Burn
Author: T.J. Klune
Date: 2012-02-06T08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: M M Romance; Fantasy; Paranormal; Romance; Urban Fantasy; Lgbt; Science Fiction; Magic; Paranormal Romance; Gay
Description: Set in a world that closely resembles our own, Burn is a story of redemption and betrayal, of family and sacrifice, which leads to the greatest question of all: how far would you go to save the ones you love? Fifteen years ago, Felix Paracel killed his mother with fire that shot from his hands. Since then, he has hidden from forces bent on exploiting him and his fire and wind Elemental abilities. But Felix’s world is about to change, because he is Findo Unum—the Split One—and his coming has been foretold for generations. Though Felix’s arrival brings great joy to the Elemental world, it also h

Copyright

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

382 NE 191st Street #88329

Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Burn

Copyright © 2012 by TJ Klune

Cover Art by Catt Ford

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

ISBN: 978-1-61372-355-5

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

February 2012

eBook edition available
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-356-2

For my sister Tori.

Here’s to your comma-induced rage.

I will burn, but this is a mere event.

—Michael Servetus

Prologue

A child is not a vase to be filled but a fire to be lit.

—Rabelais

MY NAME is Felix Paracel, and when I was nine, I became angry at my mother and killed her with fire that shot from my hands.

At this, the beginning of my story, you must understand one thing: I had no control over it. Call it a fight-or-flight reaction, call it an egregious upwelling of adolescent fear, call it the result of the chemical cocktail that was my being finally breaking free from the confines of itself; I don’t know. Looking back, I don’t know that the reason matters. What’s done is done and can’t be undone, as my father likes to say. But I would have you know that for all that is to follow, for everything that will happen, it all started with a child who was unable to control the conflagration burning within him. I would have you know this, at the very least.

The day things changed was one like any one before it. I was home alone with my mother, as was often the case. It was a dusky day in June, and the world seemed such a mighty place, what with the imagination that a child can summon. It’s funny, really: the older you get, the more you know about the world. The synapses in your brain fire at a higher level and quicker function, your knowledge expands. But you lose part of yourself, that part able to imagine great armies that wait for nothing more than your command; the dragon that hides under your bed that only you can see, its long emerald tail flashing in the darkness; the ghost that lives in your attic that only moans at 3:23 in the morning. When you lose that innocence, the world’s hues become dark and muted, and you know that dragons aren’t real. There is no army. There is no ghost in the attic. But when you’re nine? When you’re nine, it’s all probable, it’s all realistic, and even more so, it’s all true. But sometimes it’s possible to lose it all, even then.

“Keep your chin up and eyes forward,” my mother said. “Look straight ahead and focus.”

We were in the middle of one of my lessons. These sessions always took place when we were alone, away from the prying eyes that she said wouldn’t understand. I was never allowed to speak of these lessons, never so much as to breathe a word of it to anyone for fear of her retribution. She told me if anyone found out about what we did, I would be taken away from my parents, I would be locked up and tested on with needles and machines that whirred like the gasps of a metal monster. I would never again see the light of day. My imagination was able to see this clearly, so you can bet your ass I never said anything. To anyone.

“Close your eyes,” she said, “and take a deep breath and focus. Find the space within you, the space where it lives and breathes. Can you find it, Felix? Is it there?”

I nodded, not just meaning to please her, but because I’d actually found it. It was there, in that space. It was becoming easier every day.

I could hear the smile in her voice. “Good. Good. Now, I want you to grasp it gently, and hold it, and feel your hands warm. They won’t burn because it is your fire and you can never be hurt by it.”

Behind the darkness of my eyes, I could see the flare and a tenuous connection was made as my fingers slid around it. It began to coil around my hands, licking my palms, heating my core. My mother was still speaking, her voice low and masculine, but the words were a blur, a haze heard through a filter of smoke. My grip tightened and my world became brighter, a flash in the oily blackness. The burnt afterimage that imprinted on my retinas danced and flitted its way lower and lower until it became my hands, until it became my fire.

I opened my eyes.

Only then (as it always seemed to happen) did I feel the strength of it. My young brain might not have been able to grasp the full implications of what I held, but I understood the idea of it. It was magic, it was imagination, it was something that I could create, something that belonged to me. My mother looked down at my hands, her lips pursed together in a thin line that slashed across her face. Her eyes were alight with what I could only hope was fierce pride. She waited. I waited. This was part of my lesson. This was a test. A bead of sweat caught on the hairs on the back of my neck, quivering until it fell down the collar of my shirt and became absorbed in the fabric. I didn’t know how much longer I could last. My hands rose up in front of my face, my palms raised toward the ceiling. And still she waited. I started to shake.

She nodded. “Now,” she said.

And with that word (oh God, how I waited for her to say it), I flexed something deep within me, squeezing a muscle in my chest, my hands, my core. That constriction pushed it to the surface, and as always, I was outside of myself, watching it happen. I saw a little boy, his teeth gritted together, his blond hair hanging around his bowed head. His hazel eyes flashed, then burned. His little veins rose on his little arms, his hands like claws. He put his left foot back and crouched slightly, his knees cracking with the sudden movement. And then, as always (and forever) I was slammed back into me and the fire came.

It started as a small blossom in the center of my hands, oozing from between the life and fate lines on my palms. I urged it forward, wanting it out of me, to put it on display. I coaxed and pleaded as it grew. It began to swirl, and I could feel the room take on heat. Somewhere, a light flickered and a buzzing began to ring through my ears. There was never any pain, only a feeling of release that felt as natural as exhaling. This is mine, I thought. I created this, and I can do it anytime I want. I pushed harder, and the flames suddenly roared out of me, rising five or six feet in the air.

“Felix.” My mother’s voice a whip-crack of warning.

I resented her then, if only for a moment. Who was she to tell me when to stop? But I obeyed her singular admonishment and flexed again, only this time pulling it back. The roar lessened as the fire dropped until it was the size of a blood orange in each of my hands. I eased back up from my crouched stance and felt the control slowly return. I moved my hands back and forth slowly, watching as the fire followed my every motion. The shakes were gone, the tiny voice in the back of my head silenced.

“Good,” my mother said. And then she smiled. “Good,” she said again.

I created this and I can do it anytime I want.

I DREAMT that night of a terrible storm. I stood on a hill, the world below me stretching as far as I could see, bending subtly at the horizon. The wind whipped through my hair and lightning flashed above me. Water splashed my face as it fell from the open sky. Black clouds swirled overhead, heavy and treacherous. The grass underneath my feet gave a startlingly human moan as the wind moved through it. I heard a groaning roar to my left. As I turned, a tree began to grow, taking shape as it cracked through the earth and rose into the air. I expected leaves to burst forth from the branches, but as it grew larger, I knew the tree was dead. The black trunk looked infected and rotted. The branches began to bend with the wind, reaching for me as it snapped and snarled. It stopped only when it reached a height of a hundred feet (how I knew this, I don’t know). I stood before it, and an urge blew through me: I wanted to touch the tree. I wanted to feel the infection, the rough, calloused bark, the black sap that spilled like oil.

And then it whispered: This is what you will become. This is the shape of the world.

I felt myself begin to flex, and again I was torn from my body. No sound came from my silent scream. I rose high in the air, higher than I ever had before. I saw my right hand lift, palm up, the claw already formed. I tried to ignore the chill that slid down my spine.

Incendia, the Tree whispered. Ignis. Flamma.

I should have returned then, returned to myself to allow the fire to be born, but I couldn’t; I was trapped in the space above the world. I stared transfixed as the fire erupted from my hand and lifted above my head before it swirled down around my back, between my legs. I was never able to do this in reality, and I was shocked at the power behind it, how hungry I felt for it to be mine, how desperate I was to fall back into myself so I could play with the fire. I struggled. Nothing happened.

The Tree spoke again: Ventus. Procella. Omnia.

Those words meant nothing to me. Then, they meant everything.

My left hand rose and vertigo caused my world to spin. No, I screamed. No! She’ll find out, she’ll find out! She can’t know about this!

Ventus. Procella. Omnia.

As the fire continued to swirl around me (Is it alive? I thought hysterically. Oh my God it’s alive!), my left hand reached its zenith and then I flexed again, only instead of it being in my chest (the birthplace of all fire), the constriction was in my head, and the storm around me died, the wind ceased to howl. And then my greatest secret (that which I kept from everyone) coiled from my hands. The wind began to scream again, but it was coming from me.

No, I whispered.

Yes, said the Tree. You can control fire. But you also control the winds.

As the gale stormed from my left hand, it touched the fire, causing the air to ignite around me. As much as I screamed for it to stop, I couldn’t help but feel the potential of what I was doing, or at least what the other me was doing. Never before had I been able to fully display the faculty I was capable of, the aptitude that I had so long denied myself. I screamed, but now it was in pleasure. I crowed, I bellowed. I begged to go back. I needed to go back. This was my fire. This was my storm.

You, said the Tree. You think this is yours. I am never impressed by hedonism, by the carnality of the human spirit. This is not yours; or rather, it is, but it’s a gift. Something that can never be taken lightly.

At that point in the dream (was it? was it really a dream?) I would have agreed to sell my soul to be able to return to myself. My focus was extraordinary only in the fact that it converged on necessity, a desire unlike anything I had ever known. The Tree could speak of gifts and carnality all it wished; I would have done whatever it asked.

Let me back, I said. Let me go back in. I can do this. I have control.

The Tree sighed. Have you learned nothing, little one?

I’ll learn whatever you want me to. Just send me back!

No. Not until you see what you are capable of.

My heart broke then, if only for a moment, until I felt myself begin to drop to the ground. I don’t know how I kept the joy from tearing apart my face but I did. The Tree had lied. It was going to give me what I wanted. As long as I could maintain the façade, I would be given back to myself and that which I wanted most would be mine. No longer was I concerned whether or not this was a dream, nor was I worried about the warnings that still echoed through my ears. I felt the first sliver of unease as I came closer to the ground and could feel the heat of the Felix in front of me. This was new. In the years since my mother and I had begun our lessons, since I was aware of my singular act of creation, I had never before felt the burn of the flames. How could I, when it came from me? The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as if electrified, and I felt my face grow hot. My feet touched the ground, but still I did not return.

Entranced, I looked upon myself, watching as a flick of my right index finger caused the line of fire to rip up through the air and spin in a hollow circle above my head. My left hand twitched and the wind spun itself upward, filling the void in the middle of the halo. The Felix in front of me looked skyward for a moment, then back at me. His eyes were filled with an empty sorrow, as if what occurred next was inevitable. I raised my hand to touch his face, but he moved just out of my reach.

How? I asked him.

He shook his head and pointed a finger to the swirling halo above him.

It’s beautiful, I told him. Are you me?

The question seemed to confuse him.

He is and he isn’t, the Tree answered for him. This is real and it’s not. Gnopher created the Earth, Salamandeir gave it life. Sylpha gave it breath and Ondine let it flourish. That was their decision, and time may yet reveal that it was also their folly. They made their choice as I have made mine and as you shall make yours. But for all of Creation, there has never been one such as you. And that is why what you will become has brought you here. It is almost time for you to choose.

Other Felix looked sadly at me, a tear drifting down his cheek. The tear reflected the red glow of the fire spinning above his head, turning it to blood dripping down his face. I wanted to comfort him (me. us?) but I couldn’t get my legs to move, to close the last bit of distance between that separated us. It suddenly seemed very important that I stop whatever was about to happen.

What choice? I whispered.

The Tree shook gently, the branches sounding like bones as they knocked together. See, Child of Omnia, Child of Incendia. See what it is you’ve been given. It shook again, and the rattling became louder and stronger until I could feel its roots, entrenched deep in the earth, begin to quake. The Other Felix began to smile, the tears gone. I had never seen such an expression on my own face and cringed as it stretched and pulled, showing more teeth than any human ever had. I didn’t want to comfort him anymore. He was every fear I ever had, every darkness ever made, all rolled into one tiny body. He raised his left hand and his finger twitched again, and I was thrown to the side, my body slamming against the Tree. The roots breached the earth and ensnared my ankles; the branches lowered and wrapped me in a dusty embrace. I could feel the sap sticking against my back, fusing my skin into the trunk.

As the Tree spoke again, I could feel the voice rumble deep from behind me: The choices humans make are like a ripple in a pond. They carry from one to another, bouncing, dancing. Colliding. And still they go on. But you. The choices you make are like a tsunami in the ocean.

An arm of the Tree circled my head, forcing it to turn right. I looked down the hill from where we were perched and saw the lights of the world. Up here, there was a crown of fire that circled the Other Felix; up here, there was a Tree that had become my jailer. But down there, I could feel them all, all the people of the world. They moved with such dark organic grace, each on their own path, their individual lifelines stretched before them. Sometimes they intersected, sometimes they drifted away. Their thoughts began to race through my head, and they were full of love and anger. They hated and worshipped. They saved others, they committed genocide. I screamed at the weight of it all, the weight of everything, but no sound tore from my throat.

Are you ready, little one? the Tree asked me gently. I would show you this one last thing. And you must remember. For everything that I’ve shown you, everything you will see in the time to come, this is the one thing you must remember. While all of you are capable of such compassion, such blind devotion, there is a part of everyone that has the power to destroy.

I don’t want to see! I cried. I want to go home!

It’s too late for that. It has already begun. Watch.

God help me, I watched.

The words came again: Incendia. Ignis. Flamma. Ventus. Procella. Omnia. I heard a grunt and snapped my head to the left and saw Other Felix was raising his hands again, the pressure of doing so appearing almost too great. The nimbus of fire and wind above him broke apart, the fire roiling right, the wind gushing left. As soon as each reached Other Felix’s outstretched hands, they flashed brilliantly and formed eddying coronas, circling above each hand. His arms were completely stretched out in front of him, and he faced his palms in toward each other. The fire became a conflagration, the wind a hurricane as they began to snap and fissure. The flashes lit up Other Felix’s face, and that horrible smile returned.

He spoke: I created this and I can do it anytime I want.

And then the end of the world began.

As the Tree roared behind him, its appendages squeezing me tightly, I was able to make out two other words that Other Felix shouted: Tempestas Ignis. When the last syllable fell from his lips, his hands flared again, and I could feel him flex because it came from within me. His (my) chest constricted and his (my) head contracted, and he slammed his palms together. The sound of his hands striking was anticlimactic; what came from them was not. At first there was nothing, and then what could only be the sun erupted from his hands. It thundered skyward, and as he raised his hands, a great wave of fire rose up behind him. It quickly outdistanced the Tree in its race to touch the curve of the earth and continued higher. I felt my skin begin to blister and soften, my hair ignited, but I couldn’t turn away. I could feel my eyes cooking in their sockets, and my fingernails began to liquefy. I was in hell, but I could not ignore the storm before me.

Flares burst from the wall of fire, jutting out with terrifying intensity, almost solar in nature. Tornadoes that ignited as they broke away howled and shrieked as they dropped to the ground and exploded. The force as they slammed into the ground tossed dirt and gravel in muddy arcs, dividing the earth into great trenches. The grass smoked and grew black as it charred. I heard an animalistic shriek above me and looked up with the last strength I had and saw the sky was on fire, birds crying out, their flaming bodies plummeting toward the earth as if they were meteorites that had gotten stuck in the magnetic pull of the world. As they hit the ground, their bodies fell apart, stringy ropes of intestines sizzling as they unfurled with the time-honored tradition of force meeting an immovable object. I tried to close my eyes but I no longer had eyelids.

With the last burning breath I took, I saw Other Felix bend his elbows at his sides, his palms facing forward, as if he was ready to push something out of his way. His mouth grew into a thin line, and his hair whipped around his face as his eyes narrowed. And then he did push, his arms shaking, his hands almost too bright to look at. As his arms moved forward, the great wave behind him began to move, advancing with an almost dangerous beauty for something so large. As it came closer, I snapped back to his face before he was engulfed and saw the smile had returned. He was enveloped, and another flare shot out as he was consumed. Even as I died against the Tree, I could see Other Felix smiling in the middle of the firestorm, his arms outstretched in front of him. The wall roared its way down the hill, and as it reached the lights below, all of the people of the world took up a great cry, and I knew my time here was ending. It had to end, didn’t it? I was—
the cause of all this

—dead, and when you die in a dream, you either wake up or die in real life. But even so, I was held where I was, and the screaming of the world raped my ears as it burned and collapsed in on itself. I had a fleeting thought—
burn the tree

—but it was quickly tossed away as my hands turned black and the skin sloughed off my arms.

And just when I couldn’t take any more, I felt the Tree lift my burning figure up its trunk, the bony branches slipping in the river that was my body. I was passed up until I reached the Treetop, and before I could fall apart, the Tree spoke again: This is the way of the world. This is what you will become. You must remember what you have seen, little one. The power to destroy will always be in you, and there will come a day when you will have to make a choice.

I had died, but I was given the chance to ask one last time: What choice?

There will come a time when you will have to choose between the world and him. What comes after six and stays before eight, and you must not choose him. Your heart will tell you otherwise; it will tell you it’s real, that you must believe that your fate lies with Septem. He will give you strength, he will show you domination. He’ll make you think he can protect you and that you no longer have to make a choice. And that will consume you, and you will love him for it. You will think that he is yours and you are his. But that was never your destiny; it was never our destiny. We are meant to change the world, we are meant to alter the course of things. We were never meant to love, little one. We were never meant to be loved. We are what we are, who we are: we are power personified, given name and form. There is darkness in you, an opposite that must counteract the will of the world. And if you turn your back on it, if you let it crawl up behind you, to snake its way into your being, the great Corruption will finally be born. And Septem will have been the cause. Do not believe his lies.

The branches that held aloft my melting body suddenly tensed. I felt the rattle up through the remains of my stomach, my heart, my head. She comes now for you, little one, the Tree whispered urgently. Things have changed. She can no longer wait as her hand has been forced. You must wake now. You must wake and remem—

But its words were cut off. The sky above me ripped open and a blackness poured down, and then I snapped awake, alone in my bed.

And I had already begun to forget the dream.

I WONDER now, with everything said and done, if things would have been different had I remembered what the Tree had told me. Would I have made the same decisions, the same mistakes? Where would I be, had I remembered? Had I listened? I have learned in my short time here on this world that we as humans are all capable of a great many things, our minds able to process so much. Too much, really. But our greatest curse, our greatest folly, if you will, is our ability of hindsight.

Of regret.

Oh, Seven. How I wish I would have known.

AS I awoke, only a fleeting memory of fire followed me out of the dream. I drew in great gasping breaths, my lungs craving the air that I could not seem to take in quickly enough. It was dark and I was blind, as if I had been staring into a great flashing light and then been consumed by blackness. I didn’t know if it was real or if I was still trapped somewhere deep in the confines of sleep.

Then, footsteps. A banging on my door. The doorknob rattled.

“Felix!” my mother shouted. “Unlock the door! Now!”

I hesitated only for a moment, but then my feet moved and I was at the door before I was able to process that I had risen. I twisted the lock, and as it clicked, the door flew open, knocking me to the floor. My mother burst in, flicking the switch next to the doorway. Light instantly flooded the room, and it stung my eyes, causing me to hiss.

I felt her grab my arm and haul me to my feet. Her eyes were wild as she said, “We must leave.”

I felt chilled. “What? Go where? What’s going on!”

She dragged me out the doorway and toward the stairs. My little legs kicked and scrabbled for purchase, but my socks only slid along the hardwood floors. I tripped and fell against her as we reached the top of the stairs, and she lifted me with surprising strength into her arms. I pressed my head against her shoulder, a tear trickling down my cheek. “Where are we going?” I asked quietly, feeling her heart race against mine.

We reached the bottom of the stairs before she spoke, and by then, I had already seen the luggage propped near the front door. Fear blossomed in my head and heart as she said, “It’s time for us to leave.” She set me down near the bags and opened the front door quickly and quietly. She stuck her head outside and then pulled back in and looked down at me. I had never seen such an expression on her face, one of anger and desperation, of terror and elation. I could not understand. “Wait here while I load these,” she said. She grabbed a bag in each arm and disappeared out the door.

I closed my eyes. And in the darkness, I felt something flare.

Either she ran the whole way or my eyes were shut for longer than I had thought, because she came back in quicker than I thought possible. She reached for me again, but I took a step back.

“Felix,” she snapped. “We don’t have time for this. We have to go now!”

I took another step back. “Where are we going? Where’s Dad?”

Something flicked behind her eyes, something that I couldn’t quite place. “He’s going to meet us there,” she said, taking a step toward me.

“Where?” Another step back

“You’ll see when we get there.” Another step closer.

“Where’s there?”

“Felix, come to me. Now. I promise, this will all make sense shortly.” Closer.

I cocked my head to the side as I knew. “You’re lying,” I whispered.

And then I turned and ran.

I heard her shout behind me as I tore through the archway into the living room. I passed our table and knocked a chair down behind me, trying to do anything I could to block her path. I could hear her thundering after me, and I knew I did not stand a chance of getting away from her. But I also knew I had to try. I ran through the kitchen, and I tried to think of anywhere I could hide, anywhere that she wouldn’t find me. My eyes lit upon the cellar door at the end of the hallway ahead. There were dark corners, crevices that ran deep under the house. Just maybe I could—

“Felix!”

I could think rationally no further. I ran down the hallway, away from the woman who had given me life. I knew she was right behind me. I could almost feel her hands reaching for my shirt, my hair, anything she could grab to stop me. I screamed again and felt a shift within me, and as I approached the cellar door, my body began to take over, my survival instinct kicking in. Even though I knew it meant she would see, that my one and only secret would be exposed, I raised my left hand as I ran and flexed in my head, and I felt the air around me pull toward me as if I were a black hole. The photographs hanging on the walls began to rattle, the doors to bathrooms and bedrooms on either side of me shaking in their frames. As soon as I pulled enough of the air around me to me, I pushed… and once again I was torn from my body. I watched as a tornado the size of my body roared from my hands, and time slowed even further. I saw the great burst of air travel down the hallway, tearing the plaster from the walls. I saw the floorboards beneath it snap and rise, sucked in by the howling winds. My right foot touched the floor, and the last door on the left was ripped off its hinges. My left foot touched the floor, and the blast reached its target and the cellar door disintegrated. Even as I stared in awe, I was pulled back into myself as my right foot touched the floor again. Then time snapped, and I reached the entrance to the cellar and jumped.

In retrospect, jumping into a pitch-black room and down a flight of stairs was probably not the best idea I had ever had, at least up until that point in my life. I felt my feet leave the ground, and the blackness before me opened up and welcomed me into its depths. There was a dizzying sense of weightlessness, an apex reached where I thought it was possible to just keep rising, then the bottom dropped out and I fell. I somehow landed on my feet on the second landing where the stairs then turned left to reach the bottom floor. My chest hit the railing, and for a moment, I believed the cracking sound upon impact was my ribs. Then the wood of the railing gave way and I went through it, falling ten feet further, flipped head over heels and landing on a pile of boxes on my back. The air was knocked out of me, and I lay stunned.

“Felix?” my mother called from the top of the stairs. Her voice was low and heady, breathless. “Oh, Felix, we were told, but I never could believe… you… you’re a Wind Elemental too?” She sighed. “This… this changes everything.” I heard her hands sliding along the wall, attempting to find the switch that would flood the cellar with light. I forced myself to move and raised my right hand, pulling the fire out of me into my hand. I felt myself ready to leave my body once again, but I screamed in my head, forcing myself to stay where I was. There wasn’t enough time. The blood-rose bloomed in my hand, and the cellar flashed brightly. In that flash, I looked up and saw where the light bulb dangled from the ceiling. I ground my teeth together and pushed gently as I raised my hand toward the light. Fire shot in a slim line and crashed into the light bulb, causing it to shatter with an electrical pop. The fire spread quickly and quietly across the ceiling, but before it could ignite the wooden struts, I pulled it back down into my hands and snuffed it out. The room again was black. I leapt off the box and fumbled my way along the wall, finding a long stretch behind a row of boxes. Then I stopped. And listened.

“Are you hiding from me?” she asked quietly. “I am your mother. Come out. I know what’s best for you.”

I took only the shallowest of breaths. And then I heard one step after another as she began to descend the stairs, the wooden slats creaking slightly under her weight. She reached the landing where I had fallen through the rail, and I could feel her eyes searching the darkness, adjusting, watching. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing them to adjust to the black cellar. My mother started moving again, down the last flight of stairs to reach the ground floor. I opened my eyes and almost sighed in relief as I could see the outline of boxes in front of me. I quickly turned right and moved through the narrow corridor that existed between the wall and the refuse. I reached a corner and waited.

“Felix, how could you have never told me?” she asked, her voice closer than I would have expected. “How long have you been able to manipulate the air? Why would you keep such a thing from me? Do you know what it means to be a dual Elemental? No. No, of course you don’t.” I could hear her moving boxes five feet to my left as she spoke. She was close, too close. I rounded the corner and moved further into the cellar, absolutely sure each step I took would be heard.

She paused. Then, “I am trying to save you, Felix. You don’t know the people who are coming for you right now. You don’t know what they are capable of. I am your mother, and therefore I am your protector. You must let me help you.” Even then, at that young age, I recognized something off in her voice, some breathless quality that caused her words to sound like the crackling of dead leaves. She was my mother, she had helped to raise me, she had taught me to control the fire burning within me, but she had ceased to be that woman the moment I had awoken from some forgotten dream—
oh God the tree

—that I couldn’t seem to shake. Her voice was not conveying the need for help, but the need to possess. I closed my eyes again, and another flare occurred inside me.

“Felix!” she suddenly shouted.

I cringed and sank to the floor. Help, I thought. Oh, please, won’t someone help me? I can’t do this anymore! She’s here and OH GOD MY MOTHER IS COMING FOR ME—

Above me, a box shifted. I slowly raised my head and looked up. My mother stared down at me, eyes glittering, a small smile on her face, our game of hide-and-seek over. I’d lost. Her head disappeared, and the next box moved. Two more and she would be able to reach me easily. My hands began to shake, my heart to pound. I was going to go with her, and I would never see my father again, that much I knew. Imagination took over, and the machines that my mother had warned me about, the ones that I would be hooked up to if anyone ever found out what I could do, were all inevitable. How I knew, I don’t know. A premonition, a hunch, call it what you will; everything I knew was coming to an end.

No, a voice whispered from somewhere in the recesses of my mind. No, it will not come to this. Move. Use what you were given. Move!

And then, my left hand lifted of its own accord, faster than it ever had before. I didn’t have time to even prepare, to ready myself for what was to come. There was no constriction, no need to flex. The air around me took on shape as I called it to me, a sighed exhalation that sounded like a song. The atmosphere felt seismic as the room began to shake and shift around me. I barely felt the push as it ruptured from me, smashing into the room with a howl that I could only imagine the center of a tornado sounding like. The cellar exploded around me, and I heard my mother’s shout of surprised rage as she was thrown across the darkened room, lost in a cacophony that continued to rise.

I leapt to my feet and screamed at what I had done. Regardless of what she was doing, regardless of where she was trying to make me go, I had never thought it was possible to use this power against one that I loved. I felt the anger and terror rise, and the storm in the cellar grew louder. My feet were glued to the floor, and still I did not lower my hand. I felt love, yes, I felt horror, oh yes, but even with all of that swirling around me, the one thing I knew even more clearly was that I had been betrayed. I had been betrayed, all the while that hunch, that premonition, that knowing shouting through my head. The cellar moaned and trembled, and I heard the wall behind me begin to crack.

Enough, it whispered. Enough, Felix. Now it’s time.

Now you must run.

Somehow, I was able to pull the air back toward me, feeling it blow through my hands and my hair as it rushed its way home. As soon as it disappeared—as quickly and loudly as it had come—the room took on its new shape. Shreds of paper fluttered in the air around me, the wood of the house groaning from the exertion. I trembled at the destruction, listening for the tell-tale signs of movement, anything that would show me where my mother had ended up. There was nothing.

Run!

I jerked forward, tripping over a beam that had fallen from the ceiling. I sprawled to the ground, shredding the thin pajamas I wore, scraping my knees. The pain was sharp and glassy as I felt the cuts form, the skin parting. I grunted as I pushed myself up again and frantically searched for the stairs. I saw the bottom steps to my left and ran toward them. As I neared the first step, something behind me shifted, and I knew she was awake and rising. I reached the stairs and scrambled up them… only to reach the first landing and see the remaining way up had been destroyed in the storm. I jumped pointlessly, the nearest edge three feet from my hand. I was trapped in the dark with my mother with no way out.

And then her hand fell on my shoulder.

WHAT happened then… well, what happened then is something I have never really told anyone before. Sure, there are a few who know it completely, another few who may have filled in the missing pieces. Even now, though, it’s hard to speak of, to drag it into the light for all to see. I told you that hindsight is our greatest downfall, that regret can overwhelm us as it sinks us lower. This next is my grandest sorrow, this grief I brought my own to carry, the weight of which threatened to crush all I had.

It’s followed, fittingly enough, by him. While I was at my darkest, he came for me.

HER hand tightened on my shoulder as she spun me around. My mother bent down into my face, blood dripping down her cheek from a gash across her forehead. Her eyes were dark and wild, her fingers digging into my shoulder, bruising the muscle beneath. I gasped at the pain, the puff of air I exhaled slipping through her hair as her face met mine, her nose touching my nose, her forehead against my forehead. I felt the blood smear between the two of us.

“Now,” she hissed, “if you’re done playing your games, we will leave.”

There was a flash then, a bright spark that chased the shadows away. Her eyes widened as she looked down at my hand. I glared at her and felt my chest burn as it contracted, feeling the irresistible flare pouring into my grip. She snapped back up to my face, and whatever she saw caused her to recoil and release her hold. I had never felt that before, that rage, that scorching swell of anger that escaped from its confines and pushed into my hand. I felt my left foot crouch behind me.

Burn her, something dark whispered, a voice I had never heard before.

And then I pushed.

What came from me then was like nothing I had ever done before. The fire exploded from my hands, the shockwave visible and palpable. The conflagration arced around my body in crisscrossing ribbons that gathered in intensity as they grew, forming a half sphere with me at its epicenter, the white brightness almost impossible to look at. I pushed again, and the sphere detonated, striking my mother in the chest, knocking her across the room for a second time. As she flew, her clothes lit on fire, her hair blazed, and the scream that wrenched from her throat shattered what last bit of innocence I might have had. The darkened cellar immediately took on a fiery glow as the remains of the storm caught and burned. The fire licked up the walls and spread to the rafters in the ceiling. The house began to groan again, the floor above me cracking as it split. And then I felt the heat.

I choked on the acrid air as I tried to pull the fire back to me. Part of it came, but not all. I tried again, but the effort was too much, the realization of what I had just done too great. As the room blazed around me and as my mother’s screams stopped, I turned to move to the farthest corner away from the fire.

“Help! Oh, please, help me!” I screamed, but my voice came out weak, and I began to cough as smoke filled my lungs. I fell to my knees and crawled to the corner and waited to die. As I wrapped my arms around my knees, I wondered if it would hurt to burn. I wondered if the house would collapse on top of me before that happened. But above all this, I wondered if there was a special place in hell for little boys who set their mothers on fire. I huddled there, coughing as the black oily smoke entered my body, causing my vision to brighten as my brain began to shut down. I remember thinking what I believed to be my last thought: This is what you will become. This is the shape of the world.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!”

I looked up, disbelieving what I saw, sure that it was the last illusion of my asphyxiated brain: a giant knelt on the ledge above me, a large hand stretched out to me. “Come on, kid! Grab my hand!”

I stumbled to my feet, knowing he wasn’t real (how could anyone that big truly exist?) but I raised my hand anyway, reaching for his fingers. I heard the ceiling behind me finally let go with a loud crash, and a great wave of heat smashed against my back. I was lifted off the ground and thrust into the wall. My head rapped against it, causing stars to arc behind my eyes. Dazed, I looked up.

The giant lowered his hand again, a determined grimace marring his face. His blue eyes were wide and shiny, his black hair falling around his cheeks as his forehead scrunched in concentration. “You have to jump! I won’t let you go!”

And for some reason, I believed him.

I pushed away from the wall and jumped as high as I could, and I felt his monster paw wrap around my forearm. There was a moment of alarming vertigo as I was pulled up through the smoke and out of the burning cellar. The momentum the giant created in that movement caused him to fall onto his back. I landed on his chest, my hands on either side of his head, my knees and legs digging into his stomach. I looked down at him and was shocked to see that the giant, while still massive, was in fact a teenager, his boyish face betraying his size. He stared up at me, and even as the house fell apart around us, even as drops of fire rained down from the sky, his hand raised and brushed a lock of hair out of my face, and I felt his stomach rise as he breathed in deeply.

“You,” he whispered. “You’re a boy?” His hands cupped my face, and a tear streaked down my cheek onto his fingers. “I dreamt of you but… but I never thought….” I closed my eyes against the gentle touch of his enormous hands, feeling submerged in the depths of calm waters. I dropped down onto him, curling up into a ball, my head under his chin. His hands wrapped around my back. We both breathed in. We both breathed out. He smelled of pine.

The moment was broken as he trembled beneath me. We rose as one as he sat up, curling his legs underneath him, and stood. He pressed me into his chest even harder, and I clutched at his shirt. I felt his legs moving beneath us as he tore down the hallway. Again, as if by some unseen force, the world slowed around us. We passed an open doorway as his hand found the back of my head and slid through my hair, and the room through the door ignited. I turned my eyes up to the giant. As if he felt me staring at him, as if I called him to me, he looked down, his eyes meeting mine. The ceiling above and beyond his head was on fire, the orange-red rippling in rage as it cast his face in shadow. Another shudder ripped through him and entered me, and together we quaked.

Then the hallway behind us exploded.

We were thrown forward by a hot rush of air that buffeted against his back, but somehow the giant managed to hold onto me as he fell to his knees and slid across the floor through the kitchen. I peered over his shoulder as we skidded over the tile and watched as my home blew up behind him. The fire seemed alive as it chased after us, biting and destroying everything in an effort to reach us. The giant’s impetus brought us to the edge of the kitchen, and he vaulted to his feet and ran to the open doorway. I saw the luggage sat next to it still, waiting for a trip it would never take.

I closed my eyes, thinking of what I had done.

I felt the cold air surround us as he tore outside. We both took in gasping breaths that filled our lungs, and it was the sweetest thing I’d ever known. He collapsed onto the wet grass, and I jumped off of him, feeling my gorge rise. I gagged and heaved, the bile pouring out of me in a noxious stream. I did this again and again and again until there was nothing left. I felt the giant’s hand fall on my back, rubbing small circles as he whispered in my ear, his words a blur against the roaring in my head. As soon as he was sure I was empty, he pulled me onto his lap and rocked back and forth as the house burned before us.

All I could do was clutch at the giant as I broke.

SOMETIME later, he pulled back and put his hand around my chin, forcing my eyes to his. He smiled as I sniffled and rubbed my cheek against his palm.

“What’s your name?” he asked gently.

“Felix,” I whispered.

“Felix,” he said, closing his ocean eyes as if savoring the word on his tongue. “That’s a nice name.”

“Who are you?” I hiccupped.

He laughed quietly. “My name is Seven.”

“Like the number?”

“Yeah, little man, like the number.”

I thought on this for a moment. Having a number for a name seemed pretty stupid. And awesome.

“Why Seven? What happened to one through six?” I asked him smartly.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine. “They ran away.”

“Why?”

“Because seven ate nine.”

I pulled back sharply and scowled. “I’ve heard that joke before. That’s not even funny.”

“You have, huh? I’ll have to learn a new joke for you, then.” He crushed me to him again and lifted me off his lap, making me stand on the ground next to him. He pulled himself to his full height and became the giant once more.

“You’re really big,” I told him.

Seven grinned down at me. “I know. I have to be.”

“Why?”

He pulled me to his side, and I wrapped my arms around his tree trunk legs. “Because I have to protect you,” he said quietly.

“Why? How old are you? Do you live near here? I’ve never seen you before.”

He laughed again. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s ’cause I like you,” I said.

“Yeah? I like you too. I’m sixteen, and no, I don’t live near here.”

“How’d you know to find me?”

This caused him to pause. Then, “I’ll always be able to find you, Felix.” He said it with such reverence that another tear slipped from my eye. In the distance, there were sirens.

“I burned my mother,” I whispered, suddenly filled with shame and the need for him to hear my confession.

He knelt before me, his blue eyes wide and solemn. “You had no choice,” he said forcefully. “She would have taken you away. Away from your home, away from your father.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Away from me.” He shook his head as if to rid the cobwebs from his mind. “How can it be so strong already?” he whispered. “How can I know….” His voice trailed off as he opened his eyes.

He reached up behind his neck and his fingers twitched; then he pulled a chain out from his shirt. He brought it up around my head and fastened it behind me. I pulled the heavy medallion up to look at it, a small silver heptagon etched with a red flame on one side and a green tornado on the other. Each design had words written over it in some other another language I didn’t understand. “What’s this mean?” I asked him, showing him the letters that spelled Es Cor Meum.

“One day when you’re older, you’ll find out what it means,” he told me. “And when you do, you will know it to be true.”

This made no sense, but I nodded anyway. “Is it for me?” I asked, testing its weight in my hands.

He ran his fingers over the top of my head. “It is, little man. It’s a gift, from me to you. It’s… a promise.” He stood and looked down at me. “Your father will be here soon, and then things will change. You need to be brave, Felix. You need to be strong and brave for me. I have to go now, but I will find you. Someday, I’ll see you again.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you to go,” I told the familiar stranger.

Grief etched across his face as he picked me up for another devastating embrace. I felt my chin grow wet as his eyes began to leak. “I know,” he whispered. “I don’t, either. But someday soon, I promise. You and me aren’t done. Not by a long shot.” He pulled back away from me as he said his last: “Always remember, little man: you are not alone in this.”

And then as quickly as he had come, he escaped back into the night. I screamed after him, but he never stopped.

Behind me, the house continued to burn. And I was alone.

BUT not for long. Even as the sirens grew louder, my father came for me.

I stared off into the distance, willing the giant, Seven, to return for me. The squealing of tires broke me out of my reverie as a car stopped inches from my right arm. My father threw the door open and wrapped his arms around me, asking questions I could not answer. I saw the fear in his eyes, the hint of dawning truth as he pulled me away from flames that had started to stretch along the lawn. I was shoved into the car, the seat belt pulled across my chest. That was the night I learned my father had been expecting that very moment, that he’d understood more than I’d ever thought. That was the night we ran away and never looked back.

THREE days later we had new identities, sold to and prepared for us by a dark man in the back room of a bar that looked like a dream. Felix Paracel was gone. My father, Thaddeus Paracel, was gone.

He became Lucas Vanesco.

I became Atticus Vanesco.

And then we disappeared.

YOU are not alone in this.

When I was eleven, well hidden under my new name, a new city, a new life, I translated the runes on the necklace Seven had given me. It was Latin, and even when I understood its meaning, I was no closer to understanding what it meant. I never took it off.

Es Cor Meum.

You Are My Heart.

Chapter 1

I can feel the wind go by when I run. It feels good. It feels fast.

—Evelyn Ashford

Fifteen years later

I WOKE from a dream I couldn’t remember in an unfamiliar place that smelled of sex and dust. My head ached, my mouth felt filled with cotton. A strange blanket stretched across my naked skin, itchy as it caught against my nipple. I opened my eyes, and as the world came back to me, the room I was in swam into focus. Early morning light gleamed weakly through the window, and it was then I knew there would be a naked man next to me, whose name I wouldn’t be able to remember.

Again.

I lifted my head and looked at the large, heavily muscled man next me, lying on his stomach, his head turned away as he snored softly. Todd? Eric? Fuck, what was his name? Staring at him brought no clue to his identity so I reached down off the side of the bed, getting ready for the inevitable walk of shame. My hands grazed the carpeted floor as I searched for my pants. And apparently my underwear, I thought as I lifted up the blanket. I felt something wet and slick and grimaced as I thanked God I hadn’t been so far gone last night that I had forgotten to demand protection. I let the used condom slip between my fingers. Pants, pants, pants.

Ah, pants!

I slid my legs quietly off the bed, not wanting to wake the man who, given the benefit of the doubt, I’m sure had been a great lay. At least from what I remembered. John? Is that his name? I thought as I found my underwear in my jeans. I quickly slid them on, standing and jumping a bit, and my knees popped as I pulled them up and over my ass. I glanced around and saw my shirt had ended up being made into a bed for his cat. I shuddered. I hated cats. I flicked my wrist at the little monster, and it raised its head and yawned widely, obviously not caring that this annoying human wanted it to move. It was about to curl back down when I flicked its head, and it snarled quietly at me and rolled off my shirt. Cat hair. I hated cats.

As I slid the shirt over my head, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text from my best friend, Jason Taylor.

Where the fuck did u end up last nite Addy?

I rolled my eyes. U don’t want to know, I wrote back.

The response was immediate. Again? What was his name this time?

Jeff? I think. Or maybe Carl.

I looked down at Jeff/Carl/John/Todd/Whoever and knew I would never be in this room again. Ever since discovering the joys of no-strings-attached fucking at the tender age of seventeen, I hadn’t looked back. I was smart about it but never had the same one twice. It was easier that way. There weren’t many people that were a constant in my life, for good reasons. It was better to grab a few moments of pleasure and then cut my losses and run. I had learned a great many things over the years, but never letting anyone get too close was the most important.

Most of the time, I mused as my phone vibrated again.

Let me guess. Jeff/Carl is the biggest guy u could find & ur trying to sneak out.

Sometimes, it seems people know me way too well. Maybe, I typed back.

I found my hooded jacket (more goddamn cat hair!) and left the bedroom. I wandered down the hallway, looking at the framed photographs that hung from the wall. The man I left sleeping in his room grinned at me from frozen moments in time. Here he was at a wedding, here he was surrounded by half-naked men at a beach, his body ripped and tan. Here he was between two people who must have been his parents, his grin wide, his huge arms wrapped around their shoulders. I smiled quietly to myself. These were a stranger’s memories, not mine. At least he had that.

Coffee? was Jase’s response.

Hell yes. See ya at the usual.

AS I left the apartment building of He Who Can’t Be Named (No Matter How I Hard I Try), I pulled my sunglasses out of my coat pocket and covered my eyes from the damnable sun, whose sole purpose seemed to be to mock my hangover. I joined the crowd on the sidewalk, immediately surrounded by the group of faceless people that always seemed to haunt the streets of Terra City, which had been my home for the past fifteen years. I knew its hidden alleys and dark causeways like the back of my hand. I raised my arm, signaling for a taxi. One screeched to a halt, the driver waving me in. I slumped into the backseat.

“Where you go?” the driver asked, his accent indistinguishable as it poured out of his mouth.

“Potio’s. Eighth and Campana.”

“You got it.”

He slammed his foot on the gas pedal, jerking us out into the flooded Sunday morning traffic, blending in with the rest of the movers and shakers. I slid further down in the seat, playing with the medallion around my neck. My phone vibrated again. I looked down. I knew who it was immediately by the context.

Did you know that lipstick has fish scales? You’re lucky you’re gay.

My dad had this really weird obsession with off-the-wall facts. Hardly a day went by that I didn’t learn something useless. I rolled my eyes and smiled to myself. At least he tried.

Very lucky, Dad.

What are you doing?

Meeting Jase.

Come over when you’re done. There’s something I need to show you.

Will do.

I snapped the phone shut and stared out the window. The monumental buildings of downtown Terra City rose from the landscape, shading the streets from the sun. Most people that come here only visit the touristy stops: Quadratum Plaza, the Victorio Building, the Grandis Statue. And then they leave, knowing they’ve seen wonders of this world. But those who live here look below the slick sheen and can see the grime and dirt that have infested this place. The homeless that sleep in boarded-up doorways, the trash that piles up daily, the smell of ozone and gasoline and rubber that is distinct to the City. It was that smell that I breathed in deeply then, that smell I somehow loved. So what if it was the murder capital of the world? So what if the government was corrupt and the police ran rampant, seemingly answering to no one but themselves? This place was my home. It had become my refuge after… well, after that night. With twelve million people, it wasn’t that hard to get lost in the mass that swarmed the streets. People disappeared here every day.

The cabbie tossed a newspaper back over the seat, and I picked it up, disinterestedly scanning headlines. War here, famine there. A man with explosives strapped to his chest entered a crowded market place, killing forty-seven in some exotic-sounding country three thousand miles away. A train had derailed, leaking chemicals into a river. Someone had cloned a monkey. A celebrity got caught with a hooker, a child prodigy solved a thousand-year-old math proof. Gays could legally get divorced in yet another state. And then, buried on the seventh page, a headline caught my eye:

THE ELEMENTAL REGISTRATION

ACT PASSES IN THE SENATE

In a move that surprised no one, the Elemental Registration Act, or the ERA as it’s known, passed with a unanimous vote by the United States Senate. Calling it a “victory for moral America,” Senate Majority Leader Ross Edmonds called upon the House of Representatives to follow the Senate’s potentially groundbreaking move that would require the five-thousand-plus Elementals currently residing in the US to register for tracking and what is being referred to as “scientific pursuits,” though what these pursuits may be is still unclear. The proposed legislation would also require those with Elemental abilities to report to a government official on a weekly basis and to notify the neighborhood they reside in of their presence in that particular community. Reverend Gary Sharp of the Church of the White, known for picketing the funerals of soldiers who have died in combat with anti-Elemental rhetoric, spoke highly of the bill, calling it “the work of the one true God. Those who attempt to control His creation shall know no quarter.”

I closed the paper and then my eyes.

It was easier not to think.

I THREW a couple of bills over the seat at the cabbie, hearing him mutter something in his native tongue. I opened the taxi door and slipped into the crowd, pushing my way to Potio’s. Jase stood out front, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You look like shit, Addy,” he said, grinning at me.

“And you look like you didn’t have sex with anyone last night,” I retorted, pushing past him. The coffee house wrapped me in the promise of caffeine. There was a line. I hated lines.

I felt Jase reach up and brush off my shoulder. “Cat hair? You hate cats.”

“I think the little fucker rolled over my shirt while I slept,” I groused.

He arched an eyebrow. “Slept? Or passed out?”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Same thing.”

“Didn’t you see it there when you got to The Incredible Hulk’s house last night?” He saw me hesitate and laughed. “Liquid again?” he asked, naming my frequent hunting ground. I drank too much when I went there. It was simpler to be drunk and to look up into some random guy’s face like it actually meant something other than a warm body to lie next to.

“Liquid again,” I agreed. “I thought you were supposed to meet me there.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, you didn’t. You know we were supposed to meet at the Cantina. If I’d known having a gay best friend meant I had to go to clubs with names like Liquid and Bulge and Cockhole, I would’ve had second thoughts about this whole thing.”

“Liar. I get you more play than you would ever get on your own. Women just love you for having a gay best friend. It makes them think you’re sensitive. And there’s no bar called Cockhole. I would know if there was.”

He played hurt. “I am sensitive,” he said earnestly.

“Right,” I muttered. “Mr. Sensitive, that’s you. Now buy your best friend coffee so he can go into the bathroom and attempt to look presentable for the public eye.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than what you’ll find in there,” he assured me. I scowled at him over my shoulder and pushed my way into the single toilet, closing the door behind me.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Shit, I thought. Jason had been right. I looked like I had been ridden hard. By a cat. I scowled again and reached up to brush the infinitesimal hairs off my shoulders and chest. I took off my sunglasses and stared at my reflection. The person looking back had bags under his dark hazel eyes, gaunting his already thin face. His blond hair was buzzed short, almost militarily so. I rubbed my hand through the stubble and saw him do the same. I bared my small white teeth. Nothing was stuck in them. I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands together, letting it fill before I brought it to my face, knowing the splash wouldn’t help the reflection I saw.

I had been told many times in my life that I was attractive, but I tossed it aside like any other compliment I received. I was small, five foot seven (or nine, depending if I felt like stretching the truth), and this caused an overwhelming desire in people to crowd me, to want to provide protection. No matter where I went I could see it in their eyes, as if something drew them to me, needing to surround me and shelter me from the outside world. I was skinny (“too skinny,” both my father and Jase admonished), but when I moved, I carried myself with an almost catlike grace, emanating what I’d always thought was confidence, but in reality, the stalky movement was telling everyone to go fuck themselves. I had been called attractive, yes, but cold, as well. It didn’t help that I went through guys like I was on an assembly line, and while I’m sure the nickname “Ice Queen” stuck for a reason, it was only because they were pissed off that they couldn’t screw me again. Whatever. I know I’m a good lay. Ego be damned.

I saw my reflection reach in the collar of his shirt and pull out the medallion that adorned his neck and twirl it in his hands, an almost unconscious habit that I recognized as being my own. The origins of the pendant were lost in that great sea that was my childhood. I remembered bits and pieces: the fire, my mother, the giant whose face I could no longer remember. I remember reaching for him, his wide blue eyes, and the way he had held me. I thought what I remembered was a lie. I shoved the ensign back into my shirt, its weight comforting against my skin.

Comfort? my damnable conscience asked. Comfort indeed.

I felt a heat begin to rise in my chest, and I closed my eyes. In the darkness in the bathroom of Potio’s, I saw a familiar flare ignite and burn quietly within me. I caressed it gently as it begged for release. I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder, reassuring myself that the door was still shut tight. I turned back, and the reflection smiled briefly at me, his warm smile never reaching his eyes. That man was a stranger these days, smirking as if he knew something I didn’t. He nodded and I nodded back, agreeing that the itch needed to be scratched. I raised my right hand and closed my eyes again, and the sunburst in my chest exploded in an incandescent brilliance. I pushed gently and felt the familiar ripple as the fire radiated from my hand. There was no out-of-body experience, no gritting of my teeth: mere child’s play, that. I opened my eyes, studying the flame with an almost empirical resolve. It glowed so much brighter than it ever had when I was a child, its white hot center capable of melting steel. I became lost in that flicker, that creation in my hands. I brought it out rarely now, keeping the source of my ignominy buried deep.

There was a knock at the door.

I sighed and extinguished my hand, pushing it back down.

I went back out into the world.

“BETTER?” I asked Jase as I took my seat across from him.

He slid my latte across the table and studied me for a moment. “Than before?”

I nodded.

“Much. Although I do have to say, Addy, this can’t go on forever.”

I snorted into my coffee, causing a backdraft of foam to rise toward my face. “And what’s that?”

Jase rested his hands on the table in front of me and studied me. I glared back, trying not to smile. He always did this, much like the others I’d met. He felt the need to protect me, and being at least six inches taller than me and outweighing me by a good eighty pounds allowed him to do so. Or so he thought. But with him, it was different. I didn’t feel suffocated, I didn’t live in fear of what he would find out (although it would be a cold day in hell before he ever knew I was an Elemental—I couldn’t take the risk of what that knowledge would have done to his life). We were fourteen when we met in the hallways of Luda High out in the Meridian Borough. I was a freshman and he was a sophomore, and he happened to witness my welcome to the school as some dumbass grabbed my head and smashed it into a row of lockers. My nose broke and began to gush, but I didn’t notice. My attention was on my rescuer, this older boy that I didn’t know, as he snarled, his fists flying as he bashed in my attacker. It took one punch to the side of said dumbass’s head and he was out cold on the floor.

Jase skipped the rest of the day with me, sitting in the emergency room, my nose leaking. He told me his father had been a cop with the TCPD and had died the year before in a routine traffic stop, a shotgun blast to the face. I told him my mother had died in a fire. We became inseparable over shared tragedy, over my broken face. He was my hulking shadow, and against my better judgment, I let him be. It helped when he didn’t bat an eye when I told him I was gay four days later. “And?” he’d asked.

“You know what I mean,” he growled now, breaking me out of the past. “You’re running yourself ragged with all this fucking around you’re doing.”

“My libido is a dangerous thing,” I told him.

“You’re a big boy,” he barked at me. “Control it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Years of watching you drown yourself in booze and dick. Don’t you think it’s time you grew up?” He sat back in his chair, grimacing as if the words pained him. “What are you trying to find out there?”

“The best way to get off.”

“Why?”

“Wow, that semester of Psych 101 is really working wonders for you. Maybe you should have followed that instead of becoming a cop.” I was annoyed, and I let it show on my face. He had always been able to hold some form of restraint when it came to my extracurricular activities, regardless of how he felt about them. If I didn’t know how absolutely straight he was (an awkward drunken pass I made at him years ago, rejected with such tenderness, was more than enough evidence for me), I would have thought he was jealous. And maybe he was, in his own way; the few people in my life did seem to need to possess my undivided attention. I don’t know what I did to call it to me, it just happened.

“You’re funny when you’re hungover,” he said.

“One of us has to be,” I replied smartly.

He chuckled. “It’s always fun to talk to you when you haven’t gotten any sleep and you reek of sex.”

“Is this why you called me? To berate me?”

He shook his head sadly. “I called you because I miss you,” he said. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, and even when I do, it’s like you’re not even there. It’s like you’re….” He stopped and sighed, rubbing his hands through his thick dark hair, the muscles of his forearms straining against the leather jacket he wore. Jason looked good, even with that annoyed look on his face. I don’t know what it was about him that made me toss all my inhibitions out the window, all my fears of getting close to someone seeming like trite meanderings of a confused kid. The women in his life (of which there were a few, regardless of all the crap he was giving me) fell at his feet, tossing curious glances in my direction. They loved that he was a cop, they loved that he was a man’s man, capable of picking up each one of their little bodies and heaving them across the room, picturing the way his uniform must cut and cling to every inch of his bulky body as he did so. They loved his smile that would flash quickly, causing momentary blindness. They would whisper in his ear, promising him things that he’d heard before. They would glance at me again, the hard lines around their mouths set, grabbing and pulling until he gave them the attention they craved. Jase laughed at their jealousy, never really clarifying our relationship for them beyond saying I belonged to him. I know it burned him (again, out of what? jealousy? loyalty?) to see me walk off with Mr. Right Now whenever he came on my hunting expeditions. When I was with him, he expected me to be with him. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t called him in a while; it’s easier to walk away when you don’t leave someone behind.

“It’s like I what?” I asked him.

He sighed again and looked out the window, watching Terra City pass us by. “You’ll think it’s stupid,” he grumbled, uncharacteristically shy.

“Bullshit,” I challenged.

His eyes narrowed. “Fine. It’s like you’re waiting for something.”

I rolled my eyes. “Before I say it’s stupid, I’ll give you a chance to explain.”

“Gee, thanks. I enjoy these heart-to-hearts you and I have.”

“Stalling doesn’t help,” I reminded him. He knew as well as I did that I couldn’t let things go. It was my curse.

“Ahhh,” he huffed out. He was struggling to find the right words to say, and against my better judgment, my curiosity piqued. This was not like him. I waited. “Ever since I’ve known you,” he said, “you always seem to be waiting for something to happen.” He didn’t (wouldn’t? couldn’t?) look at me as he spoke, instead focusing his attention on the table as he tore a napkin into tiny strips. “You were always so watchful as a kid, with those big eyes of yours, and I always chalked it up to waiting for the other shoe to drop, for more bad news to come.” He stopped.

“But?” I asked him quietly.

“But that wasn’t it. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s like you know something is going to happen someday and that’s when you’ll really begin.”

“Begin what?”

