“How didyour gift first manifest, and how has it evolved since then?” Bash asks Aurora from where he sits in one of his swivel chairs, his light-blue eyes studying her with scientific curiosity.
After briefly filling Bash in on our mission, Cade and Malachi went to speak with Dante and whoever else they decide to bring into our small circle, leaving us to work through a few things with Bash.
His lab looks exactly the same—all white and pristine, filled with machines and equipment that I have no idea how to operate. Hell, I can’t even fathom what half of it does. Bash looks the same too, only tired, like he’s been pulling all-nighters. I’ve never seen him in glasses before either, but he’s wearing a pair now. Not sure if they’re to see better or for protection.
The sterile environment feels oddly comforting after everything we’ve been through, like stepping into a world where logic and science might actually provide help for this mission.
“It started when I was about ten,” Aurora begins, her eyes taking on a distant look. “I used to be really good at maintainingmy body heat, like I could play in the freezing cold for hours in a T-shirt while other kids were bundled up in coats. Everyone thought I was resilient.”
She glances over at me, then back to Bash, and I can see something shifting in her expression, like she’s deciding how much to reveal.
“Over the years, my gift has strengthened and expanded exponentially.” She holds up her hand, and I watch in fascination as her palm begins to glow with a soft-orange light. “I can heat anything I touch to extreme temperatures now—metal, stone, even water.”
The glow intensifies, and I can feel the heat radiating from across the room. “But that’s not all. I can create fire with my hands, manipulate existing flames, and even…” She looks away.
“Even what?” Bash leans forward, his wavy hair pristine on top of his head despite the bags under his eyes, his scientific excitement bursting through.
Aurora’s eyes meet mine, then she extends her other hand toward an empty metal tray on the counter. Without touching it, the tray begins to smoke, then glow red hot, warping as the metal reaches its melting point.
“I can project heat at a distance now. And when I’m really focused, really angry…” She closes her fist, and the tray bursts into brilliant white flames that dance without fuel. “I can make things combust without even touching them.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re basically a human flamethrower. I would take wielding fire over playing with the dead any day,” I say, and she laughs.
“Bash, where’s Freddy?” Aurora asks, drawing his gaze back up from where he’s furiously typing notes on his computer.
“Oh, he wanted a change of scenery, I guess. Irina was down here offering positions in other districts, and hejumped on it.” Bash shrugs, but there’s something in his tone that suggests it wasn’t entirely Freddy’s choice.
Aurora frowns at this news but doesn’t ask any follow-up questions, though I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“I heard it’s a skeleton crew here right now,” I say, leaning forward in my chair. “What Avids are left?”
I’m mentally trying to calculate if any of the remaining team members could be useful on our mission and more importantly if any of them can be trusted. After last night’s betrayal, we all need to be on high alert.
“Several remained behind, but only two I think will be right for this job, and they both happen to be here today training.” Bash adjusts his glasses, looking pleased with himself.
Two is better than none, I suppose.
“Who are they? What can they do?” Aurora chimes in from where she leans against the wall, absently bending a paperclip between her fingers with enough heat to make it glow faintly red.
“You both might have met them before, Alex and Nasha. They’re brother and sister.”
“Oh yeah, the first time Malachi brought me down here, I remember Rain saying she thought they were ready to join one of Solace’s teams, but I never actually met them,” I say, the memory clicking into place.
Aurora perks up. “Does that mean they can fight?”
Bash nods, looking between us with growing excitement. “Yes, they can fight, and they’ve been chomping at the bit to go on a mission. This would be their first real job though.”
He swivels his chair back to his desk and types something into his computer. Four crystal-clear screens light up above his workspace, displaying photographs and detailed assessment notes in neat, clinical formatting.
“What are their gifts?” I ask, sliding my chair closer andsquinting up at the monitors, trying to make sense of the data streaming across the displays.
“Nasha can transfer injuries or pain to others,” Bash says, pointing up at the screen displaying a young woman who looks to be in her mid-twenties. She has bronze skin and long black hair, but it’s her eyes that make me pause. They’re an impossible shade of lavender that seems otherworldly, mesmerizing, and fierce at the same time.
“Interesting gift. I’d like to see what she can do with it,” Aurora says, settling into one of the chairs next to me.
“Oh, I’ve studied her abilities extensively, as you can see here in my notes.” He points to one of the bottom screens, and I quickly scan through some of the bullet points displayed in neat, clinical text. She can transfer injuries from allies to enemies through touch, but every wound has to pass through her body first—meaning she feels everything. The psychological profile warns of god-complex tendencies from choosing who suffers and who heals. No wonder this ability is so rare.
“Wow,” I murmur, reading through the implications, “I’ve never heard of a gift like this. It’s useful but also deeply disturbing.”
