“What did I do to her?” asked Zander, indicating to Marcy with a jut of his chin.

  “I’m pretty sure our disappearing act was a shitty friend move.” I didn’t want to linger on the drama of time travel. “She’s probably taking it out on you because you’re the only one she can.”

  “Do you even celebrate birthdays at this point?”

  Her voice hit me like a spaceship in warp. Agent James-freaking-Felling stood in my parents’ living room with a red solo cup in hand, her smile so radiant I’m sure it would have ignited a sun when combined with Blayde’s. My relief at seeing her instantly undid all those frustrating gut knots. Unless...was she here because of the fire?

  Blayde picked her up and swung her around by the waist. “You came!” she squealed, and James looked about as excited as one could be when sprung into a sudden bout of dizziness.

  “Of course I came. Now put me down before I barf all over you.”

  Blayde plopped her down.

  “It’s good to see you, Agent.” Zander shook James’s hand. “Sorry for being incommunicado.”

  “You have a lot of explaining to do.” James’s jaw clenched. “Hal and Laurie invited me tonight. And yes, we’re on a first-name basis now, seeing as how I spent the better part of the past three years trying to reassure them you were coming back.”

  I took a breath. My parents had invited her here. Nothing to do with SHC. Still, I dropped my eyes to the ground. James was far less passive aggressive when I’d left her.

  “Oh, hey, James,” said Marcy, joining our little circle of confusion just as Blayde ducked out. “How was Cancun?”

  “You two know each other?” With all this sputtering and stammering, I was probably getting spittle all over everyone. I guess this was why they called them surprise parties; I was jolted into different states of shock every few words.

  “She set up the group text after you three vanished,” said Dany. “She even named our cat.”

  “You have a cat now?”

  “Oh, lovely. This is the girl from the Cross case, isn’t it? Good god, Felling, what is wrong with you?”

  The stranger who had appeared at James’s side was the dictionary definition of beautiful, with angelic waves of golden hair framing a factory-fresh face. She was a whole head taller than James and wore heels with the grace of a ballerina.

  “It’s a long story,” she replied. Then, turning to me, “Sally, meet Perenelle Johansen, my new partner. Perry, meet Sally Webber.”

  We shook hands, though the corners of the woman’s lips failed to rise to even the fakest of smiles.

  “Perenelle, what a lovely name,” I said.

  “Sure.” She gave me such a dismissive look that my anxiety immediately rose a few octaves before she turned back to James. “Felling, I can’t believe you. Does that mean the case down here is a bunch of hogwash?”

  “Well, I might have exaggerated the authenticity of the source, but I’m still looking into it. Call this night a... social detour.”

  “So, the astronomer who spotted strange lights over Tampa Bay—”

  “Is less of an astronomer and more of a... podcaster?”

  “I can’t believe this.” Johansen looked like she was about to be sick.

  I suppose I might be, too, if I had been expecting a lead and ended up at a surprise party for an ex-con. The latter held out a hand to shake hers.

  “I would say nice to meet you, but I thought we’d closed the Cross case and your change of circumstance has put me in a tight place.”

  “Alexander Smith. Pleasure,” said Zander. She ripped her hand back from their handshake, stuffing it in her pocket. “Trust me, my life isn’t as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it seem. Look, I hope you don’t mind me stealing James for one minute?”

  “You know what? Yes, let’s all go outside and clear some things up,” said Marcy, grabbing Dany by the hand. “You. Me. Outside. James, you’re free to join.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “No, you stay here, dear. Turn the music up loud.”

  Now I was alone with Johansen. Lovely. I would much rather be outside attending the small screaming match than with this stranger. She gingerly rubbed the raw, red skin of her hand, frowning.

  “Do you need some cream for that?” I tried to show the hospitality that was expected of me. Be the bigger woman, Sally Webber.

  “No, I’m fine, thank you. Just eczema.”

  “Who’s this?” Blayde asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere again. Always there when I needed her to defuse a situation, thank goodness.

