Sowersby, Ana Deboo, Kathy Wielgosz, Jennifer Healey, Melissa Zar, Teresa Farraiolo, Leigh Ann Higgins, John Nora, Molly Brouillette, Kelsey Marrujo, and Tatiana Merced-Zarou—thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything that you do, from untangling travel snafus to working endless hours on a campaign to suggesting brilliant edits to catching all of my inconsistencies and repetitive word choices in copyedits, and so much more. I love working with you all.
If anyone needs proof that art belongs in the hands of real, human artists, they can find it in the covers for Icon and Inferno and Stars and Smoke. Both are some of my all-time favorites, thanks to the incredible work of Aurora Parlagreco, Xiao Tong, and Jessica Cruickshank—what an honor it is to have your talent and creativity illuminating these books. Thank you so much for making them shine.
The relationship between writers and readers exists because of booksellers, librarians, teachers, and the countless people who strive to put books on shelves and in the hands of those who want and need them. Thank you so, so much for what you do, against all odds.
My deepest love and gratitude to my friends and family, for filling my life with joy. Most of all, to my husband, Primo Gallanosa, and to our little boy, who has changed us in the best of ways. It is such a privilege to walk through life with you both.
Of course, the reason I can do this at all is because of you. Thank you, my readers. There are truly no words to convey how grateful I am for all of you. Thank you for being here, for your kind words and support, and for your companionship. I hope I can share stories with you for a long time to come.
ALSO BY MARIE LU
The Legend Series
Legend
Prodigy
Champion
Rebel
The Young Elites Series
The Young Elites
The Rose Society
The Midnight Star
The Warcross Series
Warcross
Wildcard
Batman: Nightwalker
The Kingdown of Back
The Skyhunter Duology
Skyhunter
Steelstriker
The Stars and Smoke Series
Stars and Smoke
Icon and Inferno
About the Author
Marie Lu is the #1 New York Times–bestselling author of the Legend series, the Young Elites trilogy, the Warcross series, Batman: Nightwalker, The Kingdom of Back, the Skyhunter duology, and Stars and Smoke. She graduated from the University of Southern California and jumped into the video game industry, where she worked as an artist. Now a full-time writer, she spends her spare hours reading, drawing, and playing games. She lives in Los Angeles with her illustrator/author husband, Primo Gallanosa, and their son.
Visit her online at marielu.com, or sign up for email updates here.
@marieluthewriter
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
1. All Love Bears a Cost
2. The Calm Before the Reunion
3. Old Flames, New Fires
4. Just Another Job
5. Hidden Floors and Secrets
6. Bad Diplomacy
7. Impressions and Suspicions
8. Enemies in Plain Sight
9. An Unexpected Guest
10. Change of Plans
11. Haunted Pasts
12. Spiraling
13. Walking on a Blade
14. Traitors Always Stay Close
15. The Reason You Strive
16. An Ocean Between Two Hearts
17. A Halfway Love
18. The World Tilts
19. Enemies on All Sides
20. Nowhere to Run
21. On Your Own
22. Hiding in Plain Sight
23. Love on a Dead-End Street
24. Famous Enough to Hide
25. A Well of Secrets
26. Do Me a Favor, Sweetheart
27. Those Who Know Us Best
28. New Enemies and Allies
29. Predator and Prey
30. Walking a Tightrope
31. A Crack in the Heart
32. A Flight to Catch
33. Showdown
34. You Go, I Go
35. Keep Your Heart Open
36. Happiness in Yourself
37. Love Is Falling Anyway
Acknowledgments
Also by Marie Lu
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2024 by Xiwei Lu
Logos designed by YY Liak
Published by Roaring Brook Press
Roaring Brook Press is a division of Holtzbrinck Publishing Holdings Limited Partnership
120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271 • fiercereads.com
All rights reserved.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
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eISBN 9781250852922
First hardcover edition 2024
eBook edition June 2024
Marie Lu, Icon and Inferno
