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“My parents died for that century phoenix, to make sure she could live and never be used,” Tala says, and turns to Brighton. “Then you stole her essence for your own gain.”

He really should dash downstairs and get far away. “Better me than Luna. I’ll avenge Gravesend with her powers.”

“Gravesend was supposed to have her own lives, her own futures!”

Tala crouches behind a bush of lilies and when she rises she’s aiming a crossbow at us. Maribelle shouts at her to stop, but it’s too late. An arrow flies toward Brighton, and he dashes out of the way and almost tumbles over the roof’s ledge. Prudencia telekinetically snatches the crossbow away from Tala and holds it close to her chest.

“Roxana, strike!”

The phoenix stands on its black talons and fires a lightning bolt toward Prudencia. I don’t think she’s going to be strong enough to deflect the light howler and thankfully Brighton dash-tackles her out of the way. The lightning bolt strikes the ground and the aftershock blasts me across the roof and I roll toward a small pool. My hearing is buzzy, but I think I can make out Maribelle shouting for Tala to stop. But maybe Tala can’t hear either because she leaps straight at Brighton. He runs circles around her and Tala holds out one leg and immediately trips him.

Even if I could use my powers, I wouldn’t dare use them against Tala, a Halo Knight who does honorable work for phoenixes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her try to beat my brother to death. I fight past all dizziness as I charge straight toward her, but Tala grabs me by the arm and flips me over her shoulder. She goes back and forth between punching me and Brighton, but her glare becomes deadlier.

“You started this,” Tala says. “You’re the first specter. The Blood Casters exist because of you!”

I’m trying to get my words out, but Tala’s blows don’t stop. My body is trying to heal itself, but new wounds keep coming, more blood keeps spilling. It’s possible Tala might kill me before my healing power can save me.

I wonder who I’ll be in my next life.

Before her next hit can collide, Maribelle wraps her arms around Tala and carries her into the air, demanding that she put an end to this.

I try catching my breath to ask Brighton if he’s okay, but my power keeps involuntarily trying to heal me and I can’t stop it. I have to endure the pain. Prudencia grabs my hand and I squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. For the first time in my life I feel like my grip might be strong enough to break someone’s bones. Once the burn subsides, Prudencia fully turns her attention to Brighton, who isn’t self-healing. There is pink and red bruising around his right eye that’s closed shut. I wonder how he feels about being more trusting to strangers now that he’s groaning in pain.

Commotion above catches my attention and Tala wrestles out of Maribelle’s grip and drops down onto the rooftop. She sh

oulder rolls toward her crossbow and aims it at my chest. I don’t have it in me to move. I close my eyes and wait.

“Tala, don’t!” a guy shouts in an English accent.

I’m covered in shadows of massive wings and for a delirious moment I wonder if there’s a British phoenix that speaks with the ease of humans like my favorite childhood cartoon. But of course that’s nonsense. I look up to see who saved my life and there’s a pale guy with brown hair riding what has to be an obsidian phoenix judging by its glittering black feathers. The guy is wearing a leather jacket with feathered sleeves as black as the phoenix—another Halo Knight.

The obsidian lands smoothly on the rooftop and if I wasn’t already intimidated by the sheer size of this phoenix, a whole foot taller than the light howler, I fully tense up as those dark eyes that look hollowed out of its face stare at me. The Halo Knight dismounts and there’s a dirty white satchel hanging from his broad shoulder. From what I can make out underneath his open jacket, his white shirt is pressed tight against his pecs. He extends his cautious hand toward Tala as he approaches me.

“Why are you following me, Wyatt?” Tala asks.

“You’re my friend—and because Crest said he’d increase my book budget if Nox and I tracked you down.” Wyatt offers Tala a dimpled smile that doesn’t win her over. “You know Nox; he loves a hunt.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly.” Wyatt gestures at me and Brighton. He helps me up with his sweaty hands and we seem to be the exact same height judging by how I’m able to stare straight into his eyes, which are as blue as Brighton’s flames. Between the patchy stubble arching along his jawline and the smell of cedarwood, it’s as if Wyatt has been hiking in the wilderness for days. There are three thin scars down the side of his neck, possibly from a phoenix, but too small to come from Nox. He wraps my arm around his muscular shoulders and guides me to the stone bench to rest.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” Tala asks.

“Emil and Brighton Rey—the self-proclaimed Infinity Kings.” Wyatt knows who we are. Time will tell if that’s good or not. “Pardon me, darling, but I’m not familiar with you,” he says to Prudencia.

“A friend,” Prudencia says.

“Well, hello, friend.” Wyatt turns to Maribelle with a hand on his heart. “You’re Maribelle Lucero. My condolences. May Atlas’s winds blow again in another life.”

Tala allows his sympathy to sink in for a moment before pointing her finger at me. “Wyatt, that isn’t just Emil Rey—he was also Bautista de León and Keon Máximo. Everything we have feared about phoenix specters is true. They can be reborn and he’s the mastermind behind it all!”

I brace myself for Wyatt’s kindness to shift to violence but he’s still as a statue.

“I was reborn into this, but I don’t have any of Bautista’s or Keon’s memories. I swear I’m my own person and I don’t want to be a specter. I have a journal that belonged to Maribelle’s parents, Bautista and Sera, and I’m trying to complete their work on a power-binding potion. I want this cycle to end with me.”

“Wait one second.” Wyatt looks between me and Maribelle. “Maribelle, I thought your parents were two of the Spell Walkers that died during the Blackout. And Emil, you look nothing like Bautista or Keon but you’re somehow Maribelle’s father?”

“Bautista and Sera are my biological parents, but Aurora and Lestor Lucero raised me. Emil isn’t my father,” Maribelle says.

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