  I was tired of making so many introductions, but at least her name was fun to say. “Blayde meet Perenelle Johansen, James’s new partner.”

  “So that’s what you’re calling yourself now?” Blayde let out a razor-sharp laugh. “Wow. And don’t think I didn’t see your hand. Felling has the absolute worst luck.”

  “Blayde, stop this,” I said.

  “Look at her palm. I mean, seriously, look at it.”

  “Eczema. So?”

  “You’re such an Earthling. Have you learned nothing from Zander or me?” She held up a saltshaker. “Well, thank your mom for putting salt on the table, and thank Zander for not being an idiot when meeting the new partner of a friend who’s already been conned by an Agency agent.”

  All that was left of Johansen was the wind from her dashing outside, Blayde at her heels, the back door slamming shut in their wake.

  Skin wraps. I swore under my breath. Whatever they’re made of couldn’t handle concentrated sodium chloride. Which meant whoever I was just speaking with wasn’t even human.

  Shit. How long had she been assigned to James?

  I rushed outside to the dark beach, where Blayde had Johansen pinned down in the sand under the porchlight. I made a beeline for them before realizing we weren’t alone. Oh no. Zander’s chastising team was frozen mid-shout, Marcy’s tiny first grabbing his shirt so tightly I thought she was going to rip it right off him. Dany was struggling to hold her back, and James—well, James was the only one who had moved from the tableau, sprinting across the beach toward her partner.

  “What the hell, Blayde?” she shouted.

  “She’s Agency.” Blayde’s face was as neutral as Switzerland as she flipped Johansen over. “Come on, I thought Zander was telling you.”

  “I was getting to that!” Zander turned to Marcy. “Seriously, I was getting to that part. You see? Despite what you think, I do care about your feelings. I just wanted you to get your catharsis first.”

  “Stop trying to be everyone’s bestie and help me hold her down,” Blayde ordered. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

  Zander grabbed Johansen's other arm. Between the two of them, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Oh, come on!” James screamed. “This can’t be happening. Not again. I had been so careful. Who even are you?”

  “I’m Perenelle.” She flailed in the siblings’ grasp. “It’s Perry! Help me!”

  “Who are you, really?” Zander grabbed her hair and started to drag her down the beach. Marcy let out a small gasp from behind us.

  Marcy was watching this.

  In that instant, my reality shattered. I could never keep these two parts of my life separate anymore. Marcy had seen—she had actually seen—the other side of Zander. My mind spun into overdrive trying to figure out how to twist this, but it quickly overheated and threw up some interesting warning signs.

  “You know where I’m taking you?” he said. “An ocean full of water—and salt.”

  Johansen squirmed harder, like an octopus seeing its name on a menu. She lifted her hands and tried to pry his fingers from her hair, but he wasn’t giving even an inch.

  “James,” she begged. “Help me!”

  She started to cry, full jet-powered sprinklers. Marcy raced past me, and I instinctively grabbed the back of her dress.

  “Let go of me!” she spat. “What are you doing? He’s hurting her!”

  “He’s not!” Was it a lie? I didn’t know. Johansen was full-on sobbing and thrashing in Zander’s grasp, and I almost believed Marcy.

  “Think of it,” Zander continued, drawing Johansen ever closer to the sea. “Salt—that pain that was on your hand for a second, but burning your every pore, in your mouth and nose. Imagine as it hits your lungs, as your every breath begins to burn...”

  I drew back. This was a side of Zander I never wanted to see, no matter how necessary. I had to keep convincing myself this was just an act, that he wouldn’t really torture—

  “Let go of me, Sally!” Marcy struggled to pull free, but I was so much stronger now. Effort was a tiny sting in the depths of my mind. “Dany! Help me stop him!”

  But Dany wasn’t coming. Dany’s feet were planted on the beach, the perfect rendering of a tree.

  “Last chance,” said Zander, stopping at the edge of the water. “Tell us who you’re working for, and maybe I won’t hold you down under the waves.”

  “James?” Johansen pleaded.

