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Come on, Earl. Knock it out of the park.
I glanced at the pedestal, then at the corpses floating at my feet. More bodies continued to rise, bumping into one another like sardines packed in a can. It wouldn’t be long until they were so close that I wouldn’t even be able to see the water.
If I waited, maybe I could use them as stepping stones….
Stop! Think about the game!
But it was too late.
“I wouldn’t try it.” Angelus watched me from the other side of the pool. “No Mortal can survive that water. You need the bridge to cross, and as you can see, it’s been removed. A security precaution.”
He held his hand in front of him, twisting the air into a current I could feel all the way across the water.
I had to brace myself to stay on my feet.
“You will not retrieve your page. You will die the same dishonorable death as your namesake. The death all Mortals deserve.”
“Why me, and why him? Why any of us? What did we ever do to you, Angelus?” I shouted at him over the wind.
“You are inferior, born without the gifts of Supernaturals. Forcing us to stay in hiding while your cities and schools fill with children who will grow to do nothing more than occupy space. You’ve turned our world into our prison.” The air picked up, and he twisted his hand further. “It’s absurd. Like building a city for rodents.”
I waited, picturing that stupid baseball game—Earl swinging, the crack of the bat—until the words formed, and I spoke them. “But you were born a Mortal. What does that make you?”
His eyes widened, his face a mask of pure rage. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” I turned my mind to the vision I’d seen, forcing myself to remember the faces, the words. Xavier, when he was just a Caster. Angelus, when he was just a man.
The wind increased, and I stumbled, the edge of my sneaker splashing at the edge of the pool of bodies. I braced myself, willing my feet not to slip.
Angelus’ face had turned even paler than before. “You know nothing! Look what you sacrificed—to save what? A town full of pathetic Mortals?”
I closed my eyes, letting the words find him.
I know you were born a Mortal. All those experiments can’t change that. I know your secret.
His eyes widened, hate raging across his face. “I am not a Mortal! I never was, and I never will be!”
I know your secret.
The wind picked up, and rocks flew again through the air—harder this time. I tried to shield my face as they pelted my ribs, smashing against the wall behind me. A trail of blood ran down my cheek.
“I will tear you to shreds, Wayward!”
I screamed over the din. “You may have powers, Angelus, but deep down, you’re still a Mortal, just like me.”
You can’t harness Dark forces like Sarafine and Abraham, or Travel like an Incubus. You can’t cross that water any more than I can.
“I am not Mortal!” he screamed.
Nobody can.
“Liar!”
Prove it.
There was a second, one terrible second, when Angelus and I stared across the water at each other.
Then, without a word, Angelus flung himself into the air, lunging across the corpses in the pool—as if he couldn’t contain himself a moment longer. That’s how desperate he was to prove he was better than me.
