Page 197 of Storm Caller

“No,” I say, laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t let her make you something you’re not.”

“Then we’ll let the Veil come deal with her,” he says, pulling out a phone he’s acquired along the way from his pocket. He types rapidly and then shoves it back into his pants. “Okay?” I nod, and he steps back, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here. It’s time to go.”

“Rook, I can’t leave my mom. Before my dad died, he asked me to take care of her. Without him, she has no one . . .”

“Then bring her with us,” he says.

His tone is so matter-of-fact that I blink.

“Can I . . . do that?”

“Why not?”

I shake my head. “She won’t come.”

“So convince her, but do it fast.”

“Rook . . .”

“Poet,” he says, drawing me close and placing his hand on my cheek. “We have to leave. You are in more danger than ever. The chancellors know what you can do now, and they’ll try to connect you to their fucked-up little network, and you will be a prisoner forever.”

Tears fill my eyes. I know he’s right.

“I just thought . . . Domino and Journey.”

“I know,” he says. “And I hope we’ll see them again, but for now, this is the only way.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I just need you to be safe.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Go find your mom,” he says. “I’ll find Navy, Justin, and Edward. Meet me at the rock wall as soon as you have her. Pack a few things if you can.”

“And then what?”

He leans in and kisses me again, his arm banding around my waist as he tips me back and kisses me so hard that it steals the very breath from my lungs.

He pulls away and touches his forehead to mine.

“Then we’re going home.”

69

After we ensure Sol is taken into custody by the Veil, I make my way to Fiama Society Tower A. The sun is rising, making it easier to navigate the streets.

In the distance, I hear fighting coming from every direction, and smoke hangs in the air. Something must be on fire. I can’t worry about that now. Rook is right. I have to get out of here before the chancellors come looking for me.

I reach the building and head into the stairwell, making the arduous climb up. I’ve never been so thankful for all my cadet training.

I knock on the door, but no one answers. “Mom! It’s me!”

I bang a few more times, calling for her, contemplating the best way to break in if it comes to that.

Finally, the door pops open, revealing my mother in a nightgown, tears staining her cheeks.

“Poet!” she gasps, throwing her arms around me. “Skies, I’ve been so worried. I saw you on my phone, and you were so brave. So beautiful. Raine. I can’t . . . I can’t believe it . . .”

She’s rambling—a little hysterical, I think.

“Mom,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “I need you to focus. You’re coming with me.”