  “Identity theft is not a joke, Perry,” said James. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I take that personally.”

  Johansen sighed, leaning into Zander’s grasp, and gave him a dry half-smile. “Have we come to this? You know me better than that, Zander. You wouldn’t hurt me. Not silly old me.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” he growled. “I don’t know you.”

  “You sure? Look into my eyes and see for yourself. They say the eyes are the only real thing of yourself that can be seen through the wrap. I wonder if that’s true?”

  He stared into her eyes as she scowled back, moving closer, until the glare turned to confusion then comprehension, then confusion yet again, his brows swinging together and apart like a ballet about forbidden romance.

  “Foollegg?”

  “Looky here, the Sand’s got a brain after all.” She smiled. “Good to see you, too, Zander.”

  Foollegg. The director of the Agency, the one who had threatened my family, who had forced us into hiding. My breath caught in my throat. It was meant to be over with her the moment we got our pardon, yet she was here—as James’ partner. If she was here...

  The fire. We’d been set up. The Alliance must have wanted an excuse to arrest us, used the Agency to frame us for the crime.

  In my shock, I let go of Marcy, and she flew at Zander in a fit of rage-induced justice or justice-induced rage. Zander let go of Foollegg, who sprang to her feet just in time for Marcy to collide headfirst into her. This, of course, sent Foollegg and Marcy crashing into the sea, only for Zander to dive in between them and the waves. The three of them tumbled into the spray, screaming a whole universe of obscenities.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” shouted Marcy, swinging a fist at Zander, who dodged out of the way while her momentum sent her sprawling.

  Foollegg was busy pulling herself from the water, clutching her now-dissolving face as her skin wrap melted in the sea. She took a step onto the shore and wrung out her shirt, her human chin giving way to pearlescent skin.

  “Well, that’s one way to say hello.” She wiped off gobs of melted silicone-like goop with a flick of her hand. Where had they stored her serpentine neck? “Well, hello there, Miss Webber. So lovely to see you again.”

  I thought Dany might try to intervene, but Marcy was holding her own—Zander wasn’t exactly fighting back—and she was letting everything happen, just standing there. This left Blayde and James and me to alternate between watching the fistfight between my best friend and boyfriend in the waves and the goop running down Foollegg’s face. James hadn’t yet picked her jaw up off the floor, and Blayde, well, she was happier than I’d seen her in ages, watching the beach fight the way I might watch a puppy parade.

  Okay, so I was the only one who was going to make conversation with Agent Melty Face. Lovely.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I see someone has been demoted to Earth duty.”

  “All thanks to you,” she glowered, staring at Blayde, James, and me in turn as if we were insolent children that she was intent on disciplining. “You disappeared on my watch. Mine. So I get pinned up with James ‘Juxley’ Felling here. It’s almost embarrassing, but then I remember that it’s better than having been the-woman-who-had-the-Iron-and-the-Sand-for-a-minute-and-let-them-go running the Agency.”

  “Juxley? Who the hell is Juxley?” asked James.

  “It’s from a show,” said Blayde. “I don’t think you’d like it.”

  Foollegg was starting to look like herself again. The long, spindly neck neatly unfurled from the constrained human one, large doe eyes waiting patiently under the small European ones, taking their turn to shine.

  James gasped, finally out of her state of shock. “Who—who are you?”

  “Right, introductions,” Blayde said. “James, meet Foollegg, former head honcho of the Earth Agency. Foollegg, I take it you were assigned as her partner in hopes of catching us?”

  “You say that like it’s a dumb idea,” said the agent. “But look at me, I caught the terrorists who assassinated President Straiddies.”

  If I had been drinking a glass of water, I would have done a spit-take. “We did what?”

  From behind us, Dany’s voice rose above the fray. “Father is dead?”

  The fighting in the sea stopped in an instant. Marcy pinned down Zander in the waves with a kick of her heel, spinning toward Dany. Dany, who was closer than ever. Dany, who stared at Foollegg not with surprise, but with heartbreak. Dany, who Foollegg was now bowing to.