He was getting agitated. “I don’t know!” he said, full of exasperation. “If I knew, maybe I could fix it! I hate this—the not knowing. Fuck, Addy, you see the news: the world’s going to shit, this city is crumbling down around us, and nobody cares! I arrested a guy last week that had his four children making meth in the cellar of his house, their dirty fucking house that smelled like shit, and if any one of those kids had been to school in the last year, I would have been shocked. I responded to a call where a woman had been beaten again and again and again by her husband, and she no longer had a face. And nobody gives a damn!” His teeth ground together, his chest heaving. “And then there are the Elementals….”

Careful, a voice warned.

“What about them?” I asked evenly.

His eyes rose to mine, pained and glassy. “Did you know the mayor has already started to put together a task force?”

“For what?” My body felt cold. The mayor of Terra City, the honorable Alex Sampson, had never been a favorite of mine. I certainly hadn’t voted for him (I actually hadn’t voted at all—low profile and all that) but even I could see how potentially dangerous his militant-like stronghold on the City was. He had run on a platform of change (not just “Oh Yes We Can” but “You Bet Your Fucking Ass We Will”) and conservative progression, but it was his staunch support of the ERA that had gotten him elected.

“For that goddamn registration,” Jase spat out. “In ‘anticipation of the enacted law’, he plans on having troops on the ground on day one, ready to make that list of all the Elementals in Terra City. He called for volunteers, and he had so many he had to turn the rest away so he would actually still have cops on the street.”

“And you?” I asked, proceeding quietly onto dangerous ground.

“And me what?”

“Did you volunteer?” I already knew the answer, but some part of me still needed to hear him say it, to tell me he wasn’t part of the so-called Iron Fist of Sampson. Jason Taylor was the one who knew me best, even if he didn’t know everything about me. A small voice screamed again from the depths of my soul, begging me to tell him, to share the greatest secret I still kept. But I pushed it away, telling myself yet again that it wasn’t just for me, that I did it to keep him safe. He was one of the few I had let in, and I needed to keep him safe.

He scowled at me. “You better be joking, Addy. You know I would never fucking agree with the ERA. How soon is it before we have to round them all into camps? I would never be part of something so destructive.”

I nodded. “But even I know that in your line of work, there’s a difference between being a volunteer and being volun-told.”

“I won’t let it get to that point,” he promised darkly, and as if a draft had blown in from the outside, I felt a chill run down my spine.

“Not to be narcissistic, but what does that have to do with me?”

“What are you waiting for?” he asked me suddenly, turning on the cop voice, the voice I knew he used in interrogation. It was flat, almost nasally, and I resented him for it.

Attempting to keep my anger in check, I said, “I’m not waiting for anything, Officer.”

He stared at me. I stared back. As always, he broke first. I hadn’t met someone yet who could beat me at that game.

“My point,” he begrudgingly continued, “is that I’m worried about you.”

“And when is that any different?” I teased him gently, trying to erase the anger I felt.

He snorted. “You’re lucky, you know.”

“Oh, I know. About what?”

He sat back in his chair and puffed out his chest comically. “You’ve got someone like me to watch your back.”

I reached out and patted his hand, relieved that the conversation had been steered in a new direction. “Keep telling yourself that, big guy.” I looked down at my phone; it was later than I thought. “Look, I gotta go. I told my father I would see him today.” I picked up my coffee and stood. I stopped when he reached out with his paw and gripped my wrist.

“Addy, I’m just worried about you,” he said softly. I looked over my shoulder and saw his eyes cast down at the table. It was almost enough to break my heart. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” I said stiffly. “You won’t.”

“And if something was… happening, you’d tell me. Right?”

I bit back the retort that threatened to bubble over my lips. “You’d be the first to know.” I waited for him to nod to himself, and he let go of my wrist and stood, following me out of the coffee shop. I signaled for a taxi, hoping he wouldn’t want to share. We’d done too much sharing already today, and I needed to do what I did best: run.

I smiled too brightly at him as a cab pulled in front of us. “I’ll see you later,” I called over my shoulder.

“Addy.”

Shit. “What?” I said sharply, frozen with my hand on the door.

“You know what.”

“Aren’t we a little old for this?”

I felt his hand on my shoulder and knew what his response would be. Ever since that day when he had sat with me in the hospital, my nose leaking uncontrollably, ever since he had told me about his father and how he’d thought his world was going to end (until I found you, the implied words buried in his grief), he’d decided to keep up a tradition his father had shared with him and his mother. You never know when a day will be your last, he’d said to me, as his father had done to him. You never know what call you’ll get in a day, whether it will be one that won’t allow you to come home. The words, common to most, a mantra to him, were to be said with any parting.

“We’ll never be too old for it as long as we mean it,” Jase said over the noise of the street. The cabbie tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, looking briefly at his watch. He could wait. I owed my best friend this. And I would mean it.

I turned and reached up, grabbing his head in my hands, and he grinned so beautifully at me that I couldn’t believe I would ever deny him this. I brought his head down and kissed his forehead. “I love you,” I told him truthfully.

“I love you too, Addy,” he said, looking pleased. He looked up to the sky. “It looks like snow,” he said as he walked away, mixing into a group of Asian tourists who twittered musically amongst themselves as their cameras flashed.

“Hey!” I shouted after him.

He turned and cocked an eyebrow, a talent I was always envious of.

“You have to work tonight?”

He shook his head.

I sighed. “The Cantina? Seven o’clock?”

“You gonna leave me there if some side of beef looks at you with fuck-me eyes?”

I laughed. “I’m not promising anything.”

“Seven,” he agreed. Then he walked away.

IT TOOK thirty minutes to cross the City to my father’s house out in Alta, during which Jase’s prediction came true and snow began to fall in fat flakes. There was something amusing about the way it fell, determined to cover the hard-edged city under a blanket of pristine white. The cabbie said something and I grunted my agreement, entranced by the sight, Jase’s words still echoing through my head: Did you know the mayor has already started to put together a task force?

I hadn’t known that, and it disturbed me greatly. I tried to keep my ear to the ground as much as I possibly could, listening to the hushed whispers that spread through the City. I’m sure Sampson wanted to keep his actions as covert as possible, but it seemed unlikely that there wouldn’t have been something, anything that would have betrayed his plans. The funding for such an endeavor was not a secret: the ERA allotted billions for the sum of its parts. But nowhere in the bill (which I had read repeatedly, each time feeling a greater sense of unease) did it make mention of financing task forces designed to do… what exactly? Round up those like me peaceably? To ensure cooperation? It seemed to me that if an Elemental didn’t want to go anywhere, then he possessed the power to stay right where he was. Fire, air, water, earth, all of those like me could fight back, if they so chose to do so. But at what cost? What would they hold above the Elementals to force consent? Their jobs? Their families?

Their freedom?

Maybe it was something I should have expected, something I should have planned for. Only one person alive knew about me, so my fear seemed to be unfounded. But there was still a niggling feeling that I could not shake, a disquiet that followed me as the snow slipped from the sky.

What if they chose to fight back? I thought.

Then there would be war, came the reply.

I suddenly felt confined in the cab, the air too hot, the backseat of the taxi too small. I looked wildly at the window, forcing my mind to gather itself, to recognize where I was. I saw familiar houses, lawns that I had walked past as a teenager becoming buried under white. I was still about five miles away. I told the driver to pull over, wanting to go to ground in the nearest subway. Even though I felt suffocated in the back of the car, I felt too exposed out in the open. I could ride the train the rest of the way. At least there it was dark and everyone only cared about themselves.

I found the nearest subway entrance and walked underneath the city, the cold following as I descended the stairs. As I came to the bottom of the steps, I reached back and pulled up the hood of my jacket. The sound of the subway quieted to a dull roar inside the black fabric around my face. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling keys, feeling my phone. I found the subway card and slid it through the turnstile, watching the light change from red to green. People faded in and out around me. I kicked newspapers, flyers, cups that littered the ground. Graffiti etched its way along the walls: Fuck, said one succinctly. i killeD A maN tOday, said another angrily. The last caused a flutter in my stomach: The SCARRED KING Sees You. I thrust my hands back into my pockets, finding a quiet corner to stand in, watching the ticker above. Five more minutes, and my train would come.

I watched as trains came and more people boarded, less people getting off. The platform seemed to empty more quickly than I’d ever seen it before. Even if it was snowing outside, it seemed impossible that the tunnel would be this sparse early on a Sunday morning. Those left kept their eyes down toward the ground, the rumbling of a distant train shaking the concrete beneath us. One man bopped his head back and forth to a beat only he could hear. A woman wrung her fingers nervously, the cracking of her knuckles like shotgun blasts. A baby in a stroller scrunched up its face to wail but no sound came out. His mother bent over, her finger extended as she scolded. I looked up at the ticker again. My train was going to be late. Shit. I closed my eyes.

The silence deepened.

I opened my eyes.

I was the last one on the platform. I hadn’t even heard another train come to gather those last few. I glanced around, attempting to keep my nerves in check. The underground seemed darker than it had when I arrived only a few minutes before. I could hear water running somewhere down the dim tunnel. Above me, a light flickered, crackling as it went on and off, on and off. I leaned up against the wall, willing my train to come through. I should have stayed in the taxi, I thought. I looked up at the ticker again. It said 77777777777777777777.

I heard a rattle from behind me, and I craned my neck slowly, trying to find the source of the noise. Nothing. Was it a rat, one of those big sewer fuckers that urban legend dictated could be the size of a dog? Or was it a homeless person, attempting to find some shelter from the gathering storm? It seemed more likely that my mind was playing tricks on me, as minds are prone to do when you’re alone and uncomfortable. The sounds I heard were just a projection of what I expected to hear underneath Terra City.

“Felix,” a voice said quietly, from off to my right. I whipped my head around, expecting to see someone standing right next to me but there was no one. The platform seemed to stretch, receding into the false midnight as the lights began to go out, one by one. Beyond the edge of light, I heard feet shuffling slowly, heavy boots dragging along the floor. The next to last light flickered out, the one above me the only one left. The ticker above the tracks said 77777, and then it went black as it died.

“Felix,” it said again. From behind me.

I whirled around. Nothing.

“Who the hell is there?” I croaked out. “How do you know my name?”

A deep chuckle spread around me, the reverberations causing my bones to shake.

I’d had enough. Whoever it was knew my real name, was messing with me, and anger rose beyond the fear. If they knew who I was, then they knew what I could do. And I was not one to disappoint, much like I wasn’t one to die alone in the dark beneath the City. For the second time in a day (more than any other time in the last fifteen years), I gripped the fire within me and called it out. As it burst from my hand, the light above me exploded in a shower of sparks, their glow dying as they sputtered out on the cold, wet floor. I pushed harder, causing the flames to grow, creating the warming glow I was so familiar with. I spun my hand around, chasing the inky blackness, revealing that I was alone.

“What do you want?” I called, ignoring the waver in my voice.

Silence.

Then—

The ground beneath me shifted and cracked, the cement splitting with a dull roar. I jumped away from the fault line, watching it race toward the far wall. It reached the fold where floor met wall and climbed upward. The fire in my hand sputtered out, reversing without my assistance. But before the dark could swallow me, the crack in the floor began to emit a faint orange light. The dull glow etched its way along the split in the floor, reaching the wall and rising up. As it reached the graffiti on the wall, the words exploded angrily and shone in black: THE SCARRED KING SEES YOU .

The synapses in my brain fired as my right foot lifted and stepped forward, and then my left foot followed and I was walking toward the words, wanting to follow the arrows. How the hell is no one down here with me? I thought as I tried to stop walking toward the wall. I was ten feet away from the graffito when a low groan echoed through the subway station and the debris on the floor rose deftly in the air, followed by the benches against the wall as they snapped out of their bolted feet. The large cement posts cracked, and shards of concrete exploded outward, only to be stopped by some force mid-burst. I stared in wonder as I passed under a five-foot section of the wall as it listed lazily over my head, and I thought—
this is a dream

—it would fall as I passed under it. I reached up and pressed it gently, amazed as it began to spin on its axis, the light from the crack in the ground catching its shadows, sparking along small crystals embedded in the brick. I heard a metal shriek behind me and knew the train tracks were bending and breaking. My feet stopped and I turned, THE SCARRED KING SEES YOU within reaching distance. I lifted my hands, the sudden desire to touch the words overwhelming me, and without even the smallest push, the wind and fire surged from my hands and the arrows next to the words shot down the wall, leaving an arcing trail behind them like the tail of a comet. They rushed away, then up and reversed on themselves until they were above the graffiti on the wall. Quicker than I could have believed, they descended into the SCARRED KING and the words ruptured, shattering along the lengths of the wall. I reached forward still, my right hand blazing, my left hand howling, and I touched the wall, the remains of the graffiti ricocheting back underneath my hands.

The fire faded. The wind subsided.

And new words formed underneath:

Promised to the heart of his desire and fate,

The SCARRED KING stares in wonder.

The Light of the Animo Dimidio too late
to stop the world from tearing asunder;

Half over Half, the darkness sleeps
as the Power of Ventus and Ignis unfurl.

And to silence the cries of those who weep?

The Bringer of Darkness, the Destroyer of Worlds.

As the last line faded into memory, the wall in front of me split and a dark hand burst through the tiles, gripping me by the throat. I was pulled harshly into the wall, my head knocking brightly against it.

Felix, it promised.

Then—

A train?

A train in the tunnel—

My eyes snapped open, the loud clack-clack-clack of a train arriving at the station invading my ears. I gasped and bent over, feeling phantom fingers around my neck as I gagged. A man standing next to me looked at me curiously before stepping away and opening his newspaper again. A woman to my left talked loudly on her phone. A baby cried, a child laughed.

The subway platform was full.

The ticker above the tracks said my train would arrive in two minutes.

I looked at the ground: no rift. I looked at the wall. Fuck, said one. i killeD A maN tOday, said another. Nothing else. No SCARRED KING, no destruction of the platform. I looked down at my hands, the life lines and the fate lines as they always were, what lay underneath hidden, where it belonged.

What the hell is happening to me?

TWENTY minutes later I stood in front of my father’s door, working up the courage to walk in, schooling my ashen face to hide my inner turmoil. I fingered the ensign around my neck, its familiar presence a solace I could not be without. I took a deep breath and then another and then another.

It was just a dream, I scolded myself. It was just a dream.

Just a dream, a voice reassured me. You didn’t get much sleep last night and you passed out against the post in the subway.

Exactly.

But then why did it seem so familiar? It wondered. You’ve heard those words before. Ventus. Ignis.

It’s Latin, I replied. Wind. Fire. I’ve known that for years.

It chuckled. But from where?

To that, I had no response.

I opened the door.

“DID you know that a sneeze travels out of your mouth at over one hundred miles an hour?” my father asked me in lieu of any greeting, his eyes never leaving what looked like a schematic spread out across the desk in his study.

“Honey bees have hair on their eyes,” I responded. I was an old hand at this game.

“A man named Charles Osborne had the hiccups for sixty-nine years! Can you imagine that!” He reached up and scratched his head. “Hiccupping for that long would drive a man insane,” he muttered.

I loved my father with all my heart.

“What’s the word?” I asked as I sank down into an old leather couch, a thin layer of dust springing up around me, causing me to sneeze.

Hearing the noise, my father looked up at me. “Are you getting sick?” he asked me with wary interest. “Have you been eating? You don’t look like you’ve been eating. Do you want to eat? I can make you some food.” He studied me with dark eyes that were familiar in the fact that they were my own. The rest of his face was different, changed from what it had been when I was a child. After we’d fled that night, my father had undergone extensive plastic surgery to alter his appearance. I remember changing the blood-soaked bandages on his face as he grimaced and howled in pain. I had asked why. He’d never answered.

Looking at him now, I struggled to remember what he’d looked like before. His hair had long since grayed, the lines around his face deepening gracefully. He towered above me, as did most of the people I knew, and had not yet fallen into the middle-age fat trap, which gave me hope about my future since exercise of any kind absolutely bored me to tears. What’s the point of jogging anywhere when I could take a cab and drink coffee while I did so? My father liked to run, the weirdo. I had once told him that he was good-looking for an old man. He responded that he was good-looking for any man. While I didn’t get height from his genetics, our sense of vanity made up for it in spades.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I don’t want you to go through the trouble of putting Pop-Tarts in the toaster. We all know how that ended last time.”

“Bah,” he grumbled as he waved his hand at me. “That was one time, and it wasn’t my fault that it exploded. There was either something in the heating coil or something in the Pop-Tarts.”

“Definitely.”

“Now you’re just humoring me.”

“I sure am. Isn’t it neat?”

He scowled and looked down at the paperwork in front of him. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you getting sick? You look like shit.”

“I’m fine,” I huffed.

“What was his name?”

“Who?”

“Whoever.”

“Whoever?”

“Addy, don’t play dumb. It’s not a good look on you.”

I sighed. “Todd.” I paused, considering. “Or maybe Carl.”

“Addy—” he started.

“Dad, I already went through this with Jase. I don’t need to do this again,” I begged. I didn’t know if I could sit through yet another lecture about my sexual proclivities. Once a year was enough, and I’d already had my fill.

“Jase is a good boy,” he said as he flipped frantically through the pages on his desk. “Did you practice safe sex?”

“Yes, Dad,” I said, resigned. “The image of you putting a condom on a banana to teach me about gay sex is forever ingrained in my head.”

“Well, a good father teaches his son about the facts of life.”

“You didn’t have to put the banana in your mouth,” I reminded him.

He grinned without looking up. “Bet that kept you from performing fellatio for quite a while.”

“Longer than you’ll know.”

“So what was wrong with this one?”

“What one?”

“Todd. Or maybe Carl.”

I thought for a moment. “He had a cat,” I finally settled on.

He looked up sharply. “But you hate cats,” he whispered.

“Tell me about it. That little fucker got hair all over my clothes.”

“The monster,” he agreed. “So, that was a deal breaker, then?”

I nodded. “Well, that and the fact that I didn’t even bother to remember his name.”

He sighed. “Addy, I’m not getting any younger. I want grandchildren one day.”

I laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible, even if he didn’t have a cat.”

“Why not?” he asked, his face scrunched in thought.

“I’m a man,” I explained carefully. “And so was he.”

“Bah. The nice gay I work with, Charlie, went to Africa or Canada or somewhere with his partner and adopted a baby and brought it home. You could do the same.”

“Why didn’t they just adopt a baby here?” I wondered aloud.

“Because it’s more popular for gays to have ethnic babies.”

“Says who? And I don’t think Canadian qualifies as ethnic.”

“I read it on some gay website.”

“And why were you reading about it on some gay website?”

He squinted at me. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? I told you I wanted grandbabies. How else am I supposed to know how you’re going to get one unless I read about it?”

I stretched, feeling my back pop. “Well, when I decide to go to Africa to adopt a baby, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Duh,” he said, his gravelly voice amused. “I’ll be on the flight with you.”

And he would be too. Too bad that it was never going to happen. But I didn’t tell him that as I couldn’t bring myself to be that mean. My father didn’t deserve it. What he deserved was a loving son who would give him Canadian grandbabies (babies, plural, of course; I know in his head, he pictured six or seven), who would find a partner (never a boyfriend, never a fuck, always a partner; he was very forward-thinking, my dad) and settle down and not have to worry about hiding the fact that he could do what only a handful of the world’s population could do. I allowed myself to have a pity party for the moment, to wallow in remorse. But then it passed, as those things seemed to do. I could no more change myself than he could force me to change.

“What did you need to show me?” I asked, redirecting the topic. I was curious if it had to do with the schematics he’d been focused on since I arrived. My father… well, I didn’t know exactly what my father did. I knew he worked in some capacity for the United States government, working in research and development in some department or maybe in the private sector. What he was researching and developing, I had no idea. He never volunteered information, and I learned never to pry for it. Our whole lives were a secret, so what were a few more? I never got the idea it had anything to do with Elementals, or at least he never indicated it did. His silence about his job never bothered me (or so I told myself), figuring if I needed to know anything, he would tell me. Or, at least I hoped he would. He’d still never explained how he knew so much about my mother and what had happened the night of the fire. He’d never explained how he knew who she worked for, or what her plans had been. He never explained… but I never asked, my own demons of that night still haunting me. I think some part of him knew this, and he attempted to shelter me from the worst of it. Why else had we run across the country and gone into hiding? Why else had we changed our names, our looks, the way we spoke, the way we moved? It was easier not to focus on all that I was still in the dark about.

He brought a finger to his lips as he reached into his desk. He pulled out a small black box and pressed the red button on the top. There was an irritating electronic whine as the machine powered on. He looked back down at the schematic (and I could see now that it was an outline for something) and sighed. His eyes clouded for a moment before he spoke.

“We should be fine now,” he said.

I stood up and picked up the box that whirred as I held it. “Scrambler?” I asked. “It’s a lot smaller than your other one.”

My father nodded. “New tech. A much wider range, almost the whole block. I can’t be too careful right now,” he said, motioning to the scrambler as I set it back down. “I don’t know if anyone is listening in.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m getting paranoid in my old age.”

I wrapped my arm around his waist and hugged him gently. “Dementia is certainly in your foreseeable future,” I agreed.

He hugged me back, lightly smacking the back of my head. I felt his chin rest on top of my head, and it was like I was a child again, and for a moment, the weight of the day lifted from my shoulders. There was no stranger asleep next to me, no Jase wondering what I was waiting for, no dark subway platform with walls that burst into flaming poetry (seriously, could my dreams be any weirder?). There was only my dad and me.

“What’s this?” I asked as he released me, pointing down at the charts before us.

He sighed. “This… this is the future.”

He picked up the diagram and rubbed his hands over the surface, an unreadable expression crossing his face before it left for parts unknown. He looked tired, resigned somehow, and I wondered at it until he spoke again. “It’s called a Suppressor. Rather inelegantly named, but accurate.”

“And what does it suppress?”

“Elementals. Or rather, their abilities.”

A vise gripped my heart, cold and metallic. “What?” I whispered.

He set down the papers and reached out to grip my shoulders. “You know that I have nothing to do with this,” he said sternly. It was not a question.

I brushed his hands away, staring at what my father had called the future. If the scale drawn hastily at the bottom was correct, it would be bigger than the old oak desk I was leaning over. Calculations and shorthand littered the corners, jumbled in their nonsense. I held my hand over the paper, never touching it, an almost inordinate fear caressing my skin. My fingers started to shake and I dropped my hand, hoping my father hadn’t seen.

His eyes were sad as he watched me. There were times when I wondered what he thought of me, his Elemental son, and how different his life would be if I had not been born. I had these moments every so often, these crystal-clear instances of self-deprecation. I never allowed myself to drown in them, but they lurked nonetheless. He wouldn’t be in hiding, that’s for sure, and his wife might still be alive. He would be able to have people call him by his real name. Did he have a family he left behind? I didn’t remember there being any grandparents, any aunts, uncles, cousins. There were still so many secrets between us, buried and waiting for someone to dig them up, expose them to the world. And that’s what scared both of us the most, even though we never vocalized it.

“Where did you get this?” I asked hollowly.

He shrugged. “Can’t say for sure.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

I stepped away, beginning to pace the floor. “Jesus Christ, Dad, of course it matters! You say you have nothing to do with this, and I believe you, but if you have this thing, it has to be for a reason.”

He lowered his eyes and rubbed the schematic again. “I may have accidentally walked out with it without anyone noticing.”

I stopped and stared at my father. “You stole it?” That was unlike my father, or so I’d thought.

“I’d like to think of it as borrowing,” he said defensively.

“From whom?”

“What?”

I scowled at him. “Who’d you borrow it from?”

He looked back up at me, eyes stern. “You know I can’t tell you that, Addy. It’s for—”

“My own good, I know,” I interrupted. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to decide what my own good is? I’m going to be twenty-five in a month, for Christ’s sake. I’m not some little kid that you have to hide anymore. I can take care of myself.” I gripped the edge of the desk, feeling nauseous and hot. I closed my eyes and the flare blossomed in the dark. I pushed it away.

My father sighed. “Addy, I know you’re grown now, but you’re still my son.” He reached over and laid his palm over the back of my hand. I wondered if he could feel the heat that was rising from within me. “I don’t care how old you get, a father’s job is never done. As long as I have a breath in my body, I will fight to keep you safe.”

I slid my hand out from under his, knowing it hurt him, but unable to stop myself. “Dad, I can’t hide forever. I won’t.”

“Are you out of your mind?” he suddenly shouted. He’d never raised his voice at me before, but still I didn’t flinch. Today had been a weird day, and this seemed perfectly fitting with events so far. “If they found out about you, if your mother’s associates knew you were still alive, that you didn’t die in that fire, they would be here already! They would take you away and even I couldn’t get to you then!”

“Who, Dad?” I growled. “Who are these people you’ve always referred to? Why the hell do they care about me? There’s thousands of Elementals in the world, what makes me so goddamn special?”

I saw a shadow cross his eyes. We’d never been at this point before. I’d never been so brazen, so demanding. We were so good at secrets that it caused trepidation when questions were asked. I waited and wondered if what came out of his mouth next would be a lie. Maybe everything I’d been told was a lie.

“You…,” he started, searching for the right words. He raised his hands and covered his eyes, and I felt a shiver roll through me. Was I about to hear a truth? “You,” he said again, “are different, Felix.” The use of my former name caused my head to hang, angry tears stinging my eyes. He hadn’t called me that in so long, it hurt to hear.

“How?” I whispered. He started toward me around the desk, but I shook my head and took a step back. “How?” I demanded.

He stopped, a tremor in his hands. “You have to believe everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you,” he begged. “Everything that I’ve kept hidden, I did to protect you.”

“I’m sick of everyone thinking they know what’s best for me,” I retorted, letting my anger creep into my voice. “I have the right to know what I am.”

When he spoke, his voice was flat: “You are Findo Unum. A Split One. It speaks to the dual nature of your Elemental abilities. Fire and wind.”

I rubbed the tears from my eyes. “So? There have to be others.”

He hesitated, checking his words before he spoke. “As far as I know, you are the only one.”

I lowered my hands and stared at him incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I snarled at him. “Elementals are everywhere! Are you saying nobody can control more than one?”

“As far as we know.”

This stopped me cold. “We?” I repeated softly.

He realized he had slipped up, and his brow furrowed as he looked away from me again. “You know I can’t talk about that, Addy.”

“Maybe it’s time you started.”

He shook his head. “For you to be safe, I can’t.” He hesitated again. “Not yet.”

“When?”

“I hope you never find out!” he exhaled angrily. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you’d be in if you were discovered? I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that your secret needs to be kept, that you cannot be exposed. But things are starting to happen now that are beyond my control. Look at the fucking ERA! The fucking Suppressor!” He slammed his fists down on the schematic, the crack echoing dully through the room. “This is how they’re going to ensure cooperation of the Elementals.”

“How?” I asked.

He picked up the plans and shoved them at me. They fluttered through the air, and I let them fall on the ground. “It sends out electromagnetic pulses designed explicitly to interfere with an Elemental’s genetics. Your powers are hardwired into your genes, your DNA, and this disrupts that connection by interfering with the neuromuscular transmitters in your body, rendering your abilities null while you are within range.” He started to pace the floor. “They’ve tested it on weaker Elementals, and some have been killed in the process. But even with the fear of what you all are capable of, they can’t risk the extermination of your kind. I would say it’s strictly for humanitarian reasons, but more and more I believe it is politically motivated, a grab for power.”

“To what end?” I asked, already knowing his response.

“If they can control your powers, then they can control you. Can you imagine if a country had an army of Elementals at its disposal? People who could burn the air out of the sky, people who could cause earthquakes? Tsunamis? Imagine a populace that was a threat against our way of life. Imagine if we entered another war with these Elementals as soldiers on the battlefield! There would be no chance at survival.”

“The task forces,” I whispered.

He looked at me sharply. “What did you say?”

Shit. “Jase told me that Mayor Sampson is putting together special teams for when the ERA is enacted. He said it was supposed to help the transition. I bet they’re going to use that goddamn machine.”

He looked at me in horror. “He’s not helping them, is he?”

I shook my head. “Although I don’t know how much longer he’ll have a choice in the matter.”

My father walked toward me, and this time I didn’t back away. “Addy,” he said gently, “you are the most important thing in my life. I can’t lose that.” For the second time in a day, a man I loved had said those words to me, that I couldn’t be lost. I supposed it should have weighed on me, but a dull warmth began to spread in my stomach, having nothing to do with the Elemental fire I carried within me. It grew because of my father.

Before I could stop myself, I whispered two words I had read in my subway dream: “Animo Dimidio.” I was stunned when my father recoiled from me, fear dawning in his eyes.

“Where did you hear that?” he asked, his voice pained.

“What does it mean?” I challenged.

He watched me for a moment, his eyes molten, and then walked and stood before me, his frame dwarfing mine. He reached down and tugged at the chain around my neck until the medallion fell out of my shirt. He held it gently in his hands, twisting it to gaze at either side. Suddenly I wished I had never come to his house, never opened my mouth and brought out this look that rested on his face. He was scared, and I was the cause. I had to get out of there.

“I thought I had more time,” he whispered, entranced as the ensign twisted in the light.

I was struck dumb as a thought entered my head. “Dad, do you know what this means?” I asked, referring to the medallion. “Do you know who gave this to me?”

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the ringing phone. He dropped the necklace against my chest and moved away, flipping a switch on the scrambler as he picked up his cell phone off the desk. “Go,” he ordered. “What? When? Shit, I’ll be right there. No, no. Don’t start without me.” He flipped the phone closed and inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. He turned back to me, his eyes set.

“Saved by the phone, huh, Dad?”

“Addy,” he started, then stopped. He shook his head. “I have to go.”

“Fine,” I ground out, spinning toward the hallway. I stopped when he called my name. “What!” I barked, not bothering to turn around.

“You won’t stop now, will you? Now that you know… certain things, you won’t stop.”

“Stop what? Asking questions? Finally finding out what you’ve kept from me?”

“Yes.”

“No, Dad. I won’t stop. Not now.”

“Then promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“That you’ll give me time to prepare. Give me… two weeks. Give me fourteen days, and I promise I will tell you all I know.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

I nodded tightly. “See you in two weeks, Dad.”

I walked out of the room.

Chapter 2

Come on baby, light my fire.

—Jim Morrison

I WALKED into the Cantina a little after seven that night, wishing I could be curled up at home but loath to break my promise to Jase. The large bar was filled with quiet conversation, the lights muted and low. I waved at the bartender, Terry, as I pushed my way to the back of the bar, finding Jase already occupying what we thought of as our table. He grinned up at me and nodded to the empty chair across from him, our beer of choice waiting for me, the condensation on the bottle catching the lights from the bar and glistening softly.

“You look better,” he mused.

“Well, a shower will do that for you,” I told him. “And a nap.”

He grinned at me. “Maybe you should do that more often.”

“Har, har,” I said, taking a long pull from the bottle. It was cold and crisp and it burned my throat. “Been waiting long?”

Jase shook his head. “I thought you were going to be late, so I just got here.”

“Why would I be late?” I scowled at him.

“Isn’t that what homos do? The whole ‘fashionably late’ thing.”

“Seriously, you trying out your routine on me?” I looked around wildly. “It’s not open mic night, is it?”

“I’m hilarious and you love it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, big man.”

“How’s your Dad?”

Oh, you know, I thought. He stole plans from somewhere that are going to help you catch the Big Bad Elementals. He told me I’m the only person in the world that has two different abilities, calling me Findo Unum or some other bullshit. It’s Latin, of course, like everything else. I think he works for some pretty hardcore people, but I can’t decide which side he’s on. And he knows way more that he’s not telling me, but he promised to. I’m not holding my breath.

“He’s good,” I said. “He said you’re a ‘good boy’.”

Jase shrugged. “I know. About what?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t. That’s why I asked.”

“About the whole… sex thing.”

He looked at me sympathetically. “The banana thing again?”

I groaned. “I’ve got the most fucked-up dad in the world. What parent wants to teach their kids about gay sex?” I glared suspiciously at Jason. “You know, I remember when I came out to him, he took it just as well as you did.”

“That’s because we’re awesome.”

“Or something,” I grumbled.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

He pointed at my chest. “Playing with that damn necklace. You only do that when you’re upset.”

I looked down and saw I had twisted the long chain in my hand, twirling it around in my fingers. I dropped it back into my shirt and took another swig of my beer. He watched me. “What?” I snapped at him.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. “You still pissed at me? About earlier?”

I thought for a moment. “No.”

“Yes, you are.” Jesus, he knew me way too well.

“Maybe a little. But it’s not your deal, it’s mine. I’ll get over it. I always do.” The words came out more bitter than I intended, and I winced.

“See that you do,” he ordered softly. “What’s the point in having a gay best friend if they’re all surly and mean?”

“I’m not surly and mean!” I almost shouted.

Jason laughed and reached across the table, cuffing my ear and tugging it gently. For a super-macho straight guy, he was never afraid to show his affection for me in public. I think he knew that if anyone said anything about it, he could just fucking knock their teeth in. Without meaning to, I sighed and leaned into the touch. It felt good, comforting. Like home.

“That’s better,” he teased as he dropped his hand.

“What about you?” I asked, resting my head in my hands, watching him. “You feeling better? You were kind of pissy earlier today.”

“Nothing a couple of hours with you won’t fix,” he said, batting his eyelashes at me.

“Careful,” I warned him. “Keep that up, and I might be fixing to take you home with me.”

“We live a block away from each other,” he reminded me. “We’re going that way together anyway.”

“Cocktease,” I mumbled.

His eyes widened. “Me? I’ll have you know that I put out on the first date.”

“Uh-huh. Notice how giddy I am at the prospect. And this is like our four thousandth date.”

“Ah, memories,” he said, looking wistfully into the distance. “Where would I be without you?” he asked, reaching over and rubbing my head.

“Probably bored and lonely and fat,” I said. “And balding.”

“Too right.”

The conversation lulled, but it was comfortable, as it always was with him. He understood that words didn’t always need to be said, that sometimes just sitting near each other and thinking our own thoughts was good enough. It was one of the reasons I kept him around, knowing he got me more than anyone else. With him, there were no secrets (at least that he kept from me), there was no ulterior motive that had yet to be revealed. With Jase and me, what you saw was what you got. Any residual anger I felt then just slipped away, as I knew it would have eventually. The great thing about having a best friend is that it’s impossible to stay mad at them for long. There were times when we didn’t see each other for weeks, and usually it was my doing, but I never failed to call or text him daily, just to let him know I was alive. He always picked up the phone when I called, when I was anxious to hear his voice. I can’t say I did the same for him. He was too good for someone like me. He deserved better. But for some reason, he was mine.

I sighed. “I love you, you know.”

He grinned, a lazy smile that was bright enough to light the world. “Oh, I know,” he said.

“Good.”

He looked at me affectionately for a moment, and then his eyes darted above my head to the bar behind me. He chuckled. “And it begins.”

“What?”

“Some guy the size of a brick shit house hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked in.”

“How do you know he’s not staring at you?” I asked, resisting the urge to turn around. Interest peeked its head out quietly, but I shoved it away.

“Because I can tell. He looks like your type too.”

“Is he hot?”

“I wouldn’t fuck him,” Jase confided.

“Well, at least we know he doesn’t have boobs, then.”

“That would be weird, wouldn’t it? You get this big ol’ tough guy home and you take off his shirt and a pair of bouncy titties fall out.”

I shuddered. “That’s disgusting. What if you took a hot chick home and she had balls?”

He thought for a moment. “Would she have a cock and balls or a pussy and balls?”

“Pussy and balls.”

He shook his head. “Still couldn’t do it.”

“Tell me when I can look,” I said to him, lowering my voice even though the man at the bar wouldn’t be able to hear us.

He laughed. “Okay. Wait… wait… wait…. Okay, he’s texting on his phone. Look now.”

I swiveled my head, looking casually over my shoulder. And then everything changed.

For a moment, I couldn’t see who he was talking about. I saw Terry mixing another drink behind the bar with a flirting smile as he spoke with a blonde whose dress could not have been legal to wear out in public. I saw a couple of suits drinking shots of tequila, their drunken laughter spilling out over the noise of the crowd. A woman pulled a cigarette out of her purse as she rose from her seat, walking toward the smoking patio. An old man slipped a quarter into the jukebox, and some old familiar tune wafted out from the ancient machine.

And then I saw him, hidden partially in shadows at the edge of the bar, his back to the mirrored wall. His head was down, concentrating on his phone as he texted. His dark hair was buzzed short like mine, sideburns long and sleek. The light from his phone illuminated his face, and I felt my heart stutter in a way it had never done before. He was darkly tanned, the black beard on his face dense and wonderful. Even from across the bar, I could see his eyes, glowing in the light from his phone, and I knew they were blue, a deep, dark ocean blue. He bit his thick bottom lip in concentration, his tongue sliding out briefly. My eyes bulged as I stared down the rest of him. He was huge, even bigger than Jase, who I could hear snorting behind me as my shoulders tensed. I would have put the stranger at six-five, at least, but it was his circumference that was impressive. Even through the tailored suit I could see just how massive he was, the fabric at the shoulders straining as his arms moved, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. His chest pulled against the shirt, a small tuft of black hair visible through the two open buttons at the top. He was big and gorgeous, and there was something about him that felt like a memory, something that felt just out of reach, flitting around on the tip of my tongue. And then, without warning, like he could feel me watching him, he looked up, straight at me.

Something happened then, something that to this day I’ve never really been able to explain all that well. I could hear the noise of the bar fade around me, becoming white and unimportant, buzzing gently in the background. The world as I knew it ceased to be, and I briefly closed my eyes and was shocked to see the flare in my chest burst brightly through the darkness. I wrestled with it, attempting to shove it back down before I lit the bar on fire. I’d never had a moment like that before in my life, a moment where I felt it was possible that the fire would come out of me without being called. I could feel the table where my hands rested begin to warm. I brought the beer bottle in my right hand down to my lap, feeling the liquid inside begin to bubble as it heated. I struggled to control the flash, and just when I thought I would have to run, to get the fuck out before I exploded, I felt a calm come over me and the flare was gone, the wind in my head was gone, and there was only peace. I opened my eyes again and found the other man still watching me, taking in a ragged breath as I did the same. It was too much. It was too fast.

“Jesus Christ,” I gasped as I whirled around to face Jase.

“What the hell, Addy?” he asked, his voice filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I breathed.

“Do you know that fucking guy?” he growled. “Did he do something to you? I’m going to kick his goddamn ass.”

I grabbed his arm as he started to rise. “No,” I said forcefully. “I don’t know who he is. He just looked like… like someone I knew once. It just shocked me, is all.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked me, still staring suspiciously over my head.

“I’m fine,” I told him again, even though I didn’t feel fine. I felt smacked across the face, I felt like I wanted to burn the world down. I wanted to get up and walk across the bar and crawl in the stranger’s big lap and let his arms wrap around me as I ground my ass onto his cock. I wanted to taste his skin, warm and alive under my tongue. I wanted to be possessed by him. I grew hard at the thought, a dull, painful ache that turned into steel, and I stood quickly to do exactly what I was thinking of doing. My heart raced, my blood boiled, the chain around my neck and the ensign on my chest felt like they were on fire. I felt like I was on fire. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck and was absorbed into the collar of my coat. I knocked over the beer bottle, the contents spilling onto the table. I sat back down roughly in my seat.

“Addy!” Jase growled. He reached over and grabbed napkins out of the dispenser, blotting them over the spilled beer. His forehead scrunched. “Your beer got warm fast. I thought it was cold when I bought it for you.”

I nodded, not really hearing what he was saying. I could feel the eyes of the man at the bar on the back of my head, and it took all my strength not to turn around and stare back. Flashes in my head burst through the carefully maintained walls, all dirty and surreal: I was bent over a table in the middle of a field the color of ice while he fucked me in the ass; I rode him as he lay sprawled on a deep red stone in an ancient forest that was on fire, his big hands reaching up and tweaking my nipples, my head thrown back in a state of shock; his arms wrapped around my chest on a beach with white sand, his tongue trailing over the shell of my ear as his beard scraped hotly over my neck, the surf pounding in my bones. I shook my head, sweeping the bizarre porno away before it could go any further. I felt heavy, anchored to this world in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I was terrified and aroused. Devastated.

I almost leapt out of my skin when Jase laid his hand over mine. I lifted my eyes to his and reality seeped back into being. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, his eyes darting over my shoulder, watching the stranger at the bar angrily before returning to me. He softened his expression as he watched me, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on my arm.

“Take me home,” I whispered.

He nodded, raising his face again. His eyes widened slightly, his jaw twitched. I turned slowly and saw the man was gone, the space where he’d been now empty, a beer bottle the only sign he’d ever existed. Jase stood and gripped my arm, forcing me to my feet. He dragged me behind him as he pushed his way through the crowd. He opened the door, and a cold wind whipped at our faces, stinging my eyes and nose. Jason pulled me close to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he led the way home.

Moments later, he asked the question I’d been thinking since we’d left the bar. “Addy, what the hell was that?”

I shook my head, eyes cast at our feet. He pulled me closer.

I WOKE the next morning as my alarm blared, a forgotten dream chasing me as I struggled to consciousness. “Shit,” I whispered.

The routine was always the same: my alarm blared at 5:30 a.m. and I hated it. I dragged myself to the tiny bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror, grimacing at my sleep-lined face. I turned on the shower, hot as I could stand it. I showered. I stopped showering. I looked in the mirror again. I shaved. I brushed my teeth. I flossed. I fixed my hair. I put on deodorant.

I walked back to my bedroom and threw open my closet, considering. I grabbed dress pants. A dress shirt. Shoes. A belt. A tie. Socks. Underwear. I looked at myself in the mirror again. By then, I could always smell the coffee in the kitchenette.

I went back to the bathroom, making sure I looked all right. I put on a splash of cologne. I straightened my tie. I left the bathroom.

Coffee, black. I checked my phone, I listened to talk radio, which played softly in the background. I ate an apple. I threw the core away. I finished my coffee. I went back to the bathroom. Brushed my teeth again. Mouthwash. Spit. One last check in the mirror.

It was my routine. It was what I did every weekday morning; you could set a watch by it. Up by five thirty, out the door by six fifteen.

But today was different. I showered, yes, I dressed, oh yes, but every thought I had was occupied by the man in the bar. The way he moved, the way he breathed. His face in the cell phone glow. His strong jaw, that hint of a smile when he’d caught me staring. The fire in my hands and heart. As I stared at myself in the mirror for that last morning check, I saw my eyes were blown wide, my lip quivering. “Get it together,” I growled. “Get it together now.” The man in the mirror almost refused, but then his eyes lowered, his face softened. He obeyed because he was me. I left the bathroom.

I put my shoes in my messenger bag and slid my snow boots on. I filled a Potio’s travel mug with coffee. I turned off the coffee maker. I grabbed my keys. I turned off the lights. I closed the door behind me. I locked the door and swore to forget about him. I would never see him again. The city was just too big. He was gone forever.

I went to work.

I RODE the elevator to the fifty-second floor of the Cantio Building, where I worked as quickly and quietly as possible as an insurance claims rep for an auto insurance company. It was a job, and it paid reasonably well, and I never had to see the people I dealt with face to face unless they sued us, so I was okay with it. Without a college degree, it was a safe option. It was mundane, it was boring, and much to my chagrin, I was actually very good at it. I dealt with people every day who got hurt, families grieving over loved ones who had died in accidents. I paid them money to go away and mourn in financial peace. Cynicism reigned supreme.

I entered the office and was accosted immediately by the only other friend I had in the world, Amy Star. We’d become friends on her first day, a year before, when I’d told her I knew a drag queen that had her same name. She’d told me she had a gerbil named Addy. Kismet, that. She followed me around like a lost puppy. Jase thought she had a crush on me. I told him that was gross.

“Addy,” she said, smiling happily. Her eyes looked even warmer than normal. She was really happy to see me for some damn reason. I mustered up a smile and waved halfheartedly as she trailed me to my desk. “How was your weekend?” she whispered conspiratorially, as if she knew something I didn’t.

I sat down in my properly sanctioned ergonomic chair and flipped on the computer monitor in front of me. “Fine,” I muttered, reviewing my calendar for the week and seeing that it sucked ass. I was going to be busy. That was fine, though. I wouldn’t have time to think of him.

“What did you do?” she asked, sitting on the edge of my desk, her back resting against the cubicle wall.

“This and that,” I hedged.

“I tried calling you,” she said.

I winced. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t hear my phone.” Which was a lie. She had called me when I was on the prowl on Saturday night. Not even the promise of someone who knew me would have distracted me that night.

“Liar,” she said fondly. I grinned sheepishly at her, and she smiled back. The guys in the office were smitten with the tiny girl in front of me. She was blonde and stacked, and her arms were bigger than mine. She was hot and she knew it but didn’t let it bother her. Men drooled over her, and she let them. She never showed interest in anyone except me. We’d clearly drawn the boundaries of our relationship when I’d told her I liked to sit on dick. Crass, to be sure, but it got the point across. She’d smiled at me sweetly and said she wouldn’t have it any other way. She, like Jase, became my shadow.

“Really.” I smiled at her now.

“Where were you last night?” she asked, her face innocent.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “No reason.”

“Uh-huh. I was out with Jase for a beer.”

“Oh, yeah? How’d that go?”

A stranger turned me inside out. “Fine.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah. One.”

She looked like she was going to say something else, but then she shook her head.

“What?” I asked, exasperated.

“Lunch it is,” she said, jumping off my desk. She skipped away.

THE morning went by fast, a blur of phone calls and meetings. I didn’t even think of the big stranger in the bar until I realized I hadn’t thought of the big stranger in the bar and then I couldn’t get him out of my head. I became distracted, careless. I accidentally wrote a million-dollar check that was meant to be only a thousand. I broke my computer by spilling coffee on the hard drive. The IT guys came and scowled at me, and I scowled back. Stupid IT guys.

Amy came for me at one, and we rode the elevator down, gossiping about how someone had just gotten fired for embezzling by writing checks to himself. The idiot. We stepped out into the slush-filled streets. She wanted a hot dog. I wanted coffee. She said I was too skinny. I told her to go fuck herself. She laughed and laughed.

The rest of the day was gone before I knew it. People began to leave, waving good-bye and heading for the elevators. I reached up to switch off my desk light, and Amy appeared again.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed, standing and stretching.

As we left the Cantio Building, Amy hooked her arm in mine, and we headed for the subway. She talked and I pretended to listen. The dirty snow crunched beneath my feet. A homeless man asked for change. Amy gave him a twenty, and he smiled. I rolled my eyes.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked as we waited for the train. I almost didn’t hear her, staring around the subway platform and waiting for something to happen. I’d done this same thing this morning.

“Going home and going to bed,” I said, yawning.

“Not going out or anything?” Her eyes darted around at the crowd, watching everyone but me.

I chuckled. “What are you looking for?”

“Just people watching,” she said, staring at a frumpy guy in a black suit. “So you didn’t answer my question.”

“I did too. I’m going home.”

“Ah! The train’s here!” she exclaimed, pulling me to my feet.

“Why are you acting so weird?” I asked, almost tripping over a trash can.

Amy glanced over her shoulder. “Weird? I’m not acting weird.”

I rolled my eyes and let her drag me onto the train. She didn’t let go until I got off at my stop. “Call me if you’re going out tonight,” she called after me as the doors shut. I waved at her, noticing once again how she was staring at everyone but me. She was so weird.

YOU have to believe me when I say that I intended to stay home that night. I curled up on my couch, sipping soup out of a cup, watching the first season of Lost for the millionth time. I sighed as Sawyer came on the screen again, shirtless, as he was prone to be. He snarled his way across a beach, and I had no intention of leaving.

Then the episode ended, and I started another one and switched off the lamp next to the couch. I tried to focus, I really did. I should have been honest with myself, knowing where my mind was headed. I tried to stop it, but I was back in the Cantina again, the big stranger sitting against the wall. I closed my eyes and let the scene play out. He watched me watching him. Jase was gone, the other patrons were gone, no music from the jukebox, no tinkle of glasses. And then he rose from his seat and walked toward me. I held my breath as he reached me, reached for me, his hand calloused and rough. His fingertips grazed the side of my cheek, a ghost of a caress that I leaned my whole body into. He stared into my eyes and opened his mouth and said, “Previously, on Lost.”

I snapped awake. There was no bar, there was no stranger; there was only congealed soup that I’d managed to spill on my chest as I had drifted off. The show continued to play. My dick was hard. I pressed down on it and gasped. Shit.

I got up and took a shower. I told myself it was stupid to be considering going out. It was almost nine now, and I had to get up and work in the morning. I was cranky when I didn’t get enough sleep. But my cock stayed hard. I jerked it a few times with a soapy hand and closed my eyes and it became his hand. I came instantly.

I thought that should be enough. I got out of the shower and slumped onto my bed. I turned off the lights. I tossed and turned, trying to find some position that would allow me to sleep. I closed my eyes and he was there. I opened my eyes, and the afterimage danced across my ceiling. I growled. I sat up. I put my feet on the floor.

“No,” I said aloud. “I am going to sleep.”

Are you? the voice in my head asked.

“Yes, I am. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

And you’re so tired, right?

“Right. I was out all weekend. I can’t keep going out.”

Exactly. You’ll age prematurely, and then no one will want you.

“That’s a mean thing to say.”

Yeah, the truth hurts.

“Plus, I already jerked off. I don’t need anything else.”

Oh yeah, you’re not young, dumb, and full of come anymore. You’re grown up.

“Exactly.”

And you’re tired.

“Right.”

Well, then, why are you getting dressed?

“Go away.”

It chuckled.

I put on dark jeans that were worn and fit like a second skin, the knees busted out. A shirt went over my head, sleek and white. Black hooded jacket. Scarf. Done.

I WALKED down the street, nearing Liquid, my main hunting ground. There was a long line out the front, even for a Monday, but the bouncer waved me in. I ignored the protests of those standing out in the cold. Fucking people hadn’t earned their right to get in like I could.

I was struck by a blast of warm air, the loud thump of bass from a dance song that sounded like all the others. Men writhed on the floor, some shirtless, others wishing they had the balls to go shirtless. Woman stood on the side, watching, hoping. Someone grabbed my ass as I passed, and I tossed a flirtatious smile but kept on walking. Someone else called out to me, and I waved but didn’t stop. I reached the bar.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the bartender asked, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “It’s Monday.”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He leered at me. “I get off in an hour. Maybe I could help you with that.”

I grinned at him. “But what if it ended badly between us? Who else would get me my beer like you do? You know exactly how I like it.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “One of these days, Addy. You and me is going to happen one of these days.” He handed me a beer as I threw him a bill.

“Maybe,” I said, looking him up and down. “Until then.” I tipped the bottle to him as he scowled, and then I left the bar.

I prowled the dark corners, watching, hunting. Men, to me, were a beautiful thing, no matter what they looked like. The way they carried themselves—some cocky, some shy—was wonderful. I couldn’t help if I had a type, though. I glanced over the small ones, the thin ones, the fat ones, the ones that I knew couldn’t do anything for me. I could appreciate their individual beauty, yes, but it was cold and methodical. I was looking for something specific. Bingo.

He was about the same size as Jase, which meant he towered over me. He stood with a group of his friends, laughing and smiling. White, even teeth. Snug T-shirt that showed off his arms and chest. As if he could feel me staring at him, he glanced my direction. I gave him a lazy smile, which he returned. He glanced away, but he’d been hooked, his eyes darting back to mine every few seconds. He preened under my gaze, casually flexing his arms, stretching so his shirt rode up, flashing abs that looked like fun. He knew he’d been caught when I rolled my eyes at him. I wondered if it would be slutty to have him suck me off in the bathroom. I didn’t want to wake up earlier than I had to and I didn’t want to take him home.

He excused himself from his friends as he walked over to me. They whispered behind him, grinning at his back. He stood in front me and casually set his drink on the table.

“Were you posing?” I asked him, amused.

“Did you like it?” he responded, his voice rising above the music.

I shrugged. “Depends.”

He cocked his head at me, his dark features slack. “On?”

“If you liked me watching you.”

He chuckled. “I’m here, ain’t I?”

“That you are. Want to dance?” I grabbed his hand, not waiting for a response. He gulped his drink down and slammed it on the table and jerked me to the dance floor. The strobe lights flashed, the bass deepened, and I showed him that I could move. My hips rubbed against his as I pressed my hands into his stomach, showing him how hard I was. He gasped quietly, and I smiled up at him and ground harder. People began to watch us, but I didn’t care. Some knew me by sight, I had fucked others (more than I cared to count), but they were all gone because, for at least this night, I was focused on the random pick-up in front of me.

“What’s your name?” he shouted down at me.

“Addy.”

“I’m Dave.”

“That’s neat,” I told him, palming his dick through his jeans. He shivered under my hands.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

“No, he doesn’t,” a voice growled from behind me. Shivers ran down my spine.

I turned, and even before I got all the way around, I knew it would be him. My heart was in my throat as I saw the stranger from the night before standing in front of me, magnificently big and angry. He glared down at me, his jaw twitching, his eyes so black that I thought it must be a trick of the flashing strobe light. He was wearing an old leather jacket that was contoured to his body. Black jeans hugged his narrow waist, the legs beneath massive and solid. Scuffed motorcycle boots with tarnished buckles. My breath caught as I stared at him. He was fucking hot.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Random Dave behind me asked, moving to press against my ass, his erection rubbing the small of my back.

“I….” Words escaped me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

He tore his gaze away from mine and glared at the guy behind me. “I’m the one who’s telling you to leave,” he said harshly. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Hey, man, I think we should let the little guy decide who—”

The man who had been haunting me suddenly reached out and grabbed my arms, twisting me so my back was against his chest. He wrapped one massive arm around my body possessively, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the rumble in his chest as he snarled at Random Dave: “He’s already made up his fucking mind, so get the hell out of here before I make you leave.”

Random Dave looked like he was going to say something, and I felt the man behind me tense. Dave thought better of it and stalked off, muttering. I watched him go, not daring to turn around, not wanting to move. I could hear the big guy mumbling something darkly as he held me. What the hell is going on? I thought wildly.

He let me go and I whimpered, hating the sound I made but unable stop myself as my body cried out at the absence of his warmth. It lasted only a moment before his hand came onto my shoulders and he steered me to a dark corner of the club, away from the crowd, away from the music.

“Wait here,” he said, depositing me onto a seat. I didn’t dare disobey. He left me then, and I watched him go, willing my heart to slow, my breaths to deepen. My hands felt clammy, and I closed my eyes. It was black behind my eyelids, and then that flare occurred, the one I had always known. But it was different: brighter, harsher. I opened my eyes again, and he stood in front of me, his face level with mine, inches away as he leaned on the table. He studied me, his eyes twitching as they took in my face. I did the same. His eyes were so blue and so big, his jaw strong. He licked his lips, and I followed the trail of his tongue, my mouth suddenly dry. He held out a bottle of water, and I gulped it down, never taking my eyes off him.

“Who are you?” I whispered, wiping my arm across my lips.

“Who do you think I am?” he asked, a small smile curving his lips.

“I think you’re a stalker.”

“How’s that now?” he asked, taking the water bottle from my hands and drinking from it, a move so intimate and daring that I felt numb. He pulled the bottle from his lips and held it out to me. I drank again. I could almost taste him. He reached up and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb. It took all I had not to pull it into my mouth.

“Last night and now here you are,” I told him.

“Here I am,” he agreed. He smiled again, flashing teeth. He looked like a shark.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Why are you following me?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Who said I was following you?”

“You chased that guy away.”

“That guy?” he scoffed. “You’re welcome. He shouldn’t have been on you like that.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Excuse me? Who the fuck are you to say that? What gives you the right?”

