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Dr. Bowes is stone-faced as she absorbs all of this. “You’re all fighting a battle beyond our comprehension, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer her. “Can I please see Brighton?”
She helps me out of bed, and I’m dizzy. I settle into the wheelchair she’s insisting I use. Good call. She guides me to another room four doors down.
Inside, Brighton is in bed with his eyes closed, but this isn’t some peaceful sleep. He’s the palest I’ve ever seen him. There are IVs injected into his arms, delivering clear, light blue and dark red fluids into his veins. There’s a ventilator helping him breathe, and it’s nicer than the one we had at home for Dad. I know that I should feel relieved, but it’s actually freaking me out that Brighton’s condition must be so severe that he needs the best equipment available.
I get out of the wheelchair, holding his hand and fighting back tears.
“He’s stable at the moment,” Dr. Bowes says.
“Our dad died from blood poisoning.”
“I’m aware,” Dr. Bowes says.
How much do strangers know about me? I feel uncomfortable, like cameras are following me everywhere I go.
“The hydra essence turned on him,” I say. “Won’t it kill Brighton too?”
“We’re working to purify the blood before an infection can spread, but considering there are three foreign essences working against his system, the chances of Brighton’s body failing are higher than most. But you all came to the right place; I’ve treated many specter aspirants before. You won’t believe how many people try to get powers without hiring an alchemist. It’s like when my husband tattooed himself as a teenager to save a buck. It didn’t turn out well.” Dr. Bowes looks sheepish as she realizes that she’s gone and made this about herself. “I promise I will do everything I can to make sure your brother goes home with you.”
She’s too confident. If Ma were here right now, she would go off on Dr. Bowes for not giving it to us straight.
I hope Brighton lives, even if it means reliving all the heartache we went through watching Dad in pain.
“How much time do you think he has?”
“It’s too early to tell, but I would prepare for a few months if we can’t successfully purify his blood.”
Months—and that’s if we’re extremely lucky. “What if we could cancel out the essences? Do you think that will stop his sickness?”
“It’s a popular theory, but no one has ever been able to eradicate a specter’s powers. Once creature blood is fused into a person, those abilities become as permanent as a celestial’s. Enforcers have means to temporarily dampen powers, of course, but even that takes considerable resources. I’m afraid that there is no known cure for specters presently.”
Brighton always says that something being unlikely doesn’t make it impossible. I hope I get to hear him say it again.
I squeeze his hand. There are no stars in the sky right now to pray to, but the moment they’re back I’m counting on each and every one of them to guide him back to health.
“Dr. Bowes, can you make sure your son won’t say anything about us being here? I want Brighton to get as much assistance from you and your team as possible. I’m happy to, I don’t know, autograph something for your son if we can count on some privacy.”
Dr. Bowes shakes her head. “That’s not necessary . . . but if you don’t mind, I’m sure it’ll make his day. He dreams of becoming a Spell Walker when he grows up.”
There should be concern in her voice, not pride. I don’t know what powers Dr. Bowes or her son have, but I hope he grows out of his Spell Walker hype before he finds himself in a battle that can kill him. Everything can change so quickly. Check out Brighton. One moment he was saving my life, and in the next, he was doing the unthinkable because staying on the sidelines wasn’t enough.
Nightmares may be terrifying, but dreams are dangerous.
Five
Iron Manor
NESS
It’s been a while since I’ve been in a town car.
Luna wasn’t comfortable with the Blood Casters traveling in packs unless we were protecting her or there was a very urgent reason. That way, if one of us got caught, the others could complete the mission. Stanton travels through sewers. Dione leaps from rooftop to rooftop. June teleports short distances, usually only appearing long enough for someone to wonder if they’re seeing things. And I always blended in on public transportation, an experience I was denied growing up because my fame was growing in political circles. But the Senator keeps his team together. Jax is driving, and Zenon is vision-hopping through the eyes of other drivers to determine the safest path, as well as to make sure we’re not being followed. The partition is down as the Senator and Bishop discuss the news that’s just come in about a brawl between the Spell Walkers and Blood Casters at a church.
“Which church?” the Senator asks Bishop, who’s reading the update off his tablet.
“The Alpha Church of New Life,” I say with a smirk, even though I know this isn’t good news.