  “My—” Foollegg started, but Marcy was up the beach in a flash, rushing for Dany.

  “The Alliance knows!” Marcy screamed. “Run, darling, run!”

  But it was too late. The only person who would have liked the next part would have been my dad, had he been watching. He does love a good tractor beam.

  Chapter Two

  Can’t the UN Handle Interstellar Diplomacy for Once?

  Fun fact about tractor beams: When the technician manning it is in a rush and doesn’t have it fine-tuned, it picks up everything—and I mean everything—in its field. So, if you’re lifted from the beach, you’re basically in a tornado of sand and saltwater until they finish reeling you in.

  “Frash this!” Blayde spat as she swung around in the air, thwacking me in the shins, while some very confused crabs pinched whatever skin they could find for dear life. “Who’s the asshole with the ship?”

  “Stay calm,” said Foollegg, drifting up along with us. “This will all be over soon.”

  Stay calm? There were so many things to not be calm about right now. A cashier burst into flames, the Alliance thought we killed their president, and perhaps the most terrifying point: Marcy knew about the Alliance.

  Oh, and Dany calling dead-president-emperor-dude her father?

  All these thoughts swirled in my mind as I tried to avoid the swirling outside it. Partly because I didn’t want to get dizzy—and, as a result, nauseous, making the sand-sea tornado a sand-sea-sick tornado—but also because hello, I’m still not a fan of heights in general. The mind-swirling was thankfully a good distraction from the distance of death beneath me.

  Yes, I know I’m not going to die from great falls anymore, but that anxious part of my brain wasn’t gone yet. Cut me some slack.

  The beam’s brightness intensified until it was blinding. It then promptly shut off, dropping us unceremoniously on the floor of a cargo bay. The accidentally abducted crabs skittered in all directions. With all the white walls and borderline lens flares from every light, it was easy to know who’d taken us. The Alliance.

  Marcy’s voice filled the hold. “Step back, all of you!”

  She clung to the sharp heel of her once fabulous shoe, wielding it like a dagger. I was still trying to pull myself up onto my feet while she was already on hers, barefoot and weaponized, putting me to shame. It couldn’t be her first rodeo with them.

  What the hell, Marcy? I wanted to scream. Where was Felling? And why weren’t the siblings doing anything? I was waiting for their signal, but they were completely still.

  “Put the heel down,” said Foollegg. “No harm will come to you.”

  “Screw you,” Marcy spat. “Put us back on the beach. You want the Iron and the Sand, not us. We’ve done nothing to bring attention or harm to the Alliance.”

  “It’s ok, Dove,” said Dany, placing a gentle hand on her wife’s shoulder. “If Father really is dead...”

  Father. The president-emperor of the Alliance was Dany’s father. How had I not seen this before? The way we’d met, with her bursting into Marcy’s party ranting about bodyguards, those mercenaries talking about the lost prince...

  “Then they shouldn’t be hunting you.” Marcy kept her eyes on Foollegg. “Let me, my wife, and Sally go unharmed. We won’t be trouble. I swear.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Foollegg. She stood to her full height now, towering over all of us with her head-on-a-stilt. When her gaze landed on Dany, her eyes glazed over, soft and gentle and adoring. “We thought you were dead, my prince—” Dany winced. Marcy clutched her hand, rubbing her arm with the other. “—princess, sorry. No. Empress.”

  “Not your frashing empress.” Dany spat on the floor. Marcy frowned. “Eww. I know we’re on an enemy spaceship, dear, but the janitorial staff shouldn’t be punished for it.”

  “Well, this reunion is beautiful and all, but we need to bounce,” said Blayde, one hand extended for me, the other already gripping Zander’s. He was reaching for Marcy, but she kept swatting him away. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but you’ve basically crashed our party, and I’d like to go back before all the chicken is gone.”

  “Not this again,” said Foollegg. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

  Without hesitation, she whipped out a pistol and shot each of the siblings in the head. No jumping away when you’re dead.