He grabbed my chin gently in his hand and shook it gently, side to side. I shivered. “I have every right. You can trust me on that.”

I jerked my head away. “You don’t own me.”

“Yet.”

Yet? Asshole. “Who are you?” I asked again.

“In a minute,” he said. “First, there’s something you should know.”

“What?”

He leaned in close, and I thought he was going to kiss me. “After tonight, you’re not to come back here again,” he whispered harshly in my ear, his voice like gravel, his hot breath tickling my neck. “You’re not going to any place like this again.”

I pulled back sharply. “I’ll go wherever the hell I want,” I snarled at him. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You’d be surprised what I am capable of,” he replied, his eyes flashing.

“Oh yeah, big guy? You don’t fucking scare me.” I stood, puffing out my chest, and began to move around him. For a moment I thought he was going to let me go, and I grinned to myself sickly as I realized I hated the thought that he would actually let me walk away. I was almost past him when he reached out and gripped my arm, hard enough that I was sure there would be bruises there tomorrow.

“Sit down,” he ordered. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Asshole.”

Surprisingly, he looked hurt. “I am not!”

“What do you want with me?” I asked him, my fingers twitching to touch him. I wanted him to grab me again, to rough me up a little bit. I wanted him to snarl in my face again. I was a sick, sick human being.

“I’ve had enough,” he said darkly.

I stared blankly at him. “Of what?”

He frowned at me before waving his hands around. “I’m done with you coming to places like this, seeing you whore yourself out to whatever wants to stick its dick in you.”

“Whore?” I seethed.

“Yeah,” he spat at me. “You walk around like you own the goddamn place, and every fucker drops to his knees, waiting for you to pick him.”

“Wow, jealous much? Or are you just concerned for my well-being?”

“I’m not jealous,” he said jealously. “You’re just not going to do that anymore.”

“I’m not?” I asked, unable to hold back my smile.

“No,” he growled.

“So it sounds like you’ve been stalking—I mean watching—me for a long time.”

He popped his knuckles. “You could say that.”

“So if I’m not coming here anymore, where am I going?”

“You think you’re so fucking cute, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I do. Answer the question.” My hands felt hot.

He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his head. I wanted to touch him there too. I almost did, but thought better of it. Asshole hadn’t even told me his name.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, annoyed.

“Oh, am I now? When was this decided?”

“A long time ago.”

“By who?”

“Never mind that. Can we leave now?”

I wasn’t going with him, but he didn’t know that yet. “Where?”

“Home.”

“My home or your home?”

“We aren’t going to your apartment. It’s too small and there are things we have to talk about.”

I felt cold then. “How do you know where I live?”

“I’ve been stalking you,” he reminded me.

“That’s… fascinating,” I said. I looked down at my watch. “Oops, look at the time. I forgot I left my iron on in the oven. Gotta go take care of that.” I stood but immediately sat back down when his hand came to my shoulder, the grip biting.

“We’re not done yet,” he barked at me.

I smiled at him. “We are,” I assured him. “I think you might be crazy.”

A grin split his face. “Oh, I have been,” he said. “But I think that’s all going to change now.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Because of you,” he said, his words slow, as if I were feeble-minded.

“Me?” The conversation was getting weirder and weirder, and the disquiet I felt was almost nauseating, but for the life of me, I couldn’t take my eyes off the man across from me. I drank my fill of him, wondering just how long he had been watching me, how the hell he knew where I lived, why he felt so familiar. But all of those questions were shoved aside when I thought it was imperative I see him again. His hand had dropped from my shoulder to my forearm, holding it tightly, and I got the impression it was not to keep me from leaving, but to show his dominance over me. The thought made my head ache.

“Yes, you. You’re coming home with me now. I’ve waited way too goddamn long for this and I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he said, squeezing my arm.

He’s dangerous, I thought, but that excited me even more. “Ever?” I teased. “What happens when I have to go to work?”

“You’re not going back to work,” he said seriously. “There are things we have to do, and you won’t have time for it.”

“Uh-huh. And how would I make money, then? I have to pay rent somehow.”

“I have money,” he said, appearing almost insulted. “And you don’t have to worry about rent anymore. I told you, you’re staying with me.”

Okay, so dangerous and insane. “So I’ll be… what? Your kept boy?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever you need to call yourself to help you sleep at night, that’s fine. Just as long as you know you’re sleeping next to me.”

“You’re weird.”

“I am not.” His smile returned.

“Oh, you are,” I promised him. “Very weird. Look, this has been fun—pretending or role-playing or whatever this was—but I’ve got to go home. I’m tired.”

His eyes grew sad. “You’re really not going with me?”

“No,” I said as I patted his arm. “But it was fun to play, right?”

“Felix, I don’t think you understand. You may not remember—”

“What did you just call me?” I asked as my vision tunneled and my stomach turned. Dangerous and insane suddenly seemed like an understatement, and for the first time the man before me, hot as fuck and still holding my arm, became someone to fear. How he had found me and what he wanted were background to how the hell do I get out of here? I eyed the exit over his shoulder, calculated how long it would take for me to get there, scared it might have come down to getting Elemental on his ass if he didn’t let me go.

“Felix,” he said again, and I looked at him. His eyes were warm and there was knowledge there, like he knew everything I couldn’t tell anyone. My breath caught in my throat. Regardless of my fear, regardless of my desire to vacate the premises, my body still reacted to him, longing to do everything he’d said. It was betraying me, and I hated myself for it. “I’ve waited so long to see you again,” he said, his voice cracking. He reached up and tenderly cupped my cheek. I gasped as I was betrayed again, leaning into his touch. “It was killing me,” he rumbled. I did nothing to stop him as he reached around to the back of my head, pulling my forehead against his. He breathed in as I breathed out. His pupils were dilated. My hands felt hot, the flare bursting in my chest. What the hell is happening to me? I thought as I shuddered against him.

“Are you cold?” he asked, never taking his eyes off mine.

“No,” I told him honestly.

His fingers rubbed the back of my neck and tensed when they touched the chain. His eyes widened and he pulled back, reaching around the front of me, pulling the necklace out from under my shirt. The smile he gave me when he touched the medallion was almost my undoing.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“I am your Iuratum Cor, Felix. And you are mine in return.” He stretched out my shirt collar gently and dropped the ensign back onto my chest. He patted it as he smiled at me.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that mean?” I asked, hoping my voice would not betray the chill I felt at the words he spoke.

“Can we get out of here now?” he growled at me, his voice heated. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore here. We need to go home.”

“I’m still thirsty,” I told him. “Can you get me another bottle of water?”

“And then we go,” he insisted.

I smiled at him. “Yes, and then we go.”

As soon as his back was turned, I stood up from my chair and walked along the wall to the edge of the dance floor, the opposite way from the bar. I pushed my way through the crowd and was almost to the door when a hand grabbed my arm. My heart quickened as I turned, knowing it would be him, and that I would go with him wherever he asked.

But it wasn’t him. It was Random Guy. Dave. “Where you running off to?” he asked.

I shook my arm loose. “Home,” I said. “Bye.”

He grabbed my arm again. “Want company?” he drawled, deep and sexy. Any other time I would have said yes right then.

“That’s sweet, but no thanks. I forgot I have things to do.” I smiled at him and turned to leave.

“Asshole,” he called after me.

I waved and left the bar.

AND wouldn’t you know, there wasn’t a single taxi out front. I looked left and right and decided to go right. It was more brightly lit and led to other streets that would have cabs. I took off at a quick pace, hoping to put enough distance between me and the bar before the big guy knew I was gone. I rounded a corner and walked faster.

Only then did I allow myself to release the breath I had been holding. My shoulders slumped, and I staggered against the wall of a building that looked a hundred years old. I felt empty and hollow, bright and alive. Thunderstruck. Who was that guy and why do I want to go back to him and apologize for walking out?

Because apparently he’s your Iuratum Cor, the voice said, amused.

Whatever that means, I agreed.

I’d never let anyone hold any power over me for good reason: I couldn’t take the risk of being discovered by those who were supposedly hunting me. The conversation with my father from days before still rung through my head. It didn’t seem likely that the big guy knew my mother, as he didn’t appear that much older than me, but what about her former associates? Maybe he was a new hire or something. Maybe everything he’d said was a lie and he was just trying to get me to go with him so he could finally finish what she had started. Whatever that was.

Or maybe he meant everything he said, it countered.

I didn’t know which scared me more. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore, which, to be honest, wasn’t very far. I don’t jog, as I’ve told you. I looked around, trying to gather my bearings, my lungs burning in my chest. I didn’t recognize the street I had turned on, the tall buildings around me unfamiliar. The streets were almost empty. Cars parked on the sides, people here and there. I shivered and pulled the hood of my jacket up and moved forward, determined to find a street sign, a taxi, anything to get me the hell out of there.

Then, a scream.

I jerked my head to the right, toward a dark alley that stretched between the buildings. I could vaguely make out two people, one pressing the other against the side of a building. The one being pressed seemed to be struggling, and a scream came again. I reached down to my pocket to call 911 but came up empty. On my rush to get out and screw, I’d left my phone at home. Jason was right: I needed to control my libido better.

I entered the alley.

I approached quietly, getting closer, the scene before me coming into sharp focus. A man was snarling as he pressed a woman against the brick wall, telling her to shut the fuck up and to just take it, that she was just a fucking whore. And I think she was too: her makeup too thick, running in clumps down her face as her tears wetted her cheeks, her ratty skirt too short, torn leggings and high-heeled shoes. Even if she was a prostitute, she didn’t deserve to be raped in the alley. I got angry very quickly.

“Hey,” I said cordially. “What’s going on, guys?”

The would-be rapist jerked his rat-like eyes toward me. “Get the hell outta here, man,” he snarled. “This don’t concern you.”

“Ma’am?” I asked gently. “Are you okay?”

The bastard still had his hand over her mouth, so what came out was muffled, but her eyes widened, and she frantically shook her head. “I don’t think she’s okay with this,” I told the asshole.

“Kid, I’m warning you,” he hissed. “I’ll mess you up if you don’t leave now.”

“Are you her pimp?” I asked him quietly. If he was, maybe this was how pimps acted. I didn’t know any pimps or whores, so I wasn’t sure.

“Do I look like a pimp to you?”

“No, you look like a fucking loser who can only get what he wants by forcing it,” I said. “I’ve already called the cops.” I hadn’t, but he didn’t know that.

The idiot dropped his hands from the prostitute’s mouth and stepped away from her. She screamed again and took off down the alley. I groaned when she didn’t keep going, but instead hid behind a trash can, like, ten feet away. Her head peeked over the lid as she watched us. Don’t people run away anymore? Jesus.

“I’m going to fuck you up, kid,” the rat-eyed man promised.

“Well, here’s the thing,” I told him. “I certainly don’t want you to kill me. Why don’t we just call it a day and go our separate ways.”

He shook his head. “You’re a mouthy little thing, aren’t you? Maybe I should get you to suck my cock instead. Would you like that, pretty boy?” He grabbed his crotch and leered at me.

“No, but thank you for offering,” I said. “I don’t like venereal diseases in my mouth.”

“I have a condom,” the prostitute called out helpfully.

“That’s nice, but no thanks,” I told her.

“Okay,” she said.

“You ain’t gonna suck my dick?” the man asked.

“I’ll be honest with you,” I said. “If that thing gets near my mouth, I would probably end up biting it off.”

His eyes narrowed. “You would, huh?”

“Yes,” I promised.

“Well, I guess I’m just going to have to kill you, then,” he said. I knew I was fucked when, instead of rushing me like I expected, he raised his right leg into the air and slammed it down as his hands shot above his head. A four-foot section of concrete rose from the ground in front of him, splitting the ground beneath it, causing the alley to shake. The piece of earth spun wickedly as he grinned at me. The whore screamed. He twisted his upper body to the left and then snapped forward again, pushing his hands toward the spinning boulder in front of him. It flew straight at me, and I dove to the ground, feeling the weight of the concrete as it passed over my head. It shot out of the alley and smashed into a parked SUV on the opposite side of the street. The vehicle flipped onto its side, sliding up the stairs of a brownstone. People began to shout on the street.

“Oh, hell, you’re an Elemental?” I groaned as I pulled myself to my feet.

“You shoulda just walked away!” he snarled. He raised his foot again, and when it dropped, another section of ground rose through the air, twice the size of the last. Its edges scraped the sides of the alley as it floated in front of its master. I began to get royally pissed off. It was people like this asshole that gave Elementals a bad name.

I heard people gathering at the edge of the alley behind me. I hazarded a quick look over my shoulder. At least ten bystanders. “Get back,” I shouted at them as I turned back to face the Elemental in front of me. Someone noticed the earth in the air and screamed. It didn’t sound like any of the people were leaving.

You should have just gone with the crazy guy in the bar, the voice said.

No shit. Any ideas?

Yeah: don’t die.

Thanks.

There was a moment right before he thrust the wall of rock at me, a split second where I knew I couldn’t dodge it this time. I could either get nailed and spread across this alley in a bloody smear, or I could fight back. The spectators at the end of the alley would be squished like bugs on a windshield. I liked being alive. I’m sure they all liked being alive. I decided to fight back.

He snapped forward again and the concrete flew down the alley, scraping and digging into the walls, causing the buildings on either side to shudder. I dropped to my knees a moment before the wall reached me and lay on my back, resting on my heels. As soon as my back hit the ground, I thrust my left hand into the air, and a hurricane burst from my palm as the rock passed over me. The rock shot straight up, rising past the buildings, shattering windows and fire escapes as it flew upward. Glass and metal rained down around me as I rose to my feet, glancing at the man in front of me. His eyes were wide and shocked. Good.

The rock cleared the buildings, and I raised my right hand in the air, fire erupting into the sky, following the path of the concrete. The alleyway lit up brilliantly, incandescent as the swath of fire rocketed upward. The fireball hit the wall of rock right as it reached its apex and began descending. It exploded with a roar and a flash, the shockwave bursting outward, carrying the bits and pieces that remained of the concrete in a wide circle. Little shards began to rain down from the sky, bouncing off the destruction in the alley. I glanced over my shoulder again and saw that even more people had crowded into the alley, and all their mouths hung open. Great.

I turned back to the man in front of me. He gaped.

“So, can you just leave now?” I asked.

“How’d you do that?” he croaked. “I ain’t never known someone who had two Elemental abilities.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just go home, huh?”

He looked confused but nodded and began to walk down the alleyway, away from the crowd at the end. He passed by the crouching whore without so much as a glance. He reached the end of alley and turned right and disappeared. I started toward the woman, but she screamed again and took off running, following her attacker, her arms flailing over her head. Maybe they knew each other after all.

I turned to face the crowd behind me and was unsurprised when my stalker smiled at me from the front of my audience. Funny, I hadn’t seen him standing there before.

“I’m going to my home,” I called to him.

“I know where you live,” he reminded me, his voice highly amused. The people around him suddenly looked at him with newfound respect. They hadn’t expected a second act to this farce.

“I know, but could you just stay away?” I pleaded.

“Do you really want that?” he asked me sharply.

I thought for a moment. “Yes, I do.” My heart hammered in my chest.

“For how long?” he asked.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” I asked him, suddenly feeling very tired. Or resigned. I didn’t know which.

“Never in your life,” he said, his deep voice rough and wonderful. “You belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I told him. The heads of our audience swiveled back and forth like they were watching a tennis match.

He cocked his head. “Oh, you most definitely do. It’ll be easier for both of us if you just stop fighting me on it.” He flexed his arms against his massive body. Bastard was cheating.

I grinned at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Come over here,” he ordered. “Now.”

I didn’t dare disobey. As I walked up to him, our audience turned their heads, watching every step I took. I saw them only out of the corners of my eyes because I was focused on him. I reached him and put my hands on his chest as his arms folded around me, the top of my head barely reaching his chin. His body was hard as a rock, and it felt like hugging human granite. He reached down and rubbed the back of my head through the hood of my sweatshirt. I stared up at him, and he watched me back, and I knew I couldn’t (wouldn’t) fight this again. His face lowered to mine, and his lips brushed against my lips, and I could feel the flash inside me, the flare threatening to rise. But still, our eyes remained open, the ocean looking back at me. I gasped at a thought, a memory—
the giant

—but it was lost as he brushed his lips against mine again, never fully pressing, only promising. Nothing in my life had ever been more erotic than that moment: the ghosting of his mouth over mine, the feel of his body under my hands, the way he held the back of my neck. I shivered in his grip. I wanted to climb up him like the mountain he was and wrap my legs around his waist and let him rub against me in the alley. That’s why I stepped back; it’s why I stepped away.

He looked down at me, a knowing smile on his face.

“You said I was your Iuratum Cor,” I breathed at him. “And you were mine in return.”

He nodded.

“What does that mean?”

His eyes flashed. “It’s Latin. It means ‘heart sworn’. You belong to me. And I am yours.”

I turned and ran.

“Soon, Felix,” he called after me. “I’ll see you soon.” His voice was sure, confident.

I ran faster.

Chapter 3

We will stomp to the top with the wind in our teeth.

—George Leigh Mallory

SURPRISINGLY, I slept better that night than I had in ages. Unsurprisingly, I dreamt only of him. Needless to say, when my alarm went off the next morning at 5:30, I was torn from his image and my dick was so hard it hurt.

I slammed my hand down on the alarm and my apartment became still again. I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake the dreams I’d had of him, angry that I’d let him affect me so. I could think clearly, subjectively, even, on the matter when he was not in front of me. When he was around me, logic took a backseat to the most primal of urges. I felt like a cat in heat.

I hated cats.

I don’t really remember my morning routine from that early dawn. Each step was so ingrained that I was able to get ready on autopilot. I’m sure I had my coffee. I’m sure my clothes matched and that I wasn’t wearing two different socks. I’m sure I brushed my teeth and put on my coat and boots. I’m sure I remembered to breathe.

What I’m positive of is that on that morning, it was Tuesday, November 4, in the year 2014. Stocks and unemployment were up, doctor-assisted suicides were down. A man in Austin, Texas, would enter into his office building carrying two fully loaded SIG522 Commando rifles and would end up killing six people before shooting himself in the head. A man in Baragoi, Kenya, who was responsible for the mass extermination of 13,000 people in late 2012 fell off a horse and broke his neck and died, accomplishing what a war had been started to do. A single mother in Duluth, Minnesota, would buy a lottery ticket that was worth $414 million dollars. A woman in Attendorn, Germany, would give birth to quadruplets, two of which were black, the other two white. A dog in Great Falls, Montana, would pull an elderly woman out of a burning building. The dog and woman would be fine. On Tuesday, November 4, in the year of our Lord 2014, people would go to work, to school, church. People would be born, some would die. There were accidents, intentional acts of kindness, and horror.

On that particular morning, I was unaware that November 4 would be the last morning I woke up to the life I had worked so hard to keep, even if I didn’t know I deserved it. While I glazed over that morning’s routine, never knowing what lay ahead, I thought of him, the way he had tasted, clean and bright and masculine. I thought of the words he’d said, how I was his and he was mine. I was heart sworn, and I didn’t know who had taken it upon themselves to swear my heart away. There was a dark thrill about the whole idea, even as I admitted how fantastically ridiculous it sounded. Things like that never happened. It wasn’t realistic. But how could I explain away the flare that burned almost nonstop within me ever since we had first locked eyes? How could I fight a desire that seemed to be genetically coded in me? He was a catalyst for me to burn. I was shattered by him and all I wanted was more, even as I knew I needed to keep my distance. He had witnessed what I was capable of. He knew my real name, where I lived, my job. He seemed to know my innate need to be dominated, ordered around, gripped tight, and possessed. And what did I know? I knew he wanted me. I didn’t know how he wanted me, or where, or when. Why?

Why not? it asked.

“Because things don’t work that way,” I reminded the voice and my reflection.

Oh, you’re right. This sort of thing happens all the time to you and it never worked out. All that experience in the matter. I totally forgot about all those times.

I scowled as I finished fixing my hair. “The sarcasm’s cute.”

I learned it from you.

“You are me,” I said, rolling my eyes. The Felix in the mirror did the same. At least he agreed with me.

Don’t remind me, it grumbled.

So that Tuesday started out like any other, albeit a hyper remixed version of my normalcy. I left the apartment, locking the door. I left the apartment building, watching snow begin to fall from the sky, lazy and light. I rode the train to work with all my fellow commuters, each thinking what they thought. Perhaps they were bummed it was only Tuesday. Perhaps it was their birthday. Perhaps they had just been told they had cancer and would live for only six more months. I don’t know. Selfish, maybe, but I was lost in my own head. I know I thought of how his eyes were like the ocean and wondered why that seemed so familiar. I know I twisted the chain on my necklace in my hands. I know I thought how exhilarating it had been to save that woman the night before, a vindication when I was able to release the wind and fire out in the open. I remembered how his chest had felt under my hands, the way he smiled when he’d said I belonged to him. I wondered when I would see him again. I hoped it would be soon. I had told him to go away, but I was a liar.

I got off the train and walked up the stairs to street level. I was amused when I saw people walking in crowds down the street, little puffs of white cold air coming out of their mouths. They looked like trains. The snow continued to fall, but it was supposed to stop soon, or so the weather reported had indicated. I reached the Cantio Building and rode the elevator to the fifty-second floor. Amy was waiting for me at my desk. She grinned at me as I walked up.

“I thought I told you to call me if you went out last night,” she scolded playfully.

I kissed her forehead. “It was a last-minute thing. I didn’t even plan it, it just happened.” Then something struck me as odd. “Wait, how did you know I went out last night?”

She shrugged. “I was just testing you. You failed.”

I turned on my computer and took another sip of coffee. The IT guys had threatened me, stating I was never allowed to have liquids near computers again. I sat back in my chair, making sure the cup was at least two feet away from anything electronic. IT guys can be scary.

“Did you see the news this morning?” Amy asked casually.

I shook my head. “Kind of had other things on my mind.”

“Oh? Someone I know?” she asked.

I shrugged. “It’s not like that.” But it was; I just didn’t know how to explain the past twelve hours to her. I didn’t know how to explain it to myself. “What was on the news?”

She hopped off my desk and whirled me and my chair around to face the monitor. She reached over me, her breasts pressing against my shoulder as she grabbed the mouse. She typed in the address for the Terra City Times website. When the screen loaded, the headline screamed off the monitor: ELEMENTAL SAVES PROSTITUTE FROM ATTACKER.

“Some guy got video on his cell phone,” she said gently, near my right ear. “Would you like to see it?”

I nodded, breathless.

She clicked the play button, and I saw the SUV that had been struck by the first piece of concrete, shoved against the house across the street from the alley. The person with the cell phone spun when he heard the crack of the second rock wall as it rose from the ground. The cell phone pointed toward the ground as he ran across the street. He mixed in with the other members of the crowd, whispers and nervous chatter surrounding him. I briefly caught sight of him and my heart quickened. The guy with the cell phone was too far away to pick up on any conversation that was going on between the two dark figures in the alley. There was a scream as the large wall of rock suddenly flew down the alley. And then it happened, almost faster than the video could catch. The smaller man dropped to his back in a blur. The section of alley started to pass over him and his arm blurred up, and there was a great roar as the rock shot upward, lifting on clearly visible air currents. The figure rose from the ground, and his right arm came up and fire exploded from it, causing the screen to go white. Cries were heard from the other bystanders. The cell phone panned upward, following the fire’s ascent as it struck the concrete and exploded. People gasped, someone applauded.

Then the guy in the alley turned and spoke. His words were lost due to the distance. But the big guy at the front could be heard loud and clear. His words were harsh and beautiful. He gave an order and the figure obeyed. As he got closer, the shadows hid his face, the hood from his jacket obscuring his face. He pressed himself against the big man, and it looked like he would never fit against anyone as well as he did the other man. Big arms came up and around, and there was a gentle kiss, and then another. Only the mouth of the hooded man could be seen. And then he fled.

The video ended.

“That sure was something,” I said to Amy.

“Wasn’t it? The kiss was the best part, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, her voice careful but happy.

“Oh, I thought the rest of it was pretty cool too,” I said honestly.

“Did you?” She grinned. “Maybe we can agree that the whole thing was spectacular.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just too bad you couldn’t see that Elemental’s face. Fire and wind? Can you imagine?”

I shook my head. “Seems crazy to me.”

Amy Star suddenly patted me on the head and walked away. “Lunch?” she called over her shoulder.

“One,” I responded.

Then she was gone.

It was Tuesday, November 4, 2014.

I COULDN’T focus on a damn thing that morning. I kept trying to devise ways to break the Internet itself as I stared nervously at my phone, waiting for the inevitable call from my father. Was it possible to buy a computer virus online and then send it to him? Or I could pay a homeless person to break into his house and steal his hard drive. And then, of course, said homeless guy would need to go to my father’s work, which would have been a little bit trickier, seeing as how I didn’t know who he worked for or where he worked at. Okay, scratch homeless breaking and entering, I thought. Maybe I could tell him that if he loved me, he would never go online ever again. Use his parental status against him.

I watched my phone, but the call never came.

Then, a text. I jumped out of my seat, almost knocking my coffee over onto my computer. I saved it by sheer force of will. It sloshed as I slammed my phone open. One New Text Message, my phone said. But in my head, I understood what it really said was, After Your Father Kills You, Can Arrangements Be Made To Ensure I Get A New Owner? But it was from Jase, inviting me over for dinner tomorrow night. I sighed and sent a response, saying as long as he didn’t cook, as I didn’t want to die, then yes.

Amy came back at lunch. I was wrapping up some paperwork, so she took her place on my desk, waiting for me to finish. She said she wanted a hot dog again. I told her that was gross, especially two days in a row. She alluded to my sexual proclivities and said eating a hot dog for someone like me must be a fast meal because I could swallow the whole thing at once. I philosophized about the general bitchiness of her nature and might have said the knee-high boots she was wearing looked like she was advertising for a quickie in the printer room. She asked me if I would like to join her in the printer room to make some copies. I declined, advising her that there weren’t enough toner cartridges in all the world that would convince me to go to the printer room with her. She laughed.

“You’re an ass, Atticus,” she said, grinning at me. “At least I’ve never… gone… to…,” and then she trailed off.

I looked back up at her and saw her staring over the cubicle wall, toward the office near the elevators belonging to Ben Chivers, the manager of the office. Her smile was gone, her face a study in rigid stone. She began to tap her left hand on my desk, the nails clacking as each finger was brought down. “What’s wrong?” I asked, rising from my seat to look over the wall.

“Sit down!” she hissed at me, but my eyes had already breached the top of my cubicle. Two men stood with Ben, both dressed in black, expensive-looking suits with matching red ties. One had sunglasses on, and he was scanning the room as if looking for something. The other was speaking with the manager, pointing at what appeared to be a photograph in his hands. He pointed to it, stabbing it with his finger almost angrily. Ben shrugged his shoulders, and that’s all I saw before I was dragged back down by Amy.

“What the hell?” I breathed, turning to look at her. She peered over the cubicle wall one more time before she dropped and turned back to me.

“When I tell you to,” she said, her voice strong and low, “you follow me to my desk. Stay down, stay fast, and stay behind me. Do not stand up, do not look back. When we reach my desk, I will grab my bag and we’ll move to the kitchen. Do not stop unless I tell you to. Do you understand?” She pressed her back against the cubicle wall and leaned out to look around the corner into the hallway.

“Are you okay, Amy?” I asked her. “You’re acting weirder than normal today.”

She turned back to me. “Did you hear what I said?” she demanded.

“Yeah, I did,” I reassured her. “Stay low, stay behind you, all that jazz. We don’t have to sneak out to go to lunch. What’s great about this job is they give us a whole hour in the middle of the day for such an endeavor. We don’t get paid for it, but we can go, no worries.”

I thought I was funny. She didn’t. “This isn’t a joke,” she hissed.

I nodded over my shoulder. “Do you know those guys or something? What are they, process servers? Did one of your cases go to suit?”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me against the wall with her. “They aren’t here for me,” she whispered sharply. “They’re here for you, Felix.” And then she pulled my hand and we ran. Of course, my mind was left far behind. I’d heard the name Felix so frequently over the past few days, but it still hit me like a punch in the stomach each time. Amy Star had been keeping secrets.

We ran down the hallway, hunched over, hiding behind the walls and in the shadows. We paused flush against a door that lead to a storage closet. Amy peered around the door and waved for me to follow her. We rounded the corner and reached her desk.

“How the fuck do you know that name?” I snarled at her.

“We don’t have time for this now,” she snapped back. “Somehow, they figured out where you were, and now they’ve come for you. It probably had to do with your little stunt in the alley last night.” While I was busy hyperventilating, she reached behind her desk and pulled out a bag I’d never seen her carry before. It was large and bulky, metallic objects clanging together from inside as she set it on the table. She opened the bag and pulled out a laptop and thrust it into my hands. “When we get to the kitchen, open this,” she ordered. “The password is ‘PlanABC’. All one word, the first and last three letters capitalized. When it opens, you’ll see one program on the desktop, listed as Building.exe. Click it open.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a small black box, adhesive on the bottom, a lens on the front. She reached up and stuck the box on the top of the cubicle wall, the lens facing the office at the front. She motioned for me to grab the laptop. She stuck her head out into the hallway, a finger shoved in my direction, telling me not to move. She turned back and grabbed my hand, and we ran to the kitchen.

Three people sat in the lounge. Amy swore loudly and pulled a can with a spray nozzle out of the bag. “Lock the door,” she told me. I turned and clicked the lock leading to the kitchen. I turned back in time to see her spray our three coworkers with the canister. They slumped down in their seats, heads lolling to the sides.

“Did you kill them?” I asked her, my voice high.

She shook her head. “Just knocked them out. They’ll wake up in fifteen minutes and won’t remember it at all. Get the laptop working.”

I set the computer on a table and opened it. I wondered if it would have been better if I’d just called in sick today. I entered the password, and the computer powered up. There was a blue background on the desktop and a folder on the lower left of the screen marked Building.exe. I thought clicking on it might make the building explode, so I hesitated for a moment. But I didn’t think Amy looked like the committing-suicide-by-bomb type, and I thought the black box she had set on top of the cubicle was a camera, so I sighed and opened the program. Nothing exploded. A three-dimensional schematic of the Cantio Building began spinning lazily on the left. On the right, a series of boxes, all flashing “No Connection” in the middle. All except the box on the bottom. That one showed what the camera was pointed at.

“It’s on,” I said to Amy, or whoever she was. I was convinced then that she was a spy, and spies never used their real name.

She nodded as she pulled a wireless headset out of the bag and pushed it in her ear. She grabbed a black utilitarian cell phone that I’d never seen her use before. She punched in three digits and was connected almost instantly with whoever it was on the other end.

“Boss, it’s happening,” she said quietly, watching the monitor. The two men in the black suits were still at the front, but it had only been two minutes since I had been pulled from my desk. They seemed to be getting more and more agitated. Ben shook his head on the screen.

“Two men, but there’s going to be more. You know they probably have a team on the way. Put Kammy and Otis on the south end.” She paused, then looked at me. “No, he’s right here. I won’t let anything happen to him. Fine. Yes. Okay, hold on.” She reached into her bag again and pulled out another headset and handed it to me. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Who?” I demanded. “What the hell is going on?”

“Just listen to him,” she said, turning back to the screen. “We have thirty seconds before we have to move.”

I grumbled as I slid the earpiece in. I pressed the button on the side and was connected to the other end. I could hear noise in the background, and it sounded like whoever was there was shouting orders. It sounded like they were in a car. “Hello?” I whispered, unsure of why I was whispering.

“Felix?” a strong voice asked, worried and rushed. “Are you okay?”

“You,” I said, my voice relaying the shock I felt. “Are you kidding me?”

The big man chuckled, and it was warm in my ear. “No, I’m not kidding you. I told you that I wasn’t going to let you go. Amy, sign off for a moment.” I looked over at her, and she pressed the button on her earpiece down. She looked at me and tapped her wrist. The message was clear.

“She’s off,” I said.

He growled at me. It rumbled through my ear and went directly to my cock. “Now answer the damn question. Are you okay?”

I thought for a moment. “Aside from having the weirdest day ever, I’m okay.”

“I’m coming for you, you know.”

I smiled, unable to stop myself. “Are you?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have let you run away last night. You will listen to me from now on and do exactly what I say when I say it. I know what’s best for you, Felix.”

I shivered, and not because I was cold. “Because I’m yours, huh?”

“Yes. Because you’re mine and because I need to protect you.”

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

His voice softened as it cracked. “I know, little man. But I’m coming for you. I promise that nothing will happen to you if you do exactly what I say when I say it.” He paused, considering. Then, “And you are never leaving my sight ever again.”

“Okay.”

“You will listen to Amy. I will stay on the phone, but she will keep you safe until you can get to me.”

“Okay.”

“Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m coming for you.”

“Okay.”

“Put Amy back on.”

“Amy, he wants you back on,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. She nodded and clicked back in.

“Go, boss.”

“I’m five minutes away,” the big man said. “Plan A is in effect. We need to get Felix out of the building. You need to make your way down, just like we planned. No elevators.”

“Understood,” she said, her voice hard. “Boss, you should know that a few more have shown up on our floor.”

“How many?”

“Looks like three, maybe as many as six. The angle isn’t that great.”

“How far away?”

“Twenty yards and closing.”

“Carrying?”

She shook her head. “They haven’t shown it yet. Probably keeping it calm as long as they can.”

“Get to the stairwell. Now.”

“Felix,” Amy snapped. “We’re leaving.”

I couldn’t move. My feet felt glued to the ground, my body tired and scared. Following Amy to wherever she wanted to go seemed like too much work. It sounded much nicer to just curl up in a ball in the corner and wish that I could do the day over again. I remained firmly rooted when she reached over to pull my hand, the laptop stowed under her arm.

“Felix, I know you’re scared,” she said. “But I am taking you to him. Please, let me help you.”

“This whole time you’ve worked here has been to watch me?” I asked her. Suddenly it seemed very important that I get an answer to that question. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” she told me, still tugging on my hand. “And yes, I was assigned here to watch you, but only because the boss man wanted me to. He couldn’t do it himself so he asked me. It was a great honor.”

Honor? “Why couldn’t he do it?”

“Felix,” he said suddenly.

I had almost forgotten he was there.

“I will answer everything for you, but you need to move. Now.”

My feet became unglued. Amy sighed with relief as she pulled me to the other entrance to the kitchen at the back. “Boss, we’re on the move. We’re going to be hitting the fire escape about ten seconds after we leave here. Where are we with the alarms?” She opened the door and looked quickly left and right before pulling back in.

“Tick! Tock! Why haven’t the alarms been cut off yet?” I heard him shout angrily. There was an answer given in the background, but I couldn’t hear what was said. Tick? Tock? How many fucking people were involved in this thing? And why did they all have such terrible names? He came back on the line. “Amy, you’re good. Tick says you have fifteen seconds starting… now. Go!”

She pulled me by the arm yet again, and we entered into the back hallway of our office. We ran quickly and quietly and reached the door without anyone calling out to us. She pressed the fire-exit door slowly, and I cringed, waiting for the expected high-pitched bray of the alarm. Nothing. “Boss, we’re good. The door’s clear.”

“Good, now head down. Little man, how you holding up?”

“We’re going to go down fifty floors?” I sputtered. “Using the stairs?”

“We can’t trust the elevators,” Amy called back at me as we reached the fiftieth floor. “They could cut the power and we’d be trapped.”

“Who the hell are these people?” I huffed.

“They’re very bad people, Felix,” he said in my ear. “And you can’t let them get you. I need you too much to lose you.” His words caused my heart to stutter in my chest. Then, his voice grew harsher. “So, yes, it’s fifty-two floors, and you better fucking get your ass down here. Now!”

“Yes, sir,” I grumbled.

“I like the sound of that,” he breathed.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Amy said as she took one of those little cameras from her bag and stuck it onto the wall about five feet above the stairwell. “You do realize that there are, like, eight people listening into this phone call, right? Get a room.”

“I have a room for him. You can bet on it,” he growled into the phone, and if I hadn’t been running for my life down thousands of steps, I would have come right on the spot. As it was, I had the unfortunate consequence of hearing his hot voice on the phone: I grew hard as I was trying to run in dress shoes and pants. Down stairs. It was not fun for me at all.

“Stop talking like that,” I scolded him. “It’s making me run slower.”

He chuckled deeply in my ear. Bastard.

Then the door to the forty-seventh floor exploded.

Amy hadn’t yet reached the landing where the door was, which is probably why she survived. As it was, we were both thrown to the ground with the force of the concussive blast, each of us rolling down stairs. Even as I fell, I saw her tuck the computer to her chest, and she wrapped her arms around it as she tumbled. I had nothing to carry so of course my arms were flailing left and right, my head and knees bouncing off metal steps. Bright stars arced across my vision, a meteor shower for me and me alone. The breath was knocked from my body as my forward momentum carried me into the wall. I lay stunned and dazed on the floor. I could hear the big guy screaming my name in my ear, but it seemed like too much work to open my mouth and answer him. I turned my head to the right, my vision hazy around the edges, and looked down the next set of stairs and saw Amy rising unsteadily to her feet. She looked up at me and shouted, “Felix! Get up, they’re coming!”

“Get up now!” he roared in my ear. “I’m here, Felix! I’m waiting for you downstairs and you need come to me! Get the fuck up!”

I could hear men shouting from stairs below us, and I knew they were almost here. A sudden urge came over me then, a deep resonating compulsion to get out of this building and to get to him as soon as I possibly could. He would make things all right. He would chase all this bullshit away. I had to get to him. “I’m up,” I gasped out.

“That’s my boy. Get to me. You’re almost there.”

Amy looked frantically at me and then looked back down over the railing between the stairs. “Shit!” she snarled. Her eyes were hard when they found mine. “Felix, catch!” She pulled the laptop to her chest like a Frisbee and then hurled it up the stairs at me. Without thinking, I jumped to the left and caught it one-handed, the force and weight of the impact causing my hand to sting. Her bag of tricks followed next. “Stay right there,” she ordered. Even as she spoke, the first man arrived on her stair landing. His black suit was dusty from the explosion below. And then I saw what Amy Star was capable of.

The man brought up the biggest pistol I’d ever seen and was about to aim it at her when his hand was stopped by her forearm. She brought her hand down over his and the gun fired into the floor, the blast almost as loud as the explosion of the door. They both grunted, and the man brought up his left fist to punch Amy, and before I could shout a warning, she bent over his left side and brought her right foot back up and over her body, kicking the man the face with the bottom of her foot. The crunch of his nose was audible, and blood squirted as he screamed. She ripped the gun from his hand and held it by the barrel, bringing it down on his head. He collapsed to the floor.

Two more men showed, trapping her between them. She shot both of them in the chest without blinking. She fired at one and then whirled and fired at the other. She spun so fast, the shots so close together, that both men collapsed almost at the same time. She pulled out the gun clip, checked it, then slammed it back home before putting the gun in the waistband of her skirt.

I could hear shouting from down below and knew more men were coming. Before Amy could come up to me, another man reached her. He caught her from behind, intending to smash her into the wall. As he pushed, Amy launched her body upward, ran up the wall, and flipped up and over her attacker. His head cracked into the wall as Amy landed behind him. He turned around, snarling and bleeding. Amy took three steps back before running toward him. After her fourth step, she leapt at an angle and jump-kicked herself off the wall. As she flew, she brought her hands together in a single fist and landed it on the side of the man’s neck. The crack was instant and he collapsed.

“Holy shit,” I breathed. “She’s a ninja.”

The big guy chuckled in my ear. “Did she do her running up the wall flip thing or her wall neck punch thing?”

“Both.”

“Yeah, she tends to defy gravity. I wouldn’t want to fight her.”

“Boss,” she said as she climbed the stairs and took the bag and computer from me, “there’s too many of them coming up the stairwell.”

“Why can’t we just go onto the forty-seventh floor?” I asked

She shook her head. “I don’t know forty-seven that well. It’s used for storage and it’s completely filled. We can’t take the chance of getting stuck there.”

The big man sighed in our ears. “Plan B,” he muttered quietly.

The blood drained from Amy’s face. “Are you sure?”

“You have no other choice. Now you get him up there and bring him to me, and I’ll worry about the rest.”

“You can say that because you don’t have to do Plan B,” she accused him.

“We knew this might happen,” he snapped back. “Get to it. Now.”

“Fucking Plan B,” she muttered.

I didn’t like the sound of this. “What’s Plan B?” I asked.

She shook her head. “The less you know right now, the better. Come on, we have to go back up.” She started climbing the stairs.

“Now we’re going back up?” I groaned. “Won’t there be people coming down after us?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But I think most are still concentrated on the main stairway. I don’t think anyone actually even felt that door blowing up like we did.”

“Well, I’m sure you can just karate chop their faces off like you did with those other guys.” I gulped. “Or shoot them.”

She eyed me over her shoulder as we continued up. “Or you can just shoot fire from your hands and help me,” she pointed out. “Isn’t that what Elementals do?”

“I don’t think most Elementals have ever been in this position, so I don’t know if we can speculate on what one would or would not do,” I told her, my own voice getting all growly.

The big guy chuckled in our ears.

“Something funny, boss?” Amy asked sarcastically.

“Not a thing, Amy,” he said innocently.

“That’s what I thought.”

We continued up the stairs, Amy holding the laptop open and watching the feeds for the cameras she’d already placed to make sure we weren’t walking into a trap. We reached the fifty-second floor, where we worked, and passed without incident. She began instructing me to place cameras every few floors or so, pointing down the stairway so we could see anyone following us. We came across one poor bastard who didn’t hear us coming, and Amy stalked up behind him and struck him in the neck, causing him to collapse.

“Where are we going?” I panted as she discharged the clip from Unconscious Man’s gun and shoved it into her bag of tricks.

“Roof,” she muttered. “It’s right after the seventy-fifth floor.”

“Why the roof?”

She shook her head.

“Why the roof?” I demanded again, this time directing it toward the big guy.

“Just get up there,” he growled.

“I don’t like heights.”

Amy froze, and the sharp intake of breath in my ear told me he thought no better of my words.

“What?” I asked, looking up at Amy nervously. “I’ll go to the roof, I just don’t want to go near the edge. I get sick standing that close. This is, like, the highest up I’ve ever been.”

“Shit,” the big guy breathed.

“Boss?” Amy said sharply as she watched me. “He’s afraid of heights? Is this a joke?”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was afraid—”

“There’s always Plan C,” he interrupted.

“I just don’t like being up high—”

“Great,” she muttered. “This is going to go so well.”

“What’s Plan C?” I shouted. “For fuck’s sake, what happened to Plan B!”

“We’re kind of combining them both,” he said in my ear.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Amy sighed.

We continued to climb.

We reached the roof access door without further incident. Amy pulled out the big gun and fired it at the lock on the door. I looked down at the laptop screen and saw the camera we’d placed right before the door had exploded on the forth-seventh floor. The screen began to flash as a large group of men ran up the stairs and passed the camera. One… two… three… eight… twelve guys? “Uh, Amy?”

She removed the remains of the lock and pushed the door open. The wind snapped and slammed into my face, the biting cold mixing with flecks of snow that melted as they hit the floor.

“Amy!” the big guy roared. “Tock says you’ve got an entire army about to crawl up your ass, so get the fuck out of there!”

“Amy!” I said, panicking. I showed her the screen, watching as another group of men passed the camera in the ruined hallway. These men were different, however, in the fact that they were completely covered from head to toe in tactical gear, carrying assault rifles that looked black and oily. Helmets covered their heads, black masks obscuring their faces. An entire army, indeed.

As far as I could tell, there were about fifty armed men on their way up the stairwell.

“Oh, fuck me,” Amy whispered. She looked up at me. “Boss?”

“Yes?” he spat, his voice angry. But even I could hear the fear that undulated in his words.

“Will this work?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “The south end of the building is blocked off due to construction. No way in and no way out of the building. They knew as well as we did that Felix would never use his abilities in that public a setting, especially in the building where he works. It would’ve brought too much attention down on him. It’s where we are now. We’ve got the area covered, and no one knows we’re here yet. Tick and Tock have set up motion detectors, so we’ll know if anyone comes up behind us. Kammy and Otis are set up with sniper rifles in an adjacent building on a floor that faces the south end of the Cantio Building. They have us covered as well.”

“Good enough for me,” Amy said, dragging me through the door and out into the cold. Snow continued to fall around us, fat flakes that were unaware we were about to die. I looked up into the off-white sky and took a deep breath. It came out in a white plume.

“Alright, so how are we getting down?” I said, my resolve firm. “Helicopter gonna fly over and pick us up? It’ll be hard to fly in the snow, won’t it?” If he needed me to get in a damn door-less flying machine to get to him, then I would. It wouldn’t be that bad, just a few minutes, and I would be far away from this damn building and this whole damn mess.

“Not exactly,” Amy muttered, setting the laptop down on the edge of the roof, a waist high block of stone that circumvented the entire top of the billing. “Boss? I figure we’ve got about three minutes.”

“I know. Felix?”

“Are you coming in a helicopter?” I asked, my voice getting high again.

“No, little man. I’m not. You need to come to me.”

“I’m on the top of a building! How the hell am I going to get to you!”

“Go to the edge.”

“Uh, no fucking way. Okay, I lied earlier. I’m sorry! I’m petrified of heights. I can’t even go up ten floors without being sick!”

“Felix?”

“What!”

His voice softened again. “Do you understand that I need you?”

“Well, that’s what you keep saying. I don’t get what that has to do with—”

“Felix.”

“What?”

“You are a Wind Elemental.”

“I know.”

“Go to the edge of the building. Now.”

“Fucking asshole,” I muttered.

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to,” I retorted.

I went to the edge of the building, my cold hands reaching out to grip the ledge. I felt myself gag as an extraordinary sense of vertigo threatened to overwhelm me. What the hell were these people planning? How did I get mixed up in this? All I wanted to do was go back to the way things were. I didn’t want to be standing on a snowy rooftop with an entire goddamn army on its way up to riddle my body with bullets or to take me by force to some underground testing facility somewhere because apparently I’m a Split One, I’m Findo Unum, I’m Animo Dimidio, as told by flaming subway wall poems. I never wanted this. I never asked for this.

“Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Look over,” he ordered.

With the last resolve I had, I forced myself to lean over slowly. As my vision crested the edge of the building, I saw the world alight with snow that danced as it fell from the sky. I could see the ground below, the construction set-up at the edge of the building. Suddenly, I saw a flashing light on a tiny black SUV.

“Do you see the lights?” he asked me.

“Yes.”

“That’s me doing that. I’m here and you need to come to me.”

“How?” I whimpered.

“You’re a Wind Elemental. You’re going to take hold of Amy. You’re going to go to the edge of the building. You’re going to climb up to the ledge.” I could hear him take a deep breath and I dreaded his next words. “And then you are going to jump. Once you are halfway down, you will blast all you have toward the ground. You hold onto that connection, and it will create a buffer between you and the ground below. As you drop further, you will lessen the amount of power you’re using so it will continue to lower you. You should be able to touch down on the ground very slowly.”

Silence.

Then—

“Are you out of your fucking mind!” I screamed at him.

“You get your ass down here right now!” he shouted back.

“Go to hell,” I snarled. “I’d rather take my chances with the army. I’m a Fire Elemental too. I’ll just light this whole goddamn roof on fire!”

“Amy would be killed.”

“Fuck your Plan B, you asshole.”

“Boss,” Amy warned, “you’ve got about a minute.”

“Felix, you have to trust me!” He sounded panicked.

This made me laugh bitterly. “Trust you! I don’t even know you!

“You will,” he promised, the weight of his words sending chills down my spine.

“You’ve never even told me your name!” I cried at him.

He groaned. “Come down here and I’ll tell you!”

“No. Tell me now.”

“Felix—”

“Now!” I shouted.

“And then you’ll come to me.” It was not a question.

I smiled at the pain in his voice. “We’ll see.”

“Pull the necklace out from your shirt,” he sighed. His breath in my ear sounded beautiful.

I frowned but did as he asked, my hands shaking. The medallion in my hand reflected the white sky above, causing a metallic flash. “Okay.”

“Es cor meum,” he said. “Did you find out what that means?

A buzzing noise started in my ears. “Yes,” I whispered. “It means ‘you are my heart’.”

He sighed. “And I meant it the day I gave it to you. You are my heart, Felix.”

“Oh, my God,” I choked out. “Oh, Jesus.” I leaned over to look down again, to see if it was true, thinking if I could see him I would know. Of course, I couldn’t see him. It was too far away. I closed my eyes and pictured him in my mind, those ocean blue eyes, how big he was. And then I remembered the giant who came for me the night my house burned, the night my mother died. The incongruity of it all was almost too much to bear.

“I had to leave you behind then, but I will not do that now,” he said, his voice rough. “Do you remember me, Felix?”

“Seven,” I said, and the word was like a song. “You bastard. You unimaginable bastard.”

“Yes, little man. I’ve come back for you, and you need to come to me.”

“What happened to one through six?” I asked him, a single tear slipping from my eye.

“They ran away.”

“Why?”

“Because seven ate nine.”

“That’s still an awful joke.”

“I’ve learned new ones,” he begged. “Please, Felix. I can’t do this without you.”

“Ten seconds!” Amy shouted, her voice panicked,

“Seven?”

“Yes?”

“Are you gonna to leave me behind again?”

“Never in your life.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Amy!” Seven roared. “Plan C!”

Before I could even turn around, I heard footsteps running toward me. I should have known. Even then, I should have realized the depths of his need for me, how certifiable it was. As I stared up into the snowy sky, as an army raced up those final steps to take me away, as I gripped the medallion given to me by a giant a million years before, as Amy Star jumped to tackle me to send us both over the edge of the roof, I had a moment, an elastic stretch of time where I savored the thought I’d been unconsciously wishing for since the night I had killed my mother.

Seven came back for me.

It was this thought I had when Amy’s arms wrapped around me, as her shoulder struck my back. The door behind us burst open, and automatic gunfire tore the air around us. I clutched at the ensign around my neck as we slipped over the edge of the seventy-five-story building and into snowy space.

I’VE always heard that in order to conquer your fears, you have to face them head-on, that complete submersion into your own personal terror can effectively cure you. The one thing I learned on that Tuesday, November 4, 2014, as I fell eight hundred feet toward the ground below?

Conquering your fears is complete bullshit. I screamed almost the whole way down.

I FELT Amy’s shoulder strike my back. I felt my feet fall out from under me. I felt us fly over the edge of the building. Then it was like being in a snow globe from hell, the wind ripping around our faces, the snow falling up and down and all around us. Amy clutched at us, screaming in my ear while I screamed at the ground approaching us at an alarming speed. I saw the vehicle that Seven was in start up and squeal out of the way, tires slipping in the snow, the vehicle fishtailing to the left before it corrected.

Amy screamed above the roaring in my ears: “Felix, do it now or we’ll both die!” I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live so I could murder both Amy and Seven in a horrible, painful way. They’d been able to follow me for however long, and this was the best-laid plan they could come up with? I was going to destroy that big asshole as soon as I got my hands on him. But then he filled my head, and words I’d long forgotten—
you are not alone in this

—whipped through me, and for the first time that I could remember, I felt strong and alive, and even as I fell, I knew I was rushing toward something inevitable.

I raised my left hand as the first bullet shot by me, missing my fingers by inches. “Fuck!” Amy screamed in my ear. “I’ll take care of them!” I felt her move on my back and knew she was going for the gun still tucked above her ass. I focused all I could on the ground, now so very, very close. I pushed with all my might, and the air around me grew seismic and the snow stopped falling around us, and I thought, Oh God, please let this work, and then it came. My hand unleashed a torrential wind that groaned as it shot toward the ground. The windows of the Cantio Building shattered in its wake, and the space around us began to glitter as we fell through broken glass. I felt a sharp stinging in my face—like so many bee stings—as little shards of glass drew blood. Amy began to fire the gun upward as I focused downward. Through my terror, I saw why Seven had moved the vehicle before the wind hit the ground. It smashed through the construction site and blew outward and began to spin, creating a tornado that burst from the ground. We were aimed right at its center. Wood and metal and glass began to twist in a great spiral, and then the force pushed back up into my hand, slowing our descent. It was not enough. I pushed harder and the tornado grew, a loud roar shattering the south end of the Cantio Building. We slowed further still. Bullets continued to fly around us. Then came the clichéd click-click-click of an empty gun—heard even above the roaring of my ears and the storm below me—and Amy bellowed in frustration.

“I dropped the other clip!” she shouted at me.

Burn them, a dark voice whispered. Burn them all.

I can’t! I screamed in my head. I can’t just—

BURN THEM!

“Hang on to my back!” I bellowed at Amy.

“What are you going to do!” she shouted back.

“Everything I can,” I ground out. Keeping my left hand focused on the ground, I shifted in the air so I was falling on my side. Amy wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. With the tornado howling beneath us, I raised my right hand up toward the roof of the building, and there was a bright flash as the fire exploded from my hands and shot upward. I felt the power behind it, elevated to a level I’d never before experienced. Something clicked in me then, a switch going off in my head. I could do this. I would end the people trying to take what was mine. The arc of fire shot past the top of the building, and Amy groaned in my ear, thinking I had missed. I clenched my fist and pulled my arm down toward my body in a hard, jerking motion. The fire stopped its ascent and changed directions and fell from the sky. It landed on the roof top and detonated with a grinding ignition that was almost too bright to look at. Soldiers (for that’s exactly what they were) flew from the rooftop, blazing and screaming. One must have been carrying grenades on his person because he exploded three floors down, the blast blowing out the windows with a dull fwump. Large sections of the rooftop—air units, electrical boxes, antennae—began to rain down from the sky.

“Felix!” Amy shouted.

I turned back toward the ground as we entered the eye of the tornado, the wind screaming in circles around us. I pushed harder, and we landed with a jarring thud in the middle of the storm. Amy jumped up and screamed as she pointed upward. Men on fire, shards of glass the size of my body, metal, and concrete were raining down from the sky and about to land on top of us. Without the knowledge, without so much as a thought, I rose to my feet and lifted my left hand above my head and called the tornadic winds down upon us. The tornado collapsed, dispelling the fragments of the construction zone outward. It formed a large swirling vortex above us. Amy cowered into my side. I breathed and thought of Seven.

The wreckage of my escape hit the maelstrom above our heads and spun out, jetting off in all directions. The faces of the men I’d killed—burned and charred and shrieking—were lost as they were tossed like rag dolls. And then it was over.

Or so I thought.

An SUV screeched up behind us and the doors flew open. Seven charged from the front seat, his jaw set, his eyes wild. I stood there, feeling the squall I had created depart, leaving me cold, tired, shaking. And then he filled my world as he ran to me, his arms open, his face leaning down to my neck as he crushed me to him. I felt his jackrabbiting heartbeat against mine. I inhaled, smelling pine, and it was like I was a child again, and he had come for me when I needed him the most. I gasped as wave after wave of the past fifteen years struck me, my legs sagging, my eyes blurred and hot.

He came for me, I thought. He came back.

Seven pulled away, and even though people were shouting at us to leave, that we needed to get the hell out of there, he cupped my face in his hands. His ocean eyes were deep and dark, scanning every inch of my face, cataloguing the nicks and cuts.

“Hello, Felix,” he growled.

“I fell,” I said feebly, my voice wavering. “From all the way up there.”

“I know,” he said, his thumbs brushing the tears away.

“I did what you asked. Please don’t leave me behind again,” I choked out, unable to hold the weight of the world anymore.

