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“It’s definitely like ours,” Jason agreed, standing again. “Have you developed any powers?” he quietly asked me.

I shook my head.

“I have no idea how she got it,” Jason finally concluded, his brow furrowed. “But it’s like ours. Or close enough, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Scout said, “but you nailed it—there’s something different about hers, isn’t there? The edges are fuzzier. Like a tattoo, but the ink bled.”

“What could that mean, Green?” Katie asked.

She shrugged. “I have no clue.”

“Research is your field,” Smith reminded her. “There’s nothing in the Grimoire?”

“Not that I could find, and I checked the index for every entry I could think of.” I assumed the Grimoire was the giant leather-bound book she’d skimmed through before deciding to notify the elders.

Smith raised his gaze to me. “I understand that you’ve been provided with the basics about our enclave, our struggle, our gifts.”

I nodded.

“And you’re sure you haven’t . . . become aware of any powers since you were hit?”

“I’d remember,” I assured him.

“Maybe this is just a symbol of the fact that she was hit?” Jason suggested, frowning, head tilted as he gazed at my back. “Like, I don’t know, a stamp of the shot she took?”

“I really don’t know,” Scout said quietly.

Their conversations got quieter, like scientists mumbling as they considered a prime specimen. I stared at the wall at the other end of the room while they whispered behind me and tried to figure out who—or what—I’d become.

Eventually, Smith straightened and, like obedient pups, the rest of the group followed suit and spread out again. I pulled my shirt back down and turned to face them.

Smith shook his head. “All we know is that she’s marked. It might not be a darkening. Anything else is just speculation.”

“Speculation?” Paul asked. “She’s got a darkening, just like ours.”

“Not exactly like ours,” Katie reminded him.

I watched Michael struggle to keep his expression neutral. “Enough like ours,” he countered, “to make it evident that she’s like us. That she’s one of us.”

Katie shook her head. “You’re missing the point. She’s already told us she doesn’t have skills, magic, power. Nothing but a fancy bruise.” As if to confirm that suspicion, she turned her green-eyed gaze on me. “She’s not one of us.”

“A fancy bruise?” Scout repeated. “You’re kidding, right?”

Katie shrugged, the movement and her expression condescending. “I’m just saying.”

“Hey,” Smith said, apparently deciding to intervene. “Let it go. It’s better for her, anyway. Hanging out down here isn’t fun and games. This job is dangerous, it’s hard, and it’s exhausting. This might feel like rejection. It’s actually luck.”

The room went quiet. When Scout spoke again, her voice was soft, but earnest.

“I know my place,” she said, “and we all know this isn’t the easiest job in the world. But if she’s one of us, if she’s part of us, she needs to know. We need to know.”

“There’s no evidence that she’s one of us, Scout,” Smith said. “A mark isn’t enough. A mark won’t stop Reapers, and it won’t save regulars, and it won’t help us. This isn’t up for debate. You bring me some evidence—real evidence—that it’s a darkening, and we’ll talk about it again.”

I could feel Scout’s frustration, could see it in the stiffness in her shoulders. She looked at her colleagues.

“Paul? Jamie? Jill? Jason?” When she met Michael’s gaze, her expression softened. “Michael?”

He looked down for a moment, considering, then up at her again. “I’m sorry, Scout, but I’m with Smith on this one. She’s not like us. She wasn’t made the way we were. She wasn’t born with power, and the only reason she has a mark is because she got hit. If we let her in anyway, if we play devil’s advocate, she takes our attention away from everything else we have to deal with. We can’t afford that right now.”

“Her being damaged isn’t reason enough,” Katie put in.

I arched an eyebrow. Scout may have had to play nice for hierarchy reasons, but I (obviously) wasn’t part of this group.

“I am not damaged,” I said. “I’m a bystander who got wrapped up in something I didn’t want to be wrapped up in because you couldn’t keep the bad guys in hand.”

“The point is,” Smith said, “you weren’t born like us. The only thing you’ve got right now is a symbol of nothing.”

“There’s no need to be harsh,” Michael said. “It’s not like she got branded on purpose.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The room went silent, all eyes on Katie.

“Are you suggesting,” Scout bit out, “that she faked the darkening?”

Katie gazed at her with unapologetic snarkiness. This girl had college brat pack written all over her.

“So much for ‘all for one and one for all,’ ” Scout muttered. “I can’t believe you’d suspect that a person who’d never seen a darkening before faked having one forty-eight hours after she was put in the hospital because she took a full-on dose of firespell and managed to survive it. And you know what’s worse? I can’t believe you’d doubt me.” She pressed a finger into her chest. “Me.”

The JV Adepts shared heavy looks.

“Regulars put us all at risk. They raise our profile, they get in the way, they serve as distractions.” Jason lifted his chin, and eyes of sea blue stared out. He gazed at me, anger in his eyes. My slight at the mall must have hurt more than I’d thought.

“Until we know more, she’s a regular, and that’s all she is. No offense,” he added, his gaze on me.

“None taken,” I lied back to him.

“We have other business to discuss,” Smith said. “Escort her home.”

“That’s it?” Scout’s voice contained equal parts desperation and frustration.

“Bring us something we can use,” Smith said. “Someone we can use, and we’ll talk.”

Scout offered a sarcastic salute. “Let’s go,” she said to me, her hand on my arm, leading me away as the group turned inward to begin their next plan.

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