The pain that carved across his face destroyed me. He brought my head to his shoulder, so strong, so much like home, and he whispered in my ear: “Never again.”

“Boss!” Amy shouted. “The motion alarms went off! We gotta go. Now!”

But it was too late. Two black Humvees roared down the alley. Seven spun me away, sheltering my body with his, my face pressed between his arms. I gasped and heard the engines scream as they stopped behind us. Shouts erupted from Seven’s vehicle as he pushed me toward the open doors. Time again became a thing easily manipulated, and it slowed around me. I felt the strong grip of the man I had always believed was a part of my imagination, a construct to help me escape the horror of murdering my mother. I saw another man jump out of one of the Humvees, a pistol bigger than Amy’s in his left hand. Seven pushed himself between me and the gunman, and I knew he would fire anyway.

I pressed my left hand against Seven’s chest and pushed, a gust of air knocking him away. As he soared backward, shouting in anger, screaming my name, the man followed his arc with his gun. “You will not fuck with what’s mine!” I snarled at him, raising my right hand. The flare inside me was like a volcano as I pulled it out of me and pushed. The conflagration that blasted from my hand was so molten it was white. It struck the raised gun first, the barrel melting, the clip exploding in the man’s hands. It struck him, and his body disintegrated in a burst of flesh and bone. It hit the Humvee, causing it to explode and flip onto the second vehicle with a metallic moan. Oily black smoke rose into the sky, a dancing contrast to the white snow that still fell. The men inside screamed as they burned. Forever, it seemed like they screamed. Then it was quiet.

I lowered my hand and looked over at Seven, sprawled on his back and perched on his elbows, his eyes reflecting the firelight. I breathed in. I breathed out. The flare subsided. I fell to my knees and tossed my head back and cried out, the terror of the slaughter I’d unleashed, the revulsion of what I was capable of raping my head.

I breathed in again, and then he dropped to his knees in front of me.

“Felix,” he whispered, his hand rough against my cheek.

I nuzzled up against his palm and breathed, “Yes.”

“Es cor meum,” he murmured, his eyes dancing over my face.

Though I’d never heard the phrase, I responded: “Ut tu meus.” As you are mine.

And even as unknown voices urged us to get into the car, even as a radio squawked orders to find them, to kill them all, he lowered his face to mine and our lips touched. It was like we’d done it all our lives. I sighed into his mouth, feeling a growing warmth in my stomach and heart. He deepened the kiss, his fingers rubbing along my face, my hair, my neck, scrabbling for purchase, pulling me closer to him. His tongue pressed against my lips, and like it was meant to be, I opened for him and tasted the giant from my childhood. His breath was urgent against my face, his body warm next to mine. He gasped as he pulled back, kissing my forehead, my eyes, the tears staining my cheeks. I fell against him and felt him lift me in his arms, cradling me against his chest, his eyes never leaving my face. He put me in the back of the car and crawled in after me.

“Get us out of here,” Seven snarled toward the front seat. He slammed the door behind him and pulled me onto his lap as if I were nothing more than a child, wrapping his arms protectively around me. He kissed the top of my head, pressing his nose against my hair and inhaling deeply. I could hear the rumble of deep satisfaction in his chest as he sighed. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing calmed. I knew he was thinking the same as me.

I was safe now. Seven had come for me.

Chapter 4

Words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself.

—Mark Twain

I STIRRED moments later, shifting against Seven, who gripped me tighter as if he was afraid to let me go. The moment was surreal, a deep sense of unreality washing over me. Had everything just happened like I remembered? Was I really here with the man who seemingly crawled up fifteen years from my past? I jerked again, and he grunted as my elbow jammed into his stomach. The horror of what I’d done began to descend again (had it ever really left?), and I felt my heart speed up and my eyes began to sting, the inside of the vehicle doubling and then tripling. My breath quickened, and I had to move, to try to get away from Seven, away from this nightmare that had become real. I had murdered dozens of people, people who had come for me with guns and an unknown intent. Who knows how many others had died in the destruction that was my escape? Exactly how many people had I ended today?

“Let me go,” I gasped, struggling in his arms. He pulled me into his chest and pressed his chin on my forehead, my head in the hollow of his neck. I hated him at that moment, hated him for being real, for coming back for me. I hated him for not coming back for me sooner. I hated that I already felt like he owned me.

“Just breathe, Felix,” he whispered in my ear, his hands rubbing slow wide circles on my back, and I hated him even more when I immediately calmed. It was too easy, it made too much sense. It was bright and shiny and new, and the way I fit against him made it seem like we were made specifically for each other. I did as he ordered and drew in another breath, exhaling slowly. My vision cleared, the knot in my throat released. I shuddered against him as I relaxed.

“Better?” he asked from somewhere above me, his voice low and only for me.

I nodded against his chest. “Who were they?” I asked him.

“Later,” he said as he kissed my head again. “We’ll have plenty of time for all that later.”

“Seven—” I started.

“Can’t you just let me hold you for one goddamned second?” he said roughly. “I just need to have you here. I need to make sure you’re all right.” He said this last as if talking to himself, petting me as he stared out the window. Apparently he needed reassurance as much as I did. I curled up into him and he rumbled again, a sound I was beginning to understand meant he was content, sated. I let him pet me and hold me and tried to convince myself that it was for his benefit, but knowing it was equally for mine.

I took the time to look at my surroundings and was amused to see two identical faces staring back at me, darkly Asian and beautiful. Their slanted eyes were almost black, high cheekbones and sloping jaw lines that rose into matching smiles showing small, white, even teeth. Their black hair jutted up, spiking into different directions, defying gravity with the help of what could only be rubber cement. They were gorgeous, in a slight, effeminate way, their age almost indistinguishable, as it is with most Asians, but they looked young. Kids, really. They watched me press against the big guy, their smiles growing bigger.

“Tick and Tock, I presume?” I asked them.

They nodded, clearly delighted that I knew their names. I noticed Amy in the driver’s seat, rolling her eyes as she grinned at me in the rearview mirror.

“I’m Tock,” said the twin on the left, speaking perfectly clear English. He jerked his head to the right. “That’s Tick.”

“I’ll probably need to be reminded of that daily,” I assured them. I could feel Seven chuckling beneath me, his hand on the back of my neck, not pressing, but making me aware of his presence.

“So I guess that means you’ll be staying, then?” the right twin Tick asked.

“Of course he’s staying,” Seven growled. “That’s not up for debate.”

“Staying where?” I asked. “You can’t just—”

“Not. Up. For. Debate.” Seven squeezed me tighter. I was almost having trouble breathing.

The twins looked at each other, and something passed between them, an exchange of looks that said much, a trick only twins seemed to have. Tick nodded at Tock and then looked at Seven. “Kammy and Otis got out safely,” he said casually. “You know, in case you were wondering.” Tock snorted next to him, laughing out loud when Amy punched him in the arm.

“Good,” Seven said quietly, looking back out the window. “Tell them to meet us back at home.”

“Home?” I asked, looking up at the big guy, resisting the urge to reach up and stroke my fingers through his soft beard.

He closed his eyes and rumbled again. “Home, Felix. It’s time for you to come home.”

Today has been so weird. “And where is home?”

He grinned, eyes still closed, rubbing his hands along my back. “Outside the city. It’s… kind of hard to explain. You’ll see it when we get there.”

“Won’t anyone follow us?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

“Amy?” he asked sharply.

“We’re clear, boss.”

“What about my apartment? My entire life is in there,” I reminded him.

He cocked his head at me. “You promise not to get mad?”

Tick and Tock smothered their laughter from the front seat.

I frowned, ignoring the Clock Twins, as I’d started to think of them. “Anytime someone starts an explanation like that, it usually means anger will follow,” I said, poking him sharply in the chest.

He captured my hands, bringing them to his lips. “Yeah, but you promise anyway?”

“Oh, Jesus, what did you do?”

Amy coughed, an ill-disguised attempt to cover her mirth.

Seven blushed, a sight I figured to be a rarity for him. “I may have sent some of our people over to your house after you left for work this morning and had them move all of your stuff.”

“You may have what?” I snapped at him. The front seat exploded in laughter, and I shot a quick scowling look at them, which only caused them to dissolve into hysterics.

“I told you that you weren’t going to leave my sight aga—”

I was mad. “What are you, some kind of fucking Neanderthal? You bash me over the head and take me back to your cave?”

“It’s not a cave—”

“And furthermore, how the hell did you even get into my apartment? You don’t have a key!”

“It’s a wooden door; it’s not that hard to break in—”

“You broke into my house and stole my stuff?” I asked, my voice rising.

“I didn’t steal anything!” he shouted at me. “It’s all in my room!”

“Your room?” I seethed. “It was perfectly fine where it was!”

“Oh, really?” he scoffed. “Did you already forget about that fucking army that was on your ass? Where do you think they would have gone had you gotten away from them?”

“I would have thought of something,” I muttered. I tried to extricate myself from his lap, but he would have none of it. He snarled deeply as he pulled me back and held me still.

“You know, boss, Felix has a point,” Tock said. “I mean, think about how you would feel if you were in his position.”

“Tock, if there was a time in your life to shut your everlasting mouth, it would be now,” Seven warned.

“Thank you, Tock,” I said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Seven muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” I asked, trying to keep the grin from my face.

“I said that it’s a good thing it wasn’t up to you, then,” he grumbled.

“Because it’s up to you.”

“You’re damn right it is!”

“Why?”

He groaned and laid his head back on the seat. His neck was exposed, and I wanted to lick it, to taste the skin and hair beneath my tongue. But I was supposed to be mad, and we had an audience. It wasn’t the best time for my libido to express its interest. It didn’t stop me from staring.

“Are you always going to be this difficult?” he asked me.

“Yes. Having second thoughts?”

He opened one eye and cocked it down to my face. “Not even in your dreams,” he said.

“What if we end up hating each other?” I asked, keeping my tone light and teasing, trying to ignore the tremble in my hands.

“Won’t happen,” he huffed.

“How do you know?”

“Because I said so.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot how everything you say is law and must be done. And what about—”

“Ask your next question carefully,” he said, “because you only get to ask one more.”

“For my whole life?”

“Yes, and that was it. I’m glad we got that out of the way.” He smiled, lifting his head and kissing me on the forehead.

I punched him the chest, and he laughed as I winced. He was way too buff. It was gross. Kind of. “That didn’t count!”

“Fine, one more.”

I thought for a moment. It came to me, and I felt shame that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. “What about my father and Jason?” I asked quietly. The car stilled around me, the mood growing somber and serious. “If those men know about me, then it’s only a matter of time before they get to them.”

Seven cupped my face in his hands. “I told you I would protect you, right?”

I nodded.

“Then I promise you I will protect them as well. We have people on Jason right now. Last I checked, he was at work, but the instant anything looks in any way out of order, he will be extracted.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he’ll be brought to you. It’s not so much a question of if as it is a question of when. He has a part to play in all this, even if he doesn’t realize yet.”

Those words felt like ice. “What part?” I shivered. “He doesn’t even know about me. About… you know.” I looked out the window, watching the snow that continued to fall. I was worried about Jase, now that I had time to think rationally. It seemed obvious that an easy way to get to me would be through him. I swore softly, wondering if he would ever forgive me. If what Seven was saying was true, Jase was about to be pulled into a place that I never wanted him to be, and I didn’t know how he would react. He was a good man, my best friend, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hate me. I didn’t know how I would react, if the situation were reversed.

“I know, little man,” Seven said softly. “But we’ll make sure he’s safe. Soon, you’re going to see things much differently than you ever have.”

I wanted to follow him along on this tangent, to finally have some damn questions answered, but he hadn’t finished with what I’d already asked. I was pulled in two different directions then, wanting to know the truth of things (the how’s and where’s and why’s), but also needing to know my family was safe. “He’s got to be freaking out,” I muttered.

“Why?”

I stared at him like he was nuts. “The place where I worked was just invaded by men with guns, and then I blew it up.”

“Oh yeah. That.” He shrugged.

I started digging through my pockets. My phone was gone, lost at some point during the chase. “Shit.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Seven said again, trying to calm me.

“And what about my father?”

“Your father.” He paused, considering.

“You better not be thinking of feeding me some bullshit,” I glared at him. “Tell me the truth.”

He looked me in the eye, searching my face for any hint of what I was thinking. I schooled my expression as best I could, staring blankly back at him. He broke first. “Your father is safe,” he said slowly. “He’s waiting for you. It’s where we’re going now.”

“I thought you said we’re going to your house.” My face felt numb.

He nodded, looking pained. “He’s there. He… works for me, in a roundabout way.”

I was stunned. “He what?” Of all the things that he could have said, of all the things that could have fallen out of his mouth, his words then were the last thing I would have expected. It was like he’d punched me in the stomach. My father had known about Seven? He’d been working for him and never told me? I thought of the loneliness of the last decade, the disconnect I’d felt from the world. He could have changed that. They both could have. “Why did no one tell me?” I asked, angry tears welling in my eyes.

He reached up to brush them away, but I pulled back and sneered at him. He dropped his hands and looked back out the window. He didn’t speak, and that made me angrier. I slid off his lap and crawled to the opposite side of the car, trying to get as far away from him as I could. I would have jumped out of the vehicle if we hadn’t been traveling fifty miles an hour on a highway I never saw us entering. “You are not alone in this,” I spat at him.

He recoiled as if slapped and hung his head, pulling his hands into his lap. I didn’t allow myself to pity him, to feel remorse for my mocking tone. Any sense of power I’d experienced over the last twenty-four hours was gone, slinking back where it’d come from. I felt tired and betrayed, angry and mortified. How dare they go behind my back? How dare they not tell me?

“Felix, I told you I would explain everything,” he said quietly, “and I meant it. I knew there would come a time when I would have to ask you to trust me, even if you didn’t know me. You must have faith that everything that’s happened has happened for one reason and one reason only: to keep you safe. You’re far more important than you realize.”

“Amy?” I snapped. “Tock? Tick? Any one of you want to add anything? Like maybe something that isn’t completely veiled in asinine bullshit?” They didn’t move. “I’m glad everyone seems to know what’s best for me. Haven’t any of you considered asking what I thought? Or maybe you were all too busy protecting me and spying on me to stop and ask yourselves if I was capable? I just fucking destroyed the goddamn people that were after us and you don’t think I’m capable?” I stopped then, my cry echoing dully through the confines of the SUV, drowned by the thick silence that followed. I wanted to say more, but it would’ve done nothing but fuel my anger.

For once in your life, listen, the voice admonished. If you’d actually listen for once, you’d realize he does think you’re capable. Why do you think he came for you?

Because he thought I needed to be saved.

You did, it reminded me. But maybe so did he.

I sighed and slunk back into the seat, watching Seven with wary eyes. His jaw was tensed and his eyes were hard. He was mad, but I didn’t think it was at me. I thought maybe he’d heard me, the words sinking in unexpectedly. I felt contrite then, wondering just how much the idea of my safety had consumed him.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, casting my eyes down. “I’m just tired and scared.”

He nodded tightly.

“How much longer?”

“About an hour,” Amy said. “You should get some sleep if you can. You’re probably going to be awake for a while when we get there. There’s a lot we have to go over.”

I shrugged, and without thinking too much about it, I crawled back over to Seven and lay on my back, my head in his lap. I looked up at him and he looked down at me, his eyes troubled. I shook my head lightly at him, wanting him to understand my confliction but not to doubt the beginnings of my loyalty. Even then, even after he’d only been back in my life for three very different days, even with all my arguments to the contrary, I knew I would trust him and would eventually hold him in the same regard he held me. It wasn’t something I questioned, that feeling of inexorableness. It fit, somehow, with all that had happened.

His eyes softened, and something passed between us then, something visceral and alive. To this day, I can’t fully explain it, that quiet moment between him and me. Somehow I knew that my old life was over and a new one was about to begin. He leaned down and kissed me gently, breathing me in as he did so. I brought my hand up and rubbed it through his hair as he pressed his forehead against mine, watching me with those ocean eyes. “You are not alone in this,” he whispered. I nodded, not hiding the single tear that slid from my right eye and down my face to my ear. Whatever I’d been was done. I was Felix Paracel again, and he’d brought me back to life. I closed my eyes, home at last.

I WOKE to  the murmur of voices. I was warm and relaxed, a strong hand resting on my chest. I felt reality seep back in, the actions of the day threatening to come roaring back. I started to push it away, but instead stopped and examined it with an empirical detachment. There was repulsion there at what I’d been forced to do, anger that it’d come to that. I told myself that there could have been no other way. In order for me to live, others had to die. I was bemused then at my shifty logic and the way it slipped over me with a coldness I’d never known before. It felt hard and calculating, like any cornered animal must feel at the moment before they strike. My hand had been forced, and to survive, to get to him, I had lashed out in the only way I knew how. The realization did little to calm me.

“We have him,” Seven said from somewhere above me, and I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his hand moving up and down my chest. Quiet voices talked back and forth in the front seat, ignoring us. When he saw I was awake, he smiled and brushed his thumb over my eyebrows. I couldn’t keep from making a happy sound in the back of my throat, and his grin widened. “Yes,” he said. “It’s exactly as we discussed it would be.” The tone of his voice didn’t match his expression. His words were clipped and almost angry. I raised my eyebrows at him and he shook his head. “You knew going into this what would happen. I never kept any part of that from you.” I snuggled up into him, pressing my face into his stomach, my nose catching his scent, almost unable to stop myself from growing hard. When I shifted again, I felt that he certainly hadn’t stopped himself, and I laughed to myself as his cock pressed against my ear. “It’s done now,” he said into the phone, his voice strained as I pressed my head down harder. “I can’t stop what’s meant to be. I wouldn’t even if I could.” He flicked my ear and gave a low growl as I turned to look up at him. I grinned wickedly and rolled my eyes. “I’ll see you back at the Station. It’s time for Felix to meet everyone. We’ll be there in twenty.” He snapped the phone shut and leaned down over me, his lips near my ear. “You should be very careful what you do when I’m on the phone like that,” he whispered.

“Oh? Obviously someone doesn’t know how to multitask,” I said innocently.

“You’re going to see what I can do very soon,” he swore.

“All talk,” I teased. “Maybe when I’m done with today, I’ll just go out to the bars and see what I can find. You never know who you’ll find out there.”

“I told you you’re never going out there again. You mind me now.”

I enjoyed getting him riled up, it seemed. His hand slid possessively into mine, gripping it tightly. “Because you’re never letting me out of your sight?”

“You’re damn right I’m not,” he said, scowling. “I go where you go from now on.”

“What happens when you get sick of me?”

“Won’t happen.”

I laughed. “You say that now. Out of the near twenty-five years I’ve been alive, we’ve been together probably a total of two hours. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you a lot better than you think I do.”

“Because you were stalking me?”

He nodded, his eyes watching me fondly.

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Soup in a cup. But you pick all the peas out first.”

I grimaced. “That’s kind of creepy.”

He shrugged.

“What do I like to do when it’s raining outside?”

“Be outside in the rain.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen the look on your face when it’s pouring outside. You’re the only one without an umbrella and you stare up at the sky and smile. I used to get so mad at you for that because I always thought you’d get sick.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “Seven?” I croaked.

“Yeah?” he replied, his hands on me again.

“How long have you been watching me?”

He sighed deeply and looked at me with sad eyes. “A long time. Too long. It killed me to not be able to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t allowed.”

“By whom?”

“Soon,” he said. “We have to wait just a little bit more.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, little man. I do.”

I took his hand into mine, marveling at the size of his hands, how they engulfed my own. Everything about him was huge, if the lump under my head was any judge. I grinned to myself as I thought dirty thoughts. This was going to be interesting.

“What’s so funny?” he asked me.

“What else do you know about me?” I asked instead of letting him see my depravity.

He thought for a moment, bringing his head up to look out the window, contemplating something I couldn’t touch. When he spoke, I felt something in me move, but toward what, I didn’t know. “I know you hate to be up before nine on the weekends,” he said quietly. “I know you like to have things in a certain order in your home. Cups go on the right side of the sink, plates go on the left. I know you like dogs but hate cats. You once tried sushi and vowed to never eat it again because you said it tasted like Jesus’s tears. You have a tendency to play with your necklace whenever you are nervous or deep in thought. You’re addicted to coffee and you need to eat more than you do, and trust me, that’s going to change. I know it’s your birthday in a few weeks, and I know even though you hate presents, you will still let me give you the one I got you. I know you care about everyone else around you, making sure they’re happy, all the while never letting anyone get too close. You don’t like it when people walk too fast on the sidewalk, you hold doors open for little old ladies, and you dream too much about your past.”

He sighed as he continued. “You think to yourself that it’s better to be alone, to never let anyone in, even though you want to. Your heart is so big that I’m shocked time and time again it doesn’t just burst out of your chest. You are the Split One, the only one in the world, and even though your father just told you this, you’ve wondered about it for a long time. I know you think you’ve been alone all this time, but you haven’t been. I’ve been there, even if you haven’t seen me. I am your Iuratum Cor, and even though you don’t necessarily believe in what it means, some part of you knows it to be true. You are my heart, Felix. Ever since that night, you’ve been my heart.” He stopped then, and I knew he was thinking he’d said too much, that he’d gone too far. He thought I would be scared away, or look upon him with disgust. Part me was scared (how could he know so much about me without me ever knowing he was watching?), but a bigger part of me flared sharply, and I burned.

“That’s it?” I teased breathlessly. “God, you don’t know me at all.”

He exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging as he chuckled to himself. “Creepy, huh?”

“Definitely,” I assured him. “You’re not really part of some cult that’s going to sacrifice me out in the middle of nowhere, are you?”

His mouth twitched. “Does that mean you’ll have to be tied up?” he asked, voice husky.

“I think that’s the way it works,” I told him. “And now I know something about you.”

“And what’s that?”

I grinned evilly. “You’ve got a really weird kink.”

He choked, blushing furiously again. I laughed, trying to hide from my face the roaring monster that rose up inside me, wanting to find out just how far that kink went. Dirty, dirty thoughts.

“You boys okay back there?” Amy asked, a smile in her voice.

“We’re fine,” I called out. “Seven was just letting me know how much he’d like to see me tied to a—” I couldn’t finish as the big guy smothered my mouth with his hand, growling down at me, his eyes letting me know we’d continue that conversation later.

Tick and Tock poked their identical heads over the seat and looked down at me struggling to breathe as the bastard tried to smother me. “Boss,” Tick asked seriously, “wouldn’t he just be able to burn through the ropes?”

Tock shook his head. “That’s why he’d have to use chains.”

Tick rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you see that fireball he shot at the Hummers? That thing would have melted through steel.”

“You guys better stop talking or you’ll both cease to be,” Seven said, frowning.

“Don’t they make some kind of flame-retardant material, though?” Tick asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but same problem,” Tock reminded him. “It’s not the flames, it’s the heat.”

“Maybe we could whip something up for them. You know it wouldn’t be that hard.”

“Oh, I bet it would be very hard if we got it right.” Tock grimaced.

“Tock!” Seven roared. “I will end you!”

“No, you won’t,” Tick said with a grin. “Who would you get to run all the tech? You don’t even know how to turn on a computer, much less run an op from the Tech Cave or the field.”

“I’ll find someone else,” Seven promised, not noticing that I still hadn’t taken a breath and that my face was rapidly changing colors.

“Boss, you’re killing Felix,” Tock said, staring at me with great interest. “I don’t think that shade of purple exists anywhere in nature except his face.”

“He’ll be fine,” Seven grumbled, moving his hand, ignoring me as I took in a gasping breath. “See? He’s breathing again. I wouldn’t kill him.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t,” Tick said. “Who else are you going to try our heat-resistant restraints on? I would say I would like to study the effects, but something tells me that I’m not interested in gay sex.” He ignored the glare from the big guy.

“We haven’t tried it,” Tock said. “Maybe we’d like it.”

“You haven’t had sex at all,” Tick replied. “Try the good stuff before you think about switching teams.”

“Oh, and you have?” Tock retorted. “Second base with our cousin doesn’t count.”

“It does too!” Tick shouted. “And there was that other girl, that one time.”

“Who?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “What are you guys, like, twelve years old?”

Tock rolled his eyes. “We’re seventeen, Felix. We’re grown men. And what girl, what time?” he asked his brother.

“You know,” Tick said, hedging. “That girl, from the thing.”

“What thing?” Seven asked.

He waved it away dismissively. “I forget. But it was awesome.”

“You lie,” his brother scowled.

“I had sex with a girl once,” I said.

“How was it?” both twins asked at the same time, their eyes wide.

“You did?” Amy said, chuckling.

“With who?” Seven demanded.

I looked up at him. “Didn’t know everything about me, did you?” I said, smiling sweetly.

“I know lots,” he said, his voice hurt and jealous and hilarious.

“You don’t know her,” I reassured him.

“I’ve never seen the boss pout before,” Tock whispered loudly to his brother. “It’s weird.”

“I’m not pouting!” Seven thundered.

“I think it’s cute,” Amy said.

“I’m not cute!”

“Yes, you are,” I told him, patting his arm.

“Well, whatever,” he muttered.

“Wow, Felix,” Tick said worshipfully. “You’re amazing.”

“Like completely epic,” Tock said in the same hushed tone. “The boss never backs off that quickly.”

“I think I’m going to like having you here,” Amy said, laughing. “Maybe now he won’t be such a jerk all the time.”

“Are you a jerk to all these people?” I asked him.

“No,” he protested. “I’m just… intense.”

“Way intense,” the Clock Twins agreed.

“Boys, turn around before I smack your faces off,” he ordered.

“I think he’s serious,” Tick said.

“We better turn around,” Tock said. And then they did.

“Wow,” I teased. “You are a jerk.”

“I am not!”

“You gonna boss me around all the time? Boss?”

“You bet your ass I am,” he said, the rumble in his chest vibrating against my shoulder. “And you’re going to listen to me. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good, because it starts now. Sit up. I want you to see where you’re gonna live.”

“We’re here?”

He looked down at me, and those ocean eyes lit up when they found mine. “Yes, honey, we are. Sit up and see our home.” He didn’t seem to hear the endearment that fell from his lips, but he must have seen the tremor behind my eyes because he leaned forward and kissed me again, biting my lip, his tongue chasing away the sting. I pushed further into him, and I could feel him smiling around the kiss. His mouth was hot, the promise behind it hotter, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed with me, a low, deep sound, clearly amused. I shoved him away and sat up. I stretched, feeling my back pop, and then I relaxed, his hand finding mine again. He pointed out the front of the SUV, and I saw my future.

We were traveling through a village that I had never seen before, the Terra City skyline a great distance behind us. It was quiet, almost quaint, with the white snow on the ground and the shops and homes that lined the streets hidden under great oak trees that looked older than the town around them. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed as I watched the buildings go by. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t residential.

“You live in the suburbs?” I asked, barely keeping the sarcasm out of my voice. Tick and Tock snorted again.

“It’s not the suburbs,” Seven said, sounding offended as he squeezed my hand. “Look.” He pointed out the front of the vehicle, and my breath caught in my throat. Further down the roadway, a huge building rose out of the landscape, seemingly at odds with the suburbia that surrounded it. It looked run-down from the outside, the brick and plaster and concrete falling off in chunks that littered the edges of the building. Windows eight floors up were broken out, the wind whipping snow through the frames. I think I would rather stay in the houses with the picket fences, I thought.

“What is that?” I asked, careful to keep my voice level.

“It’s the old Portandum Station,” Seven said with a grin. “It was closed in 1956 as it wasn’t considered economically viable to keep a train station open this far out of the city. My grandfather bought the building and the land around it in 1960. He wanted a place out of the way, where people wouldn’t ask questions about what he could do. A place where he could practice in secret.”

“Practice what?” I asked.

Seven glanced at me. “Seeing how far his abilities could go.”

“Your grandfather was an Elemental?” I was surprised at this.

He nodded. “Earth. My father too.”

“But you’re not?”

“No.”

I waited for him to continue, but he just looked at me. “And what, this is where you all live?” I finally asked.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said as Amy pulled up to a metal gate at the back of the building. An older man stepped out from the shadows and approached the vehicle. Amy rolled down her window.

“Hey, Chuck,” Amy greeted him. “How you holding up?”

He leaned on the door, his elbows bent into the vehicle. “It’s cold today!” he barked. “I didn’t think it was supposed to snow this much! You boys are going to catch your deaths if you don’t wear more clothes,” he said, scowling at the Clock Twins, who waved jovially at him. Chuck glanced toward us. “Boss,” he said to Seven. Seven nodded back. Then he saw me, and his jaw dropped and his voice became hoarse. “Is that… oh Jesus, is that him? Can I? Oh, please, can I?”

Seven clutched me tighter to him.

“Chuck, now’s not the time for—” Seven started.

“What does he want?” I asked curiously. I felt uneasy at the awed expression on Chuck’s face, the way his hands twitched into the vehicle. I could see him fighting the urge to reach toward me, and I didn’t understand why.

“Boss,” Amy said. “It’s going to happen all the time now. Felix may as well get used to it when it’s just one person instead of a crowd.”

Seven swore under his breath and looked over at me. “I’d hoped to get you in without having anyone see you just yet,” he said sheepishly. “I forgot in all the rush today that we always have someone posted out here.”

“What’s going to happen?”

Seven opened the door, letting in the cold air and wind. He held out his hand to me, motioning for me to follow him. I hesitated, if only for a moment, but he saw it nonetheless. He waited, letting me believe I could make the decision for myself. I thought hard, but the chemical reaction between me and him overrode any notions I might have had, and I reached out to take his hand. I think he knew, even at the beginning, that I would be hard-pressed to refuse him anything, but he at least gave me the illusion of free will. Our hands touched, and the nerve endings tingled with the familiar feel of his palm against mine.

He pulled me in front him, the snow still whirling around us. I was cold until he stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It fell down to my knees, and I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent I already associated with Seven. I probably looked ridiculous in his massive coat, but it soothed me. He put his hand on my lower back, and I turned to Chuck.

Chuck was an older man (sixty? seventy?), his hair thinning on the top over a deeply craggy face, a pouch for a stomach, and a spare tire around his waist. He had a nervous air about him as Seven led me to him, wringing his hands and grimacing. Before I could speak, he fell to his knees and bowed his head deferentially, his face still portraying his astonishment. “Unus Dimidiatus,” he whispered. “Have you really come back to us? All my life I’ve wondered….”

The love that trembled in his voice was almost my undoing. I had done nothing to deserve the devotion that he flung at me. He obviously had me confused with someone else. I couldn’t be what he needed, and I resented him for making me try.

Unus Dimidiatus, it whispered. Where have we heard that before?

Flaming Poetry Slam, in the subway, I responded, feeling nauseous. Or something like it.

I noticed how quiet it was, the only sound a cracking of a tree branch, weighted down by ice.

Then the snow stopped falling around us, but not as if the weather had cleared. No, it stopped in mid-air, the flakes and crystals suspended above and around me, as if frozen not by the cold but by time. I looked in wonder as I pressed against a fat flake and watched it break apart and melt at my touch, the water droplets suspended in air. I glanced up into the sky and saw that while the snow continued to fall, there was a ten-foot area around us that had ceased to move.

“Are you a Water Elemental?” I asked the kneeling man.

He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye. I stepped away from Seven then and knelt before Chuck, the big coat swirling around me. He studiously avoided my gaze, looking everywhere but at me until I grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to mine. He quaked under my touch. The tears flowed freely then, but instead of rolling down his cheeks, they lifted off his face and sparkled in the weak sunlight that poked through a dark cloud. “You’re very powerful,” I told him. And he was. I’d never seen anyone have the level of control he had. I could only imagine the concentration it took to interrupt gravity. I looked up and saw the suspended field above us had grown exponentially, the snowy field stretched down to the main road.

He shook his head in my hand. “It’s not just me, Unus Dimidiatus.” He shuddered. “It’s you. You bring this out in me.” His eyes rolled back into his head, almost in religious ecstasy. “This I do for you.”

“As do we,” the Clock Twins said in unison, their voices low and heady. I turned to them, and they were on their knees as well, off to my right, their heads bowed as if in prayer. As I watched, the snow on the ground rose up around the left twin (Tick?) and melted, the water snaking around his hands before it coiled up his body and spun around his head, refracting light and causing rainbows to shoot out and disappear. The right twin (Tock?) sighed, the skin under his eyes twitching. And then the detritus from the building—that which was made of earth—rose in the air and rushed at him, breaking apart the stuck snow in its path. The snowflakes shattered, the water droplets spinning lazily into the air. The earth spun around Tock, and then, as if they both commanded it, the whirling halos around the Clock Twins ceased their elliptical motion and hung above their heads.

“Jesus Christ,” Seven gasped behind me.

Why were they doing this for me? What was I giving them that was making them able to do it? It seemed odd to me, these Elementals and their almost blind devotion to a man they’d never met before. I felt humbled and starkly bare, an upswelling of fervent emotion coming from somewhere buried inside of me. I exhaled slowly, and without forethought, fire snaked from my right hand and wind flowed from my left, reeling around my body. I marveled at the way it danced, swirling around us, the rotation so much like strands of DNA. It rushed out and circled the four of us kneeling on ground that no longer felt cold. The fire gnashed and bit. The wind sighed a melody so bleakly wonderful that I felt annihilated. Then, as if it had been called, the wind and the earth and the fire and the water rose as one above our heads, and I could feel them, Chuck, Tick, and Tock. I could taste their moods, hear their touch, caress their senses. Chuck was thinking he never thought he would live to see this day, the joy in his mind knowing no bounds. Tick and Tock, their voices merging until they were one, knew what was happening but still didn’t quite understand it. It did nothing to keep their happiness from bouncing around in my head. Mixed in, however, there was something dark, something straining against the unity being created between the four of us. I tried to focus on it, but it flashed away as the eddy above us faded into nothing.

The snow began to fall again, like it had never been interrupted.

Chuck and the Clock Twins blinked and looked around, as if waking from a deep sleep. I felt my stomach roll and fought back the urge to retch. The turbulence subsided after a moment, and I knew it was because Seven knelt beside me, drawing me into his embrace.

“I always knew,” he muttered. “But I never thought….”

“What was that?” I whispered from my spot under his chin. My spot, I thought possessively.

“Obligatorius.”

I groaned dramatically. “More Latin?” I was going to need a fucking guidebook to keep track of a language I thought was as dead as my mother.

He chuckled against me as he pulled me to my feet.

“It means The Binding. The Findo Unum—the Split One—is able to bind other Elementals to him with his Animo Dimidio—Halved Mind. They are bonded to you now, and they would die for you if they were called to do so.”

I shoved him away. “Wait! I never asked them to do that. How the hell is that fair to—”

He grabbed me roughly by the shoulders. “You didn’t need to ask them anything, Felix,” he said, his voice pleading. “They chose to do it of their own free will. It’s their right as free people to choose who they would die for. They didn’t need to do anything. But the fact that they did is considered a great honor.”

“But I felt…,” I started, then stopped. He waited for me to continue, not rushing me, just watching. But how could I tell him of the darkness I’d felt mixing in with the light? I didn’t know if that was supposed to happen, if there was something I had missed in my understanding of the so-called Binding (what little there was). Against my better judgment, I stayed silent, pushing it down for later consideration. “Never mind,” I muttered. “And The Split One? Halved Mind? It makes me sound like I’m a fucking lunatic.”

He leaned in and kissed me sweetly then, ignoring my protests as the Twins snorted their pleasure as they watched. I blushed and pulled away, darting my eyes at Chuck, who had risen to his feet, his face serene and calm. “You didn’t have to do that,” I told them.

“The honor is mine,” Chuck told me with a grave expression. “Seven was right: it’s a choice. And we chose you.”

I looked curiously at Amy, who stood off to the side, a bemused expression on her face. “And you?” I teased. “No bowing at my feet?”

She rolled her eyes and grinned at me. “I’m not an Elemental, Felix.”

I nodded in understanding. “Just a ninja, right?”

“Ex-Navy SEAL,” she said as she shrugged.

“Um, okay. But you’re, like, as old as I am.”

“Two years older, but then I started young,” she said, looking away. I knew there was more to it than that, but I let it go. As much as I wished I could have dug deeper, there was too much rattling through my head as it was. I didn’t know if I could take more, and I knew, if Seven had spoken true, that my father waited for me inside.

“Are you ready?” Seven asked me casually, slipping his arm around my shoulders.

I was suddenly nervous, and I pulled down on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “Is it going to be like this with everyone?”

He nodded slowly. “But not until you are ready,” he promised quietly, rubbing his hand on the back of my neck. I had to stop myself from arching into it like a cat. I hated cats. “I was hoping to get you in without anyone seeing you, but between what happened at the Cantio Building and what I’m sure they all felt from the Obligatorius, most are probably standing inside the Pavilion.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I hissed. It suddenly seemed imperative that he understand my turmoil. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready! What if they don’t like me?” I knew I sounded whiny, but I couldn’t help it. If these people were supposed to die for me (and what the hell had I ever done to deserve that? And better yet, why would they have to die for me?), I didn’t even want to see anyone else. Maybe for as long as I lived. Things just kept piling on top of other things until I thought I would be crushed underneath the weight.

“I’ll be by your side,” he said. “We won’t have to deal with this until you say.”

That did little to calm me, but the earnestness in his voice almost pushed me over the edge. “You better be,” I scowled at him. “In case you forgot, you pulled me into this.”

He grinned then, wide and beautiful. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“What? That you basically stalked me and then ordered me to be tackled off one of the biggest buildings in the City before dragging me to the suburbs and having your people fall to their knees around me? Not on your life, you big asshole. If I have to deal with it, then so do you.”

“You mean it?”

I looked at him, and I could see the insecurity under all that macho bravado. I wondered at him then, what he’d gone through in his life to lead us to this point. We crashed and collided in ways I didn’t think were possible between two people. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to be in over my head before I realized what was happening. But could I deny him as he looked down at me, that apprehension flitting beneath his hard exterior?

It turned out I couldn’t. I don’t think I even tried.

“I mean it,” I whispered and felt shifted again, inexorably pulled toward something I couldn’t name.

His smile was big enough to split the world.

“Welcome home, Findo Unum,” he breathed, pushing a hidden button that raised the steel gate. It rose slowly, inevitably.

WHAT I expected when I walked through the doors of the Portandum Station was not what greeted me. I expected the outside of the building to be a portent of what was to come: leaking windows, cold drafts, puddles of standing water that smelled of metal. At the very least, I figured it would be dark and empty, a ghost town of times I long thought impossible, a broken steam-punk dream: mechanical and impractical, dim and dead, remnants of a forgotten age.

But what I saw took my breath away.

The large doors we walked through were intricately carved, marble that swirled and pirouetted as it formed unrecognizable shapes. They creaked open in front of me, a low groan that felt like the building was speaking to me, bidding me welcome like a magical doorway in some forgotten fairy tale. I walked on immaculate tile that reflected the bright lights that shone down from elegant chandeliers that hung on great chains from the ceiling, swinging gently in a breeze. I looked up at the ceiling, delighted to see murals of fire and earth and water and wind etched at improbable heights. The entrance led to a landing with two staircases that led down from either side. We reached the stone railing and looked out onto the station floor, which was almost the size of a Terra City block. And there were so many people.

Looking back, I can laugh at my mind’s interpretation of the thousands of people I saw. My heart dropped to the floor as I gripped the stone that circled the landing beneath my hands. I shook my head to dispel the illusion from the grip it had embedded into my brain. I opened my eyes again and saw while there wasn’t the large mass of people I’d feared, there were at least two hundred of them, all bustling around, their voices loud and bright. It’s what a train station sounds like, I mused. Even if it’s no longer in use. Seven tried to pull me away from the edge, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the circus that played out before me.

The people (most Elementals, but some not—again, how I knew this didn’t seem important) moved easily, as if this was their home too. I was startled then, when I realized it probably was their home. And why not? The building was big enough, at least thirty stories, and who’s to say the offices hadn’t been converted into apartments? It’s a little more complicated than that, Seven had told me when I’d asked if those in the SUV lived at his home. This wasn’t just a home, it was a fucking city.

There were vendors set up on the station floor, hawking everything from food and clothing to toothpaste and newspapers. I even saw, with some exasperated amusement, a cell phone stand, a kiosk set up in the middle of the floor like it was in a mall. A woman laid out paintings on a blanket, haggling back and forth with a large man and what I assumed was his daughter. An older couple smiled as a teenager browsed through books that looked older than the building was. A bored looking girl twirled her gum around her finger as an elderly man picked up and tested the fruit that sat in wooden boxes at her feet.

I saw a bright flash of light followed by a burst of laughter. A skinny man with a big nose juggled fire that came from his hands. Music played further down, and people clapped as a woman danced with water swirling around her body. A child standing behind the crowd jumped angrily as he couldn’t see through the bodies in front of him. He lowered his hands to the floor, a geyser of air lifted him up, and he sat down upon it, four feet above the tallest head in the crowd. Another man molded earth and metal, creating beautiful vases, lifelike trees, grand sculptures that seemed to come from a dream on its way to a nightmare.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “Seven, what is this place?”

He pulled up behind me, resting his hands on the stone rail, trapping my body with his. He leaned over, and his breath was wonderful on the shell of my ear: “This is my home, and now it’s yours too,” he growled deeply. I could feel his chest rumbling, as loud as it had ever been, and I could feel his happiness pouring off him in tidal waves that crashed over me, drowning me in their attack. “This is the Sub Elementis—the Elemental Underground. My grandfather built this place for Elementals and their families to escape the persecution they faced out in the world.”

“All of them live here?” I asked, watching the people move beneath me.

I could feel him nod against me as he pushed closer. “Most of them, yes. The majority only stay for a short while as they’re only seeking shelter. It’s fitting that we’re in a train station, because it sometimes feels like most are just waiting for the next train to come in. Eventually they move on.”

“And the others?” I asked, watching a father throw his child gently into the air, pushing him up with a blast of air, the child screaming with laughter.

“Others choose to stay. They’re put to work, depending on their skills. We have doctors here, and a clinic, we have a school that teaches up through the twelfth grade. There are scientists who have labs in one of the subbasements and engineers that keep the building running. There’s a maintenance crew who keeps the place clean and lit. There’s even a woman who wants to open an all-Elemental theater company in one of the basements. I haven’t been able to dissuade her yet.”

I choked out a laugh, overwhelmed. “Not a fan?”

“I’ve had other things on my mind of late,” he said, pushing against me harder, the railing pressing against my stomach. I felt the heat of him against my back, engulfing me.

“Some people leave here and go to work in the city,” he continued. “They return at night and leave again in the morning. There’s a garage underneath the building, where all the vehicles are parked. They live in apartments on the floors above, and some live in the tunnels below, constructing homes in and around the train tracks. We closed off a lot of the tunnels so no one can gain access to us from underneath.”

I turned my head over my right shoulder and found his eyes. “How have you been able to keep this all hidden? How the hell have I never heard anything about this?”

“We have a very strict security system integrated into the building. Everyone here is tagged and ID’d anywhere they are throughout the building.” He pointed up to a camera in a dark corner near the ceiling. And then another, and then another, until all I could see were cameras. I stopped counting after I reached fifty. “Big brother is always watching. We have facial recognition software that runs on algorithms that are ten times faster than the standard software. It can show 3-D holographic images and can even populate using skin texture analysis. The cameras are pretty much everywhere, except for places where privacy is a must. We don’t spy on people just because we can. It’s meant to be a safeguard in case something happens.

“The outside of the building is infused with the same technology. They knew we were coming from a mile away when we came today. Had anything been wrong, there’s a security force built around some of the more powerful Elementals, who patrol the inside and the outside of the building in shifts.”

“Like Chuck?” I teased.

He laughed. “Don’t let appearances fool you. Chuck can be badass when he needs to be.”

“You don’t have anyone from the village below poking their heads around?”

“Sometimes,” he said, shrugging. “But most think this is an office building, even though the outside of it looks like it is crumbling. They get turned away before they can enter.”

I thought for a moment. “And what then? Is that all this place is? A shelter for those that need it?”

He shook his head. “First and foremost, it is my home. And like any home, I will protect it. Violently, if necessary.” He looked at me then, his eyes searching mine, and I understood he meant more about protecting than just his home. The flare in my chest burned slowly, the ensign around my neck warm against my chest. “Past that,” he continued, after seeing I had understood his unspoken words, “it’s a stronghold, a place where we can monitor the events of the world and plan, if necessary, to counteract them.”

“That’s almost the definition of a compound,” I said quietly, refusing to sugarcoat my words. “Like you’re all terrorists.”

I thought he would be angry, but he wasn’t. “It’s not, though,” he said evenly. “It’s the preservation of a people most would destroy if they could. This isn’t about terror, Felix, it never has been. It’s about survival. You of all people should know what it takes to survive.” He said the words lightly, but it was hard to ignore the sting behind them. I winced again, and he sighed, grabbing the back of my neck with a big paw and bringing me in for a swift kiss. I gasped into his mouth and tried not to melt into his arms, but it was useless. I grabbed at him, feeling him anchor me before I could run again.

And that’s when the babble below ceased and the silence filled the great hall.

I turned away from him and looked down to find the hundreds of faces staring back at me. Some looked angry, others afraid. But the majority of the people looked up at me with the same veneration that Chuck had shown me and that Tick and Tock had given me. I scanned the crowd, wondering wildly if I would see a familiar face, someone from my past. I saw only strangers, reverent strangers who looked like they wanted nothing more than to charge the stairs and stand before me. Again, I thought I had done nothing to deserve the way they were looking at me.

You were born, it whispered to me.

And what the hell does that have to with anything? I thought frantically. I didn’t ask to be born!

No one in your position ever does. It can’t be fought. And I think you know this.

I shoved the voice away, banishing it beneath the fire inside.

“Seven,” I whispered, turning away from the quietly surging crowd below.

He wrapped me in his big arms, crushing me to him and making the roaring doubts fade until they were nothing but white noise in the back of my head.

“He’s been through a lot today,” he said loudly, his voice echoing over the hall, bouncing off walls made of marble. “Most of you have probably heard this by now. Felix Paracel did a great thing this morning and saved one of our own.” He nodded toward Amy, who took a step forward and stood next to me, her hand on the back of my head, rubbing slow circles. Hushed whispers swelled through the crowd, sounding like a heaving sigh. “He then rose above any fears he had and saved the rest of us.” The crowd exhaled as one, a river over smooth stones. “I will ask all of you to give him time, to give him his space. I promised all of you that I was going to bring him home; some of you have heard me say this for years. I will freely admit I never thought that this day would come and I… and that I—” His voice caught then, and I could feel his heart beating beneath my hands. He squeezed me tighter as he trembled. I looked at him and found him watching me, his eyes uncertain, breathing labored. I nodded at him, trying to show him with my eyes that he should continue. I tried to give him what courage I had left, however small it was. I could feel the tremors in him subside, and I was lost in the ocean again, the blue that held me as he did: ever so gently, but secure all the same.

“I promise you,” he said, speaking to the crowd, but watching me, “that I will do everything I can to make him feel that this is his home, too, and I expect all of you to do the same. He is one of us now, and belongs here as much as any of you do. But… he is also so much more than that: I am the Iuratum Cor to the Findo Unum and I am sworn to him. He is my heart.”

The crowd below began to roar in unhinged joy, a sound that swelled and washed over me. I heard it and felt it like the flare within me, but I saw only him.

HE TOWED me down the flight of stairs to our right. The people on the ground floor seemed to listen to him and kept their distance, but like Chuck before them, I could see each one itching to reach out and touch me somehow, to fall to their knees in adulation. Seven never spoke to the people around us, his singular focus on the bank of elevators against the back wall. We were followed by Amy and the Clock Twins.

Seven reached into his pocket and pulled out a key card and shoved it into the slot on the panel near the elevators. He pressed his finger against the panel that lit up in front of him, a scanner tracing the whorls of his fingerprint. It flashed green and the doors opened. He shoved me in and stood in front of me, blocking me from the people who began to crowd around the doors.

Amy stopped the Clock Twins from getting on the elevators with us, much to their surprise. “Boss, take Felix to your floor. Let him breathe for a bit and then bring him up. I’ll gather everyone that we need.”

Seven nodded tightly. “I don’t want anyone from the Council there,” he said tightly. “At least not yet.”

She shook her head. “You know Nero will have heard of Felix’s arrival. He will insist on being part of this.”

“Fine. You tell him from me that if he does anything to upset Felix, I will tear him apart with my bare hands. I don’t care who the fuck he thinks he is. Do we understand each other?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Loud and clear, boss.” She smiled briefly at me before she let the elevator doors close, cutting us off from the staring faces. I exhaled slowly, my mind ablaze. So many people; it was too much to handle.

Seven wrapped himself around me, putting his chin on my head as the elevator rose. I took whatever comfort he could give me. This was his world, not mine, and I did not yet know how to navigate it. I felt small and trapped by him, but in a good way. He saw the look in my eyes, the frantic look that told him I needed to run, and he tethered me to him, taking on the panicky fear that stabbed mercilessly like so many heated needles.

I was surprised when the elevator door dinged just seconds later, signaling our arrival on the third floor. I had assumed we would rise all the way to the top, where Seven would reside with a lordly mien that would fit him gracefully.

“Only the third floor?” I teased. “What do you have to do to be on top?”

He grinned wickedly. “You’ll find what it takes for me to be on top.”

I groaned as he pulled me out of the elevator. “That was horrible. I see that you haven’t learned any new jokes in the last fifteen years like you promised.” My eyes narrowed. “And what makes you think I’m not a top?”

He burst out laughing, and I tried not to be insulted. Bastard.

“Is this where you live?” I asked, looking around.

He shook his head. “This is where we live.” His voice was sure and strong and left no room for debate.

Off the elevator, the third floor opened up into a large great room, paneled with dark wood on the floor and high exposed ceilings, industrial beams crisscrossing overhead. Large wooden posts dropped from the ceiling, dividing up the floor. To my right was a large kitchen, the appliances silver and shiny, the marble countertops black, reflecting the track lighting that hung from the ceiling. “I don’t cook,” I warned him.

He had stopped near the elevators, watching me explore. “I don’t expect you to,” he said, laughing.

I left the kitchen and crossed the open room to the other side, opening a door and seeing a gym surrounded by open windows that afforded a view of a deep forest that stretched behind the Station. It was bigger than the one that had been in my apartment building. The machines inside promised to make you huge, but I shuddered and knew I would never use that room. No wonder the big guy was so fucking big. I wondered where the steroid room was. “I don’t work out.”

“You’re fine the way you are,” he assured me.

“Damn right.”

I walked over to the middle of the room, where four fat black couches surrounded the biggest TV I’d ever seen. I sat on the couch for a moment, trying it out. I sank into the cushions, stretching my legs out, trying to find the perfect spot. I grabbed a pillow and slid it under my arms and lay my head down. Perfect. I peeked my head over the couch and saw he was chuckling. “This is my spot now,” I told him.

“Is it?”

“Yes. If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you lay with me.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a grin.

I got up from the couch and went and chose the door the furthest to the right, at the end of the kitchen. It opened up to an office, books stacked on shelves from floor to ceiling. An old oak desk faced picture windows that opened up to the small village below. The desk was a mess, covered in papers, books, pencils, and pens. A large computer monitor sat dark, sticky notes attached around it. A huge map was splayed out along the right wall, showing the world as if it were flat. Pins stuck out on the maps, brown, green, blue, and red. I rubbed my fingers along them. I heard him follow me into the room.

“What are these for?” I asked him.

“Those are the Elementals that we know of. Each one signifies a group of ten or more.”

I touched a group of pins over Terra City, thinking hard. “Isn’t this exactly what the ERA is going to do?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same thing, little man. The ERA is essentially a sustainable cover that will give the government the right to round up all the Elementals and to do with them what they see fit. Study them, train them. Abuse them. It may not happen all at once, or even right away, but expect people to start disappearing over time.” He pointed at the pins spread out over the US. I noticed the larger concentrations were centered around the major cities. “We keep track of them so we know where the numbers will start to diminish.”

“How do you know that they’re all there?” I asked, staring out how few pins there really seemed to be. I had forgotten that the number of Elementals was far less than what was usually portrayed in the media. At last count (and how accurate it was, we couldn’t be complete sure, but it seemed close) there were approximately thirty thousand Elementals in the world, eight thousand on the North American continent, approximately five thousand in the United States. Out of over seven billion on this planet. Most were Earth Elementals, the rarest were Wind. Water and Fire hung somewhere in the middle, interchanging every decade or so.

“You have to think of this place as a sort of central hub for a majority of the Elementals in the world,” he explained. “Many of the pins you see are people that have stayed here at one point or another and continue to stay in contact with us, putting us in touch with the Elementals that may not know we exist.”

“Like I didn’t?” I asked quietly. The words weren’t meant to burn, but my tone was bitter. He looked upset again, and I resolved to go easier on him, at least until the situation had been explained to me. He deserved at least that.

He cupped my face and pleaded with his eyes. “You have to believe it wasn’t my choice,” he said roughly. “I would have taken you with me the night I found you if I could have.”

“But you couldn’t, huh?”

He shook his head.

I waved at the pins in the wall. “Do they all have a choice?”

“In what?”

“If they don’t want to be found or tracked by anyone, do you still put a pin in the wall?”

“Those that truly want to remain off the grid remain off the grid.”

I cocked my head at him. “But you could find them, couldn’t you? If you really wanted to.”

Seven hesitated, and it spoke volumes. He watched me closely before simply saying, “Yes.”

“But you respect their decision to remain hidden.”

He nodded.

“So, you’re kind of the big boss around here, aren’t you?” I teased, suitably impressed. “All these people report to you?”

He laughed as he dropped his hands, but there was no humor in it. “I guess you could say that. I run the day-to day operations around here, and any ops that we may have, but there’s others above me who… handle the more complicated matters.” At that last part, his voice became low and angry, his eyes narrowing.

“The Council?”

He looked up sharply. “How did you…? Right. Amy, at the elevator.” He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “Yeah, the Consilium Elementorum, the Council of Elementals. Six old men and women whose only right to lead has been the fact that they’ve been around longer than the rest of us. But the Council has been around for centuries, in one form or another, and if there’s one thing people hate breaking from, it’s tradition.”

“I take it we don’t like the Council.”

He shrugged. “Not particularly. We have different… views on how to deal with situations.” Much was said in those words, and I could feel the frustration radiating off Seven in waves. I nuzzled up into him and felt him rumble. Already I couldn’t stand to see him upset. I wondered again if I had any choice in this matter, or if the road before me was laid out, planned down to the last detail.

“We’ll have to bring another desk up here,” he muttered to himself. “Can set it up for you right next to mine, just gotta shift everything over a little bit.”

I smiled.

I pulled away then and let him trail me around some more. The door next to the office opened into a little room, and I was startled to find all of my possessions placed in careful mimicry of how my apartment had been laid out. I was slightly amused to see everything I owned fit into this small room. Even my bed was in the same position it’d been in back home. I heard Seven pause behind me, holding his breath. “I take it this is not your room.”

He shook his head, watching me.

“I thought you said all my stuff was in your room. After you broke in to my apartment. Oh, excuse me, after your people broke in to my apartment.”

“I was mad.”

I shook my head. “This isn’t going to work,” I muttered.

“It’s not?” he said, sounding like I’d punched him in the stomach.

“Where’s your room?”

“Right next door,” he said, pouting again.

“Help me, then.”

“To do what?”

“Move my stuff over. I thought you said I was sleeping next to you from this point on? It’s kind of hard to do that when I have a separate room. Idiot.” I had opened the closet door to grab some clothes to carry over when he came up behind me, rumbling as he pressed against me.

“You mean it?” he whispered heatedly, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and pulling me back to look up at him.

I rolled my eyes. “What happened to the whole ‘you’re lying next to me and never leaving me and I will kill you if you take a breath without me’ shtick?” I dropped my voice to imitate him and it was a horrible impression, but he got my point.

He kissed me savagely, making my knees slightly weak. He pulled away and whispered against my lips, “I didn’t want to pressure you,” he said, his eyes dancing again in that way they seemed to do.

“Liar,” I scowled at him. “Now help me.”

He did.

He opened the door to his room, which was huge and darkly colored, shades drawn against the windows that wrapped around half of the room. The walls were an olive green, the bed a deep mahogany, with handsome end tables on either side. There was a bench press off in one corner (apparently for those urges he would get in the middle of the night to lift weights—weirdo). An overstuffed couch sat next to the windows, the perfect size to have a big guy lie on top of you while you made out. The room smelled like him, warm and strong and so much like pine. I wasn’t surprised, given the events of the day (or hell, the events of my life), how comfortable I was in his space. There was a large bathroom off the back with a huge walk-in shower, and I thought dirty thoughts again, imagining being shoved against the glass as he towered over me from behind….

“Felix,” he said, and by the tone of his voice it wasn’t the first time.

I looked at him.

He was concerned. “Are you okay? You’re breathing kind of heavy.”

“It’s weird, you know?”

“What?”

“How not weirded out I am, at all, of… this.”

He didn’t speak then, choosing instead to open a wooden closet, hanging an armful of my clothes next to his after he cleared a space. He paused, his hands slipping over the sleeve of one of my shirts, his expression unreadable as he stared at my clothing next to his. I wanted to ask what he was thinking about but didn’t want to sound pathetic when I did, so I studied him instead: his profile gently shadowed by the weak afternoon sun. His beard was trimmed perfectly around his face, the black hair luxuriant and soft. I’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were before, or how he had a singular freckle below his left eye. His nose was sharp, curving upward slightly at the tip. His ears were big, like the rest of him, and they bent out slightly away from his head. His black hair looked shiny and shorn, jagged and brilliant. I can say with ease now, looking back, that he was the most extraordinarily striking man I’d ever laid eyes on. The way he moved, the way he spoke, held me in a dark rapture.

I felt a stirring then that was so far beyond lust that I considered my heart blown out, thunderstruck and aching. As if he knew my every thought, he lifted my shirt off the hanger and brought it to his nose, his hands gentle upon the fabric. He inhaled deeply, bringing it to his chest, hugging it against him. A terrible longing filled me, and I launched myself at him. But he knew. Somehow he knew, spinning to catch me in midflight. I quaked against him, and tears came then, hot and unexpected. He wiped them away with his hands and sweet words. The look he gave me brought out a heat that I knew could burn down the world. I crushed myself against him again, unable to process the regard in which he bequeathed himself to me. The last time he’d held me so, pulling me away from an impossibly close oblivion, I had been but a child. My world had crumbled around me, and he’d laid the foundation for something new. Now, he began to build it back up again, piece by broken piece, brick by shattered brick.

Chapter 5

If you reveal your secrets to the wind,
you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.

—Khalil Gibran

I CHANGED my clothes before we left to meet whoever we were meeting, any self-conscious reservations gone as he watched me from his position near the door. I lifted up my shirt and hissed, feeling a bruising pull on the left side of my chest. He cursed quietly then, rushing toward me, rubbing his fingers along the deep purple and green that mottled my skin from my armpit down to my waist. “How the hell did that happen?” he barked at me.

I shrugged, fascinated by the display of color on my normally bone-white body. “It must have been when the door exploded at the Cantio Building. Amy and I fell down the stairs.” I hissed as he pressed into the middle of the bruise. “That hurt, you ass,” I growled at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” His eyes flashed.

“I didn’t really feel it at the time. Now that I’ve calmed down, I guess it’s just making itself known.”

“We need to get that X-rayed, to make sure you haven’t sprung any ribs,” he said, almost running to the phone near the bedside table.

“Seven,” I said, my voice hard.

He stopped but didn’t turn.

“We have people to see.”

“Fuck them!” he snarled. “I don’t care how fucking long they have to wait!”

I walked over to him, careful to keep the pain from my eyes. His chest was heaving, his eyes were black, and for the first time, I witnessed the true depth of who he was underneath the cool exterior. He was frightened, and I couldn’t really understand why. I reached up and touched his shoulder, ignoring the way he flinched. “Seven?”

“What?”

“Do you have anything you can wrap it with?”

“I told you you’re going to see the goddamn doctor—”

“Seven.”

“What?”

“Go get something to wrap my chest. We’ll go meet with who we have to meet. If it still hurts afterwards, I’ll go see whoever you want.” I didn’t allow my voice to waver.

His shoulder shook under my hands as he fought with indecision. I could see him battling the dominant side of himself, the one that wanted to throw me over his shoulder and drag me down to the medical clinic, my protestations be damned. For a moment, I thought that side of him would win. His jaw twitched dangerously, his nose flaring, a vein pulsing on his brow. I didn’t know who or what he was angry at, but I didn’t sense that it was me. I touched him again, and he sighed greatly, his body going slack under my hands.

“Sit down,” he ordered wearily. “Don’t you move until I come back.”

“I won’t.”

I moved toward the bed and sat down, sinking into the pliant mattress. The comforter felt warm against my back as I lay down, his smell enveloping me as it seemed to permeate every corner of the room. I could hear him muttering to himself in the bathroom as he slammed drawers closed and opened others. I smiled quietly to myself, feeling his possessiveness even though he was feet away from me. He stormed back out of the bathroom and stopped, sucking in a breath. His eyes were still dark, but something else had filled them.

“What?” I asked, cocking my head, swiveling it around to see what he saw.

“I never thought,” he croaked out, “that I would ever see you there.”

I was confused. “Where?” I looked around again, only seeing his bed. “Oh. Oh.”

“You are never to sleep anywhere else,” he commanded, his voice like knives.

I rubbed my arms over the mattress and arched my back, teasing him as I lifted my hips into the air. “But what if you’re not here?” I asked gently.

He took a step toward me, his expression so serious I almost laughed. “Then you will think of me while you are in our bed.”

“I suppose we could work something out,” I said, running my hands over my chest and stomach, feeling my nipples harden underneath the caress. I could hear his ragged breathing as I played with him, his desire palpable and heavy. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen often, yeah?” I grinned at him.

He charged at me, pouncing on top of me, straddling my hips, ever careful with his weight. He stared down at me, his hands shaking as he brought them to my face. I wanted to push up into him then, but waited instead to see what he would do. “I’ve changed my mind,” he sneered at me, his eyes daring me to contradict him.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed. “To what?”

“You go where I go.”

“I thought that was the plan, was it not?”

He gripped my face with his hand, his fingers digging into my skin. “It was. It is. And you will do what I say. Do you understand me?”

I nodded, moving my face to bite his finger gently. His eyes widened, and another of his rumbles purred from his chest, and he let his considerable weight press down against me. I yelped quietly, the pressure almost too much for me to bear. He chuckled darkly and ran his fingers down my chest, to my stomach, to the top of my jeans. He hesitated then, looking unsure of himself. I had a moment to wonder why, but it was forgotten when he rolled over onto his back, pulling me onto his chest.

“This is better,” he said, liquid smoke curling from his voice. I wanted nothing more than to shift my hands underneath his shirt and explore (all right, who am I kidding? I wanted to rip his clothes to shreds and let him stick his cock up my ass until my voice became hoarse from screaming his name, and only then would I allow myself to shoot all over his furry chest as bright lights flashed before my eyes), but I pulled back, unable to keep the wince from my face as the bruise pulled at my side. I patted his stomach with my hand, feeling the ridges underneath his completely unnecessary shirt. I almost changed my mind.

“We have people to meet,” I reminded him, grinning at his growl.

“And then we come back here,” he insisted. “Promise me.”

“And then we come back here.”

“And we don’t leave for three days.”

“Three days?” I exclaimed, mocking him. “What happens if we get hungry?”

“People will bring food to us,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “I made them buy lots of Cup-A-Soup.”

This touched me and I smiled. “What if I want to go look around?”

He reached up and twisted my nipple harshly, causing me to gasp and rock against him. He grinned at this unexpected reaction. Fucker had already figured out one of the hardcore spots on my body, those nerve endings that made me forget my name. “My laptop can bring up the security cameras. You can look from there.”

“I’m not some princess you’re going to keep locked in your tower.” I scowled at him.

He laughed then, a great bellowing noise that caused his whole body to shake. I felt him shifting under me, and it only made things worse. “I don’t think you’re a princess.” He snickered, tears in his eyes. “You’re way too pretty to be a princess.”

I slapped him hard across his chest, and this only caused him to laugh harder. I tried to hit him again, but he managed to reach up with one hand and gripped both my wrists. “Stop that,” he warned.

“Or what?” I panted at him.

He rose up then, pressing my chest against his. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and I could feel his cock underneath me, straining to burst through his pants. I ground down into it, and he groaned, and it was low and loud. He pulled my ear to his mouth and whispered, “Or we’re not just going to be late to the meeting, we’re going to miss it entirely.” He licked the shell of my ear, his tongue a magnificent thing as it darted around. I groaned against him. “Nipples and ears,” he muttered as he sucked on my lobe, biting it. “Consider that catalogued for later use.”

“I’m not that easy,” I said, unsuccessfully trying to keep my voice from sounding like it dripped with pleasure.

“Oh, definitely not,” he said with a smile. “Now get off of me, or I’m going to commit suicide by zipper.”

“A tragic thing, to be sure,” I agreed, swinging my legs off him and sitting next to him. He moved off the bed and knelt before me, motioning me to raise my arms above my head. I did as I was told, and his hands were warm as they wrapped the cloth around my chest. When he finished, he sat back and inspected his work.

“You will tell me if it doesn’t feel better,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” I said, my eyes solemn.

He leaned forward and kissed me quickly. I wanted to sink back into it, but he pulled away with a curse under his breath.

“You need to finish getting dressed,” he said, going to the closet. He pulled out a pair of my jeans and a thin sweatshirt that I hadn’t seen in months. “Wear this.”

I stood, feeling the athletic tape pulling against my skin but not caring. “Why this?” I asked curiously.

He shrugged and blushed. “I like that shirt on you,” he muttered, suddenly finding something on the ceiling very interesting to stare at.

“You’re such a stalker,” I told him.

“Definitely.”

I quickly changed clothes, feeling his eyes on me again as I slid the dirty dress pants from my waist. I gave him a little show then, pulling on my jeans as slowly and seductively as I could. Of course, I fell onto the bed as one of my legs got twisted up. He was polite enough to smother his laughter with his hand. I grumbled as I buttoned up the fly.

“That was hot,” he reassured me. I glared at him.

He walked into the bathroom again, and I could hear running water. He came back with a wet cloth and gently washed off my face. It stung a bit, the cuts from the broken glass of the Cantio Building forgotten until then. He showed me the cloth as he finished, little lines of blood smearing against the white.

“Wow, I bet I look great,” I mumbled.

“You do.”

I believed him, for the most part. I think he was a little biased, though.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I said, shrugging. “Do me a favor?”

He frowned. “Anything.”

“If I say I want to go, we leave. No questions asked.”

He cocked his head, considering. “We leave. No questions asked.”

I sighed. And then we left the shelter that was the third floor, a place that was already more of a home than anyplace I’d ever been. I tried hard to ignore that. I failed miserably.

WE GOT back on to the elevator, Seven using his keycard and scanning his thumbprint again before hitting the button to take us to the sixteenth floor. He was quiet as he stood next to me, holding my hand in his like it was something we did every day. He was rubbing his thumb gently over my fingers. I thought of speaking to him, asking him any one of the hundreds of questions that still swirled through my head, but the way his brow was furrowed made me think twice. I thought it better to let him work out whatever it was that was bouncing around his head.

So instead, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the elevator wall, feeling the rumble of the machinery course gently through me as we rose higher and higher. I couldn’t believe it was only just after five in the afternoon, what with the events of the day and the way that everything I knew was gone. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in Seven’s (our) bed and let him wrap himself around me and let him follow into whatever dream I would have. I had gone from having a reasonably quiet existence to having people fall to their knees around me for reasons I still didn’t fully understand. Whatever I was about to get into, I would have to take comfort from the big guy next to me, his hands warm and calloused, his presence both foreign and familiar. I found it to be quite amusing that of all the things I was questioning now, none of them had to do with him.

That’s because you know, the voice said. That’s because everything he’s told you has made some kind of sense to you.

I’m still in the dark about a majority of it, though, I reminded it. How can I know when I still don’t know yet what is going on?

Do you feel his hand in yours? it asked.

Yes.

Why is it there?

I shrugged in my mind. Because he put it there.

Don’t be dense, it scowled. I am asking why he is choosing to do so.

But it doesn’t really sound like a choice, does it? He is my Iuratum Cor. How is he choosing to do anything when it sounds like he’s always been told it would come to this?

Do you really think he’s the type that would do something he didn’t want to do?

No, I conceded. But then what do I really know about him?

That he was willing to do anything to be with you. What’s a man gotta do to impress you these days if that doesn’t?

I rolled my eyes.

It’s like Jase said: you were waiting for something, right? Well, guess what, Felix? Here it is, that moment, and it’s got you by the hand, and from the feel of it, it doesn’t want to let you go. Jase is a lot more perceptive then we’ve given him credit for—

Shit. Jason.

I groaned loudly and dropped Seven’s hand. “What is it?” he asked as the elevator came to a stop, worry marring his handsome face. He pulled me off the elevator and pressed my back against the adjacent wall, touching my cheek.

“I need to call Jason,” I told him, cringing. “It’s been hours since the attack, and I’m sure it’s all over the news. He’s gotta be losing his mind right now.” I could only imagine how many times he’d called my phone, only to get my voice mail. I was almost curious to check and listen to see how many messages he’d left, each one sounding more terrified than the last.

Something crossed Seven’s face then, an almost imperceptible shadow. It was there one second, gone the next, so quick that I almost could believe I’d imagined it. He smiled quietly at me and reached into his pocket, pulling out his own phone and handing it over to me.

“I don’t have his phone number memorized,” I muttered, almost apologetically. “I never memorized anyone’s phone number.”

He shrugged. “His number is already saved on my phone under Jason Taylor.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

He stared back. “In case I needed to reach him.”

I looked through the phone list and found my own name. “Mine is here too,” I said. I should have been surprised, but I wasn’t. It was almost expected.

“And?”

“Did you ever call me?” I asked, trying to think if there was ever a string of calls I’d received where the other person hadn’t spoken.

He fidgeted, a slow blush creeping up his neck. He mumbled something as he stared at the ground.

“Sorry?” I asked, my voice even. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Just one time,” he said a little louder, raising his eyes defiantly to mine.

“Did I pick up?”

“No, I got your voice mail.”

I snorted. “And you didn’t leave a message? How rude.”

He closed his eyes and smiled toward the ceiling. “I was having a bad day and I just needed to hear your voice,” he said.

“Did it help?”

“More than you’ll ever know,” he said, opening his eyes to find mine.

“Maybe I’ll hear about that day someday?”

He brushed his knuckles against my chin. “You’ll hear about everything,” he said, and he kissed me gently. “Make your call. Let Jason know you are fine, but don’t tell him where you are, at least not yet. We’ll figure out what we are going to do about him in the meeting.”

I nodded. “Won’t your phone number show up on his caller ID? He’s a cop, you know. I’m sure he can track the number.”

Seven shook his head. “It’ll come up as a blocked number.”

“That’s good, because I have a feeling he’s going to kill me,” I muttered, willing myself to press the call button as I highlighted his name on the screen.

“If he tries, I’ll break him in half,” Seven scoffed. “He’s littler than me.”

I grinned, trying hard to keep my eyes from rolling. I didn’t know what would happen if the two of them ever met, but I thought the amount of testosterone would be enough to choke anyone in the immediate vicinity while they had a flexing contest. “I don’t know,” I teased. “He’s pretty scrappy.”

Seven waved a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. I have a very big gun.”

I choked on the laughter that rose like bile. “I’m sure Freud would have agreed with you,” I told him as he scowled at me.

“Make your phone call,” he growled. “And you tell him you’re safe. You mind me now.” He stalked away, giving me some privacy. I could hear him grumbling under his breath as he walked down the hall.

I smiled at his back and hit the send button. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Then, a cautious, “Hello?”

I almost couldn’t respond as my throat closed at the sound of his voice. I thought I was doing fine, or at least as fine as a person who had jumped off the roof of a building while lighting everyone on fire could be. But hearing his voice, how normal it was, how much it achingly reminded me of who I was just a few short days before, was too much. “Hello?” he said again, this time louder and angrier.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Hey, Jase.”

“Addy!” he shouted. “Oh my fucking Christ! Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you all fucking day! Are you okay?”

I nodded but then realized he couldn’t see that. “I’m okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice from wavering. I wasn’t too successful and he heard it.

“No, you’re not,” he growled at me. “Tell me where you are, right now.”

Any other time he spoke to me like that, I would have obeyed immediately. But this time, I couldn’t. “I’m safe, Jase,” I said, sniffling. “I can’t tell you where I am right now.”

“What!” he roared. “Your building was attacked, and I can’t get a hold of you, and now you won’t fucking tell me where you’re at! Are you out of your goddamn mind!”

“Jase, it’s not like that. It wasn’t—”

“And then I go back to your house and your apartment is empty!” I closed my eyes. “I’ve never been so goddamn scared in my life!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. And I was.

“Oh, you’re going to be sorry,” he warned me. “When I get my hands on you, you’re going to be very sorry, Addy.” There was a rustling noise from his end, and I knew he was covering the mouthpiece and speaking to someone else. Then he came back on. “Addy, where are you?” he asked quietly, attempting to control his anger.

“I can’t tell you, Jase,” I sighed. “But it’s not because I don’t—”

“Addy, I don’t think you understand,” he interrupted, his voice hard. “Have you turned on a TV in the last few hours? Listened to the news at all?”

“No, why?”

His voice dropped lower. “Addy, they’re saying that this was a terrorist attack. People died and now your apartment is empty? You won’t tell me where you are? They’re trying to account for everyone in the building who was working at the time. How long before they bring up your name?”

I said nothing.

“And then I go to your house and all your stuff is gone. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“Jase, you know I would never be involved in something like that.”

“Do I? I mean, do I really, Addy?”

“You should,” I snapped, my voice like ice. “I’ve known you for years, and I’d think you would know enough about me to never be able to connect me to something like that. I didn’t fucking attack that building, you bastard.”

“Tell me where you are,” he ground out, using his Officer Friendly voice.

“No.”

“Addy,” he snarled. “This isn’t some fucking game!”

“I never said it was. You just have to trust me, okay?”

“I know they were on your floor, Addy. They went to where you work. They shot your boss, Ben Chivers, execution-style, through the back of his head. Three other of your coworkers were killed. Bombs went off and people died, Addy!”

I closed my eyes and took in a ragged breath.

“Did you see them?” he asked, gentling his voice. “Addy, tell me where you are. I need to see you. I need to make sure you’re safe. Please.”

“Jason, I have to go.”

“Don’t you dare hang up the fucking ph—”

I sank against the wall, feeling the reality of it all come crashing down. Ben had been a good man, a funny man, with a wife and an impossible number of children. He would always show me the pictures he carried with him in his wallet: Christmas, birthdays, vacations. Never before had there been a prouder father of his brood than Ben. He had interviewed me when I first applied, and we’d talked about the job for five minutes until we discovered we both shared a random love of wandering around Terra City and getting lost on purpose. He’d told me of a Chinese restaurant he found one day, deep in one of the boroughs, the entrance hidden behind a dumpster in the alley. He walked through the door and ran into the woman who would become his wife as she carried a tray filled with dirty dishes to the kitchen. By the time the tray had fallen to the ground and the dishes had shattered, Ben had already known he was going to marry her. Now he was dead, and it was my fault.

“Felix?” I heard a deep voice say from down the hall. “Felix!” I heard footsteps run toward me, and then he was there on his knees, pulling me into his arms. I grasped at him as I shook. “Are you okay?” he asked me roughly, trying to get me to look at him.

“My boss was killed,” I whispered to him, unable to meet his eyes. “He was shot in the back of the head and he has kids and a wife and what is going to happen to them and why did they come after me and I should’ve stopped them!” I was babbling by the end, my voice going higher and higher until it broke. And then I was mad at Seven, irrationally so, but I knew this was his fault. “I should have done more!” I shouted at him. “Why did you have to fucking save me! I could have gone with them and none of this would have happened!”

His eyes flashed dangerously as he glared at me. “I would have never let them take you,” he seethed. “I did the best I could and I am sorry your friend died, but I would have never let them get their hands on you.”

“Why!” I cried at him. “I am nothing! I am no one!” I struck him in the chest, the head, the arms. He did nothing to stop me.

He took the abuse until I could no longer raise my arms above my head. Only then did he lower his hands to my face and force me to look up at him. Only then did he say, “You are everything.” I wanted him to be a liar, I wanted him to shut the hell up with his lies, but his eyes told me the truth, and they said I was everything, at least to him. I was reminded of the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul. Seven’s eyes, if they were such a window, showed him to me, and I could see it there, the depths of what he felt for me. I shuddered in his hands and wanted to run, but he held me still, waiting for the need to bolt to subside.

“What if I can’t do this?” I asked him quietly, once I regained some composure.

“Do what?” he asked, sitting next to me and wrapping one big arm around my shoulders. He pulled me closer, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, suddenly very tired.

“Whatever it is you all want me to do,” I said

He looked off into nothing, thinking before speaking, a talent I had never really learned. “To be honest, I don’t even know what all ‘this’ entails,” he said, rubbing the back of my neck with his hand. My eyes felt wide and shell-shocked as I nodded against him. “But… if you can’t agree to it, if it’s not something you think you’re capable of, even with me by your side, then no, I will not force you. I will not allow anyone else to force you. We’ll leave and go someplace else, someplace where no one knows who we are, and that’s where we will stay until either we move on or we don’t.”

“You would do that?” I asked him, not daring to believe. “You would leave all of this behind? What about your friends, your family?”

He shrugged and pulled me tighter. “You’re my family now, Felix,” he said softly. “I told you: where you go, I go, from this point on.”

“Seven?”

“Yeah, little man?”

“I’m glad you came for me. I’m sorry if it sounded like I wasn’t.”

The big guy shrugged. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. And I’m glad too.”

We were silent for a while. Then, “Seven?”

“Yeah?”

“How old are you?”

He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “I’m thirty-one.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Seven?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re all waiting on us, aren’t they.”

“They will wait as long as I say. You take all the time you need, little man. I won’t have you rushing into anything when you’re not ready for it.”

I searched down into my depths and pushed past the flare that burned briefly. I found what resolve I had left and dragged it up and out of me, feeling my eyes steel and my face set. “Three days,” I reminded him. “After this, we don’t leave our bed for three days.”

He grinned, and it was beautiful. “We don’t leave our bed for three days,” he promised.

Seven took me by the hand and led me down the hall. We reached a set of doors at the end, and he opened one, numerous voices ceasing as he stuck his head in the room. They were quiet as they watched him. I could only wonder at the expression he gave them that would cause immediate silence. He pulled the door shut again and leaned over and kissed me hard on the mouth.

“What was that for?” I asked, eyes wide as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

“To remind you why we’re here,” he said simply. And then he opened the doors.

THE room was huge and brightly lit, with a circular conference table in the middle and large blank monitors on the far wall. It reminded me of every clichéd war room I’d ever seen in a Hollywood movie, where the good guys plan to rise up to destroy the bad guys; or maybe where the bad guys plot the destruction of all mankind. I expected men in military uniforms to be shouting orders, or a dastardly man with an evil mustache to cackle maniacally as a missile launched from one of the screens covering the wall.

I’ve seen way too many movies.

The first person I saw was my father. It was expected but still hard to understand. He watched me with concerned eyes that darted over me, making sure I was still in one piece and walking of my own volition. It’d only been a few days since I’d seen him last, but it felt like forever, and I resisted the urge to tackle him, whether out of anger or love, I wasn’t sure. Much was said as we stared at each other, the guilt and concern in his eyes almost drowning the fire in mine. I hated him then, if only for a moment, and I swallowed past it, trying to get my feet to move. I felt Seven’s hand at my back, not pushing, merely waiting for me to decide. I saw my father glance down to Seven’s grip on me, but nothing changed in his eyes. His poker face was good, brilliant, even. I assumed it had to be if he’d been able to keep all of this from me. Anger sparked, low and feral.

“Dad,” I managed to choke out in greeting.

He said nothing and looked away.

The Clock Twins nodded at me from the other end of the room, smirking as they stood with their arms folded across their chests. Amy smiled reassuringly at their side, glancing casually from me to the strangers in the room, of which there were several. My eyes drifted to two of them, the first a tall and lanky black man with a severe nose, his dark eyes watching me, a small smile on his face revealing strong white teeth. His black hair formed a small afro over his head. The woman next to him was older, probably in her sixties, her white hair curling around her face, almost concealing the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. She was short and squat, a quintessential grandmother; but it was her eyes that showed her true strength, and I could almost feel the power pouring off her and the man next to her. They were Elementals, to be sure, and I no longer questioned how I could know that. Never before had I been surrounded by so many of my kind, and I began to realize that it was part of who I was, this innate ability to recognize one of my own. They saw the flash of recognition in my eyes, and their smiles widened. Seven stepped away from me then, and they stepped toward me.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, her arms opened, but she was interrupted by another woman, a young stranger with long black hair and a determined look on her face. She stepped past me without so much as acknowledging my presence and wrapped her arms deftly around Seven, her beautiful face buried in his chest. A grunt of surprise fell from his mouth, and his hands started to raise up to complete the embrace, but then he shook his head and dropped them back to his side. I heard a low growl fill the room, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I looked around wildly, only to realize the sound came from me. I settled into it and glared at the woman whose familiarity with Seven was like a slap to the face. Her blue eyes were closed as she rested her head on him, in my place, and I wanted nothing more than to light her on fire, then put her out and ignite her again.

Jealousy? It chuckled. Well, this is certainly new.

I’m not jealous, I scowled. I could care less who the fuck puts their hands on him.

It laughed. Really? You know, for a second there, I almost believed you. But then I realized I am you and you’re so full of shit it’s leaking out your ears. But do me a favor, it said as its voice dropped.

What?

Light that bitch on fire. She’s touching what’s mine.

I rolled my eyes, waiting for Seven to push her away.

He didn’t, looking trapped.

I cleared my throat. Loudly.

His eyes snapped up to mine. I stared. He got the picture, grabbed her by the shoulders, and took a step back.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” I said, struggling to keep my voice as even as possible. I walked toward her, my right hand raised to shake her hand, but also to melt the skin off her face if she even took another step toward him.

She looked defiant as she glared at me, without even so much as the common decency to blush at the fool I thought she’d made of herself. “I’m Kammy,” she said, gripping my hand tight. Her grip was rough for such a softly gorgeous woman, and I felt unease as I held her hand. Most of the other Elementals had been bowing at my feet (much to my chagrin), and the only time my mind actually screamed for it, it was with a woman who looked like she was waiting for me to bow to her.

“Of the sniper fame?” I asked, remembering Seven mentioning she’d been posted at the opposite side of the Cantio Building while we made our escape.

“The one and only,” she agreed, her eyes flashing. “I’m also an Earth Elemental. A very good one, at that.”

“Good to know,” I said, dropping her hand. She stepped back, and I glanced at Seven, his expression unreadable. I could hear Tick and Tock snorting with laughter as Amy hissed at them to be quiet. They obviously knew something I didn’t. I hated that.

A guy about Seven’s age (and twice my size—he was even bigger than Seven, it seemed) stepped in front of me, his grin lopsided, his teeth crooked, and his brown eyes sparkling. I liked him immediately when, instead of shaking my hand, he wrapped me in a hug, lifting me off my feet as he spun me around in circles, his black hair flapping into my face. I laughed out loudly, as his embrace was strong but careful, as if he knew I was injured but wanted to pick me up anyway. I could hear Seven start to protest, but the older woman hushed him. The massive man set me down in front of him and rubbed my head with a gigantic paw.

“I make fire,” he told me happily. “I can shoot guns.”

“Can you?” I asked, amused.

He nodded, his head snapping up and down sharply, his black hair flopping into his face. “I like ya,” he said, his voice flat, almost nasally. “I wanted to meet ya for a very long time.” I wondered if something had happened to him (there was a circular scar on his forehead above his right eye) or if he’d been born this way. He had the mien of an overgrown child, but there was something else there, lurking in his eyes. “Yer a lot littler then I thought ya’d be. It makes it easier to block ya if someone attacks ya. Can ya make fire too?”

“I can.”

“And wind?”

I nodded.

“Because yer split,” he whispered, leaning down as if he only wanted me to hear.

I shrugged. “So I’m told.” I looked into his eyes, seeing the sharp intelligence that lay hidden behind a simplistic façade, an almost animal-like cunning that looked wonderfully dangerous as it flashed. It took my breath away.

He watched me for a moment, then pulled himself back up to his full height. “I’m Otis Moore,” he said, his grin returning. “I saw ya jump off the building!” he said, making an airplane noise as he waved his hand through the air.

“I didn’t jump,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was tackled off.”

His eyes grew wide, and he nodded solemnly. “Plan C,” he whispered, horror alighting his magnificent face.

“Yeah, Plan C. I don’t think I liked it very much.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” he reassured me. “Tick and Tock did it.”

“Hey!” Tock said angrily. “Don’t blame it on me! Tick was the one that—”

“Oh, bullshit,” Tick interrupted. “I didn’t do anything. Tock said that it was possible to—”

“Well, you said you’d done the math,” Tock retorted. “And you think you’re so good—”

“I am good, just because you wish you could be like me—”

“Boys,” Seven growled. “That’s enough.”

“I think that’s enough from all of you,” a new voice said firmly, causing my hackles to rise. An older man stepped from the shadows, his face stony as he moved cautiously toward me. His hair had long since gone white, his face old, tanned, and sly. He held himself almost regally, the suit he wore tailored perfectly to his whip-thin shape. He stood next to the circular table, letting it separate us from each other as he looked at me guardedly.

Careful, it whispered. This one is different.

“My name is Nero Basileus,” he said to me, his voice clipped. “I am the head of the Consilium Elementorum. It is an honor to finally meet you.” He made no move to shake my hand.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said slowly.

He shook his head. “I wish I could say it was under better circumstances,” he said gravely. “I can’t help but think that your actions today will have far-reaching repercussions.”

“Now you listen here—” Seven started to roar as he moved forward. I caught him by the arm, ignoring the look I received from Kammy. He stared down at my hand in surprise, his nostrils flaring with every angry breath he took.

Once I was sure he would stay quiet, I turned back to Nero. “I was under the impression that my actions were necessary,” I told him evenly. “But since you seem to think otherwise, why don’t you tell me why?”

Nero’s eyes narrowed as he motioned at Tick. Almost apologetically, Tick reached for an open laptop on the table and typed a short command. The largest screen on the wall to my left flickered to life on a news channel, the little ticker a red slash across the bottom as words raced across the screen. There was no sound, but then none was needed; the picture alone was worth more than I could ever hear.

The Cantio Building was in the center of the screen, the shot taken from a helicopter as it circled overhead. Smoke billowed from the roof, small fires still etching their way across the devastation. I could hear Seven mutter angrily next to me, but I ignored him, my eyes glued to the screen. The camera panned down the side of the building, showing the shattered windows where I’d flung the wind toward the ground. It zoomed in at the base, the construction zone torn and shredded, two Humvees lying on top of each other as they smoked. Words flashed across the bottom, and as much as I tried—

HORROR IN TERRA CITY

—to ignore them, I couldn’t, my eyes drawn at the frantic scrawl that—

FORTY-FIVE CONFIRMED DEAD

—raced across the bottom in a never-ending loop whose only purpose seemed to be to mock me and my actions, to make known everything I’d done and—

WITNESSES CONFIRM ELEMENTALS RESPONSIBLE

—lay blame against an entire people. No mention was made of men with guns and tactical gear. No mention was made of any raid. All anyone would have known was that it was the WORST ATTACK ON AMERICAN SOIL IN SIXTEEN YEARS and that MAYOR SAMPSON DENOUNCES COWARDLY ATTACK AND VOWS THE ERA BILL WILL NOT FAIL.

“Enough,” Seven snarled, his arm coming around my shoulders as he pulled me into him. I could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. Tick, his face white and haunted, smashed his fist down onto the keyboard, and the screen went dark. “I warned you, Nero,” Seven said, his voice quaking. “You knew exactly what was at stake, and if you’d let me do this when I wanted to, none of this would have happened.”

Nero, ever poised, waved his hand at Seven dismissively. “You know as well as I do that there were certain rules we had to follow, my dear boy. Your actions went against the Council and innocent people lost their lives. Do not blame me for what your decisions have wrought.”

“Now wait just a minute,” the older woman said. “What were they supposed to do? Just let them grab Felix and take him to God knows where? Nero, even you can’t believe that would have been allowed, by any means.” She was angry.

The black man scowled at the councilman. “You are blinded by tradition, Nero. Seven and his group acted as best they could. It is because of them that Felix stands before us, safe and sound. You act like it was all for nothing.”

Nero’s eyes flashed. “We can focus on the end result all we wish, but the fallout from this day will set us back years. The Elemental Registration Act will be pushed to the forefront, and any hope we had of its failure is now gone. People will fear us for good reason, and they will applaud as the Elementals are dragged from their homes!”

My father spoke for the first time. “What would you have had them do?” he asked quietly. I glanced over at him then and saw the anger in his eyes, pulsing and dark. His hands were clenched at his side, and I knew he was furious. I couldn’t find my voice to speak in my own defense; it had been taken from me, the images of the Cantio Building still flashing before my eyes. Vertigo rolled over me, FORTY-FIVE CONFIRMED DEAD screaming in my ears, ELEMENTALS RESPONSIBLE dancing before my eyes. I sagged silently against Seven, and I felt his heart quicken.

“You have no right to speak here,” Nero snapped at my father. “Your say in the matter is over. Raising Felix Paracel was your only duty, and that time has ended.”

“I am still his father,” he said, his voice louder. “Regardless of what he is now, regardless of what he will be, my role in his life will never change.”

I felt sick at the way I’d spoken to him last, how I’d stormed out of his house, my anger taking over rational thought. He’d done what he thought was best and was defending me still, even in light of the deaths I’d caused. I could not let him be torn to bits by this stranger who cut at him in front of me.

“What’s done is done and can’t be undone,” I said, my voice stronger than I could have hoped for. I saw my father startle at my words, but then a small smile curved his lips. I turned to Nero. “You will not talk around me,” I told him. “If you have something to say to me, I won’t let these people speak on my behalf. Tell me what you will, and let’s see where this goes.”

I could see a small sliver of doubt enter into Nero as my words washed over him. It felt good to know he could be properly humbled, even if I still didn’t know why. I looked around at the others surrounding me. Tick, Tock, and Amy glared at Nero, their arms crossed in silent protest; Otis drummed his fingers on the table, his simple face troubled; Kammy looked away when my eyes found her; my father watched me with an amused expression, undoubtedly still playing my words over in his head. Ever my mouthy son, I’m sure he thought. The two who I’d yet to meet but who’d still jumped to my defense, the old woman and the black man, waited for me to continue, and then there was Seven. It always came back to him. I had a feeling it always would.

He stood rock solid and stiff as I turned in his arms, the fire in his eyes still directed toward Nero. I reached up to his face, not caring that I was surrounded by people who were essentially strangers, and pulled his face down toward me. His eyes softened when they found mine, his jaw relaxed, and his brow smoothed. The ocean stared back at me, and I knew what I would ask then, and I knew he would tell me.

“In a moment,” I told him quietly, never taking my hand from his face, “I am going to ask you to tell me everything. And you will.”

His eyes squeezed shut and his breath grew ragged. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he said, his voice rough and low.

“Look at me.”

He did, his eyes pained.

“How can I hate a man that bought me Cup-A-Soup?” I teased, a smile on my face.

His eyes bulged as he laughed silently. I was glad.

“Before you do this, I still don’t know who these people are,” I said, pointing at the black man and the old woman. They smiled at me, anticipation growing on their faces.

Seven took me by the shoulders and pulled me to them. The old woman reached out her hands and covered mine, bringing them up to her lips in a gentle kiss. It touched me greatly. “This is Edna Brunelle,” Seven said in my ear. “She is a Fire Elemental, one of the most powerful in the world. She will be your Magister, your teacher in the ways of fire.” I smiled at her and she grinned back, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Felix,” she said. “I can see why Seven won’t let you go. If I was thirty years younger, you bet your sweet ass I’d be all over that.”

There was a beat of silence before laughter erupted throughout the room. Seven’s jaw dropped as he stared down at the little woman as she reached around and squeezed the supposed object of her desires.

“If only you were a man,” I said, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I doubt even then,” she said confidently. She stepped away

The black man stepped forward, his long limbs swinging gracefully.

“This is Dan Evans. He’s the Wind Elemental who will be training you alongside Edna,” Seven said.

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” Dan told me seriously.

“Thank God for that,” Seven grumbled. I punched him in the arm. He pretended to wince.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I told them. “I’ve kind of had a bad day, what with getting me pushed off a building and all.”

“I’ve had a great day,” Seven growled at me, his hands on the back of my head. Dan and Edna watched us knowingly, the happiness in their eyes evident. As a matter of fact, the majority of the people in the room seemed happy to see me, save Kammy and Nero. They watched me with dark expressions, and I wondered why. I thought I already had Kammy figured out, even to the point that I knew it was she who Seven had been talking to when I’d awoken in the car after escaping from the Cantio Building.

You knew going into this what would happen, he whispered in my head, a memory rising gently. I can’t stop what’s meant to be. I wouldn’t even if I could.

Jealousy flared through me again, dark and unfamiliar. I tried to push it away, but it took root near my heart, sprouting gently and quietly but roaring all the same. I didn’t know what their relationship was (or is? the voice teased me gently) and I wanted to ask Seven about it as soon as we were alone. I swallowed the bile that threatened to rise.

Nero, on the other hand, had a calculating look on his face, a predatory expression that sent chills down my spine. His eyes flickered briefly as I glanced at him, and doubt seeded next to the jealousy and intertwined, the roots growing deeper. I didn’t trust him, but I didn’t know if it was just his words or if Seven had already influenced me with his thoughts against the Council.

I turned back to Seven. He waited for me to speak. Part of me didn’t want to know what he would say. I thought it would just be easier to have it remain a secret. After all, it had already been kept for twenty-five years; what was the rest of my life? But I knew I would ask, and I knew he would answer. It had to be done, because an even greater part of me was hungry for the truth. Jase had been right: I was waiting for something. And these people would give it to me.

“Seven,” I said quietly. “Tell me what I am.”

His eyes clouded for a moment, his insecurity showing through. I hoped when he finished that I would still be able to look at him.

I hoped he would still be able to look at me.

ONCE, there was nothing. And then, there was the Tree.

The Tree sat at the center of everything. No one knows where It came from, or why It came to be. Call It God if you want, or desire, or fate, or maybe It just came to be simply because It wanted to. It really doesn’t matter how It came, or even why. It was there and that was all that mattered.

The Tree grew and grew and grew until It could grow no more. The branches shook, and the trunk groaned, and sap leaked from the bark, like blood from a wound. It was heavy, then, too heavy to support Its own weight any further. It shook Its branches, and from them fell three things: a drop of the clearest water, glistening brilliantly; a seed from the highest branch, splitting open and flowering as it dropped; and sap, mottled and dark until it burst into flames, streaking from the trunk. All were caught on a draft created by the swaying of the branches. They fell before the Tree and struck Its deep roots and blossomed.

Gnopher came from the seed; Sylpha from the wind; Ondine burst from the drop of water; Salamandeir from the burning Tree sap. They were Prima, the Firsts, and it is said they laughed at the Tree, rooted in place as they flitted freely around It. The Tree warned them to not take their positions lightly, for It had bestowed upon them great power, but they laughed and laughed and laughed.

Then they became bored.

Gnopher was Earth, and he wanted something to put his feet on. He waved his hands across the empty space, and there became the world. Salamandeir shook his head and figured he could do better than his brother. He raised his hands to the sky and brought fire. It shaped the land and created life, as fire is not always destruction, but cleansing rebirth. Sylpha knew she could make it better and blew over the world and let the life breathe. But as soon as it began to breathe, it began to die. Ondine stepped in and rained down from the sky, and the world flourished.

The Tree admonished their creation, calling it a slight to Its eye, an annoying little thing that ruined Its view of all that blackness It so loved. They laughed at the Tree again, calling It a silly old thing. The Tree warned them that those they had created were volatile things, things that would lose their tempers, that had a fixation on the beauty of destruction. They watched as time and time again the Tree proved to be right. Man became angry and killed his brothers and sisters. A great darkness rose then, and one Man decided he wanted all he could see to be his.

The Prima whispered amongst themselves, far away from the long-reaching ears of the Tree, devising ways to protect the world they had created. They decided to bestow one being in the world with a portion of their powers, one being who could rise against the darkness. They understood for every evil, there had to be an opposite. They would not give all their powers, all at once, because it would be too much for one to handle on his own. Two would each give at a time. They might have been young, but the Firsts could understand the way of the world.

They decided against Man, because he was angry and destructive. So they gave it to Woman. She was born as all were, but as she grew, she had the power of Earth and Fire, as they were the first. She grew into a lovely young Woman, and she was strong and powerful, and she rose against the dark, fighting it back as well as she could, but it was too strong for her to take alone.

The Prima convened again, loath to interfere in what they had created but wanting to help the Woman. They watched her for a time and saw her find a Man, a Man that caused her heart to quicken, her eyes to light up. They were amused at first, watching her grow to love him and he to love her in return. So silly, the ways of people, they thought. What comforts they seek in each other. They did not want another to have the Woman’s power, so they gave the Man a different gift instead: they made him her heart sworn, Iuratum Cor. He could not shift the Elements as the Woman could, but his presence gave her greater power, greater control of the Elements. With the Man at her side, she fought back the darkness, banishing it to where it came from. But this troubled the Prima; where had it come from?

They knew the Tree had warned them against the violence of Man, and they returned to It, asking questions, begging for answers. The Tree refused. They left It, discouraged. They watched as the Woman and Man grew old together before passing into the next world hand in hand. But again, as it always seems to do, the darkness rose, and they gave their power to another Woman. Again she found her heart sworn, and again she was victorious. The third time, the Woman died, lost to the darkness. But the Firsts had planned for this. Once the Woman fell, the Man, her heart sworn, received her abilities (for he understood the power better than any other Man could), and he defeated the darkness. He was Iuratum Cor, incapable of the corruption of those around him.

This went on again and again and again. The Prima, unable to do much else, created the Split One, the Halved Mind, over and over. They could not stop, because the darkness would not stop. The Tree ignored their pleas, and to protect what they had created, they gave the power to those born of the Elements: Earth, Fire, Water, Wind.

SEVEN stopped talking then, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Was that really it?

They all watched me expectantly.

“Uh.” I said. “Huh. That was… a neat story. Truly riveting.” And stupid.

Seven rolled his eyes and cuffed me upside the back of the head. “Don’t be an ass,” he told me, but I could see the hint of mirth in his eyes.

I smiled at him. “So what you’re saying is that I am a reincarnated woman made by spirits that fell from a big tree that floats in space. Remember when we talked about you being in a cult?”

Almost everyone in the room burst out laughing, and Seven leaned in to me and whispered for only me to hear: “And remember, I have to tie you up now.”

I cursed him quietly, dirty thoughts in my head.

“Felix,” Edna said, “it’s just a story that gets passed down amongst Elementals. It doesn’t necessarily mean that is how the world was made or even that we get our abilities from four floating demigods. But like all myths, it is buried and mixed in with truth.”

I eyed them curiously. “And the truth being what? What’s the problem with it?”

She smiled weakly. “The problem is the truth in it. It has created a stolid dogmatic belief, one that has permeated throughout the centuries.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, curious now. “What is the truth?”

Seven watched me with sad eyes. “The truth, little man, is that every few generations the Split One is born again, with the Halved Mind and the dual Elemental abilities. The birth of Findo Unum always coincides with a created contradiction of the Split One’s nature.”

I was tired of veiled responses. “Meaning what?”

“It means that whenever one such as you is born, there is a threat to the order of the world,” Edna said gently. “Think of it as Yin and Yang, light and dark.” She paused. “Good and evil, but that just sounds clichéd and trite,” she said, sniffing delicately. “It actually all sounds clichéd and trite.”

I laughed, trying to hang on to my humor. “It does. Especially when you throw in that we’re all descendants of a Tree.”

“You should take this far more seriously than you are.” Nero scowled. “It’s obvious you do not appreciate the position that you’re in.”

“He didn’t know the position he was in until today,” Seven snapped. “And that was a decision made by the Council.”

“Should we speak of decisions and actions now?” Nero asked Seven, coldly amused. “Maybe we should tell Felix about your actions. Maybe then he would understand.”

“I’m standing right here, you know,” I told both of them dryly. “Seven, you may know a lot about me, but you should also know that when people talk about me like I’m not in the room, that really pisses me off.”

He rolled his eyes and gripped me tighter.

“So who was the Split One before me?” I asked the room.

Glances were exchanged, and I chose to ignore them. Either they would tell me or they wouldn’t. I was tired of pulling answers like teeth. Edna finally spoke: “Her name was Nancy Percival, an Englishwoman born in the early part of the twentieth century. She was an Earth and Wind Elemental, one of the most powerful that ever existed.”

I nodded slowly. “And the great darkness, then, I assume, was the events in Europe at the time?”

“Yes,” Edna said. “She fought in World War I and was instrumental in the Allies’ victory over the Central Powers. She helped to found the League of Nations in hopes of preventing another outbreak, but even she couldn’t predict the future.” Edna smiled sadly. “She was killed in a bombing raid in Hamburg in July of 1943 while assisting  civilian Elementals trying to get out of Germany. The Nazis were attempting to round up as many Elementals as they could for dissection and vivisection, wanting to understand how the Elementals could control what they could, wanting to glean the secrets of their blood. Three thousand Elementals were killed during both World Wars. Nancy was trying to get a group of them to safety when the RAF and US forces bombed Hamburg. She was among the almost fifty thousand people that were killed there.”

“She was killed by her own people?”

“They supposedly didn’t know she was there,” Dan said quietly. “But there are some who think the bombing was planned because she was there, that it was nothing more than an assassination plot by people who felt she was too powerful to control.”

“What happened then? And where was her Iuratum Cor when this happened?”

Seven leaned in suddenly, pressing his lips against my forehead. There was desperation behind it, and it worried me. I pulled back from him, trying to get his anxious face to look at me, but he would only gaze down at our joined hands, petting my arm as if he needed reassurance.

“Seven?” I asked cautiously.

“She never found hers,” he muttered, still staring at our hands. “Most times, they don’t find them at all.”

At that moment, I couldn’t really grasp the terror running through his mind. I was still new to this world that he’d grown up in, surrounded by Elementals and those that knew of them. My father had kept their secrets, for reasons that had yet to be explained. But the look in Seven’s eyes, the way they dilated with fear, and the blown look he had on his face that showed he dreamed of moments I never even knew of, knocked the breath from me, and I was struck again by the depths of his regard for me. I wondered at those feelings then, wondered just how far down the rabbit hole they went.

“But you found me, huh?” I whispered to him, trying to bring him back to me. “’Cause you stalked me, yeah?”

He nodded tightly, a thin smile on his face. Maybe this is what I did for him, maybe it was my job to bring him back from the brink. I remembered when I’d seen him the night before (was it really only the night before? Christ, it seemed like years) when he’d said he’d been crazy before he found me, but that things were about to change. I thought his insanity might be as deep as his blind devotion.

I touched his cheek as I turned back to Edna. “What is the Iuratum Cor?

She studied us closely for a moment before glancing at Eric and speaking. “The Iuratum Cor is the heart sworn, usually referred to as the mate of the Findo Unum, although it can be referred to as well as the Split One. Every time the Split One is born, there will be someone like Seven: massive in stature, dominant in personality to the point of obsession. A man whose sole purpose is to protect what is his. If both are known, they are not allowed to meet until the Split One reaches eighteen years of age, what is considered to be the age of reason.”

But he found you before then, didn’t he? it whispered. He came for you as a child the night you burned your mother. Maybe that’s why he didn’t find you when you reached the so-called Age of Reason. Maybe it was his punishment.

Nero, I thought. You son of a bitch.

“But beyond that,” Dan said, “the heart sworn can enhance the power of the Halved Mind merely with his presence. Felix, you’re going to find that you are a more powerful Elemental now that Seven is by your side. He will also be able to keep you calm and level-headed. We don’t really understand why, but then these effects have never been able to be studied using modern science. The last time the Split One found her heart sworn, it was 1796, during the French Revolutionary Wars. But we believe there is something hardwired in your genetics that in addition to being able to control fire and wind, is able to recognize Seven for what he is to you. Call it pheromones, or fate, or whatever you will. It’s there and it is almost impossible to fight.”

Almost impossible, I thought. So it is possible.

“And then there’s the matter of your death,” Nero interrupted.

Seven growled. Otis frowned. Kammy was unreadable. The Clock Twins rolled their eyes. Amy scowled, and my father looked frightened. The ones who would be Magisters—my teachers—looked troubled and defiant.

“My what?” I asked, sure I hadn’t heard correctly.

“Your death,” Nero repeated. “Since you have found your Iuratum Cor, should you die before he does, your abilities will supposedly pass along to him.”

“Not that I care anything about that,” Seven spat. “I would rather die than have to assume his powers. Having him safe is all that fucking matters to me.”

“You never were a very ambitious man,” Nero said coldly. “Or rather, your ambitions lay beyond the realm of probability. I warned you, even as a child, that you would have to prepare for every eventuality. But you refused, only wanting to focus on the superfluous, the meaningless attachment that fools mistake as fate and destiny when it is really just jumbled chance.”

“You would become Split?” I asked Seven, ignoring Nero. I was quickly finding out why we didn’t like the Council, especially if Nero was representative of them as a whole.

Seven looked back at me, pained. “Not by choice,” he said. “I would rather have you here any day than have to be reminded you were gone.” He was so sincere and earnest with his words that I couldn’t help but smile. I patted his arm. Then another thing struck me, something that I should have noticed sooner.

“How many men have been Findo Unum?” I asked the room, not caring who would answer.

Silence.

I looked around, waiting for a response, but all eyes were focusing on everything but me. I turned to Seven, and his eyes were closed as he took in a deep breath. “Seven? How many?”

He sighed. “None.”

“What? I’m the first?” I asked, my voice rising. “What about when one of them died and their heart sworn took over?”

He shook his head, eyes still closed. “There’s only been the one that we know of, but it’s from the legend and it has never been verified. So technically, you’re the first.”

I was shocked at this and sickly bemused (never before a man, but the first time is a gay guy? Someone somewhere had a really twisted sense of humor) as I tried to focus on this new revelation. For some reason, this stuck with me more than anything else I’d heard, and I wondered at it. Then, I could see Kammy watching Seven from the corner of her eye, and a memory rose out of fire—
you’re a boy? i dreamt of you but… but i never thought….

—and I knew in my heart what I thought was correct, and as it broke, as I stood up and away from Seven, I turned back to him. His eyes snapped open, and he saw my expression, and his face darkened in anger as he rose to follow me. I shook my head in warning and took another step back.

“Felix, whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop—” he started.

“You’re straight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice overlapping his. I felt fooled, tricked, and angry.

Give him a chance to explain, it begged. Don’t you dare think about walking away from him. I shoved it back under the flare.

“Yes, he is,” Kammy said, her voice sharp and smug. Her eyes flashed at me as her lips curled up. I wondered then what she would look like with her hair on fire, but I pushed that thought away.

“You stay out of this,” Seven ordered, his voice angry.

“You’ve no right to speak to my daughter that way!” Nero shouted. “Not after how you led her on, making her believe you cared about her!”

Daughter? I thought wildly as I backed away from Seven. That explains a lot. Seven took another step toward me, as one would do when approaching a spooked animal. I don’t want you to hate me, he’d said. How could I hate him? He couldn’t help who he was any more than I could. And I would be damned if I was going to have him force himself to want me. I thought back over his hands on my body, the way he’d responded. How could I think he wanted me? He was probably thinking of her the whole time.

It’s almost impossible to fight.

“Felix,” he said, his voice low.

“Back off,” I hissed at him. I could feel the others around me. I could see the expressions on their faces. I didn’t want their pity; I didn’t need their sorrow. So what if I was the first male Findo Unum born? So what if Seven had been raised thinking he was going to get the girl of his dreams, probably with long flowing hair and the ever important set of girl parts? Someone like Kammy. Hell, even someone like Edna would be more along the lines of what he needed.

Just listen! it bellowed in my head, but I couldn’t. The room had taken on a brightness I’d not known before, and I felt my vision become cold and concise. If he wouldn’t get out of my way, if he wouldn’t let me run, then I would knock him across the room. I had the power to do it. I was darkly amused when I told myself not to push too hard, that I didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Everyone out,” Seven snarled, never taking his eyes from me as he stalked me slowly across the room, matching every methodical step I took. I hated him. No one moved. “Now!” he roared. He knew what I was capable of, what was in my head and heart. He knew what I was thinking, even as I thought it. I would have destroyed this room to get away from him. He was protecting all of them. From me.

Without another word, Otis began to usher everyone out of the room, ignoring the shouted protests that emanated from Nero. As soon as he had shoved the last person out, Otis walked over to me. I flinched and growled when he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stand still. The ring finger on my left hand twitched as I considered blowing him across the room. I could have, so easily. But then he looked at me sternly, his simple mind so much more infinite then my own.

“Yull listen to Seven,” he said, poking me hard in the chest. “He’s waited for ya for a long time.” He didn’t let me go until I nodded.

Otis turned to face Seven. “And ya… yull be nice to little Felix!” he yelled. “He’s had a bad day!” Otis crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for Seven to respond. Seven struggled to keep his anger in check, and he finally nodded, once up and once down. Otis looked like he didn’t believe him, but instead of yelling at him some more, he wrapped his gigantic arms around Seven, who squawked as even he was dwarfed by Otis’s size. “Ya make him understand,” I could hear Otis growl into Seven’s ear. “Ya don’t let him go away. I’ll be sad. Yull be sad. It’s like when we were kids. Ya were sad when ya had to go away from him. Do ya remember?”

Seven nodded, his eyes closing.

“Ya were sad and I was sad. I don’t want us to be sad anymore, Sevvy. Make him understand.” Otis lifted Seven off his feet and swung him around once before setting him back down. He looked at me and winked as he left the room, closing the big doors behind him.

Then it was just the two of us. Me and Captain Hetero of the Straight Brigade.

I glared at him, a scowl on my face as he watched me wearily. Wasn’t it just peachy that I, the only fucking Split Mind Half Bastard Bullshit in the world, supposedly was linked and destined to a straight guy? I knew God (if there was a God—apparently, in my world, God was a big Tree that birthed those that created me; how esoteric is that?) was pointing at me and laughing: Ha ha, Felix! Not only did you kill your mother, but now you’re fated to be with a man who can never want you like you’ll want him! Ha ha! Welcome to your own personal hell!

“Felix,” Seven said, his voice hard, his movements fluid, like a large cat. I hated cats.

“What?”

“You will come to me,” he ordered.

“And you will go fuck yourself, big guy,” I sneered, putting the table between us. “I’m sure Kammy is waiting for you outside.”

And then, unbelievably, he laughed.

My eyes narrowed. “What’s so goddamn funny?” Asshole.

He wiped his hands over his eyes as he chuckled. “You’re jealous,” he grinned at me. “I didn’t think it would be so hot to have you be jealous.”

“You think this is a joke?” I was stunned, incredulous. Here I was having my heart shattered (and when was the exact moment it had let itself be put in that position?) and he was laughing at me?

He shook his head and took another step toward me, around the table. I stepped away, matching him step for step. “It’s not a joke,” he said, still smiling. “I just didn’t think you could ever be as bitter about that kind of thing as I was with you.”

“You’re straight,” I accused him. “You don’t get to be jealous of anything around me.”

He shrugged. “And yet, it’s there. And notice how I never said I was gay. Or straight.”

I rolled my eyes. “I believe that people can shoot fire from their hands. I may even believe your idiotic story about a Tree that got bored and made the Firsts. But I don’t believe in bisexuals. That’s not a real thing.” Still he smiled, and that made me even angrier.

“I don’t like labels,” he said, dropping his voice until it was low and husky. His eyes began to flare, and I knew he was enjoying this moment, his hunting of me. For that was exactly what he was doing, his advances molten as he stalked me like small prey through the underbrush. Only he knew as well as I did that his prey had teeth and would fight back. But this only seemed to egg him on.

“I love labels,” I retorted. “Findo Unum? Halved Mind? I’m simply rife with labels.”

He came upon a chair near the edge of the conference table, and without looking down, he knocked it out of his way, sending it crashing across the room. “Come here,” he said.

“No.”

“Felix.”

“Seven.” I saw the doors out of the corner of my eye and began to inch my way toward them. I should have known he would be too smart not to see where I was headed.

“I will chase you,” he promised, his eyes dancing.

“I don’t like to be chased.”

“Then don’t run.”

“You wish,” I scowled.

I turned and bolted for the door, my mind racing and bellowing as I raised my left hand to blow a hole into the wall if I had to, the blood boiling in my ears. But it was over even before it began. How he moved so fast that day I don’t think I’ll ever know. Maybe he knew had I escaped from him he would have never seen me again. Maybe he knew what was in my head and heart, the ensign around my neck like an inferno against my skin. You are my heart, it shouted as it burned. Even before I could reach the door, even before I could summon the winds in my head, his arms wrapped around me and spun me around, his mouth dropping onto mine in a kiss like I’d never before experienced, not even with him. My eyes widened, and I gasped into his mouth as he poured everything he had into me. I could feel the room around me fade as the buzzing kicked into my head again. My soul was seared, my heart so much dust in the wind, my eyes stinging as they burst with fresh water. His hand found the back of my head, and he pressed down harder as if he wanted me to disappear into him, to have me possess him from the inside out. His tongue parted my sealed lips, and I fought as best I could. But maybe the Magisters were right: it wasn’t just the lust that overrode me, or the ferocity of his kiss. It felt like it belonged on a molecular level, like every atom in my body was screaming for the connection he so tenuously placed against me. I was hot and shocked, lightning-struck as electricity arced up and down my spine. I resolutely forced my hands to stay at my sides, but genetics cannot be reasoned with, they cannot be argued against.

I knew the moment he felt me start to respond, because his breath quickened and he smiled against my face, the rumble in his chest as loud as I’d ever heard. It went from him into me, and I vibrated at the savagery of it as it traveled from my mouth to my chest, to my cock, to my toes. I began to shake against him, and I opened my eyes, only to find the ocean staring back at me, deep and wild, violent, as if a hurricane raged over it. I groaned then, against my will, and my body betrayed me again as I jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I felt his length, hard and hot against my leg, and I was intense, vicious. I would show him. I would fuck him within an inch of his life, and then I would knock him across the room and leave him. He would never forget who he was fucking with.

Oh, Felix, it said to me as it chuckled. It’s funny you should think so.

He carried me toward the table, and without pulling his violent mouth away from mine, he reached down with one giant paw and knocked the table clear, papers and pens and whatever else sent flying across the room to the floor. He released my mouth, and I rocked my head back as he snarled against my neck, biting and sucking, minute capillaries underneath exploding as blood rushed toward my skin. My whole body felt hot, like a summer storm, the flare in my chest burned, the wind in my head a tempest like I’d never known. He didn’t bother to lift my shirt up, that shirt he’d said to wear because he liked how I looked in it. Instead, as he laid his mark against my neck, he reached down with both hands and tore it at the collar, ripping it down the middle, baring my chest and stomach. Then his hands touched my skin, and it was like he was pulling the fire from my chest as it burned across my nipples, my ribs, the crest of my stomach. His tongue dragged down my neck into the hollow of my throat, and I was mind-blown, my hands on the back of his head, my voice distant and encouraging as I hissed and roiled underneath him.

“You don’t ever doubt me again,” he said hoarsely before his mouth grazed my nipples, first the left and then the right. His scruffy beard scraped the skin beneath raw as he went back and forth. “I will fucking kill you if you ever doubt me again!” he snarled. My eyes rolled back into their sockets at the weight of his words, the desperation in his voice matching the desperation in my movements. I moaned as he bit my nipple harder, almost chewing it between his teeth. I was trapped underneath him, and even though I knew I could push him away, I also knew I wouldn’t. “You answer me when I’m talking to you!” he roared.

“I won’t,” I breathed, my hands in his short hair. “Oh, God, I won’t.”

“You won’t what!”

“I will never doubt you again!”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Seven muttered, licking and biting the skin around the bandages across my ribs. “I’ve waited too goddamn long to take any bullshit from you.” His eyes were black as they found mine. He sneered at me and then dropped his mouth on mine again, finding no resistance. He lifted me off the table and spun me around and sat on the edge, my legs still wrapped around him, my ass in his lap. He reached down between us with his giant hand and palmed my dick through my jeans. “You won’t fucking run anymore,” he said. “This is your home.” He reached up his other hand and gripped my face, pressing down hard against my cheeks.

I nodded.

“Say it!”

I watched the black ocean in his eyes and saw the flash behind them and understood what he had meant the night before, about the insanity that had gripped him. He was not so far gone as to be lost, but he was close, and I knew it had come from me turning my back on him as I had started to flee. Whether I wanted to or not, I anchored him to this world, and I was the only thing he’d known, maybe for his whole life. He had watched me, yes, he had stalked me, oh yes, but it had driven him to the edge. I inhaled sharply at the wildness I saw in him, the despair that was threatening to rise.

“I won’t run,” I whispered as I watched an angry tear trickling from his eye. I leaned forward and licked it away.

“And why not?”

“Because this is my home.”

“And?”

“And because you are my home.” Part of me still wanted to run, part of me was frightened to absolute death at the promise of my words, but I couldn’t fight what I was made for. Because even though I knew I was made to battle against some still unnamed darkness, and even though I was made to protect (lead? follow?) the people that called this Station their home, I knew it was all secondary to the fact that I was made for him.

“We’re going downstairs now,” he whispered heatedly in my ear. “And you’re going to show me how much this is your home. How this is our home. You are mine and you’re going to show me how much. Do you understand?”

I shivered against him as I agreed, clutching his strong shoulders, his massive arms around me as he stood and carried me swiftly from the room.

Chapter 6

The central fire is desire, and all the powers of our being
are given to us to see, to fight for, and to win the object
of our desire. Quench that fire and man turns to ash.

—Basil W. Maturin

SOMEHOW, we met no one as he carried me to the elevators, my eyes never leaving his face, watching the curve of his jaw as it twitched, the way the vein pulsed against his forehead. He slapped his hand onto the scanner and it lit up, opening the elevator doors. He stepped inside and pushed the button for the third floor. Seven then turned and pressed me up against the wall, his breath hot against my neck.

“There are cameras in here,” I hissed at him as I arched my neck to give him better access.

“This is my fucking house,” he said, scowling against my skin. “I don’t give a shit who sees what.” He then bit in the same place he had before, darkening the bruise I already felt burning. I struggled against him, trying to press harder and to get away at the same time, but he held me solidly, his arms never allowing me to move. He pulled his head up, his eyes darkly surveying what I was sure was a mark covering my entire neck.

“You know,” I teased him breathlessly, “people are going to wonder how I fell onto that toner cartridge when they see that.”

“No, they won’t. They will see it and know I gave it to you.” He frowned at me as he waited for me to contradict him.

“And everyone here is fine with me?”

“They better be.” He paused, light slowly returning to his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You know, that I’m a guy.”

He rolled his eyes. “Most everyone here has known about you for years. They don’t care if you’re a guy. All they care about is that you are Findo Unum and that you have returned to them.”

“And you?”

“And I,” he said, grinning wickedly, “get to care about the rest.”

“Three days?” I asked him as I stretched in his arms.

Seven sighed. “Probably not now.” He set me down on my feet but didn’t release his hold of me. I pressed myself against his chest, and a thought rose unbidden—
she lay against him like this too

—but I pushed it away, not wanting to fight against the jealousy I felt anymore today. I closed my eyes and inhaled, that now familiar scent calming the struggle within me.

“Why not?” I muttered against his chest.

He sighed again. “Because Nero will expect you to appear before the Council tomorrow. They’ll want to speak with you before you’re able to do anything else. And that’s not something even I can stop.” The elevator stopped and opened up onto our floor. He pushed me out of the elevator and shoved me toward the bedroom. One-track mind, that man. I huffed at him, but he ignored me. I glanced out the far windows, startled to see it was dark and that snow still fell, whipping in the wind as it pressed against the glass.

“Are you going to be there with me?” I asked in a small voice, already imagining the eyes of the Council watching me with scorn.

He looked down at me, surprised. “Of course I’ll be there. They have no right to keep me away now, and I already told you: I go where you go. If they have a problem, they can go fuck themselves.” Even though we were alone on the floor, he closed the bedroom door behind us and locked it before turning back to me. I wondered who or what he was trying to keep out. He watched me a moment before blushing and averting his eyes.

“What?”

“That shirt,” he muttered as he walked past me. “That’s the only reason I wanted you to wear it.”

I looked down at the remains of the light V-necked sweatshirt that hung in ruins on my shoulders, my chest and stomach exposed. “I thought you said you liked this shirt,” I told him, indignant.

“Only because I wanted to rip it off of you,” he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you going to be hell on all my clothes?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“So you can rip those too?”

“I have a lot of money.”

“Gee, goody for you. I don’t think you need to blow your fortune on clothing that you only want to tear off of me. It kind of defeats the purpose of being able to own nice things.”

“Then don’t look good when you wear them,” he retorted, nervously tapping his thighs as he stared down at the bed.

“You realize that you make no sense whatsoever,” I told him. I walked past him, and as soon as I knew his eyes were on me, I reached up with one hand and unbuttoned the top button on my jeans and with the other hand removed the remains of the shirt, letting it drop to the floor. I could feel his gaze on my back, burning a hole through me as I raised my arms and stretched, feeling my back pop as it settled. I crawled on my knees onto the bed and then leaned back against the headboard, my legs crossed at the ankles. He fidgeted, unsure of what to do.

“Are you coming to bed?” I asked him innocently.

“In a minute,” he ground out before running to the bathroom. I smiled to myself as I heard him tearing through the drawers and cabinets. I closed my eyes until I heard his footsteps approaching and felt his shadow darkening my face.

“I sleep on the right side of the bed,” I told him without opening my eyes.

“Okay,” he said. There was a tinge in his voice that made me need to see him, and I opened my eyes. He stood above me, his hands clenched at his sides. I struggled not to laugh at the brand-new bottle of lube in his left hand and the unopened box of condoms in his right. He watched me, his expression dark.

“Just buy those?” I asked lightly.

He nodded once.

“Had it all worked out in your mind, did you?”

He nodded again.

“Have you ever fucked a man, Seven?”

He shook his head, his right hand squishing the box of condoms as he tightened his grip.

“And… this is what you want?” I looked at his face then, watching for any signs of doubt. There were none as he nodded again.

I opened my arms. “Come here,” I said softly.

It was like he had been waiting for me to say just those words. He dropped the lube and condoms and landed on top of me, burying his face in my chest as he breathed me in. His hands rubbed up and down my body, ever careful of the bandages and the bruising underneath. There was nothing sexual about this exploration, at least not yet. He was merely feeling me, as if to make sure I was real. I let him, my hands finding the scruff of his hair, the beard on his face. He rumbled again, the sound great and deep as he sighed against me.

“Felix,” he said, his lips against my skin.

“Yeah?”

“Before… before we do, you know. Anything.”

I hid my grin. “Yeah?”

“There are things… things you should know. About me.”

I reached down and cupped his face, ignoring the twinge in my ribs as I pulled his gaze up to mine. “Tell me.”

He tried to remove his face from my grip, but I held tight. “If you want to leave when I’m finished, I won’t stop you,” he said, the sadness in his voice ripping through me. “I know I can be… intense… but I never want you to be forced to stay here.”

I felt a chill but I pushed it away. “Seven, you can’t say one thing, then do another. Either you want me here or you don’t.”

His eyes widened at that, and he shook his head as he reached up to put his hand over mine. “I will always want you here,” he said. “In this place, this room, this bed.”

“But?”

“But I can’t force you.”

I cocked my head at him. “And if I want you to?”

His eyes searched mine, looking for any truth to my words. He must have liked what he found because he smiled softly and pressed a sweet kiss to my bandaged chest.

“Take off your shirt,” I ordered. He sat up instantly, his hands going behind his neck as he lifted it up and over his head. I gaped at the body I’d only so far felt through miles of unnecessary fabric. Dark hair was matted across his chest, swirling around his flat dark nipples as it thinned out on his stomach and disappeared into the top of his jeans. His stomach was flat and ridged, the muscles contracting as he breathed in raggedly. I raised my eyes to his massive chest, the hair that tufted out gently from under his thick biceps. There was a small mole on his right side, near the V of his stomach. A white scar stretched a few inches across his chest. He was beautiful, and I closed my mouth before I started drooling.

“Is this okay?” he said looking down at himself, again uncharacteristically shy. I wondered which was the real Seven: the hardened exterior that got off on bossing me around, or the one I saw now, a boy who seemed insecure, unsure about what he offered.

“It’s perfect,” I croaked out. His head snapped up and the grin returned. There was the smug bastard again. “Now come here.”

He crawled over me on his hands and knees, his eyes never leaving mine as he lowered his mouth to my stomach. He dragged his tongue up my body, sending gooseflesh throughout that caused me to shake. He smiled to himself as he saw his handiwork on my neck. He reached out and ghosted his fingers along the burn, obviously proud at marking me. He leaned down with his fingers still on my throat, kissing me gently, unhurried and kind. I tasted him and let him taste me before I pushed him off me. He fell to my left, which he knew would now be his side of the bed. He laughed as he pulled me with him. I lay on my spot in the hollow of his throat.

“Seven?”

“Yeah?”

“Is the story about you?”

“Yes.”

A pause

“Seven?”

“Yeah?”

“Leave nothing out. I need to hear it all.”

“Even if….” His voice trailed off.

“Even if,” I agreed. “I would know all there is to know. About you, about us.”

And so he did. By the time he had finished, all I could think of were the last words he’d said to me the night my mother died. They sang through my head and my heart, and I ached for the boy who became the man I now held. As I heard the story of Seven, his words came back to me, and they were like a gift.

You are not alone in this.

It starts, like most stories, at the beginning.

HE’S six years old the first time he learns he is different from everyone else. It comes as a pleasant shock, this change in how he views the world. He watched his family around him able to bend and change the elements at will: fire, bright and hot; water, fluid and cool; earth, dark and deep; and wind—his favorite—that could blow gentle breezes through his hair or create a tornado of epic proportions. He’d been upset, naturally, when he saw his father shift the earth, when he saw his mother able to manipulate water. Even his grandpa, a cankerous old man named Ezra who was missing his front teeth (and, as Seven’s mother said disdainfully on more than one occasion, part of his mind) and only seemed to love and respect his grandson, was an Earth Elemental.

And Seven? The only way Seven can move earth is if he picks it up and throws it; even then, it doesn’t go very far. It has gnawed at him, his lack of talent, and has made for many sleepless nights, wondering why God or Whoever decided that he should be the normal one, that he didn’t deserve the gifts his family had.

One morning starts like any other at the Portandum Station: his mother wakes him up on the third floor where they live, telling him to get up and get ready for school, that he’s going to be late if he doesn’t move his butt. He groans, wanting nothing more than to sink his head down into the pillow and pull the covers up and over his head. It’s snowing outside and it’s cold; the floors undoubtedly would be even colder. If I was a Fire Elemental, he thinks, I would probably never be cold. His mom calls over her shoulder as she leaves the room, telling him she won’t ask him again to get up. He knows this means he has three more minutes before she tells him again and he curls back under the covers.

He rides down the elevator on his way to school in the subbasement. The door opens and Otis is waiting for him, tapping his foot impatiently. Seven grins at his best friend (even though they’d just met the month before, Seven already knows Otis will be a friend for life—he doesn’t know how he knows this, he just does) and waves. Otis scowls. “You tried to sleep in again, didn’t you? You’re so lazy!”

Seven rolls his eyes and babbles happily at Otis. He loves his friend, and even though he is an Elemental too, Seven feels no jealousy. Otis is smart and tough and already towers over the other kids.

School is boring, what with math and science and reading and writing. Seven doesn’t know it then, but his school is much more advanced than the schools outside the Station. While most six-year-olds are coloring and listening to stories and getting naptime, Seven and his classmates are learning fractions and the Civil War. They do experiments with beakers and Bunsen burners (although, Otis and Seven are on restriction with the Bunsen burners—something about lighting their desk on fire), and they study art and music.

But it is still school, and Seven is still six years old, so of course it’s boring! Of course it’s mundane! He struggles to stay awake through a movie about the human reproduction system (although he does perk up a bit when they talk about babies—he thinks it’s fascinating and gross) when the lights suddenly come on and several sets of parents enter the room, his own included. They speak quietly to the teacher, their eyes darting around, finding their children. Seven cocks his head, thinking about what it could be. Did something bad happen? Is he in trouble? He hasn’t even done anything since the whole Bunsen burner thing! And that wasn’t even his fault! He groans, and Otis snickers next to him, his smile wide. Seven flips him off secretly, and Otis busts out laughing at Seven’s audacity to do such a Bad Thing. Seven turns back to his parents, who are watching him now, their eyes wary but determined. He is called forward by his father, and as he hears the other parents call their children, he realizes that all those being pulled from the class are the Normals (that hated word used to describe those born of Elemental parents but without their own abilities. Later it would be used to describe all non-Elementals), and his heart sinks. Is he going to have to go away because he’s not like everyone else? He glances back fearfully at Otis, who is moving to his feet, obviously meaning to lash out and protect Seven. Seven shakes his head, and Otis clenches his fists but stays where he is.

His mother and father take him by the shoulders and lead him down the hallway. The same thing is happening with the older Normals as well, all the way up through the great hulking teenagers who look bored and annoyed with their relatives. Questions are asked—Where are we going? What are we doing? Am I in trouble? Because I swear I didn’t do it!—but no responses are given, the parents quiet and solemn. They’re led up the stairs and into the chambers for the Consilium Elementorum, and even as his fear rises, Seven begins to get excited. He’s never been in here before! He’s heard so much about it through rumor and innuendo: the late-night meetings that the Council had to plot and plan the unknown, the secret missions they sent Elemental soldiers on, the rise to power of the Council’s youngest member, Nero Basileus. It is Nero he sees first, looking dashing and mysterious in his dark suit, seated at the head of the Council Table, the other members on either side of him.

Seven drinks them in and looks around at the others: there are boys and girls both the same age and older than him. No one seems to be above the age of seventeen, no one below the age of six. Some of the kids look scared and are crying, others are whispering quietly to each other, ignoring their parents’ glares. Still others are disinterested, as if they’d been able to come to the Council chambers every day. No one looks with the same wonder as he. Seven glances up at his parents, and he feels his fear flee him as they smile nervously down at him. He returns the smile and looks forward when Nero clears his throat.

“Children,” he says, his voice silky smooth and dark. “There is no reason to be frightened: a wonderful thing has occurred. Your parents have already been informed of the miracle, and it is why you have been brought before us today.”

Seven shivers in delight. What could it be? Did they find a scientific way to give the Normals the same abilities as their parents? Or perhaps God (because Seven believes in God and not that bunch of bullshit about a Great Tree) had come down from Heaven and decided the Normals had suffered enough and that in his Infinite Wisdom, he has decreed Normals shall be able to manipulate the Elements. His thoughts go further, but they all link a common thread, with the fact that he will no longer have to be Normal, because to be Normal is a curse, to be Normal is boring, and he hates it. His father has always told him it’s genetics, like why his hair is black and why his eyes are blue.

Seven is smart, but he’s still a child, and he believes if God really wanted him to have abilities, then Seven would have them. Since he doesn’t, then he’s done something wrong. This is what he has believed his entire short life. It has eaten him alive, and he is almost to his breaking point at the ripe old age of six.

But this: a miracle has occurred? Oh, God, he thinks reverently, Oh, thank you, God. His heartbeat quickens, and he feels his fingers tingling because he knows whatever happens will change things forever.

“The Findo Unum has been born,” Nero says, his voice echoing around the chambers, “out there in the world. The Unus Dimidiatus has returned.”

Seven is stunned. Of everything that could have been said, of all the possibilities circling his young mind, this announcement was the furthest away. He is a child of Elementals, he’s grown up around them all his life, so he knows the stories, he knows the legend of the Great Tree who gave life to Prima, the Firsts. He knows they created the world (or so it was said) and everything in it. He knows this, but he doesn’t believe it. What he does believe, however, is that the Split One has returned. Those are the stories he has listened to with bated breath, the idea of one woman controlling two elements at once the pinnacle of his life. (He did think, every now and then, how unfair it was for a woman to have two abilities when he didn’t even get to have one, but his anger in the matter always dissipated—he was a good boy, that Seven.) A dark voice calls up from inside him, reminding him that if the Halved Mind has returned, then legend tells that a great darkness will rise. He pushes this thought away, wondering why he, as one of the Normals, is in this room. Shouldn’t this be a celebration for everyone?

“You have all been brought here,” Nero says, “because you are the children of Elemental parents but have not powers of your own. History dictates that the Iuratum Cor, the heart sworn, will be chosen from one of you or those like you out there in the world. Every child will be tested, both male and female, in hopes that the heart sworn walks among us.”

Whatever Seven expected, it wasn’t this. He is a smart boy, a clever boy, but he never considered himself a protector or guardian, for that is exactly what he’s been told the Iuratum Cor truly is. He’s mature for his age (much to his mother’s dismay), but what does he know about love or passion, because isn’t that what it means to be heart sworn? He’s only six, for God’s sake! What does he want with a dumb girl who can do something he can’t?

He pleads silently with his parents to hide him, to take him away from this chamber and to hide him until this process is over and he could come out again and continue with what he called his life. They ignore his big eyes and focus intently on Nero. Seven scowls then, as Nero drones on (and on and on and on—if this is what the Council was like, Seven didn’t know why he ever wanted to be in here). He figures he will perform the tests they require with the most minimal amount of interest and then go back to class and tell Otis how stupid this whole thing was.

They are lined up randomly, their parents forced to wait in the Council chambers while the men and women of the council conduct the test themselves. Seven wonders briefly if the tests will hurt. He wonders if he could slip away unnoticed. He’s wondering why the girl in front of him is being tested (why are any girls being tested? Two women together? How would they do anything? You know, to each other?) when it is his turn.

An older woman smiles briefly at him as he enters the dimly lit room and asks him to sit in the chair across from her. Between them is a table with four wooden coins. One has a red flame, another a drop of blue water; a brown mountain adorns yet another, and a green tornado is on the last. They look worn and very old. He wants to know where they came from but can’t bring himself to ask because he is distracted by the fact that the fire moves on one of the coins, flickering and bright. The green tornado twists, whispering to him words he cannot understand.

“Pick two,” the old woman says, her voice kind. He looks back down at the table and sees the earth and water coins are inanimate, dull and lifeless. But the fire! Oh God, the fire, how it burns so beautifully, almost to the point where he can feel the heat rising from it. And the wind! How it moves with such grace, such destructive, determined grace that blows across his body. He points at the two coins that have called to him, and the old woman smiles widely, motioning that he enter a door to her left. He does, and out of the approximately twenty people that have gone before him, only two are in the room, both male, both older. They look at him with wide eyes, and he nods and sits against the wall with his head on his knees and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Three more boys come in over the next six hours, all older than Seven, all silent and somber. He doesn’t know if they did good or bad, if they’ve passed or failed. He wants to ask them if the flame had danced for them, if the wind had called their names, but he doesn’t. He thinks it may be a secret thing, a thing only for him. He also has to pee.

The door opens a final time, and it’s Nero. He sees the six boys in front of him and frowns, but it’s fleeting, and then he says: “You have all passed the first test. You will go with your parents and will return tomorrow for the second test. You will tell no one of what you may or may not have seen, not even your mothers or fathers. How you have come to be in this group is for you and you alone to know.” He stands aside, and the boys rush past him. Seven is the last to leave and he walks, his head held high.

Nero watches him closely.

That night, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall asleep, but as soon as his head hits the pillow, he is gone, falling into the middle of a green tornado made of fire, but he is not afraid because it soothes him, he doesn’t fear it because it feels like it is his own. He laughs as the tornado spins around him, tickling his hair, warming his face. It speaks then, saying “Seven, Seven, Seven,” and the whispers are enough to spill the joy from his heart.

He wakes the next morning, determined.

He doesn’t notice the worried expressions on his parents’ faces.

They return to the chamber, the five other boys and their parents following closely behind. Nero waits for them, his hands behind his back. He watches each boy for a moment, as if trying to read from them how they passed the first test. Again, Seven wonders if they all saw the moving fire, the churning wind. He schools his face as Nero stares at him. His gaze feels like something hungry is crawling over him, but Seven lets it go, thinking of his dream.

Nero looks away.

Later, he’s pulled into a different room, and this time there is a man with the older woman from yesterday. In front of them on a table is a map of the world, ten feet by ten feet, the ends held down by large old tomes that look like they haven’t been opened in a century. He walks slowly to the table, and the woman smiles at him, and the man raises his hand, motioning for Seven to take what he holds. Seven opens his palm, and the man drops a single pushpin into his hand. He looks down at Seven, gestures to the map spread out before them, and asks simply, “Where?”

Seven opens his mouth to ask “Where what?” but the man shakes his head, indicating he is to be silent, that no words are to be spoken until the task is complete. Seven feels nervous then, rolling the pin in his fingers as he stares at the man and woman in front of him. They do nothing. They say nothing. They give no hint, no respite. No one jumps out from the dark and says “Ha ha! This was all a joke, and you will be Normal forever! Normal Seven went to Heaven where he immediately tripped and fell! God said, ‘Gee you’re too Normal for me’ and sent him straight to hell!”

Seven looks down at the map. Nothing happens when he sees Japan. Nothing happens in all of Europe. Africa is dark. South America is blank. Mexico stays still. It’s not until his eyes roam over the USA that he sees a shimmer on the map in front of him. He glances up at the man and woman, but they are watching him blankly, waiting for him to choose. Seven looks back down at the map and follows the shimmering light as it grows in brilliance, a thin strand that leads him west. He can almost hear the voices that sang out from the ignited tornado that had blown into his dreams, and they are saying, “Seven” and they are singing, “Seven,” and he follows the trail until he’s somewhere over a state marked Oregon. His hand is shaking, and the voices are shouting in his head, and the light grows brighter still, and he slams his little fist onto the table, pushing the pin into a little town marked Damascus. The light explodes throughout the room, but only he can see it. The voices tremble inside him and then they are gone, and he exhales slowly. Seven looks back up at the man and woman, and their smiles are gone, replaced by quiet awe that permeates the room. The woman raises a trembling hand and points to the door, and he goes in, and this time he is alone. This time, no other boy comes in after him. He slumps to the floor, his back against the wall. He waits.

Two hours later, the door opens again and Nero walks in, his face a stony mask as he drags a chair behind him, the legs scraping along the ground. He puts the chair in front of Seven and sits. He studies Seven as one would if they’d discovered a new species of bug, unsure if it was poisonous. Seven feels cold under the watchful gaze, that knowing look.

“How did you do it?” Nero asks finally.

Seven thinks for a moment about playing dumb, but he pushes it away. He has earned his right to sit before the Head of the Consilium Elementorum, and he will not be played a fool. “I just knew,” he says, his voice strong.

Nero looks doubtful. “You can tell me, son,” he says. “Who helped you? Who told you what to choose?”

Seven is angry at this. Being accused of cheating is a new thing for him, and he struggles to keep his emotions in check. “No one. Sir.”

Nero says and rubs his hands over his face, “There is one more test. This test I designed myself, and only I know the true outcome. We will see what we will see. Shall we?” He stands and motions for Seven to follow him.

They leave the darkened room and return to the Council chambers, empty except for a lone computer set up in Nero’s place at the Council Table. Nero points for him to take a seat in front of the computer, and Seven can’t help but feel this to be an omen, a dark portent, as he moves to sit in Nero’s chair. Nero switches the computer on, the screen green and sickly looking. There is but one program listed, and it is labeled THE///MILLION. He clicks the program open, and his fingers fly over the keyboard through a series of passwords, each longer and more complicated than the last. Words pop up on the screen, and they signal a shift in Seven: he can do this. He knows he can. The command on the screen:

START TEST? Y/N

“When this begins,” Nero says, “you will have one week to complete it. In this file, there are one million pictures. Each picture is of a baby, newly born. You will only see their faces. There are one million options to choose from. You must pick the correct one, the face of the Split One. You will be here from eight in the morning until eight at night, every day for one week. In order to choose a picture, you must type in 1 for picture one, 2 for picture two, and so on and so forth until the final picture. One of these pictures is of the Findo Unum. If you find the one you believe to be correct, you will stop and notify the man who will stand outside the door. The program has randomized each picture so no two tests will ever be the same. Only I have the passwords to reach the keys to each test, so only I will be able to confirm you are correct. Do you understand?”

Seven nods, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Then begin.” Nero hits the Y key, and the screen clears, a green cursor waiting for Seven to type in the first number. Nero turns to leave, and that is when time almost stops.

Seven stares at the screen, grappling with the impossible task. I can’t do this, he thinks frantically. It’s too big.

Seven, a voice sings and sighs. Seven.

Nero is two feet away when Seven types in 103021 and hits enter. The face of a child populates the screen, and while the picture is scratchy, the sex of the child indeterminable, Seven is filled with great peace as a warm light shines from the monitor. “Done,” he says quietly. The child is beautiful, and his heart aches.

Nero pauses, his last step a stutter. “What did you say?” he asks dangerously.

“I’m done,” Seven repeats.

Nero whirls around, the regal façade cracked as he snarls. He takes three steps back to the computer, and his fingers fly over the keyboard, entering commands. He hits the Enter key and waits. Then the screen says—

CORRECT

—and Seven feels a low pulse in his stomach.

“You cheated!” Nero hisses. “I don’t know how the fuck you did this, but you cheated!”

“Do it again,” Seven says.

Nero startles at this, but then resets the test, the pictures again randomized. He steps back, his breath ragged in his chest, his hands like claws at his sides. “I will watch this time,” he tells Seven, the hatred in his voice no longer disguised.

Seven, it whispers.

Seven types in 430. The face that comes on to the screen is like coming home, like seeing the future revealed. “Done,” he says.

Nero checks.

CORRECT, the screen says.

And then it’s done again, 114001; and again, 210013; and again, 610000. Seven smiles each time the child comes onto the screen, and he takes the time to study the scrunched-up face, the wrinkled nose, the skin that looks pink even on the green screen. He thinks he’s never seen anything greater; he thinks his heart might break every time the test is reset and the picture disappears. The test is performed ten more times, then twenty, then forty. On the seventy-seventh test, Seven types in 777777, and the voice in his head sighs again, a great weeping noise that shakes his world.

Nero steps back then, his face contorted with anger, and strangely, with fear. At first, Seven doesn’t understand why, but then Nero shows him the reason: with what appears to be all the willpower and restraint he can muster, Nero bends to one knee and bows his head. “Iuratum Cor,” he mutters.

Seven is no longer Normal.

IT’S announced to the hundreds of people who gathered. Seven is petrified at standing in front of the throng of writhing people in the throes of apparent religious ecstasy. His parents are firmly by his side, their strong hands on his shoulders as he is revealed to the world as heart sworn.

Then things change.

The training begins, and it’s all day, every day, and it’s always the same. When Seven turns seven, he is given a personal trainer and is told he needs to lift weights. He is given personal tutors who are incessant with their teachings of all things Elemental. He is trained in the art of war, the fighting styles he learns—Krav Maga, Aikido, Hsing, kickboxing—drilled into him again and again and again. They are contradictory to each other, violence and peace, but he learns them all with great relish, performing each better than the last. He learns weapons and explosives, new tech (which he, much to his consternation and Nero’s amusement, cannot seem to grasp), and old scriptures. He goes to sleep each night exhausted, sure he cannot take much more, but he closes his eyes and the fire burns and the winds howl and they all sing out his name, and he knows he will wake up the next morning and do the same thing all over again.

His parents are worried that this will go to his head, that he will be consumed by the notoriety, and that it will be his downfall. He hears their whispers late at night, those angry, confused whispers that they try to keep from him. He attempts to sneak to their door, to listen in even though the guilt weighs heavily on his heart, but he is twelve years old now and has gained twenty pounds of muscle and has shot up six inches. The floorboards creak under his mass, and the whispers stop, and he rushes back to his room, hiding under his blankets, waiting until the morning comes and he can start his training all over again.

He wonders how he can explain to them that he is not concerned with the infamy that comes with being the first Iuratum Cor in almost three hundred years. How can he tell them that when he bleeds and aches and it feels like his head cannot be filled with any more about the ways of the Elemental world, he simply closes his eyes and thinks of his heart sworn? His obsession has never been about the perks or the way the people smile at him, or even that he is no longer a Normal. No, his obsession runs much deeper than that, and it is all he can do to keep himself together, to keep his mind intact. Because there is a part of him that yearns for his Iuratum Cor, to see the face of the one that has been haunting his dreams since the day he discovered he was so very different from all the rest. He realizes he is missing half of himself, and the crack runs deep into his mind, and he doesn’t know how long he can hold himself from the edge.

This goes on for years.

He is fifteen when he is pulled in front of the Council, their monthly check of him now routine. He is six feet tall and weighs 180 pounds and makes an imposing figure as he sits down heavily in the chair under the watchful gaze of the Council, his biceps bunching up around him, his muscular thighs barely able to stay on the chair. Nero leans forward, his expression slick and cool, appraising the hulking teenager who sits before him.

Without preamble, he says, “There are certain rules you must obey, certain guidelines that have always been followed. You have obviously taken care of the physical side, and I’m told your schooling is proceeding along nicely. But there are still… other things that you must understand before you will be considered the true heart sworn.”

Seven nods at this, as it’s always the same. He does what they ask, but still they want more. It doesn’t matter, he thinks. I will go until I die. The crack in his mind deepens just a bit further at that. He doesn’t notice.

“You have done well,” says the old woman who’d conducted his first test all those years ago. “I can speak for all of us when I say how proud we are of you.”

“And what of the Findo Unum?” Seven asks, as he always does. “Is she well? Does she know of me?”

The Council members exchange uneasy looks, and it is not lost on him. It has happened time and time again. He wonders then, wonders what he is not being told, if something has happened to his heart sworn (for she is truly his now, he knows) or if the last nine years have been a mistake. He wonders if he will be told that there was an error, that he is just a Normal, that someone else will take his place. He shudders at the thought. He does this not at the thought of going back to the way things were, but to going back to the way things were and never knowing the face he’d seen on the computer screen so long ago.

“As well as can be expected,” Nero says carefully. “But you know the rules, Seven. You still have nine more years before you will see your Findo Unum. It is the way of things.”

“I know,” he growls. “My heart sworn must reach the age of reason before I am able to see her. I am reminded of this constantly.”

“As well you should be,” Nero says sharply. “I would shudder to think if you chose to break this edict. You know as well as I do that it would mean an additional seven years before you would be able to be united with the Unus Dimidiatus.”

He nods again, wondering just how much the Council is making up as they go along. After all, the last time the world had known such a union, it had been a much different place. Where are these rules written? Who has passed them down? And if he is so important, why can he not see them? But he does not question the Council, at least out loud, for fear of reprisal. He knows they have the power to take away what is rightfully his. He does not know what he would do if they tried.

“Soon,” Nero continues, “you will be asked to form the Circulus Custodum, and while it is written that the decision will be yours, know that the Council will be watching everyone you choose.”

Seven is not surprised at this; even more, he expected it. The Circulus Custodum is the Guardians Circle, a group bound together with the sole intent of protecting the Split One. The heart sworn of the Split One is tasked with the formation of such a band, the collection of Elementals and non-Elementals, each with their own contribution to the Circle, whether it be through their Elemental abilities, their knowledge of tech, or their fighting skills. They would be warriors, and Seven would have to handpick each of them. It was written (by whom? Seven always wonders) that it would be his choice alone, because of his position, but the Council did not seem prepared to let the decisions rest in the hands of an overgrown teenager. He had time to think, he knew. His decision must be made by the time the Split One and he were united. His only choice so far is Otis, who has grown even bigger than Seven himself, but he has not yet relayed this to anyone, including Otis.

The Council drones on, as they are prone to do, but Seven is already thinking of his other half, so very far away from him.

His attention is brought back as the Council stands to depart. He rises out of respect as they file out of the room and is startled when the old woman remains. She waits until they are the only ones left in the room before she motions him forward. He moves and stands before her, the dais raising her short figure above him.

“There is much you do not know,” she says, smiling sadly at him. “Much that I alone cannot tell you.”

“Like who the Split One is?” he asks angrily, unable to help himself. “Or what is coming that caused her to be born in the first place? I hear nothing but pretty lies from your mouths and I am beginning to think you know no more than I do.”

She shakes her head gently. “Youth is often wasted on the youth,” she said cryptically. “I understand your frustration, Seven, believe me. But you must keep strong. It will be the only way that both of you will survive. The Split One is a powerful being, yes, perhaps the most powerful in all the world; but Findo Unum will turn to you for protection, for… domination. This may not make much sense to you yet, but one day it will.”

“I just want to see her,” Seven says quietly. “She’s all I think about.”

There is pain in the old woman’s eyes. “I know, child. And it may only get harder from here. But if there is one thing I can tell you, one thing I can impart to you, then it would be that you are not alone in this.”

Her words are unexpected, her voice kind. He can’t stop the tears that spring to his eyes, the wracking of his chest. She does the unthinkable for someone of her station as she reaches down and wraps her arms around his shoulders. He buries his face in her stomach, and she allows him the moment, however brief.

He pulls back after a time, exhausted and subdued. She wipes away the tears from her own face, and her eyes are intelligent and calm. She shakes her head briefly and then reaches up around her neck. She unclasps a silver chain and pulls out a medallion buried under her clothes. “I was going to give this to you as a gift to give the Findo Unum once you were joined. But I think it’s time for you to have it, Seven. You must remember its message, for all the world depends on it.” She pulls up his hand and drops the ensign into it, covering it briefly with her palm.

He looks at the medallion as she removes her hand, watches as it flashes brightly in the dim light. There is fire on one side of the heptagon, a green tornado on the other. And, of course, an inscription.

“Es cor meum,” he whispers.

The old woman smiles again and closes her eyes. “It means ‘you are my heart’,” she says quietly. “It is to remind you of the bond between the Findo Unum and the Iuratum Cor.” Then she leaves.

He leaves the Council chambers and drags himself up to his room and has the first dream in a series of dreams that will cause him to make a life altering choice a little less than a year from now. The medallion lies against his chest, and he begins to believe he is not alone.

HE DREAMS of a white room, windowless and pristine. He walks from one end to another, his footsteps echoing. He does not know where he is and cannot decide if it is safe or if it is a lie. He hears whispers coming from the walls, and he can pick out bits and pieces, and they are saying, “After six and before eight,” and “Oh woe is the one who defies the way.” The walls begin to shake gently, a low rumble under his feet. He closes his eyes and breathes, and there is fire in the blackness, a beautiful flare that rises deftly out of nothing. The walls say, “I make my own choices, don’t I?” and “Here he is, the breaker of worlds,” and Seven wants to leave. He opens his eyes, and there is the shadow of a child against the far wall. He rushes over, but he sees it is not a shadow of a child, but an outline of one, flash-burned into the wall. He rubs his hand over it, and the soot comes off onto his hand. He brings it to his lips, and his tongue darts out, and it tastes like nothing he has ever known. Then the room ignites and everything burns.

He awakens, his heart beating rapidly, the ensign hot against his chest like fire.

Otis notices his friend becoming lost and pulls him away one day, forcing Seven to ditch his training, even if it’s just for an hour. They walk through the snow, speaking of this and that, and Seven confides in Otis that his heart is breaking and his mind is breaking and he doesn’t know how much more he can stand. Otis wraps one arm around his friend’s shoulder and pulls him close. He whispers that Seven must hold on, that everything depends on him and him alone. Otis hates to do this to Seven, but he knows the reality will be a cold splash in his friend’s face and hopes it will awaken him from the dreams that are dragging him down. Seven shows him the old woman’s gift, and Otis is happy that Seven has another tether to the world, a reminder that what Seven will do will not be for nothing.

They don’t know that in four years, Otis’s mind will be the one ravaged, made simple by a vicious attack that will kill almost everyone Seven holds dear.

The dreams continue, the training continues, Seven growing up and out. He laughs and cries, he jokes and broods. He is angry and sad, happy and contemplative. He doesn’t know how much more he can take; he knows he will take it all. He’s a walking contradiction in the body of a giant, and it all comes to a head shortly after his sixteenth birthday.

The dreams have gotten worse: they ravage his sleep, exhausting him to the point of insanity. It’s always the white room, it’s always the screaming walls, and it is always the burnt impression of a child against the wall. He knows who that child is, and it scares him.

Then one night, the dream changes.

It begins as it always does, in the white room. The shaking walls. The voices. But then it’s different. The voices change. They say, “They are coming” and “Split in half split the world the cover of night slowly unfurls.”

“Who is coming?” Seven shouts.

“We are none,” the walls reply. “We are everything. Protecting Ignis and Ventus we do what we must.”

The walls of the room ignite, and a great howl rips through the room, and then the walls fall away and Seven sees the world is on fire. He screams at the destruction, the Earth brought to its knees in ruin. He feels his skin begin to blister and boil as a great wave of fire rushes toward him, burning the air out of the sky and the ground at his feet.

“You must hurry,” a voice whispers from everywhere. “They are coming for the child. They come for what is yours. The father will keep the child safe, but the mother… she is not what she seems. You must hurry, Iuratum Cor.”

And then the wave overtakes him.

His eyes snap open, and he gasps for breath. He sits up in his bed, and there is a glow outside his window. He jumps out of his bed, sure the fire from his dreams has followed him out and ignited everything. But what he sees is not a fire but a thin strand of light, curving down the road, pulsing and beckoning. He knows what he must do, and he knows he must hurry. He knows there will be consequences.

He tears down to the garage and steals a car. Soon, he is on the road, following the light as it leads him toward whatever may come. He clutches at the ensign hanging around his neck and prays that he is not too late.

I WAS entranced, so much so that it took me a moment to figure out Seven had stopped talking. I heard the pain in his words, the tightness in the chest rising and falling under my hands. I pressed my lips to where his heart beat against his skin, kissing it softly.

“You don’t have to finish,” I told him quietly. “I don’t need to know any more.”

Seven shook his head as he ran his fingers down the bare skin of my back. “It’s coming now,” he said. “And I want it out in the open. This is about you as much as it is about me.” The determination in his voice was almost enough to break my heart.

I reached up and pulled his face to mine, feeling his hunger, warm and desperate, as it surged forward. He shook beneath me as he breathed, and I gave him my all, pouring everything I could into the kiss. Our tongues tangled softly, and I think he knew what I was trying to do. He pulled away and smiled sadly at me and motioned for me to lie back down against him. I did as he asked, and his hands found my hair again, rubbing gently. I touched his skin with my fingertips, memorizing the secrets it gave.

“This is where you came for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said. “This is where I saw you for the first time as you were. Even then, I think I knew.”

“Knew what?” I asked, not daring to raise my eyes.

He sighed as he watched me. “That we would always be.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

Seven continues: “I had driven for three days—”

HE DRIVES for three days, each day feeling more desperate than the last. He hasn’t been sleeping well, what with the dreams and all, and he’s forced to pull over before he wrecks the car. In Ohio, he stops behind an abandoned farm house and dreams of fire. In Nebraska, he leaves the car and collapses in a corn field and dreams of wind. He drinks coffee by the gallon, pops pills, bought from shady men at truck stops, that keep him wired for hours before he crashes.

He’s never been so close to insanity.

The glowing white thread is always ahead of him, leading, pulsing.

He crosses into Oregon just as the sun sets blood-red against the horizon. The thread begins to beat dramatically, the incandescence growing brighter and stronger. He’s close now to the Split One, to his heart sworn, and thoughts of her consume him. His dreams have told him she is in great danger, that her mother is planning something dark. He prays he is not too late even as he feels he already is.

Night falls around him, and his hands begin to vibrate on the steering wheel. The line pulses in front of him as he drives through a forest that seems to bend with the wind, showing him the way. And then the line ends in a flash at a paved side road that leads off into the trees on his right. He can see the flickering lights of a house through the forest, and for a moment, he just stares at it, stopped in the middle of the roadway. The Split One is there, he thinks. I will see what’s mine.

You must hurry, comes the reply.

He turns onto the road, switching off his headlights as he parks back among the trees. He thinks he will be low and quiet as he approaches, but then he smells something in the air. It’s acrid and black, and he knows it is smoke, and he hears in his head the high-pitched cry of a child: “She’s here and oh, my God, my mother is coming for me!” But it echoes in his head, like it had taken time to reach him, and he takes off at a run. He reaches the house and sees flames flickering at the tiny cellar windows at the base of the house. He rushes into the house, trying not to scream. There is luggage near the door, and he realizes just how close it came. He tears through the dining room, the kitchen, and runs down a hallway that has been destroyed. At the end of the hallway the remains of a door are a portent of hell as the orange glow and black smoke billow from the room. He stops at the doorway, but only because the stairs are gone. The room is ablaze, fire licking every inch of the cellar, and his heart plummets. And then he looks down.

Huddled against the wall, a pair of little arms wrap around a pair of little knees, the little head bowed as the little body is racked with a deep and disturbing cough.

“Hey!” Seven shouts.

The child gazes up, and the look Seven is given annihilates his heart. He reaches down his hand. The boy (because it is a boy and oh my God, did everyone know and how could I not know and does it really matter because he is mine and it doesn’t matter because he is mine) reaches his hand up and misses as part of the ceiling behind him collapses. It’s all Seven can do not to jump down there with him to shield him from the fire. The floor creaks dangerously underneath him, and they only have a few more seconds. The boy jumps again, and their hands grasp and clutch, and Seven pulls with all his might. The child shoots up out of the darkness and fire and up into Seven’s arms. They fall back, and the child lands on Seven’s chest, and all he can do is stare. He reaches up and brushes the hair out of the child’s face and hears his own voice saying something, but he is not sure what it is because this is his Iuratum Cor, this is his heart sworn. There’s nothing sexual about the touch, of course, the heart sworn being a child, but Seven cannot ignore the roaring in his heart and the possessiveness he feels as he watches his other half.

He feels the heat against his skin and realizes that the house is burning down around him. He gathers the boy in his arms and shields him protectively as he begins to run the way he came. There is a singular moment as the roof ignites over his head that he looks down at the boy to find himself being watched by great big hazel eyes. He brings his hand to the back of the boy’s head and pushes him against his chest, and then time snaps forward again, and the hallway behind him explodes. He feels a slap of hot air against his back and he is thrown forward. As he stumbles to his knees, his only thoughts are to protect the child, and he bows his body forward to cover the boy from the fire. He slides across the kitchen floor on his knees, feeling his jeans tearing and his skin tearing, and the fire reflecting off the silver appliances is almost at his back, and he is angry because it would dare harm his heart sworn, it would dare try to take the boy away from him, but then he’s at the end of the kitchen and rockets to his feet, through the dining room and out the door.

He drops to the ground away from the house, and the boy dislodges from his arms and begins to retch, and tears burn Seven’s eyes as he rubs his hands on the little back, trying to soothe the great disruption that is chaos in them both. The boy clutches at him, and Seven allows him to break because he will always protect what it is his, he will never let harm come to the Split One ever again.

HE IS indecisive then, with that first question asked, because the response makes him want to flee with the child, to keep him safe. The question asked—
what’s your name

—binds him further to the Halved Mind, even though he doesn’t yet realize it. He feels something, yes, and when the answer is given, it makes him tremble, and he closes his eyes because his Findo Unum—
his name is Felix

—is safe, is able to answer him. He holds back the tears threatening to break from his eyes when he is asked to reveal who he is, and he says Seven and—
yeah, little man, like the number

—it’s like he’s revealed a great secret to the only one he’s ever wanted to tell any secret to. It’s been nine years since Seven discovered who he is, and he knows now that his mind has never grasped what it meant fully until—
you’re really big

—he stood next to the only person who could keep him sane. It’s different now, in his heart, and it’s making it harder and harder to do what he must: he must—
i have to protect you

—leave before the approaching sirens arrive, before Felix’s father arrives. He knows that—
i burned my mother

—Felix must be strong. Seven knows that he must be strong. It’s never good-bye, it’s only so long, and he closes his eyes because Felix has burned his mother, but it’s okay because she would have taken Felix away from him. The thought chills him to the bone. How can it be so strong already? he thinks, not realizing he is saying the words aloud. How can I already know…. Because he does know. He thinks he’s always known.

It’s a gift; it is a curse.

He reaches up behind his neck and unclasps the necklace, bringing it down around the boy’s neck, fastening it behind him, his hands shaking at how small the boy is.

“What’s this mean?” Felix asks him.

Oh my God, he thinks. God help me to do what I must. “One day, when you’re older, you’ll find out what it means,” Seven tells him. “And when you do, you will know it to be true.” Or so he hopes.

“Is it for me?” Felix asks, bouncing the medallion in his hands.

“It is, little man. It’s a gift, from me to you. It’s… a promise.” And it is, one of many he will make over the years to come. Seven stands then, the moment almost upon him. He doesn’t know if he can be resilient enough, but he will try. “Your father will be here soon, and then things will change. You need to be brave, Felix. You need to be strong and brave for me. I have to go now, but I will find you. Someday, I’ll see you again.”

The boy begins to cry, and it’s all Seven can do to keep from breaking down as well. “I don’t want you to go,” the boy sobs.

Seven can hold back no more, and the tears spring to his eyes. Maybe, he thinks. Maybe I don’t have to leave. Maybe I can just—

No, the voice whispers, the same voice that has led him to his other half. It’s fading now, and Seven knows that whatever connection he had with it, whatever wall had been broken down from this side to the other is almost gone. It is not his time yet. It is not your time yet. He must see the ways of the world without you before he can decide. The decision must be his alone. It is the only way, Seven. And then it’s gone.

Broken, Seven hugs the boy to him one last time as he says, “I know. I don’t, either. But someday soon, I promise. You and me aren’t done. Not by a long shot.” He pulls away, and he knows he must run, but he makes one final promise, and it is this promise that will define him for the rest of his life: “Always remember, little man: you are not alone in this.”

Then he runs.

The boy cries out behind him, begging him to come back.

Seven runs and runs and runs.

HE DOESN’T remember getting into his car. He doesn’t remember driving away. He doesn’t know how he misses the fire trucks, the ambulances, the police. He doesn’t know how he misses Felix’s father. He doesn’t remember any of those things because he is lost. He is adrift in a current and he lets it take him wherever it goes. He wonders, at one point, if this is what it means to be insane, the feeling of not knowing where one is going when one does not care. He is gone, and he stays gone for almost two weeks. He holes up in a cheap hotel in Idaho and lays deep in fever, murmuring to himself as he rocks in a room where the furniture is faded, where the bed sheets are scratchy, where angry yelling is heard late at night through the paper-thin walls. A woman screams. A man shouts. Shadows pass in front of the dingy curtains. He shoves stale vending machine crackers in his mouth. He drinks water from the rusted bathroom tap. He pays for another night. And then he falls back onto the bed and floats away. Thirteen days go by.

THE man who returns to the Station is not the same as the boy who left. He has lost weight, his hair is dirty and stringy around his face. His eyes are bruised and haunted, the lines around his mouth carved deep. He stares at himself in the rearview mirror, wondering when his face had become that of a stranger. He shakes his head and gets out of the vehicle, walking up the hill to the Station.

As he approaches, a siren goes off somewhere from deep in the building. It’s only a moment before the Elemental security descends upon him, holding his arms behind his back with fierce grips. He is dragged inside, and his parents are there, shouting as they are held back by the guard, pleading with him to just look up, to just say he is all right. But he cannot because he is not. He won’t lie to them; he can’t even muster the strength to say anything in greeting. He’s led up to the Consilium Elementorum, where he is granted an audience with the members of the Council. Their faces are concerned and stern, fearful and subdued. Nero, however, is a portrait of seething rage.

“You knew the consequences,” he snarls, spittle hanging from his lips. “You knew our decision and yet you still defied us. You still defied me!”

Seven looks up then, and for the first time in sixteen days, he speaks: “I would do it again,” he says, his voice rusty. “And again. And again.”

Nero recoils as if slapped. “You insolent child,” he spits out. “As long as I breathe, you will never see the Split One again.”

The rest of the council immediately protests, and Seven feels a dark anger swell within him. Here it is, yet another threat to keep away what is his. But now that he’s seen Felix’s face, now that he has held his heart in his arms, he knows he can be silent no longer. He rises slowly from his seat and pulls himself to his full height. He looks sickly and tired, but he is still bigger than anyone in the room, Elemental be damned. He feels his face contort and contract in barely restrained fury, and he wants nothing more than to reach across the dais and table and take Nero by the throat and tear him apart until all that is left is a bloody pile of skin and bones. He wants to destroy him. But then he thinks of Felix and the insanity flees him, at least for the moment.

“You may be Council,” he says slowly, dangerously, “but your control over me is at an end. This is my family’s home, and you’ve been allowed to stay here because of how the other Elementals see you. But rest assured: I am not an Elemental. I am Iuratum Cor, and you will never take from me what is mine. The Council’s dominion over me is finished. You lost any right when you chose not to protect him; it’s obvious that you know more than you’ve told even me. I will abide by your last ruling, which will be to not see Felix again until seven years past the age of reason. I know that if I don’t, it would threaten to throw all others’ view of you into anarchy. But know this: if any one of you dares to stand between him and me when the time comes, I will destroy you all without any hesitation.”

There is fear on their faces, even Nero’s, but he does not regret his words. He has had enough of their meddling, of their dogmatic ways, and he is so very tired now. He wants nothing more than to crawl into a corner and sleep for weeks. He waits, however, for anyone to speak, for anyone to defy him. He thinks it will be Nero (after all, who else would it be?), but no one contradicts him, at least to his face. The Council members look uneasily at each other, and when they speak, it is not Nero, but the old woman.

“You did what you thought was correct,” she says in a shaky voice, “and while I alone will commend you for protecting Findo Unum, there are still… consequences to your actions. It is decreed that you will have no contact with Felix until he reaches the age of twenty-five, seven years past the age of reason. This will be your burden to bear.”

“And he will be protected in the meantime,” Seven says, not asking a question.

She nods slowly. “If the time comes where the darkness rises before the sentence has run, we will convene to revisit the decision. During this time, you will continue to train, but under your own watch will it be. You will not seek advice from the Council and your progress will still be reported to us by any emissary of your choosing. The Guardians Circle must be complete before Felix’s twenty-fifth birthday. In doing so, you will earn the right to join with your heart sworn. Do you understand?”

Seven nods. “Do you?” he asks them all.

There is a pause, but they all agree. Even Nero. They rise and shuffle out of the room. Again, as before, the woman remains.

He waits.

Finally, she asks, “Felix, huh?” He can almost hear the smile in her voice.

“Felix,” he sighs, his heart warming.

She watches him closely. “I take it you are okay with him?”

He tries not to bristle. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because he’s a… he.”

“And?”

She shakes her head. “You are an extraordinary individual, Seven. You’ve been through so much, and yet you still have the gall to stand before your Council and threaten its members.”

“Don’t fuck with me and I won’t fuck with you,” he replies coldly.

“Indeed.” She stands to leave.

“It does make one wonder, though,” he says.

She pauses. “Oh? And what might one wonder?”

“If the Council could keep such a thing from me, I wonder what else they might be hiding.” He watches her as he speaks, waiting for any sign of deception. She’s good: she gives none.

“The Council has its reasons, Seven. Ones that may never be explained, even to someone such as yourself.” Her voice is low and calm.

“What is the coming darkness?” he asks suddenly. “Surely you know more than you’re sharing. All of you do. You have to help me protect him!”

She trembles slightly, and he doesn’t miss it. “There are things even I have to protect,” she says quietly, and then she leaves the room.

He leaves the chambers then. He doesn’t know that he won’t return there for three years. And when he does, they will have been attacked and all but one of the Council will be dead.

HE DRAGS himself up to the third floor, his mind exhausted and miserable. His parents are waiting for him when he steps off the elevators, and it’s almost too much to deal with, but then his mother opens her arms, and he falls into her and breaks, letting out everything he’s felt over the past two weeks. They’re shocked when he tells them his heart sworn is a boy, shocked beyond anything else he says. It appears the secret was well hidden. But they see something in his eyes, they hear something in the waver of his voice, that shows them he does not grieve for his future; no, he grieves for his other half, a child whom he needs to protect but can’t. It’s breaking him apart, that need to defend, to possess, and they know above all else that the child will be loved like no other when it is time.

He stays in bed for an additional three days, his only visitors his parents and Otis. Otis sits beside his friend and holds his hand, listening to the story of Seven’s adventures in Oregon. He notices the tears that stream down his friend’s face, the way his hands tremble as he recounts saving Felix from the fire. He sees all of this and more, but the thing that stays with him long after is the fierce gleam in Seven’s eye when he mention’s Felix’s name, a look that is primal and feral. Otis wonders if Seven will be able to wait the allotted time before he is joined with Felix. But Seven shoves that away, saying what’s done is done (and can’t be undone). He might not be able to join his Iuratum Cor at the age of reason, but he would do it again if he had to, to have the knowledge that Felix was alive. As long as he was alive and well and breathing and growing and happy, Seven would sacrifice everything.

Seven pulls himself out of bed after those three days and resumes his training, throwing himself into it even more. He must be bigger. He must be faster. He must be stronger. He works out until his arms and legs scream and cramp. He practices fighting until his face is bloodied and his fingers are broken. He learns more than anyone ever has about Elementals (but even then, he still can’t find whatever doctrine the Council bases their decisions upon, even though he look and looks and looks) and their powers.

He keeps his ear to the ground as he wanders through Terra City, waiting to hear anything about everything. There are no rumbles about a coming darkness, no great threat seeming to rise. There is murder and rape and robberies and violence, but that is normal for the City. There is nothing he can do about that. He stands one night under a street light while the rain mists down around him and looks up into the sky. He can see no stars, can only hear the sounds of the City around him. He closes his eyes and thinks of Felix.

He’s nineteen when the darkness shows its face and comes for his family with a vengeance.

It begins, he’s told later, with a little girl.

JUSTIN DAVIDSON is in his first week of patrol at the Station. He’s young and cocky but is one of the strongest Earth Elementals around. He’s proud to wear the uniform, to protect his family in the place where he’d grown up. The Station is his home, and he has no use for the outside world. He met a Water Elemental late the year before, and they are engaged to be married. He is ready to have a family of his own, and he loves that he is able to protect them on the Elemental Security Force. He will do what is necessary to—

“Hello,” a tiny voice says from behind him.

He turns and sees a little girl, about nine years old, standing near the Portandum Station in a pretty summer dress, her hair long and blonde, her eyes blue and wide. “Hello,” he says, a smile forming on his face. She is precocious and sweet, and it disarms him. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I’ve lost my mommy and daddy,” she says, glancing up at the security camera that’s recording everything. “I’ve lost them and I don’t know where they are.”

“Do they work here?” he asks carefully. Justin Davidson might not be the smartest person in the world, but he certainly isn’t stupid.

She nods her head, a single tear slipping from her eye onto her cheek. “They forgot me, and now I can’t get in.” It’s the tear that does him in.

He takes her by the hand and says, “Well, let’s go see if we can find them.” They are walking toward the main gate, and the security camera will show later how the girl smiles behind him, a dark and disturbing grin. Justin reaches the gate, pressing his thumbprint against the scanner and swiping his keycard. The girl reaches up to a pouch on her dress, and water pours out as she unscrews the cap. Justin feels his hand get wet, and he looks down in surprise. The girl smiles beautifully up at him and says, “The Scarred King is coming.” Then the water that is pouring out of the pouch at her side shifts and flies up to rotate in the air above her head. He watches as it splits, and with a loud crack! it freezes, becoming long sheathes of ice, wicked sharp and sparkling in the sun. It rises above her small head, and Justin says, “No,” but it’s too late as the shards shoot forward and slam into his chest. Blood pours out from his pierced heart as he is dragged along the ground with the force of the blast. It pins him up against the wall, the ice swords so crystallized that they perforate the side of the building, leaving Justin Davidson hanging. He is dead even before he hits the wall.

Luck is with the little girl: the two who are supposed to be monitoring the security video have fallen asleep. They don’t see Justin’s death, the little girl’s smile, or the way water shoots into the sky and explodes. They don’t see the unknown Earth Elementals rise from the fields surrounding the Station and wave their arms, breaking the cover they had placed over the rest of their people. They don’t see how many others rise, for the number is exquisitely frightening when the tape is reviewed later. No alarm sounds, no warning is released. They don’t know that the town below was evacuated the night before, under the cover of darkness, under the cover of a gas leak. They don’t know any of this now, but they will, and it will burn and chafe like nothing ever has. So many little things have occurred to allow this attack, so many quirky twists of fate that some will believe they are cursed, while others will whisper it was an inside job. It is neither of those things or, rather, maybe it is both. Seven doesn’t know.

Seven is working out this early morning, bench-pressing three hundred pounds and hating it. He should be bigger, so much bigger. His biceps quiver and sweat drips from his face, but Otis stands above him, shouting at him to finish. What is he, some kind of pussy? How can he hope to protect anyone if he can’t finish his fucking reps? Seven grits his teeth and pushes through the pain and lifts the barbell one final time before racking it. He sits up and gasps, his arms quivering as they burn. Otis slaps him on the back and grins at him and is about to say something encouraging, something to get a smile back on Seven’s face, when the building shakes around them, the windows rattling gently as the gym equipment shifts along the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Otis asks, his eyes narrowing.

Seven stands and looks toward the door. “I don’t know. It felt like an explos—”

And then there is a scream.

Both bolt for the door.

As they reach the Pavilion of the Station, all hell has broken loose. Fire and water and earth and air explode across the Pavilion, people are screaming and running, and it’s chaotic and frightening, but it’s an organized chaos, and Seven and Otis immediately see people they do not recognize, Elementals who have not been in the Station before. Each has an armband around their left arm, black with a red line wrapped around the center. Otis roars as a little Station girl in front of them is killed when one of the intruders shifts the earth beneath her feet, causing her to trip down an enormous crevice that breaks open along the floor. She screams as she falls, and Seven and Otis scream along with her. Otis calls upon his own fire and ignites the man responsible. His hair burns and his face melts, and then the earth shifts again as he dies.

A Water Elemental with a black band around her arm raises her hands, and water from the fountain in the middle of the Station rises into the air. She twitches her fingers, and the water shifts and flattens and begins to slice apart into circular discs. She brings down her hand in a chopping motion, and one of the discs freezes and flies through the air. It hits a concrete post under the upstairs landing near the entrance to the Station and slices clean through. The landing groans and then collapses, crushing the people who were attempting to flee to the exit. Thick dust pours from the collapsed landing and envelops the room. Seven sees the blood of his people run across the floor and he snaps. He runs toward the woman, and she sees him coming and flings another razor-sharp ice disc at him. But Seven has been in training for ten years for moments such as this, and he falls to his back and slides along the floor through the dust. The wheel of ice passes over him mere inches from his face, and he looks up and sees his reflection in the crystal surface as it flies over him. He sees extraordinary anger in his own eyes. He reaches out with his left hand and grabs a piece of the concrete pillar and leaps to his feet and hurls it at the woman. It strikes her in the head with a dull crack, and her eyes roll up as blood gushes down her face. She collapses, and the water still floating in the air around her splashes to the floor.

He’s about to turn and find something else to kill when he feels air blow across his brow, and then he is slammed upward, toward the ceiling. The air current is too strong to fight against. He clenches his body tightly and braces for the impact, but he can’t prepare completely for the bone-jarring collision, and his breath is slammed from his body. He groans as he feels a rib break, and the back of his skull splits open down the middle. Blood drips down to the floor, almost a hundred feet below. He sees the Wind Elemental responsible and smiles to himself when one of his people puts a gun to the Elemental’s head and fires. The Wind Elemental jerks forward as he dies, and the air trapping Seven to the ceiling dissipates and he falls toward the floor. He has time to wonder if it will hurt when he hits the ground, and with the ground rushing up to meet his body, he closes his eyes and thinks of his heart sworn. He’s hit with another blast of air when he is ten feet from the ground, and he opens his eyes and sees the old woman from the Council, her hair flashing around her head, her eyes wide and determined as she lowers him to the floor. He shouts out but it’s too late. He slams to the floor when the wind disappears as the old woman collapses to her knees, a shard of ice sticking out from her chest. She looks at Seven then, as blood dribbles from her mouth, smearing like bright lipstick across her lips as she coughs. Her eyes are pained but resolute. She nods at him and opens her mouth to speak, but another shard enters her back and exits through her heart and breast. The light leaves her eyes and she falls. The little girl behind her smiles at Seven, her summer dress dark with water and blood and dirt. She raises her arms and more shards of ice rise into the air, and when she flicks her wrists, they are aimed at Seven.

Three Fire Elementals from his own security force step in front Seven, their eyes blazing, their hands ignited. The middle one growls as the ice rushes toward them and raises both hands toward the little girl and the ice, and fire ignites around them. The other two follow suit, and the flames form a barrier between them and the oncoming ice. The middle Elemental snaps his wrists forward, and the wall of fire roars toward the girl and the ice passes through it, melting and evaporating with a dull hiss. The little girl dives out of the way as the wall of fire strikes the pillar behind her and explodes. She screams as her dress catches on fire and rolls to put it out.

Otis grabs Seven by the hand, dragging him to his feet and away from the Pavilion. Seven struggles and protests, but Otis is bigger than he is and tightens his grip. He reaches the set of stairs that takes them down to the tunnels. Seven begins to scream at Otis because he knows where Otis is taking him, and it can’t happen like this, it can’t be like this. (When they were children, they had explored every inch of the Portandum Station, from the top floor of the building to the lowest tunnels. In the their explorations, they had discovered a small electrical closet in the far reaches of one of the tunnels, hidden from view behind a section of wall that had been purposefully collapsed to block off any outside entrance into the station. They had made this small room their own, bringing down food and water and blankets and comic books and an old black and white twelve-inch TV that they had huddled around while they watched monster movies. They haven’t been back to the room in a couple of years, but it doesn’t matter. It’s still there.)

It takes them ten minutes to reach the room, and Seven is hoarse from all his protestations. He hears screaming from above him, followed by more explosions and the building groaning as Earth Elementals break apart the foundation in order to hurl it at each other. Otis throws open the metal door and shoves Seven inside. “You will stay here,” Otis growls at him.

“Fuck you!” Seven shouts back. “I’m going to fight like the rest of you!” He tries to push past Otis, but Otis doesn’t budge.

“Why do you think they’re here?” Otis snarls at him. “They’re coming for you! You have to stay here so you stay alive!”

“I won’t! Our people are being slaughtered out there! This is what I’ve been fucking training for, you bastard!”

Otis shakes his head as the ceiling above them rattles. “It’s not. You’ve been trained to protect Findo Unum. What do you think is going to happen to him if you’re killed? Think of Felix for God’s sake!”

Seven’s heart is breaking. “This isn’t fair! I won’t have anyone sacrifice themselves for me, especially when I am perfectly capable of fighting!”

Otis reaches up and touches Seven’s face, and it feels like good-bye. “We will all do what is necessary to protect you and him,” he says quietly. “It is something we have chosen to do. And it is something I would choose again and again. You’re my brother, Seven, and you always will be. I’m sorry, but this is probably going to hurt.”

“What the hell are you—” Seven starts to say, but then a fist smashes into his jaw and stars shoot across his vision, and he falls into darkness.

He finds out later that Otis welds the door shut with his fire before he leaves to rejoin the fight. But of course, by the time Seven learns this, the fight is over and they have lost.

I FELT tears in my eyes as I wrapped myself around Seven, his words bouncing in my head. I choked back a sob, and he rubbed his hands across my head. I kissed his bare chest. “This is all my fault,” I whispered.

I felt Seven shake his head. “It’s not, though. You couldn’t stop this any more than I could have.”

“But they came for you because of me, Seven. Don’t you think it would have been easier if you’d never even heard of me? Your family would still be alive!”

He reached down and pulled my face up toward his. His eyes were wide and angry, the storm returning above the ocean. I tried to pull away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. “You’re my family now,” he growled. “Don’t you fucking get that? You and me and those that surround us. You can’t throw that back at them, or me, because the sacrifices that came before us will have meant nothing. People died to protect me, to protect you, and they did so willingly because they know you and what it is you mean for them.”

“I’ve done nothing to deserve that!” I cried. “I can’t let them do—”

“You can because you have to,” he interrupted. “You will because it will be insulting to them if you don’t. You may not have asked to be born as you are, Felix, but in the end it doesn’t matter. I never asked to be where I am, but it doesn’t matter. We are what we are and that will never change. Much like they would lay down their lives for us, I would do the same for you.”

His words chilled me to the bone. “You better not,” I sniffled at him, a tear rolling down my cheek. “I don’t think I would ever forgive you if you did.”

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss me sweetly. I pressed back feverishly, and I could feel the rumble in his chest. He pulled away and pressed my head against his chest again, right above his heart. It beat solidly against my ear. And you better keep beating, I thought to myself. You better keep beating forever. It didn’t give any response but to beat against my ear, but that was good enough for me. I kissed his chest then, and he sighed, and all I could wonder was how Seven could have mentally survived the aftermath of the attack on the Station. I would have been lost to my insanity. I shuddered against him, and he squeezed me tighter.

Seven said, “I was told that after Otis left me, he—”

OTIS leaves the tunnels and hurries back to the Pavilion floor. The screams have lessened, the explosions silenced. He rounds a corner to the main floor and stops when he hears a gun cock behind him. He turns and is staring down the barrel of a 9mm handgun, and he follows the barrel to a man with gray eyes and a small smile.

“Straggler, are we?” the man asks in an amused voice. “Why don’t we join the rest and we’ll see what we see.” He waves the gun in Otis’s face, motioning him to lead the way to the Pavilion floor. Otis thinks of fighting back, but then he rounds the corner and sees the intruders have rounded up women and children in a group, the majority of which are non-Elementals. The children are crying as the people with the armbands circle them slowly. There is a line of people on their knees in the center of the Pavilion, hands restrained behind their backs, and Otis is dismayed to see it consists of what remains of the Council, his parents, and Seven’s parents and grandfather. His mother cries out in anguish when she sees him, and he hangs his head. He can’t fight back now, not with the chance that everyone could be hurt. He doesn’t know how many of the attackers there are, but in the Pavilion alone there are at least twenty. He can hear crashes coming from the floors above him, and he knows there are more.

He falls to his knees, and his hands are brought behind his back by the gray-eyed stranger, and he feels a pair of hinged handcuffs snap onto his wrists. The metal is pressed in tight and bites his skin, but Otis doesn’t feel the pain. His eyes have fallen on a little arm that sticks out from a pile of rubble near the stairs, a little arm belonging to a child that was crushed in the attack. He feels his gorge rise then, and his anger is dark and all consuming. This is their home, and these bastards have come in and taken it away from them, taken lives of innocent children and their families, all who wanted nothing more than to have a safe place to lay their heads down at night. He feels black with rage.

The gray-eyed man walks in front of them and eyes each of the kneeling Station people one by one until he’s at the other end of the line, facing the oldest member of the Council, a man named Benedictus, who is ninety-seven years old, whip smart, and a powerful Water Elemental. Benedictus glares angrily at the gray-eyed man, who has nothing more than detached amusement for the old man. “Who is the Iuratum Cor?” the gray-eyed man asks, his voice smooth and lyrical. He taps the barrel of his gun against the side of his head.

“If he even exists, I’m sure you won’t find him here,” Benedictus replies.

“Really?” The gray-eyed man smiles. “Well, let’s use you as an example before I ask the question again.” Before any warning can be shouted out, he raises the gun and fires once. The bullet strikes Benedictus in the head, and he falls to the ground. The group of women and children cry out in anguish. The gray-eyed man walks to the next Council member, an Earth Elemental named Rose, and it’s only then that Otis notices that Nero is missing from the group. He wonders if he is dead. The gray-eyed man asks Rose the same question, and she replies that she knows nothing of the Iuratum Cor. He shakes his head sadly, and Otis roars out as he shoots Rose in the head—Rose, who when Otis first arrived at the Station, had hugged him in welcome and said if he needed anything to just ask her, that this was a safe place for all.

“You would think,” the gunman said, “that this would become tiring for you all. To watch your Council die one at a time, and for what? Because they choose to hide a single individual? I assure you I will run out of people to shoot before I run out of bullets. Now,” he says as he raises the gun and points it at Jacob, the councilman who can control fire, “who is the Iuratum Cor?”

Jacob smiles at the gray-eyed man. “I believe in Findo Unum. I believe in the Prima. I believe that the white will always defeat the black. I believe that you will never know victory because you already assume you have it. And that, my son, will be your undoing.” He’s still smiling when the gray-eyed man shoots him in the head.

He moves onto Argus, the last remaining Council member, and says, “Should I just shoot you now?”

Argus raises defiant eyes but doesn’t get a chance to speak. The gunshot echoes throughout the room, and the children cry out again. Otis thinks of Seven and Felix and wonders if he is strong enough to help them. He closes his eyes and sees the fire.

The gray-eyed man stands in front of Otis’s mother, and Otis cannot bear it any longer. He steels himself for what’s to come and wonders if he’ll ever be forgiven. “Hey!” he shouts angrily. “I’m the Iuratum Cor! You leave the rest of them alone! It’s me you want!”

The intruders startle at this, and a low whisper rolls through the Pavilion. His mother starts to speak, tears streaming down her face, but he shakes his head just once at her and she quiets. The gray-eyed man taps the gun against his head again as he walks toward Otis. “Straggler? he asks, slightly amused. “I thought there was something off about you.”

“Do with me what you want, but leave the rest alone. I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt anyone else.”

The gunman cocks his head, a small smile on his face. “Well, that certainly sounds fair. Most people don’t know that I’m a pretty reasonable man. And look at you! You certainly look the part, what with all that unnecessary muscle. I wondered how many people I would have to shoot before you spoke up. I was told that the Iuratum Cor could only stay silent so long in the face of such… unnecessary violence. But, before we—how did you put it?—do whatever I want, I would know one thing. Just one teensy tiny little thing, and this will all be over.”

Otis closes his eyes. “What?”

The gray-eyed man raises his voice so it carries over the Pavilion. “Did anyone in here see this man use any Elemental ability today?”

Otis tries to keep his face schooled but he thinks he might have made a mistake and that everyone will suffer for it. He’s shocked when no one answers the gunman, and he thinks of Elisa, this girl that he’s always wanted to ask out. He has been so busy, what with Seven and all, and he always thought he would have more time. He wonders if she is even alive. He wishes he’d had more time. He opens his eyes, and the gray-eyed man is watching him carefully, with an almost newfound respect.

“The Scarred King has a message for you and your people,” the gunman says slowly. “Findo Unum will be found. He will be destroyed. The bond between him and the Iuratum Cor will never exist. The Scarred King has seen the future and knows what is to come. You have all been warned.

“And as for you, heart sworn,” he says, hunkering down on his knees, smiling as if in on some joke he doesn’t feel like sharing, “before you die, you will know the pain of losing the ones you love. You can’t help what you are, but there is a price for those harboring one such as yourself.”

Before Otis can speak, before he can so much as draw in another breath, the gray-eyed man rises to his feet and fires five more shots, the reports low and flat in their succession. Otis is able to find his voice then and screams when his parents fall to the ground, when Seven’s parents fall to the ground, when Seven’s grandfather falls to the ground. Their blood pools in the rubble underneath them, joining and mingling with the blood that has already been spilled. Otis’s cry echoes across the Pavilion, and it’s matched by the other residents of the Station. Their world has been attacked, and they have been decimated, and this is almost too much to bear.

Otis rises to his feet and stands tall before the gray-eyed man, who watches him coolly. Otis says, “This isn’t over,” and the gray-eyed man smiles at him and says, “For you it is,” and he raises the gun one final time, and Otis thinks of his best friend and of the Findo Unum and he hopes they will find each other, and he wishes he could have met Felix at least once, only to tell him he would never find a better man than Seven, and he wishes he’d told Seven he loves him, and he thinks of Elisa (never knowing that she was one of the first to die on this day) and wonders what they could have done on their first date, maybe a picnic out in the forest behind the Station with a blanket in the grass, and they could have laid on their backs and watched the clouds through the trees, and he would have gathered the courage to reach over and hold her hand, and he knew it would have been soft and sweet and the day would have gone on forever and ever. He smiles to himself as the bullet enters his frontal lobe above his right eye. The world flashes white, and then he is gone.

“Now it’s over,” the gray-eyed man says.

They all leave as quickly as they arrived.

SEVEN wakes in the darkened room, and for a moment he can’t remember where he is or why he’s there because his head is pounding, glassy and sharp. He reaches up to the side of his head and feels a bump, and when he presses on it, it makes him nauseous. He rolls over, and his eyes adjust to the darkness. He recognizes the room he’s in, and everything comes crashing back at once. He gags then, and tries to hold back the bile threatening to rise. He rolls over onto his side and moans. Fucking Otis. Goddamn fucking Otis with his words and his fists and his stupid sense of loyalty.

Seven hears a pounding at the door, and he eyes it warily, not sure if it’s his people or if it’s the intruders, they of the black armbands. He looks around the room for a weapon, any weapon, but it’s too dark and his head hurts too bad, and the only thing he finds is an old Coleman lantern that has long since run out of fuel. It’s better than nothing, and he picks it up by the handle, which squeaks flatly as he lifts it up. He considers flipping on the lights but decides against it, deciding to use the darkness against his would-be assailants.

There’s a metal groan as the door is ripped from the hinges, and he prepares himself for battle until he hears familiar voices, and he realizes it is his people. He sighs in relief and sinks to the floor, letting everything wash over him. The light is switched on, and he hisses as it stabs his eyes, compounding the booming inside his head. It’s pain, but it’s a good pain; it lets him know he is alive and that is the first step. He’s going to kill Otis when he sees him, yes, but not before hugging the man who is his best friend. He shakes his head and slowly opens his eyes, allowing the artificial light to seep its way back in. Everything is blurry in front of him, but then it comes into focus, and he sees Nero kneeling before him, his face dark and troubled.

“I am glad to see you are alive, Iuratum Cor,” he says quietly.

“You too, Nero,” Seven says, and he means it. If the leader of the Council survived, then maybe it’s not as bad as he thinks. Then he remembers the ground opening up in front of him and the little girl falling to her death. Even if she is the only one who died (and in his secret heart, he knows that is not the case), it is still one death to many, one violation above and beyond anything he has ever known. “Where’s Otis?” he suddenly asks. “Did he tell you I was here?” It had to have been Otis, because no one else knows of this place. And that would mean Otis is alive.

Nero watches him sadly. “He did in… his own way. Seven, you must listen to me now, for the news I have to share with you is not good. We have lost much today.”

Seven grows cold. “Speak, Councilman,” he growls.

And that’s when he learns his parents are dead, that the Council (save Nero, of course) are dead, that Otis’s parents are dead, that his grandfather is dead, that all in all, seventy-four of their numbered two hundred and eighty-six are dead. He thinks then of his mother and how her eyes had always sparkled with mischief, of his father, who was stern but kind. He thinks of his grandfather, who, when discovering that his grandson was the Iuratum Cor, had pulled him aside and told him that love was the greatest force in the universe. All had been lined up and executed, all while protecting his name, his status, what he meant to them. Then Nero speaks of Otis, of his words and sacrifice, and it is too much for Seven to bear, and part of his mind breaks away then, and he is set adrift as wave after wave of anger and sorrow and hatred wash over him. It should never have come this.

“Otis is dead too?” he croaks out.

Nero shakes his head. “He lives, but our doctors are unsure if he will survive. A surgeon we trust is being brought in to handle any exploratory surgery, but… Seven, you need to understand that he was shot in the head at close range. They’re saying that even if he does survive, most likely he will never be the same.”

“And you?” Seven asks sharply. “Where were you in all of this? How did you manage to avoid capture?”

Nero looks deeply embarrassed. “I was in my room on the twentieth floor when the attack happened. An explosion knocked the ceiling down on top of me, and I was trapped underneath the rubble. I didn’t even regain consciousness until the attack was over. I awoke in the infirmary next to Otis. He was mumbling about ‘a door in the tunnel’ and he kept saying your name. No one had seen you since the attack so we searched the tunnels.”

“Who did this?”

Nero shakes his head, but not before Seven sees the fear in his eyes. “They said they were emissaries of the Scarred King.”

“Have you heard that name before?” Seven wracks his own mind but comes up with nothing.

“No, Seven. I haven’t,” Nero says. Seven thinks it’s a lie.

“It’s the darkness, though, isn’t it? It’s what Felix was born for? It’s what we are supposed to fight?”

Nero looks away.

Seven nods at this, and somehow, this causes the tears to come hot and heavy, and they roll down his face, and he gags and leans toward the ground. His family is gone. Otis was shot in the head to protect him. Seven thought he knew what devotion was, but he hadn’t known it could ever go this far. Does he deserve this? Who decided that it would be him, that he would be the Iuratum Cor? All he wants to do now is to see Felix, to hear his voice and to know that he is safe. This hits him harder than anything else, and his vision narrows and his gorge rises again, greasy and black. He doesn’t even know where his other half is, so how can he protect him? How can he keep him safe? What if they already attacked him first (although his rational mind thinks this unlikely, but his heart is in control and it is frightened), and now Felix is dead?

Seven has work to do. He has people to protect. He forces his sanity to come back and it clicks back into place, and he rises before Nero, his face hardened and dry. His head is blasting and his mind is racing, but he has to maintain control. For those that are left. And for his Split One.

“We have much to do,” he tells Nero. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

And with those simple words, Seven assumes control of the Station.

FOUR years later, a man comes to see Seven.

Seven, who is twenty-three now, is as big as he will ever be. He shot up at least another inch and weighs just under two hundred and forty pounds. He has learned to be intimidating to those who need it and kind to those who don’t. He has maintained control of the Station for the past four years, helping to rebuild after all the destruction, helping to bury their friends and family. He sat in on the appointments to the new Council, of which Nero insisted on having the final say. Seven lets him, but only because Nero understands that Seven can let him.

He has begun appointing members to the Guardians Circle, the first of which is Otis. Otis, who in the end gave up his mind in order to protect Seven, is at worst a shell of his former self, hulking and empty. But there are good days mixed in, though they seem few and far between. Those days are when the spark of undying intelligence bursts into Otis’s eyes and he seems to understand that something egregiously unfair has happened to him, a cruel punch line to a joke he can no longer remember. Seven works with him on his memory exercises, on his physical therapy, the therapy that seems to go on for days and weeks and months and years. He changes the sheets after Otis wets the bed at night, screaming awake from a dream that he can’t find the words to articulate. But he is still Otis to Seven, regardless of the changes. He can still control his fire and has picked up an extraordinary aptitude for firearms. People call him an idiot savant, but Seven thinks this new nickname is harsh. To him, this is his best friend, his brother, and Seven will do everything in his power to make sure he never forgets it.

He’s also found a Fire Elemental, an older woman named Edna Brunelle. She arrives three years after the attack on the Station and passes the rigorous background check Seven initiated for anyone coming to live at the Station. She has spent the majority of her adult life alone, afraid to let anyone in, given the extent of her powers. When Seven asks for a demonstration, she is able to do things he has never seen before (the manipulation of the fire is so fluid and fast that at first he thinks she’s playing a trick on him; but then she is able to recreate his face with her fire, and when she causes it to wink at him, he is chilled and elated all at the same time), and he reveals to her who he is. She falls to her feet in exaltation, but he ignores this and drags her back up. She has tears in her eyes but agrees immediately.

He is sitting with Otis and Edna in the rebuilt Pavilion the day the man comes to see him. Chuck (the Water Elemental who will later bind himself to Felix as part of the Obligatorius) rushes down the stairs and over to Seven and his group.

“Chuck!” Otis cries out, his grin wide and goofy. “How the hell are ya?”

“I’m good, Otis,” he says, trying to hide his worried expression. “How’re you today?”

Otis grins some more. “I’m amazing! That’s what Seven says. Right, Sevvy?”

Seven looks at Otis affectionately but is growing concerned about what Chuck needs. Chuck is supposed to be on patrol, and if he is here, then something is up. “That’s right, buddy,” he says softly. “I think you’re amazing.” The look Otis gives him is filled with such love that Seven can’t help but feel the deep, dark pangs of guilt that threaten him daily. He pushes them away for now (knowing full well that they will be there tomorrow). “What’s going on, Chuck?”

“There’s a man outside,” Chuck says quietly, “and he’s asking for you specifically.”

“By name?” Edna frowns.

Chuck shakes his head. “He asked for the Iuratum Cor.”

Otis begins to grumble angrily, and Edna reaches up and rubs his forearms to soothe him. Seven reaches down into his bag on the floor and pulls out his laptop. He opens the security program he’d had installed into the building shortly after the attack and brings up the feed from the security cameras near the gates. He smiles quietly to himself when he sees the stranger surrounded by six of his people. What the stranger probably doesn’t know is that there are at least twelve more hidden around the building, watching him as well, waiting for him to make any kind of move they deem to be threatening. Should he do this, it will be the last thing he ever does. They don’t like strangers here at the Station.

“Do you recognize him?” Seven asks Chuck as he waits for the man to turn his face up to the camera.

“Never seen him before in my life,” Chuck huffs out. “Said his name was Lucas Vanesco, or some such thing. Never heard of the Vanesco family before.”

“Is he an Elemental?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“Tell your men to have him look up into the camera,” Seven says. Chuck reaches up to the wireless headset in his ear and barks out an order. Seven watches the screen as one of the Force speaks to the stranger and points up to the camera. The man looks up and is surprised that he’s being recorded. He is handsome, probably in his early forties, with dark hair and dark eyes. Even through the filter of the security cameras, there is something about him that Seven can’t quite put his finger on, something hidden in the back of his mind. He pushes further into it, trying to drag it out, and it’s the eyes that give it away, the eyes of the stranger that break Seven wide open.

“Oh, Jesus,” he whispers. “Get him in here! Now!”

Chuck doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t question Seven, which is why he holds the position that he does. As he flies back up the stairs, Seven watches the stranger on the screen and doesn’t know if he should feel elated or frightened. The man appears to be alone, and this breaks his heart.

“Sevvy?” Otis asks. “Who is he? Is he your friend?”

“Yeah, buddy, I think he is.”

“Who is he?” Edna asks, her voice low.

“I think he’s Felix’s father,” Seven breathes.

Otis looks confused for a moment, and then his eyes widen and his grin returns and he jumps up and dances around the table. Edna turns to look at the stranger with new interest, and they watch as Chuck pats him down before leading him in through the doors. They walk into the Station and reach the landing of the upper staircase, rebuilt years before. The man looks around in wonder, watching the people go about their day, shopping, working, teaching, living. Chuck glances at Seven, and Seven shakes his head once at him. They’ve worked together a long time, and Chuck knows Seven does not want him to point out where Seven is. He wants the stranger to figure it out on his own.

He instructs Edna and Otis to continue the conversation, and he joins in, watching carefully out of the corner of his eye. He sees the man say something to Chuck, and then Chuck shakes his head. The man appears frustrated, then resigned, and looks out over the crowd below. His eyes dart over everyone he sees, but then they stutter and become stuck on Otis. The man watches his friend as Otis tilts his head back and laughs, a loud bray that echoes across the room. The stranger looks unsure and then glances over at Seven, and Seven can feel the gaze boring into him, and he wants to turn and look but he won’t. Then the man is pointing at him and he walks down the stairs, followed by Chuck and other members of the security team. Only then does Seven acknowledge him, and he pulls himself to his full height and towers menacingly over the smaller man. He is surprised and pleased when the man stares up at him in amusement.

“Did you know the tallest man in the world was named Robert Pershing Wadlow and he was eight feet eleven inches tall when he died in 1940?” the man asks him, a small smile on his face.

“I don’t think I’m quite that big,” Seven says.

“I’m even bigger,” Otis growls at the stranger, baring his teeth. “I can squash ya if I wanted to.”

“I don’t doubt that,” the stranger says. “I would be perfectly squashable under you, I’m sure. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“You gonna hurt ’em?” Otis asks, his voice making it known that would be the stupidest idea in the world.

The stranger shakes his head. “I won’t hurt anyone,” he promises, and Otis grins at him. He turns back to Seven. “My name is Lucas Vanesco. Do you know who I am?”

Seven crosses his arms across his chest and stares at the man. “Vanesco?” he asks.

The stranger grimaces. “I was never fond of that name either. But it seemed… pertinent at the time to, uh, make a change.”

Seven nods, but says nothing.

“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” the stranger says, laughing.

“If you knew the history here, you wouldn’t be asking that question,” Seven says quietly.

“Ah, yes, I’d heard of the… unfortunate business that occurred here. My condolences to you and your family.”

“And how did you hear of it?” Edna asks.

The stranger looks grave. “It’s well repeated throughout the Elementals of the world. That the Iuratum Cor and his family were murdered along with scores of other people on the orders of the Scarred King.” He studies Seven closely. “But I see that those rumors were greatly exaggerated.”

“And why do you say that?” Seven asks curiously.

The man looks surprised. “You are Seven, are you not?”

“How do you know that name?” Seven asks.

Lucas smiles quietly. “Because you saved my son the night his mother tried to take him. Without you, Felix would have died and the world would be a very different place. He spoke of you often in the days that followed. He… he’s never taken off the necklace you gave him. And the promise it held… did you mean it?”

Seven finds he suddenly can’t speak, and his vision blurs, and the blood roars in his ears. He has the validation now that he has spent years searching for. Even though he’d agreed to abide by the Council’s decision, he never stopped searching for Felix in the years that followed. The trail had grown cold almost immediately, and with each passing year, the desperation grew until he was sure he would never find his other half. Long bouts of depression followed the attack on the Station, and when he was at his worst, he was sure he’d spend the rest of his life alone, convinced that Felix had found someone or something else or that he had died or any other scenario that Seven’s coldly imaginative mind could come up with. He has prayed for this news, but to whom he has prayed, he doesn’t know. Oh, thank you, he thinks wildly. Oh, thank you, God/Tree/ Prima/Whoever. Oh, Christ, thank you. He tries to maintain his composure, to show some kind of decorum (after all, he is in charge around here and he’s standing in the middle of the Pavilion and people are starting to watch him, but oh my God, Felix is safe and he’s alive and he’s okay, and the necklace, he still wears the necklace, and his father is here!). He hadn’t dared dream of this moment, and now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel real.

Felix’s father watches him closely, and his eyes are sad by the time Seven regains control of himself. “That is how I know you are Iuratum Cor,” he says. “Would you like to see a picture of my son?”

Seven nods, wanting nothing more in the world. Lucas Vanesco pulls out his phone, flips through the menu, and brings up a photograph taken with the camera on the phone. He smiles down at it and gives the phone to Seven. Seven sees a teenager grinning at the phone, his dark eyes sparkling, his handsome face strong and angular, his hair cut short, and doesn’t Seven feel a stirring then? Something not in his heart (although he’s sure it’s there too) but lower, something more base, more primal. It burns within him, and Seven feels a rush of lust and need, because Felix is no longer a child, and he has grown up into a beautiful sixteen-year-old, and Seven has to stop himself from growling at the picture. He has to stop himself from ordering that Felix be brought to him immediately. Their joining is still nine years away, and Seven doesn’t know if it’s a gift or a curse that his father is here and Felix is not. At least he’s safe, he thinks. But the primal part of him cares not for this; it just wants Felix before him now, splayed out, so it can do what it wants to him. It will dominate him, it will possess him, it will never let him out of his sight again.

“He is well?” Seven whispers as he fights against his own genetics.

“Quite,” the father says. “He’s a teenager, so of course he’s a handful. And….” He trails off.

Seven’s eyes snap open. “And what?” he snarls, unable to help himself.

Lucas Vanesco doesn’t flinch. “You should know he’s recently come out. You know, of the closet. He told me and his friend Jason that he’s gay.”

“Then it will be easier for him when we meet.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Lucas Vanesco squints ever so subtly. “Are you out yourself?”

Seven cocks his head. “It does not matter what I am. It only matters that Felix belongs to me.” He’s getting annoyed now, at this smaller man standing in front of him, questioning him in his own house. He wants nothing more than to smash him down to the ground and force him to tell Seven where Felix is. How dare he? Seven feels a vein pop out on his forehead as his nostrils flare, and he tries to control his breathing, tries to control the heat that is flushing against his chest and face, trying to control all of it before he snaps and breaks Lucas Vanesco in half. He’s not going to win this time, and he begins to reach out to grab the bastard when he feels hands drop onto his shoulder. He looks back and finds Otis watching him, concern adorning his once intelligent face. He struggles to free himself from Otis, but Otis’s grip bites into him further, and Seven sighs, and whatever it is that is burning him up is released.

“Better?” Otis asks.

Seven shrugs.

“Lemme see the picture.”

Seven shows him.

Otis grins. “He’s little. And cute. Yer gonna have your hands full, Sevvy.”

Seven snorts out laughter. “Someday, buddy,” he agrees sadly.

“Someday?” Lucas Vanesco asks. “It’s only a year and a half until his eighteenth birthday. He’s almost reached the age of reason. That’s why I’ve come, to make sure everything is in line for my son.”

Seven shakes his head. “It won’t be then. There has been a ban for an additional seven years, given the fact that I saved him from the fire.”

Lucas becomes angry. “Seven more years? Who gave that order? You saved his life!”

Seven pushes away the anger that threatens to rise. He’s been through this, he has accepted this. (Sure you have, a dark voice whispers.) “The Council, and they—”

“Was it Nero?” Lucas interrupts. “Was it that bastard Nero?”

“You know him?”

“You could say that,” he says, scowling. But on that subject, Lucas Vanesco/Thaddeus Paracel would say nothing more.

“I’m scared for my son,” he says. “The Elemental world outside of this place thinks you are dead. I believe that was the plan of the Scarred King. To kill you to make Felix more susceptible to outside influence, to attack. It is said that the Iuratum Cor is the moral compass for Findo Unum. By killing you, the Scarred King believes Felix will be wide open for the taking, either in death or for some other purpose.”

Seven glances at the beginning of the Guardians Circle and finds their eyes wide. They are thinking the same thing he is. “And how do you know this?” he asks carefully.

“Because,” Lucas Vanesco says quietly, “it’s what I would do if I was the Scarred King. Think about it, Seven. There is one person to counteract your own will in all the world, one person made specifically to oppose you. How would you deal with the Split One? Would you attack him head-on, knowing he is the most powerful being there is? No, because that would be suicide. You would take out his allies one by one, starting with the one person who will mean the most to him. And when he is broken and mad with grief, you come for him.”

“What would you have of me?” Seven asks.

The man’s eyes flash. “Protect him!” he shouts savagely. “Put as many men on him as possible and watch him at all times!” He begins to pace the floor. “I’ve tried so hard in the last seven years to make sure he is safe, but there are rumbles now, whispers being passed back and forth about what’s coming. I am not an Elemental. I cannot stop them should they come for him. I would die if it meant he would be spared, but I can’t even guarantee that!” He stops and looks warily at Seven. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a father and not even be able to protect your own child. It’s killing me and I’m scared. I need your help, especially if this is to go on until his twenty-fifth birthday.”

“You have these fears and yet you leave him alone to travel here?” Seven asks sharply, his ire growing. “Who the hell is watching him now when you are so far from home?”

“Far from home?” Lucas asks, confused. “It’s only an hour car ride from Alta. Felix is in school now.”

A hush falls then, as Seven lets the words sink in. He tries to tell himself that he hasn’t heard correctly, that this man, the father to his heart sworn, hasn’t just told him that Felix has been living only a short distance away. It blinds him, and he feels angry and tired, but his heart begins to beat faster, and from somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he hears a voice sigh his name. “How long?” he asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been in Terra City?”

“Since three weeks after the fire.”

“He’s been here this whole time?”

“Yes. We’ve changed our names and we’ve been able stay well hidden, but I fear that time may be ending.”

Seven closes his eyes. “What does he go by now?”

When Lucas doesn’t answer, Seven snaps his eyes open and sees that Lucas is watching him, his eyes darting nervously at the other people in the Pavilion. He takes a step back and wrings his hands together. “What is his name!” Seven demands.

“Will you protect him?”

Seven moves forward until his chest bumps the father of the Findo Unum. “You come to me, asking for my help, and yet you still doubt me?” Seven seethes. “He belongs to me more than he will ever belong to you, and you question me?”

Lucas raises defiant eyes. “I am his father,” he hisses. “Regardless of what he is to you, I made him and that will never change.”

“You may have done so,” Seven agrees, “but I will help him become what he is supposed to be. What is his name?”

“Seven—”

“What’s his name!”

Lucas watches him for a moment and then sighs, his head hanging. “Atticus,” he whispers. “Atticus Vanesco. We call him Addy.”

His name is Felix! he wants to shout. “Does he know about me? What I am to him? Does he know who he is?”

Lucas shakes his head. “It’s the only way I could keep him safe,” he says again. “Can’t you see it was the only way?”

Seven gazes at the man before him and feels sorrow and pity; regardless of how infuriating he is, this man has lost as much as Seven has, and he tells himself he has to remember that. Part of him still wants to lash out at the smaller man for having the gall to question whether Seven can protect Felix. It angers him, but it’s hollow and weak, and he lets it fade away.

“I will protect him,” Seven says quietly. “It’s what I was made for.”

Lucas raises his eyes, ever cautious. “Will you put him above all others?” he asks. “Will you put him before yourself?”

“I already have.”

Lucas hears this, and his chest hitches and he covers his face with his hands. It has been too many years of waiting and worrying to be able to maintain composure, and as Lucas Vanesco/Thaddeus Paracel struggles with his own grief, he makes the only decision he can.

“Then, yes, you bastard,” he snarls. “Yes. Yes, damn you. You may have my son. But if any harm comes to him under your watch, I will tear this building down around your ears and bury you along with your whole fucking people.” He bursts into tears.

Seven nods, believing the man would. He understands then that there is no distance this father will not travel for his son because he is the same. Seven thinks that this is where it begins, and he closes the door to his past, to his grief, and welcomes the future.

Felix, he thinks in wonder.

SEVEN paused then, his voice hoarse from use, and I got the idea he’d never spoken that much in his entire life. I rose from the bed, ignoring his protests, and wandered into the kitchen. I knew he was listening to my movements, but I had no plans to run. I couldn’t. He’d given up a lot, too much, really, and it was my job to help him carry the burden. I opened the fridge and grabbed him a beer and a bottle of water for myself and walked back to the room.

He watched me as I entered, his eyes never leaving me as I came back to the bed. I handed him the beer, and he grinned tiredly at me and took a long swig. His throat worked as he swallowed, the skin moving up and down slowly, beautifully. I leaned down onto the bed and licked the line of his throat, and he groaned into the beer bottle. I smiled quietly to myself and bit gently near the curve of his neck. He set the bottle on the nightstand and reached up and dragged me back to him. I lay flush against him, feeling how wonderfully strong he was beneath me. He shivered as my hands moved across his chest. Soon, I thought.

“Felix?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Mmm?”

“This last part is the hardest.” His chest lowered as he sighed.

“This is where you find me, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Where you stalk me?”

“Yeah.”

I raise up and straddle his hips and watch him watching me. I lean forward and press my lips gently against his. “Then finish it,” I said. “Let us be done with it.”

“You’re not scared?” he asked, doubt creeping in. “Of me?”

I slapped his chest, stinging my hand against his skin. “I could knock you into next week,” I teased lightly. “Why on earth would I be scared of a big brute like you?”

Those ocean eyes lit up beneath me, and he growled as he shifted and rolled me underneath him, careful, as always of my bruised body. He nuzzled into the hollow of my throat and inhaled deeply, taking me in. When he spoke, his lips moved against my skin, and the buzz picked up, starting in my toes and resting in my dick. This better be the shortest part of the story, I groaned to myself as he smiled against my neck.

“I knew I’d found the right person when—”

HE KNOWS he’s found the next member of the Guardians Circle when a Wind Elemental shows up at the Station door and insists on an audience with Seven. Chuck calls him down from the third floor, and as he reaches the Pavilion, he hears Dan Evans protesting loudly from outside the great doors.

“I demand entrance!” Seven hears him shout. “I’ve got shit to do!”

Seven rolls his eyes at the audacity of this outsider, wondering just who the hell he thinks he is that he can walk in like he owns the place. He’s not surprised when he hears Edna and Otis fall into step behind him. He grins to himself as he thinks of his little cabal, this great band of warriors consisting of an old woman, a passion-struck fool, and a man with a feeble mind. At least they’ve all got the loyalty part right.

He reaches the doorway, and much to Chuck’s dismay, walks out into the open with the stranger. He sees a tall black man, his head held high, his dark eyes flashing as he shouts to anyone that will listen, “I have every right to be here! Get your filthy hands off of me, you misbegotten cretins!”

“Oh, Lord,” Edna mutters. “He’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll sit on him,” Otis says and laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. He twirls a small ball of fire in one hand and a Desert Eagle .50 Caliber in the other. If Seven didn’t know him, he’d probably be running away as fast as he could. It’s a big gun.

“Who are you?” Seven asks, curious about this regal man. The man looks at him, and his shouts subside. He watches Seven with wary eyes.

“My name is Dan Evans,” he says, his voice strong and firm. “I have come here to join the Circulus Custodum. I am a Wind Elemental and demand to be tested to earn my rightful place amongst the Guardians Circle.”

Seven is about to bark some order to have this man taken away (seriously, can anyone just walk up to their home now?) when he hears Thaddeus Paracel shout from behind them. Seven gives a great sigh and rubs his hands over his face. It has been almost two years since the man arrived at the Station, and Seven is beginning to wonder if the hassle has been worth it. No matter what kind of threats have been made against his person, Thaddeus has refused to allow Seven to see Felix, citing the age of reason over and over again. Seven has thought multiple times about dropping the man from the top of the Station, but he resists the urge. Somehow. His information has been useful, and why wouldn’t it be? Seven has since learned that Mr. Paracel had managed to land a job with the Department of Defense in their R & D division, his fake credentials immaculate, his intel invaluable. Thaddeus believes that there is something going on much higher than his pay grade, something having to do with Elemental control. Seven has allowed him to continue his work, telling him the moment people start to question anything about him, he is to leave immediately. Thaddeus has agreed to this, and also agreed to allow members of the Elemental Security Force to tail Felix. It burns Seven that he is not able to do it on his own, but at least Felix has someone watching his back. And it has been quiet. For almost two years, nothing has happened.

“Do you know this man?” Seven asks, barely concealing his exasperation.

“Yes,” Thaddeus replies. “He was on the list. I told him to come here.” The list, of course, being the list of the known Elementals who are considered the most powerful and dangerous, kept by the DOD and other sectors of the government (the FBI, the CIA, even high-ranking members of the Republican party—it’s this last that scares Seven the most). Most have been able to elude capture, but some have been caught, and they’ve disappeared to a place that not even Thaddeus and Seven can follow. Thaddeus had gone to great lengths to download the list with the assistance of some of the techies upstairs. It was a tense thirty minutes that Seven never wants to relive again.

“And you never mentioned this to me?” Seven grinds out.

“It slipped my mind,” Thaddeus says, waving his hand dismissively. “Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another three days.”

“I don’t wait,” Dan says. “Now show me to the Iuratum Cor so I may have my say.”

“Then have your say,” Seven says, arms crossed.

Dan’s eyes widen as he looks Seven up and down, and Seven is at least partially put at ease when Dan drops to one knee and bows his head (although, if he’s being honest with himself, he is getting kind of sick and tired of all this genuflecting; is it really necessary?).

“Rise, oh ya gentle beast!” Otis cries out. Seven snorts with laughter, and Edna sniffs delicately as she rolls her eyes.

Dan does as Otis asks and rushes forward, wrapping his arms around Seven’s waist. Oh, for the love of God, Seven thinks as he pats the man on the back. “That’s… neat,” he says, trying to swallow the laughter that threatens to rise. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Dan pulls away, not looking embarrassed at all by his display. “I’ve heard you are in need of a Magister of wind,” he says breathlessly. “I promise you I am that Magister.”

“He don’t look like much,” Otis says, eyeing the gangly black man.

Dan narrows his eyes at Otis. “With your permission, Iuratum Cor, I will show you what I can do.”

Seven doesn’t think this will end well, but he nods.

Before anyone can speak, Dan snaps his hands up and out, and a great wind roars forward and strikes Otis in the feet, knocking him over. Before he can hit the ground, Dan twitches his fingers, and Otis shoots up on a current of air, rising fifty feet up the side of the building. The security force tenses, but Seven can hear the bellow of laughter coming from high above them, and he knows Otis is loving every minute of it. He waves his hand at Dan, who shrugs and collapses the current, bringing Otis gently (though not too gently) back down to Earth. Otis lands on his feet with a jarring thud. He wobbles around dizzily before collapsing to the side, gigantic tears of laughter pouring from his eyes. Chuck looks angry and Thaddeus looks clinical. Edna huffs gently, and the security force looks bemused. But it’s the mirth pouring from his best friend that cements his decision.

“Well, Dan,” Seven says as he grins, “looks like you’ve made your point. Welcome to the Station.”

A FEW weeks later, Seven wakes from a dream that he can’t quite remember. He had fallen into bed at the annoying hour of six in the evening, the rigor on his body finally catching up to him and taking its toll. He groans and glances over at the clock that used to belong to his parents in the room they had kept as their own. It’s only nine. He rubs his hands over his face and sees a flash from outside his window.

Thinking the worst, he jumps up from the bed and rushes to the window, expecting to see the Station under siege. What he sees instead is a thin thread of light stretching along the road, away from the Station and heading toward the City. A thin pulse beats along the line, and a voice says, “Seven.” He knows what this is, he knows who it will lead to. It’s November 23, 2007, and this day is the reason he has run himself ragged, why he has not allowed himself to think. It’s Felix’s eighteenth birthday, the age of reason, and it calls to him.

Seven thinks he is going to be stronger than the call. He has agreed to abide by the seven-year delay, but it hurts then, hurts too much to think it will be seven more years before he will be joined with his other half. Seven is twenty-five years old, and the weight of his hormones is almost killing him. Blood rushes to his cock, and he presses down on it, a delicious pressure that is like an ache that won’t go away. The thread calls to him, and he is angry at it, he hates it. He’s dressed before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t realize what he is doing until he is halfway to the city.

There are plenty of reasons for him to turn around, to stop this folly that will only end in him being hurt worse than he already is. But it is all shoved roughly aside when the line pulses in front of him, glowing brightly as he crosses the bridge into Terra City. He follows the thread through the winding streets of the City, across boroughs and neighborhoods, through the oversaturation that is Quadratum Plaza, to the darkened avenues that stretch along the harbor. He is entranced now, not even able to stop if he wanted to. The thread turns down a street-lit residential neighborhood, the brownstones rising quietly around him. Then the light explodes around him and disappears. He’s used to this. He’s seen it before. He parks his car and gets out, feeding quarters into the meter. He wonders if he should wait. But then his left foot moves, followed by his right foot, and he walks down the sidewalk.

And walks some more. He’s gone a mile, passing by strangers on the street, studying each one discreetly, waiting for the one. This voice in his head is getting louder, and he knows he is close. He turns a corner and is so lost in his own head that he doesn’t see the big guy in front of him. They crash into each other, and Seven is about to apologize when the guy turns and scowls at him, saying, “The hell you doing?” He’s about to shrug and walk away when the kid’s friend rounds the corner and says, “Why are you being all growly?”

The other kid (for he is just a kid, no matter how big he seems) scowls. “This fuckin’ Neanderthal just walks wherever he wants. Get the fuck outta here, big guy.” Seven is amused at this, seeing how the kid is almost as big as he is.

Seven turns to his friend to apologize, and his heart rises to his throat.

It’s Felix, and he’s watching Seven with careful eyes.

“OH MY God,” I breathed as Seven reached this part of his story. “Oh my God, I remember you. I—” He stopped my words with a powerful kiss. Everything was in that kiss.

THERE’S nothing that Seven thinks at that moment that he’s capable of putting into coherent words. It’s like his mind is wiped blank, and the lightning bolt that seems to fall from the sky strikes his core and stops the rotation of the world. He catalogues everything he can and will replay this moment in his head for what he thinks will be the rest of his life. Those hazel eyes, that blond hair, almost as short as his own, the small frame that still showed its strength. He thinks he shouldn’t be here, but he can’t think of anywhere else he should be. Felix’s beauty devastates him, annihilates every fiber of his being, and the voices shout in his head, they sing to him until he thinks his head will split. Seven wants to reach out his hands and grab Felix by the shirt and drag him in, to shelter him from everything around him. Seven can’t believe he agreed to seven more years of this, can’t actually believe he would have suggested this banishment. What the hell had he been thinking? It doesn’t matter now, because Felix is here, and he is safe, and Seven vows to never let him out of his sight again. Wherever Seven goes, Felix will go. Whatever Seven does, Felix will do.

Seven is almost unable to resist the urge to push the kid against the side of the building and latch his teeth against his neck and mark Felix as his own. The image sears into his brain, and he feels himself growing hard at the thought and has to stop himself from growling. Felix is still watching him, and Seven wants to (needs to) open his mouth and say something, anything, but he doesn’t quite have the brain function to perform such a task. He is mine, he thinks. He is mine, and the thought terrifies him like no other, but the empowerment that rises beyond the terror is stronger, greater in force. Only then does Seven realize he has to walk away. He still hasn’t said a word, and it’s getting weird, but he knows he is not imagining the palpable sparks flying between them, the way the air is thickening, and it would just take one movement, one small quick step to wrap himself around what is rightfully his. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Haven’t they both suffered enough? A promise was made to both of them, long before either of them were born, that they would belong to each other, that they would rely on each other, if only they could find each other. Seven has found him, and isn’t it his right? Who the fuck can deny him this?

All of this is broken when the other boy scowls at Seven again and starts to drag him away.

“Jesus, Jason, let me go,” Felix complains, struggling to turn and watch Seven. Seven tries to follow, but he can’t move, and he watches as they slip away into the crowd, down the street and around the corner until they are gone.

Seven slumps against the side of the building and gasps, clutching his chest as his heart begins to hurt. A man walking by warily asks if he is okay, and Seven just nods and waves his hand, motioning for the guy to walk away. He does, but it’s okay, because how could he ever understand what had just happened? The stranger could never know, and he leaves Seven alone in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

The stars above shine down, even if Seven can’t see them beyond the city lights.

TWO weeks later, he sees Kammy Basileus for the first time in four years, when she returns to the Station, and he feels a stirring in his loins. It’s not the same, and he knows it’s wrong (how could anyone who is not his Iuratum Cor be right?) but he can’t help laugh at the sparkle in her eyes, the way her little strong body moves, the curve of her breasts, the flow of her hair, even if it is born out of a desperate loneliness that claws at his insides. He tells himself he can’t be joined with Felix as a virgin (how embarrassingly awkward that would be—but then logic jumps in and says if that’s the case, he needs to go fuck some dude. Baby steps, he tells himself. Baby steps. It still feels like a lie).

Three weeks after she returns, she is in his room and in his bed, and as he looks down at her, she arches her back and pushes against him, and his mind is giddy (for does a cock really care where it goes as long as it’s tight?) but his heart is gone, and he is miserable and he feels like a fraud, like he could never be the man Felix needs him to be. He comes, but it is a release that carries nothing: it’s empty, meaningless. When he pulls away and lays on his back, he feels her roll over, and her hair spreads across his chest, her breasts pressing against his skin. He opens his mouth to tell her how nice that was, to thank her for everything she’s given him, but what comes out instead is, “You know this won’t last, right?”

He can feel her tense against him, and he tries to summon remorse but only feels sorry for himself. He knows he’s an asshole of the highest order, that it’s not Kammy’s fault that she is here, but he feels the need to be honest even though she should already know.

“We’ll just have to take it as it goes,” she says quietly against him.

Later, after she has fallen asleep, he rises from the bed and stares out the window at the City in the distance. What are you doing right now? he thinks. Do you even remember me?

Unable to stop himself, he reaches for his phone and dials a phone number he had stolen years before. The phone rings and rings and rings. Then a voice mail picks up and says, “You’ve reached Addy’s phone. You know what to do. If you don’t, then I’m surprised you were able to dial a phone.” He gasps out loud and covers his eyes as his body shakes.

Four more years pass.

KAMMY joins the Guardians Circle, much to her father’s pleasure and much to Seven’s annoyance. She is a powerful Earth Elemental, and even better, is strangely adept in anything and everything weapons-related. She teaches Otis all she knows, and even though he doesn’t trust her in the slightest, Otis relishes learning more than he already had. Seven watches them practice with silent bemusement and feels his mind crack a little further. He thinks of Felix.

Thaddeus Paracel brings him another member for the Circle in the form of Amy Star. She’s twenty-four, and he’d gotten her name off a dishonorable-discharge list that he’d come across. Apparently she had been defending a recently outed Elemental who served under her. And “defending,” she would tell Seven later, meant she’d actually broken the arms of six men, the noses of four more, and the legs of a colonel. She avoided military jail when the Elemental had come to her defense, listing off the years of abuse he’d received at the hands of his sadistic squadron. Seven is unsure about having another non-Elemental (a Normal, his mind whispers) in their group aside from himself, but then he sees her take down his security force in an exhibition match in one of the training rooms. It’s when she leaps over a boulder an Earth Elemental had hurled at her, flipping off the top of the rock with the push of her hands and landing on the shoulders of her assailant, twisting and flipping him through the air, that Seven realizes maybe she doesn’t need to be an Elemental, that she’s scary enough.

He pulls her aside a year and a half before the seven-year ban is lifted. “I have a job for you,” he says slowly.

“Boss, I’d thought you’d never ask,” she says, laughing. “I’m getting kind of sick of kicking everyone’s asses around here.”

“Maybe you could lay off for a bit?”

“Tell your guys to stop staring at my rack.”

“Then stop wearing shirts that don’t cover anything.”

She shrugs. “I was in fatigues for six years. It’s nice to be reminded I’m a woman every now and then.”

He rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m a walking contradiction, boss. Now tell me the damn assignment.”

“How do you feel about insurance?”

Her eyes narrow. “Oh, you wouldn’t.”

He grins. “I would. Starting Monday, you’re the new hire at Fides Indemnity and Casualty. It’s an eight-to-five office job. Aren’t you so lucky.”

“You know I can kill you, right?”

“With just your pinkie, I’m sure,” he admits. “But we need to start mapping out the Cantio Building, planning for any contingencies should the need arise.”

She watches him closely. “Got a feeling, boss?” she asks quietly. “This why you’ve been gone so much lately?”

He shrugs, unable to tell her that yes, he’s got a fucking feeling, he’s got a billion of them, and they are all screaming at him that they are not watching Felix closely enough. He doesn’t tell her that he has taken to following Felix around the City, that he started almost immediately after listening to the voice mail that night so long ago. He doesn’t tell her that he sees Felix walking in the rain, sees him at the grocery store. He doesn’t tell her that he follows Felix when he gets coffee, and he certainly doesn’t tell her when he follows Felix to the bars, to all the goddamn bars he goes to. He hides in the dark corners, watching as his heart sworn is picked up again and again and again by strangers, by random hulking strangers. He doesn’t tell her that it takes all he can to stay in his seat and not rush over to Felix and tear apart the latest trick piece by piece until there is nothing left but a pile of blood and bone. He doesn’t tell her that he comes home from these excursions exhausted and weak and angry and hurt. He doesn’t tell her that he no longer finds any comfort in Kammy and that lately, he has been pushing her away. He doesn’t tell her he is a bastard because he feels no remorse about this. Instead, he rushes back into the City and follows Felix from place to place: work, home, the movies, the grocery store (how many Cup-A-Soups does one person need? he thinks on more than one occasion—but then he goes home and demands the staff in the kitchen to order a year’s supply).

He waits outside Felix’s apartment at night, watching the snow fall, staring up at a lit window he’s memorized as belonging to his heart sworn. He’s watchful, always careful to make sure Felix never sees him, but more so, to make sure no one ever sees Felix. Felix doesn’t know how close he came one night to getting mugged (the thought that Felix could handle himself never crosses Seven’s mind). The man had a knife out, and he was about to pull Felix into an alley when Seven reached out and bashed his head into the wall, snarling all the while, making the motherfucker bleed. With the man unconscious, Seven follows Felix the rest of the way home, and it’s only there that Felix takes the earbuds out of his ears and switches off his iPod. Seven breathes a sigh of relief and does it again the next day, and the next day, and the next day.

“Just a feeling,” he tells Amy.

She’s not fooled but is wise enough not to call him out. “Should I approach him?”

He thinks hard for a moment. “Ye-es,” he draws out. “Like, be friends with him?”

She nods. “You going to be okay with that, if I do?”

He scowls at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She rolls her eyes and says nothing.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Just keep him safe.”

She smiles, and the following Monday, she begins her exciting new career as a claims representative. “It’s different,” is all she’ll say about it. But the grimace on her face says it all.

SEVEN is watching Amy and Felix have lunch one day, and he reminds himself to tell Amy to make Felix eat more. Every day his lunch seems to consist of coffee and gum, and Seven won’t stand for it. His heart sworn needs to eat more. And by God, he will do as Seven says, even if it’s not Seven giving the direct order. Felix tilts his head back and laughs, and Seven smiles quietly to himself as he sits back on the bus bench, his laptop beside him, forgotten for the moment. He has been working on plans for evacuation from Felix’s home and the Cantio Building, should the situation call for it (and he hopes it doesn’t, because his ideas for Plan B and C are absolutely nuts, even to the point that Amy looked at him like he was stupidly insane), but now that Felix is out in the sunshine and laughing like he hasn’t a care in the world, Seven is distracted, but pleasantly so. He thinks there has never been someone as handsome as his Findo Unum. He grins like an idiot as he blushes and shakes his head.

It happens quickly. One minute his laptop is beside him and the next minute it’s gone. He starts to rise, but he hears a crackling snap and his feet are suddenly cold, and he sees they are covered in ice and he is frozen to the ground. He looks down the street and sees two teenagers running away. The one carrying his laptop turns and grins as he salutes Seven, and then they disappear around the corner.

Seven is annoyed now, angry, even, but it’s not at the fact that his laptop has been stolen or that he has been iced to the ground; no, he’s angry because the thieves have the audacity to ruin the hour he now allots himself every day to see Felix. He is so close to getting what he wants that he has forced himself to focus on the final touches of his training, of the Guardians Circle, of making sure his home is ready for Felix. And now that hour has been ruined, and Seven is pissed.

He jerks his legs upward as hard as he can and the ice shatters around his feet, and he takes off after the thieves. He flips open his phone and activates the primary tracker installed on his laptop and follows it for four blocks, twisting and weaving through the crowded sidewalks. Then the little blip on his phone goes off, and he knows they have disabled the tracker. They are good, but he is better. He activates the secondary tracker (he can at least do that now—a few weeks ago, Seven didn’t even know what a secondary tracker was; he hates technology with a passion) and follows it to a decrepit apartment building in the Docklands. He snaps a photo of the building with his phone, which is then converted into a three-dimensional image with the floors of each building clearly laid out on the screen (most of the time he hates technology; however, it’s useful when little punks interrupt Felix time and he is forced to hunt their asses down and make them sorry). He sees his laptop is on the fourth floor, and he enters the building and goes up the stairs. Loud music blares from an open doorway on the second floor, a woman breast-feeds a baby while talking to a man in a language Seven doesn’t recognize. They eye him warily as he passes, and he wonders if he looks like a cop. He nods at them and continues up to the fourth floor. He pauses at apartment 403, wondering again why all these numbers seem to add up to seven (is it kismet or blue-car syndrome?), and he pulls the SIG Sauer P220 out from the left shoulder holster, leaving the right one in—it doesn’t seem like a two-gun deal. He taps the barrel on the door once… twice… three times.

And he waits.

And waits.

And he’s about to knock again when a cheerful voice says, “Say cheese!” and he looks up and growls at the camera he’d missed when he arrived. He hears a low rushing of air, and he dives out from the front of the door, and it explodes outward as a huge block of ice crashes through it. Seven lands on the ground and feels a sting on his legs. Great. Not only did his lunch get interrupted and his laptop stolen, but now he’s got little shards of wood sticking out of his legs. He is beyond pissed. He’s going to do this the old-fashioned way. He holsters his gun and walks through the dismantled doorway and growls at the Asian twins that stand before him.

“Jesus, Tick,” says the right twin. “That guy’s a monster. What do you think? Bovine growth hormones?”

The left twin (Tick is his name?) frowns. “It’s possible, Tock. He certainly looks like he is capable of ’roid rage.”

The right twin (Tock?) eyes him with new respect. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go into ’roid rage before. Is it like Hulking out?”

“Totally,” Tick agrees. “Full on Lou Ferrigno. None of that artsy Ang Lee, Eric Bana bullshit.”

“Argh, I hated that movie!” Tock groans. “The Hulk looked like he was made of Play-Doh.”

“Totally Gumby-fied,” Tick says. “But slap some green body paint on Admiral Biceps over here and I’d believe it.”

“Remember how they made She-Hulk, and even though it was weird, we thought she was hot?”

Tick laughs. “That’s because she was. Give me a pair of those green gozongas any day.”

Tock grins. “Yeah, but each one would be, like, the size of your head. Oh. Oh! I get it now! I’m on board with that, brother from the same mother. Bring on the hotness!”

“Boys?” Seven asks, unable to keep his amusement from his voice.

“Yes, sir?” they reply.

“Are we done yet?”

Tick glances at his brother who cocks his head. “Done with what?” Tick asks.

“You talk a lot.”

The brothers smile. “We have a lot to say,” says Tock.

“How about we talk about giving my laptop back?”

They look at each other and nod and turn back to Seven. “It’s top of the line tech,” Tick says, touching the computer gently.

“You’ve got big ol’ manly sausage fingers,” Tock tells him. “This baby is too pretty to let a brute like you touch her.”

Seven shakes his head. “But it’s mine,” he reminds them.

“Why do you have the floor plans for the Cantio Building?” Tick asks. His face drains of color. “Oh my God, are you a terrorist?”

Tock looks pale and wan. “Oh, shit. Did we steal a computer from a terrorist? Are you going to blow up the Cantio Building?”

“I’m not going to blow up the Cantio—”

“Wait, what do they even do there?” Tick asks his brother. “Maybe we want it to get blown up.”

Tock thinks for a moment. “It’s a bunch of offices, I think,” he says finally. “I know they have, like, a PR firm there and an auto insurance company. Maybe some lawyers.”

Tick looks at Seven. “Do you hate lawyers? Or auto insurance?”

“Or PR firms,” Tock whispers to his brother.

“Or PR firms?” Tick asks Seven.

“I don’t have anything against—” Seven tries again.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t like the building,” Tock says.

“Like, he hates the architectural style?” Tick asks. “That’s not very nice. I’m sure someone worked very hard to design that building.” He frowns at Seven.

“And we don’t want anyone to get blown up,” Tock reminds his brother. “Those poor people don’t need to die.”

“Unless…,” Tick says.

“Unless what?” Seven asks, unable to help himself.

“Unless the entire building is filled with terrorists!” he says excitedly. “Then it would have to be blown up!”

“Oh, wow,” Tock says reverently. “I never thought of that.” He looks at Seven and whispers, “Is that whole building filled with terrorists? Is that why you are going to blow it up? Is the PR firm and lawyers and auto insurance just a cover for some deep dastardly secret organization bent on world domination?”

“There’s no secret organiz—”

“I always thought there was something fishy about that place,” Tick says.

“No, you didn’t,” Tock says, rolling his eyes. “You only thought so because I thought so.”

“You’re such a liar! Remember when I said—”

“Tick!” Seven barks. “Tock!”

“What!” they snap back.

“Give me the laptop!”

“Come and get it, She-Hulk,” Tick says, laughing.

Tock grins. “Oh, good one.”

It’s over before it ever really begins. Seven has already decided that these two are the final members to make up the Circulus Custodum, and it helps that they appear to know more about computers and crap than he ever will. He’s looked around while they spoke back and forth and has seen the computer parts and CB radios and flashing monitors that litter the small apartment. He wonders what these two will be capable of if they are let loose on the Station’s tech floor. He thinks they will be like kids in a candy store. But first, he needs to show them who is in charge. He’s silent and fast (and pretty irked at the She-Hulk comment, if he’s being honest with himself), and he watches as Tick snaps back and flips on the sink, water gushing out the faucet, and he grabs the kid’s raised hands as water begins to burst around them and grabs the twitching hands of Tock as the debris begins to move around him, and he spins them around and shoves their hands into each other’s faces.

“Holy shit!” Tick breathes. “Dude, you are fast!”

“Tick!” Tock sputters, drowning in the water still being flung at his face. “Turn off the waterworks!”

“Sorry,” Tick grumbles and relaxes his hands. The water splashes onto the floor… right onto the laptop. Tock’s hands go limp, and a piece of plaster falls from the air… right onto the laptop.

“Oops,” Tock says. “That’s gotta suck.”

“We stopped the terrorists!” Tick shouts as he dances.

“I’m going to kill you both,” Seven growls.

“Eh, we can fix it,” Tock says as he picks up the computer, tipping it on its side to let the water gush out.

“Probably fried the motherboard,” Tick says with a grimace. “You got those schematics backed up?”

Seven looks at him blankly.

“It means saved,” Tock explains slowly. “Backed up on a disc or another hard drive or a network. Can. You. Access. Them. From. Somewhere. Else?”

“I don’t think he knows what that means,” Tick whispered loudly. “That’s so sad.”

“He probably can’t even turn on a computer because his fingers are too fat,” Tock says, giggling. He starts pawing at the laptop and growling. “Why you not open! She-Hulk smash! She-Hulk mad ’cause she computer retarded and can’t even back up files! Grawr!”

“Do you boys want a job?” Seven asks, desperate to get them to shut up. He thinks if he can get out of here in the next five minutes, he might be able to see Felix before he goes back upstairs.

“A job?” Tick asks, his eyes wide. “We aren’t terrorists.”

“I don’t think I’d be a very good terrorist,” Tock tells Seven. “It seems like way too much work, and I’ve heard the retirement plan isn’t that great.”

“How do you know that?” Tick asks curiously.

“Think about it,” Tock replies. “How are you supposed to draw from a fully vested 401K when you’ve slapped a bomb to your chest and blown yourself up?”

“Ah, good point. Do we get a 401K if we work for you?” Tick asks Seven.

“I would like stock options. And the option to not strap a bomb to my chest and get blown up,” Tock says seriously.

“Do you know what the Iuratum Cor is?” Seven asks them quietly.

Their banter immediately ceases, and they watch him with wide eyes. They’ve heard of him, it seems, or at least of the heart sworn. He waits to see if there will be any fear in their eyes, but there is not, only the same sort of reverence he is used to.

“Yes,” Tock says, his voice low. “The Iuratum Cor is the heart sworn to Findo Unum. We’ve heard… rumors… but nothing was ever substantiated.”

“Especially since the Iuratum Cor was supposedly killed when we were kids,” Tick says in the same hushed voice.

Seven shakes his head slowly. “They tried,” he says, “but they failed. And approximately one year from now, I will join with the Findo Unum and things will change for everyone.”

Their jaws drop, and Seven smiles quietly to himself. He likes it better when they don’t talk so much. “Where are your parents?” he asks.

Tock shakes his head. “Haven’t been around for quite a while,” he says, still shell-shocked.

“And how old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Tick says.

“Are you in school?”

They stare at him as if he’s full of shit. “Who has time for school?” Tock asks, his voice incredulous.

“We’re way too smart for school,” Tick confides. “We were considered too much of a liability, but it’s only because we could have taught the class instead.”

“You’ll both return to school at the Station and get your GEDs,” Seven says, his voice leaving no room for debate.

So of course, the Twins have to debate. “Are you out of your damn mind?” Tock snaps.

“Iuratum Cor, my ass,” Tick hisses. “He’s a goddamn truant officer!”

“Boys!”

“What!”

“Pack your shit. We leave in thirty minutes. Take everything you’ll need for now, and we’ll send people back for the rest. You won’t be coming back here.” With that, Seven picks up his wet laptop and leaves.

He only has to wait nine minutes before he hears them thumping down the stairs, seeming to run as fast as they can. They see him and try to act nonchalant. It doesn’t work. At all.

“Big man thinks he can boss us around,” Tock grumbles as he hoists a huge bag over his shoulder. “Things are gonna change, you better believe it.”

“We’ll show him,” Tick mumbles, making sure his laptop case is zipped and locked. “We don’t take crap from anyone.”

“Did you notice how he didn’t even ask us if we wanted to go?”

“Yeah, it was all, like, ‘I’m overgrown and macho and you do what I say.’ Jerk.”

“And he’s all, like, ‘You will go back to school because I said so and my head is huge because everyone loves me.’ What an ass.”

“And then he’s all, “I’m going to leave you behind if you don’t pack up your entire life in four minutes.’ Rude much?”

“Of course it’s rude! We have a lot of stuff! He better be right about sending people back to pick up the rest. If he doesn’t, I’m gonna go Earth all over his ass and throw a building at him.”

“You can’t throw a building; it’s way too big.”

“I can too! Don’t be jealous because all you can do is make puddles.”

“Whatever. Do you think we’ll get our own room?”

“Duh. I bet it will be huge too.”

It’s not lost on Seven when he begins to walk faster and they run to catch up.

IT’S also not lost on Seven as they arrive back at the Station and Edna, Dan, Kammy, and Otis are waiting for them, as if they’d known. It’s not lost on Seven when Edna immediately begins to mother Tick and Tock, and they put up a good fight, but he sees the hunger in their eyes, resplendent and vast. It’s not lost on Seven when Kammy wraps her arms around his waist as if he belongs to her. It’s not lost on Seven when he realizes that the Circulus Custodum is complete and there are seven members. Seven members and the Iuratum Cor. There is one person missing from all of this, and as Seven hears the excited chatter of the twins, he closes his eyes and breathes. Only one more year, he thinks to himself. I’ve never been this close. Only one more year.

It’s not lost on Seven when his hands begin to shake.

SURPRISINGLY, it’s the fastest year of Seven’s life. Plans are made and put into place. The twins are ecstatic at their new digs, now referred to as the Tech Cave. Dan and Edna prepare to be the Magisters, poring over old texts in search of any secrets they do not know about Wind and Fire Elementals. Kammy and Otis play with guns. Amy and Seven work out until their muscles shake and sweat pours from their bodies. Seven sleeps with Kammy, each time telling himself it will be the last time. The twins modify the Plans A, B, and C for the Cantio Building. Amy looks at them like they are all crazy.

Seven watches as Felix takes another drink of coffee. Seven lays in his bed, the victim of another sleepless night. Amy comes home from work and tells yet another story about Felix, and Seven hates her for it, hates that he is unable to be the one sharing with him. Otis has a scare with a blood clot in his brain, a black reminder of the vicious attack years ago. The blood clot breaks apart on its own. The Council meets with the Circle and approves, even though it is not really up to them. Nero remains silent and Seven follows suit. Tick and Tock turn out to be powerful Elementals in their own right and beg Seven to let them be on the security force. Seven rolls his eyes and tells them to go study. They graduate with their GEDs three months after they arrive. They bug him some more. Seven breaks from his daily lunch-stalking routine and follows Felix to a club. He watches Felix go home with another stranger. He waits outside all night. Felix comes out the next morning, bright and early. Seven makes sure he gets home okay. He sees Jason more and more and thinks that maybe the Circle isn’t complete after all. He wonders if there is room for another and if it might make the transition easier for Felix (and if he’s again being honest with himself, doesn’t he wish Jason could be his replacement for Kammy? He feels guilty about this, but only for a moment).

Then they are all distracted when a senator from Illinois lays the groundwork for what will become the Elemental Registration Act. They are shocked when there is no valid opposition, when the ideas become actions and the actions become reality. There is an influx then of people to the Station, people wanting to hide their loved ones or themselves. It’s not uncommon to wake up in the morning and find an abandoned child outside the Station.

There is a rise of violence against Elementals. Some fight back, some don’t know how. Elementals are killed, and the outcry is small. Normals are killed and marches are held, evangelists scream at the horror of it all, news pundits give weight to the ERA. A pro-Elemental movement rises, but it is small and ends in tragedy when a shot is fired (who fired the shot? No one knows) into a crowd of protestors. More shots ring out and chaos ensues, and when all is finished, thirteen Elementals are dead and four Normals are dead, two of which are cops.

Seven orders the security around the Station to be tightened, the computer programs updated, and for everyone to be logged in and out wherever they go throughout the building. There are some protests at this, but Seven points toward the door and gives them the option to leave. There are quiet thoughts, mutinous thoughts, but Seven and the Council put an end to those almost immediately, the instigators thrown out of the Station. It’s a divisive time, and Seven can’t have his people turn against each other, especially when it seems the rest of the world is ready to do that for them. The President has not yet spoken on the matter, and that causes more fear.

Everyone waits and watches.

THERE comes a point, then, when everything starts to happen at once. It is a few short weeks before Felix’s twenty-fifth birthday. Seven has followed him to a bar and takes a seat against a far wall, hidden by shadows. He watches as Felix sits with Jason and scowls to himself when Jason reaches up and tugs gently on Felix’s ear. Nothing has ever indicated that they are anything more than friends, but Seven growls at the thought of another touching Felix. He glares at Jason until he feels his phone vibrate. Kammy. Again. He sighs and texts her back, letting her know he is busy and doesn’t have time for… whatever. He thinks he shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place. He thinks that maybe she’s just using him per her father’s orders. He thinks that maybe she loves him. That hurts him the most because he will never love her. Not the way she—

But then he feels something that interrupts any other thoughts he will have that night. It’s like a lick of fire against his skin, and he feels his face grow warm and his body begins to vibrate. He feels it in his ears and toes and heart and cock. He grows hard, and he looks up and finds Felix watching him. There is a moment then, when everything fades around him and the lights go away and the people go away and it’s just him and Felix, like it ought to be. He’s been caught, it seems, but he can’t bring himself to walk away like he should. It’s only a few weeks more, but this… this is too much. This is everything to him. His heart quickens and his breath is ragged, and he wants to grab Felix by the scruff of his neck and drag him home and never let him leave the room again. He wants to bend him over the nearest table and fuck him, fuck him until Felix is screaming and writhing and begging him for more. He shudders, and Felix looks away.

He sees Felix begin to rise and knows he will be coming for him, so Seven does the only thing he can think of: he runs.

But he’s back a night later, haunting the sidewalk across the street from Felix’s apartment. The lights turn off, and he breathes a sigh of relief. But it’s only moments later when they snap back on, and he tenses. He waits for them to turn back off. He waits for the windows to darken, and they do… but then Felix walks out the front door and hops into a cab. Seven gets back into the SUV and follows, his heart sinking when he realizes that Felix is going to Liquid. Again.

He’ll tell himself later that everything that followed was meant to happen. He’ll tell himself that he should have had better control. But a part of him, that low and primal part that gnashes and snarls, tells him that no one besides Seven will ever touch Felix again. He no longer thinks it is wise to ignore this part of himself, and like slipping into warm water, he submerges himself.

He’s hiding in a dark corner when a big man approaches Felix. Felix smiles and grabs the man, pulling him to the dance floor. He begins to rub up and down on the stranger, and that part of Seven that hates the sight of Felix lowering himself roars forward, and he’s on his feet before he can stop himself.

“You want to get out of here?” the man who only has seconds to live asks Seven’s heart sworn.

He thinks he has one more chance to back away, but the voices in his head are as loud as they’ve ever been, and he growls, “No, he doesn’t.” Felix’s shoulders tense and he turns, and when he sees Seven, his eyes widen and his mouth goes slack. The roar in Seven’s ears reaches fever pitch and his vision narrows, and he is on the hunt.

The stupid man in front of them doesn’t seem to get that Seven wants him dead. He opens his stupid mouth and spills his stupid words. Seven is ready to murder his stupid head off his stupid body and reaches out and wraps his arms protectively around Felix. He feels Felix gasp as their bodies connect, and with all the force he can muster, he allows the dead man one more chance to bow out: “He’s already made up his fucking mind, so get the hell out of here before I make you leave.”

The man makes the smartest decision of his life and walks away.

Seven steps away from Felix then, his heart beating in his ears, his hands cold and clammy. He drags Felix to the corner of the bar. What follows then is years of anger and loneliness, heartbreak and triumph. He thinks of his parents as he tells Felix he belongs to him. His mother, with her knowing face; his father, with his intelligent mind. He wonders what they would think of him now, wonders if they would be proud of the man he has become. The games are done, this nonsense is over. Felix will be coming with him, the Council and the seven-year ban be damned. It has been twenty-five years since Seven was told he was Iuratum Cor, and he won’t go another minute without knowing his other half every single day for the rest of his life.

So, imagine his surprise then, when Felix meets his words with cool amusement. Imagine his distress then, when Felix doesn’t seem to take him seriously. He can’t know that Felix is torn and twisted on the inside, that he feels almost the same as Seven does. He can’t know that his words are something Felix has longed to hear. The chemical cocktail that makes Seven who he is knows that this is the closest he’s ever been. His body is on fire and his mind is a bundle of live wires and he has to stop himself from taking Felix right there. And it puts him on edge when Felix fights back.

His heart sworn is handsome—beautiful, really—but he’s even more; he’s brash and funny, smart and sarcastic. He duels Seven with his words, and Seven doesn’t think there is anyone more frustrating than Felix. Seven is at once amused and exasperated, horny and angry. When Felix tries to leave, Seven almost lets him; after all, isn’t the chase part of the fun? But he’s tired of chasing after his future. He grabs Felix by the arm, hard but not too hard, forceful but not like an asshole. At least he thinks so. “Asshole,” Felix says, scowling at him.

Or maybe not.

“I’m not jealous,” Seven snarls, but it’s a lie.

“You think you’re so fucking cute,” Seven growls, even though he knows it’s true.

“You’re coming with me,” Seven orders, unsure if it will actually happen.

“I’ve been stalking you,” Seven reminds him, the prior years a long, dusty desert.

“We’re not done yet,” Seven barks, because they will never be done.

“Just as long as you know you’re sleeping next to me,” Seven promises, and it’s this last that excites him the most.

And then the name slips from his lips, that name that has haunted him for most of his life. He says, “Felix,” and he sees the eyes of his heart sworn widen, and he thinks maybe he’s made a mistake, that he’s come on too strong. But he’s come too far to stop now. “I’ve waited so long to see you again,” Seven says, his voice breaking as he reaches up and cups the cheek of the man he needs to be with. He’s not blind to the fact that Felix leans into his touch, and he brushes his thumb over the smooth face. “It was killing me,” he says, and it’s the most honest he’s been in years. He pulls Felix’s face close and is this it? Is this how it’s going to be? But he loses his nerve at the last second and shies away from the kiss, putting his forehead against Felix’s instead. He breathes in deeply and inhales his other half. Felix smells crisp and dark, like sandalwood drifting on an ocean current. Felix shudders against him. “Are you cold?” he asks.

Felix stares at him with those wide eyes. “No,” he says, his voice husky.

Seven rubs his hands along the back of Felix’s neck, and his fingers tremble over a chain. His heart stops then, and he pulls the chain out from Felix’s shirt and hears Thaddeus Paracel’s voice ripple through him—
he never takes off the necklace you gave him

—and it warms him as he holds the medallion in his hands, the promise so much more than he could ever have hoped it would be. Es cor meum. You are my heart. “I am your Iuratum Cor, Felix,” he says then. “And you are mine in return.” The words roll off his tongue like he has spoken them every day. He promises himself that he will speak them every day.

Felix asks for another bottle of water. Seven is not fooled. The game has changed, and things will never be the same.

HE’S awed, minutes later, at the display of power that Felix shows the world. He’s rushing down the street when he hears a loud crash and sees an SUV flip across the sidewalk. His heart explodes as he runs toward the alley. People have already gathered, but he pushes his way toward the front. He sees a woman cowering down the alley behind a dumpster. He sees an Earth Elemental crack the ground wide open and raise a boulder that spreads across the alley. He sees Felix with his back to the crowd, his body tense, his hands flexed at his sides.

“No,” Seven breathes as the Earth Elemental snaps back and forward. The rock wall flies toward Felix, and Seven is too far away, he can’t get there in time, he’s too late. But then Felix moves, faster than humanly possible, and drops to his back and calls the wind that rockets the concrete into the air. He climbs to his feet and his right hand erupts, and the fire is brilliant as it spears the sky. He follows the incandescent blast as it explodes against the concrete.

This man… this man is his man.

Felix turns and sees Seven at the front of the crowd.

“I’m going to my home,” he calls out.

Maybe for one more night, Seven thinks. “I know where you live,” he says with a grin.

“I know, but could you just stay away?”

Not even if I wanted to. “Do you really want that?”

“Yes, I do,” he says, but even Seven can hear the lie, the way Felix’s voice wavers.

“For how long?”

Felix sighs, and the sound is heady. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

Now he gets it. “Never in your life,” Seven swears.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Oh, you most definitely do. It’ll be easier on us both if you just stop fighting me on it.” Seven means business, and he flexes his considerable arms against his considerable chest. He feels hot when he notices Felix noticing him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Felix asks, his smile splitting the world.

Seven is tired of wondering. “Come over here,” he demands. “Now.”

He’s touched and moved when Felix immediately obeys. The little guy walks up to him and puts his hands against Seven’s chest, and Seven wraps his arms around Felix. He gazes down into the eyes he’s dreamed about since he was six. He lowers his face and brushes his lips against Felix, and everything makes sense, everything is right with the world, the past is ending and the future is now. He sees those big eyes staring into his, and he kisses Felix gently again, almost unable to stop himself from fucking him right there. It would be easy. So easy.

Felix steps away. “You said I was your Iuratum Cor,” he says raggedly. “And you were mine in return.”

Seven nods.

“What does that mean?”

Everything, he thinks as he is consumed. “It’s Latin. It means heart sworn. You belong to me. And I am yours.”

Felix runs.

“Soon,” Seven shouts after him. “I’ll see you soon.”

SEVEN wakes the next day harder than he’s ever been, and when he opens his eyes, the dream follows him out. “Something’s wrong,” he whispers. He doesn’t know how he knows, he doesn’t know why he knows, just that he does know. Maybe it was the awesome display of power Felix had shown the night before. Maybe it’s because he’s never been this close to him before. It doesn’t matter. Something is about to happen. It’s Tuesday, November 4, 2014.

He’s shocked when he glances over at the clock and sees that it reads eleven in the morning. He leaps from his bed and is down on the Pavilion floor before his vision clears. Otis sees him charging out the elevators and jumps to his feet. “What’s wrong, Sevvy?” he asks, great concern marring his gentle face.

“I don’t know!” he gasps out. “We gotta go. Get Kammy and the twins. I think it’s started.” Otis stares at him until he shouts, “Now!” and then he’s gone.

Dan and Edna rise from their seats and look at Seven worriedly. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Edna asks him quietly.

Seven nods tightly, his mind racing over everything he needs to do. He’s ready, he knows he’s been ready for years, but it feels like there isn’t enough time.

“What can we do?” Dan asks.

“Get a security team over to Felix’s apartment and pack up his shit,” Seven says quickly, already anxious to get on the road. “Set it up in the spare room. Have them be quick and quiet and make sure they watch their backs. I want you two to oversee the move.”

“We got it, boss,” Dan says. He pulls out his cell phone and dials three numbers before he starts barking orders as he walks away.

Edna watches him with cautious eyes. “You be safe,” she tells him, zipping up his coat. “You be safe and you get that boy home.”

“I’m scared,” he whispers without meaning to.

She smiles beautifully at him. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t. But you are also more than that. You are the heart sworn to the Findo Unum. You are his protector, and now it’s time to do your job.” She hugs him tightly, her words a desert wind across his ears. “Bring him home. It’s time.” She pulls away and starts snapping orders to those that have gathered around.

He turns and sees the twins behind him, their bags loaded with computers and communication equipment. “Is this it, boss?” Tick asks him excitedly.

He nods. “You boys remember the plan?”

Tock rolls his eyes. “You mean the plans that we came up with? Sure, boss. We’re a go.”

Kammy joins them, followed by Otis. Her eyes are hard, her face a mask. He doesn’t have time to deal with her now. Both she and Otis carry green duffels, and Seven knows they have enough fire power to take down a small army in them. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but it’s part of the plan.

“We are bringing him home,” Seven says, the command in his voice booming across the Pavilion. “You will do your jobs like we’ve practiced. You will not stray from any order. Tick, Tock, you’re with me. Kammy, Otis, get to the Munus building, seventy-ninth floor. This isn’t a goddamn exercise. Do you all understand me?”

They nod.

“Move!” he shouts.

THERE’S an accident on the bridge into the City, and Seven is about to lose his mind. Tock taps the steering wheel impatiently as Tick powers up four different laptops from the backseat. His nimble fingers fly over the keyboards, calling up commands and programs like only the twins can do. He reaches back into the bag and pulls out one of the motion detectors and inspects it closely.

“Fuck!” Seven screams, pounding his fists on the dash, listening to Amy’s phone go straight to voice mail again (he doesn’t know then that her phone is at the bottom of her bag, and a book has fallen on top of it, resting against the power button, switching the phone off—what are the chances, he’ll wonder later).

Tick and Tock are wise when they stay silent.

Traffic moves a half hour later, and by the time it does, Seven is about ready to open the door and run the rest of the way. The twins give a shout of joy and Tock floors it, the SUV darting expertly between the slower vehicles. Seven glances down at his watch. It’s 12:42.

The call he’s been dreading comes twenty-three minutes later. He glances down at the caller ID, and his skin goes cold as he sees it’s the op phone they’d stored in Amy’s contingency bag. “Amy!” he shouts in answer.

“Boss,” she says quietly, “it’s happening.”

“Tell me,” he grits out.

There are two men on the floor, asking questions. She has a camera already set up and thinks more men are on the way. He has known her for a while now and recognizes the specific cadences of her voice, and now he hears the soldier speaking back to him, the hardcore bitch who will fuck anything up that gets in her way. His chest constricts, but he knows they are as ready as they will ever be. Why did I let him walk away last night? he thinks, berating himself. Oh, God, if something happens to him….

He needs to hear Felix’s voice. “Put him on,” he growls. He covers the phone as he waits, snapping at Tock to drive faster. Tock tosses him a tight smile and does eighty down Fortuna Avenue.

“Hello?” a voice whispers in his ear.

The relief that washes over Seven then is like nothing he’s experienced before. It breaks through the terror he feels, if only for a moment, and it allows him to breathe. “Felix? Are you okay?”

There is a sharp intake of breath over the line, and then Felix answers angrily, and Seven smiles quietly to himself. Felix isn’t so far gone that he still can’t get mad at his stalker, which, given the circumstances, is a good thing.

“I’m coming for you,” Seven growls. He can see the top floors of the Cantio Building and snaps at Tock to drive faster.

“I’m scared,” Felix tells him, and Seven closes his eyes.

“I know, little man,” Seven says, his voice rough. “But I’m coming for you. I promise nothing will happen to you if you do exactly what I say when I say it.” He thinks hard for a moment and when he speaks next, his voice drops and he rasps out: “And you are never leaving my sight ever again.”

Amy comes back on and reminds him about the fire exit. “Tick! Tock! Why haven’t the alarms been cut yet!”

“I’m driving,” Tock snaps at him.

“Hold it, hold it,” Tick mutters. “They’ve got… fifteen seconds. Now!”

He hears them running down the stairs as Tock pulls into the alley that wraps around the back of the Cantio Building. They burst through the construction blockade, and Tock spins the wheel dangerously, causing the SUV to spin and face the opposite direction. They jump out of the vehicle and start setting the motion detectors across the alley. It seems to be going okay, and Seven thinks that maybe they can pull this off, but then he hears a deafening explosion over the phone, and his mind erupts and he starts screaming. “Felix! Amy!” He hears a grunt as something slams into something else and he’s out the door looking up at the building where he thinks they are. Of course, he sees nothing but the falling snow. He’s about to tear into the building when he hears Felix groan in his ear. He hears Amy’s warning that they’re coming, and Seven has never felt more helpless in his life. “Get up now! I’m here, Felix! I’m waiting for you downstairs and you need to come to me! Get the fuck up!”

He hears Felix rise but it does nothing to calm his nerves. There are sounds of a fight going on, then two quick gunshots, and he hears Amy grunting. “Holy shit,” Felix says. “She’s a ninja.”

Amy comes on moments later. “Boss, there are too many of them coming up the stairwell.”

He rubs his hands over his eyes. “Plan B,” he says quietly, and he thinks it’s the worst idea he’s ever had.

“Fucking Plan B,” she mutters, but she grabs Felix as they head for the roof. But then, of course, comes the one thing he’d never planned on, the one thing he didn’t think to account for, and when Felix says it (“I don’t like heights”) he’s about to start pulling out his hair. He wants to hit something very hard. He wants to break someone’s face in. Tick and Tock watch him warily and inch away from him. “Shit,” he breathes. He didn’t want it to come to this, he didn’t want to have to force the issue, but they’re running out of time. “There’s always Plan C,” he mutters, wondering if Felix is going to light him on fire when he hits the ground. Amy groans in his ear, and Felix shouts at him, but he can hear them moving and that’s all that matters.

“Boss!” Tock shouts at him moments later. “They’ve got company!

“Jesus Christ,” Tick breathes. “They sent an entire goddamn platoon!”

“Boss, will this work?”

It has to, he thinks. He wonders if he is just lying to himself.

They burst through the rooftop door, and he hears Felix’s voice go high, strained, and scared. It’s only then that Seven notices how badly his hands are shaking. “Go to the edge of the building. Now,” he tells Felix, his voice hard.

“Fucking asshole.”

Seven runs to the driver’s door and hurls it open. “Are you there?”

A tremulous “Yes.”

“Look over.” And Seven begins to flip the headlights on and off. “Do you see the lights?”

“Yes.”

“That’s me doing that. I’m here and you need to come to me.”

“How?”

And when Seven speaks now, he has time to ponder his words as he stares up toward the roof, almost eight hundred feet overhead. When he tells Felix he has to jump, he grips the phone so tightly he worries it will shatter in his hands. How could they have thought this would work? Just what in the hell were they thinking? If they pull this off, Felix is going to murder him.

Then—

“Are you out of your fucking mind!”

Seven sees red. “You get your ass down here right now!”

Amy, ever the conscience, says, “Boss, you’ve got about a minute.”

“Felix, you have to trust me!”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!”

“You will,” Seven says, and he puts everything he has into those words. Seven knows then that if something should happen to Felix this day, that if Felix should die, and if his abilities transfer to Seven, Seven will lose his mind. He will tear this building to the ground. He will make all of those responsible suffer like they never thought possible. And once it is over, once he’s had his revenge, he would find some dark quiet corner and lie there until he drifted away. He knows now that without Felix, there will be no Seven.

“Es cor meum,” he says. “Did you find out what that means?”

“Yes,” Felix whispers. “It means you are my heart.”

Seven’s own heart is about to burst. He sighs. “And I meant it the day I gave it to you. You are my heart, Felix.” He hears Felix start to choke and mutter. “I had to leave you behind then, but I will not do that now.” And then, even though time is running out, even though men are coming to take away what is his, he has to ask, he has to know. “Do you remember me, Felix?”

“Seven,” he breathes, and the name upon his lips is the greatest thing Seven has ever heard. Seven thinks then that he never really thought this day would come, where he would hear his name said with such abandon, such heat, and he is out of his mind now.

“Ten seconds!” Amy shouts.

“Seven?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to leave me behind again?”

“Never in your life.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Too fucking bad! he screams in his head. “Amy!” Seven roars. “Plan C!”

He shouts at Tick and Tock to get back into the SUV. Tick screams into a comm, and Kammy and Otis shout back their responses. They’re ready. Tock floors it, and the vehicle fishtails to the left on the snow, and Seven looks up and Tick looks up and Tock looks up and all three say at the same time: “Oh my God.”

Seven hears the sharp tat-tat-tat of gunfire erupting from the rooftop as two figures sail over the edge. Time slows down around them, and Seven feels his body start to buzz. He hears sniper fire from the opposite building, but his attention is drawn to the plummeting figures and he thinks NOW NOW NOW and then, as if he caused it, he sees a hand raise and a burst of air blasts down, shattering the sides of the Cantio Building. Glass sparkles in the snow, and the wind strikes the ground and explodes outward. There’s a great metallic moan as the winds begin to shift and spin, and a tornado erupts from the ground, smashing through the construction site, rising and razing up the side of the Cantio Building. “Oh, my sweet Jesus,” one of the twins mutters in awe, and Seven agrees because in all his years surround by Elementals, in all his history with them, he has never seen such a display of power. He feels the SUV start to slip toward the tornado, and Tock slams his foot down on the brake and snaps up the emergency brake. Seven’s eyes shoot up, and he sees black figures bent over the side of the building, firing down at the falling figures. He sees Amy snap a gun upward, but he doesn’t know if she can hit anything. There are too many for Kammy and Otis to finish. They never planned for this. They never thought there would be this many people coming after Felix. If this ends badly, it is all going to be Seven’s fault.

And then the unthinkable happens. A great burst of fire erupts from Felix and shoots toward the sky. Tick and Tock shout in alarm, and Seven groans as it shoots past the roof, the men scattering backward. But he should never have doubted his Findo Unum, because Felix’s arm slams back down to his side, and the fire reverses directions and falls onto the rooftop, exploding in a magnificent blast. Felix and Amy sink into the middle of the tornado as fiery destruction rains down from the sky. Tock flips the SUV around, and they all watch as Felix pulls the tornado down around him and it collapses, forming a great spinning storm above their heads. The remains of the rooftop and the soldiers hit the storm and spin off in all directions. Tock dodges an air-conditioning unit as it bounces toward them. Then the winds stop. The car stops.

Seven doesn’t think he’s ever moved as fast in his life as he does then. Before he knows it, he’s holding Felix in his arms, the debris around them burning, the building behind them groaning. He can’t believe it’s here, that it’s finally happened. “Hello, Felix,” he growls, and his joy knows no bounds.

“I did what you asked,” Felix chokes out. “Please don’t leave me behind again.”

Seven holds him close. “Never again.”

“Boss!” Amy shouts, but he already hears them, the gunning engines, the coming death, and Seven has come too far, he’s put Felix through too much to ever let it end like this. He shoves Felix against him and shelters him as the Humvees screech to a halt. He reaches into his jacket and is about to pull out his gun and shove Felix toward the open car door when he feels a hand on his chest, and a great burst of air rushes against him. He screams as he flies back, his mind black and angry. He’s about to hit the ground when he hears words snarled that rip at his soul: “You will not fuck with what’s mine!” He crashes to the ground, and it’s jarring, and he can feel his back scraping against pavement, but his eyes are drawn to the white flame that explodes from his Iuratum Cor, a blinding fire that strikes the gunman, causing his gun to explode, causing him to explode, before it strikes the Humvee and flips it onto the other vehicle. He rises slowly to his feet as Felix sinks to his knees, and the scream that Felix lets out is so filled with horror and desperation that Seven almost breaks right then. He rushes to his Findo Unum, his other half, his Felix, and drops to his knees before him, brushing a hand over his cheek.

“Findo Unum,” Seven whispers.

“Yes.”

“Es cor meum.”

There is a chemical flash behind Felix’s eyes, a spark of recognition, and it doesn’t come from them but from all the Split Minds. For the first time in almost three hundred years, the Animo Dimidio has found his heart sworn. “Ut tu meus,” Felix says, his voice deep and ancient.

Seven kisses him then, there in the middle of the burning devastation, and there’s a connection formed, a strong fibrous link that binds them together. Seven hears the voices singing in his head, and he feels a fire burst in his core, and it warms him from the inside out. It will only be his forever, he promises himself. It will only be him and me. He feels the strength of his Findo Unum, his heart, and he knows he has found his home, his home at last.

Chapter 7

There was no wind in all that sweep of sky.

—Frank Yerby

IT FELT like Seven had been talking for days (or was it weeks? years?). His voice was small by the time he finished, his breath hot and harsh against my skin. I searched myself to see what I felt, to see what his life would mean to me. I didn’t feel pity because I knew he wouldn’t take it. I did feel sorrow, though, and it stabbed through me, and all I wanted to do was curl around him and make him forget, at least for a night, all the tragedies of his life. His family had been ripped from him, and it was because of me. The guilt weighed heavy on my mind, and no matter what Seven would say against it, it would still be there, nagging and biting at the back of my mind. Maybe it would be there for the rest of my life. I didn’t know.

He mumbled something against my neck, something I couldn’t quite make out. “What’s that?” I asked gently. I touched his ear, his hair, his cheek, watching him as he lay atop me.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked again, refusing to look me in the eyes.

I thought for a moment, not meaning to delay answering him, but wanting to be as honest as I could. That morning I had woken up as Atticus Vanesco, insurance-claims representative extraordinaire, who had an intense crush on a man whose name I didn’t know. That person had never jumped (been pushed) off a building to get to someone. That person had never taken out soldiers with guns. That person did not have people fall to their knees around him, binding themselves to him. How different everything was! How strange the world seemed! And it all came back to this man, this giant from my childhood, who clutched at me, waiting for my answer. Es cor meum, he’d promised me so many years ago. Es cor meum, he promised me now. And even though I felt that itch to run, that itch to hide, I knew he would find me, no matter where I went. It might take time, and he might let me be, but he would still make himself known. But that thought hurt too much. I didn’t know if I could do that to him.

Sounds like you have your answer, the voice inside me mused. He’s probably having a heart attack, and here you are talking to yourself. Just tell him what he wants to hear. God knows you already made up your mind when you fell off a building for him. What more do you need?

The voice was right, of course. I had already made up my mind. “No,” I told him, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I’m not going to leave.”

His eyes flashed almost angrily, the shyness gone, the big guy sure of himself again. “And why not?” he growled as he raised himself over me, and I felt the heat emanating from him, caressing and burning my skin.

I grinned as I looked up at him. “Because you’d just drag me back here, anyway,” I teased.

“You’re damn right I would. Why else?”

I rolled my eyes, but only because his big paws were rubbing against my stomach, inching lower and lower, playing, mocking me. I wanted to get on with it and shove his hands down my jeans. I was done with talking, I was done with sharing; I wanted to fuck, and I wanted it done now. The big guy and I still had too many clothes on, and it was bugging the hell out of me. He lowered his mouth and licked my stomach near the waist of my jeans, and I gasped, shuddering underneath him. “Why else?” he rumbled.

“Because I belong to you!” I panted, trying to squirm away from him and against him all at the same time. He knew his effect on me, and I could feel his smile against my skin. He bared his teeth and nipped my side, biting gently, sucking until his mark was on me, his beard scratching my stomach deliciously.

“Do you belong to anyone else?” he snapped, pressing down hard against my cock. I opened my eyes and found him watching me, testing my reactions, seeing what got me off the most. He reached up and twisted my nipples savagely, and I cried out, arching my back into the touch. “Do you belong to anyone else?” he asked again.

“No, no,” I begged. “No one else. Only you and always you. Just… please!”

He grinned down at me, a smile that was at once vicious and devastating. “Please what?”

“Oh, Jesus, you bastard, you stupid bastard! Seven, just fucking do it already!”

His eyes glinted, and I knew he was going to play with me some more. I was tired of playing. I was tired of games and waiting and wondering. It felt like I had been waiting my whole life for this one goddamn moment, and he was like a cat playing with its dinner (I hated cats). I snarled at him and thrust my left hand against his chest and let a minor wind blast rip from my palm. It knocked against his chest, and he grunted as he flipped off me and onto his back. Not waiting for him to react, I pounced on top of him, my hands finally able to explore the miles and miles of glorious skin. He grunted in surprise and grabbed my face, pulling me in for a bruising kiss. This wasn’t going to be lovemaking, this wasn’t going to be sweet and kind and beautiful; we were both too pent up for that ever to happen. It was going to be quick and nasty and dirty, the way it should be. I ripped open the front of his jeans and pulled out his cock, hefting its weight in my hands, feeling it pulse against my palm. He rocked his head back as I swallowed it whole, feeling the salty tang rip through my throat. His hands felt rough in my hair, and I pulled back and licked up the underside of his dick, my eyes open and watching him as he gazed down at me, his eyes clouded and dull. His mouth was slack, and his tongue flitted out to wet his lips.

I took all my years of experience and gave him everything I had. I worshipped him, reaching up to pinch his flat nipples, clawing at his chest, moaning my pleasure. My tongue twirled over the hard ridges in his stomach, blowing on the wetness it left behind until gooseflesh prickled up and out against his skin. He babbled something in my ears, but I was on a singular mission, my focus too great to care about his moans and undulating body. I felt the flare in me burst as brightly as it ever had, and I closed my eyes and was momentarily blinded by the whiteness of it, the sheer brilliance that he made in me.

His chest began to rumble, and I could feel it vibrate against my hands as I returned to his dick, biting and nipping, scraping my teeth against the head, against those nerves I knew would be on fire. He started leaking then, and I lapped it up, bittersweet and strong as it melted on my tongue. His back arched off the bed, and he reached down again to hold my head, to regain the control he thought he had. I let him have it. I let him believe he had it. He held my head still and began to fuck my mouth, pushing in deeper and faster, hitting the back of my throat again and again and again until my eyes watered, until my jaw went numb. He groaned out a warning, and I knocked his hands away, snarling at him to fucking let go of me, that I needed to do this. His eyes widened before he closed them, and his head flew back, his chin jutting toward the ceiling. I grabbed his balls and felt them shift beneath my hands, and then my mouth was flooded, pulse after pulse, and I swallowed as quickly as I could, loath to let any escape. He started to spasm at the heat and the sensation, his body jerking up and down, his stomach and chest tightening. At last his orgasm ceased, and I cleaned him quietly, lovingly.

His breath was ragged in his throat when I rose above him, smiling wickedly before stealing a kiss, opening his lips with my tongue, making sure he tasted himself on my lips. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and there was something hot about me still wearing jeans while his were at his ankles. He pulled away and gasped for air, nodding his head to the side while he caught his breath. I wasn’t done, though. I still wanted to play. I licked his ear, chewing on the earlobe, breathing heavily along the shell. His dick had started to flag but perked right back up.

“Ears,” I breathed on him. “Looks like I found one of your spots too.”

He nodded jerkily and pushed back into my mouth. I grinned at this, this wonderfully complex man who was so simple at his base. I knew it would be like this between us, when we weren’t around others. Here, in our bedroom, he didn’t have to be a leader, or a survivor. He didn’t have to be a beacon to his people. Here, he was mine, and I would see his true face, beyond the bravery, beyond the strength. Here, he would be with me.

“You’re going to fuck me now,” I hissed at him. I felt his whole body tense, but then his cock jerked against my stomach and I knew there was no doubt.

I eased off him and stripped my jeans off, making sure he was watching all the while. The ocean in his eyes was stormy and flashing. His chest rose and dropped. I stepped out of my jeans slowly, stretching in front of him. He reached down and gave his cock a few practiced tugs as he gazed at me, his jaw set and determined. “Get the lube and condoms,” I ordered him.

He shook himself out of his reverie, and his movements were staccato as he reached down to the floor where he’d dropped them earlier. I was about to crawl back on top of him when his hand lashed out and grabbed my arm. I squawked, very unsexy-like, as he jerked me down onto the bed. I landed on my back, and he leaned over me, and his body was so massive that it blocked out the light from the room. His face was dark, but I could still see his eyes. “Tomorrow,” he said huskily, “we are going down to the clinic to get tested. After that, there will be no condoms. There will be nothing between us. Do you understand?”

I almost wanted to rile him up again but lost the urge as he dropped a painful kiss, biting my lower lip and stretching it out gently. His eyes were possessive as he stared at me, daring me to contradict him. I nodded. And then all the courage left him, and it was like he deflated and collapsed in on himself. He sagged against me, and the tape against my chest tugged and the bruising burned but I ignored it. I reached up my arms around him and held him close. Seven buried his face against my neck and shook softly in my embrace.

“What is it?” I whispered.

He shook his head.

“Seven. Tell me.”

“What if I’m… you know… not good enough?”

I smiled against him, relishing his hair against my fingers, his beard brushing against my skin. “You are my Iuratum Cor, yeah?”

He nodded.

“And you want me?”

He nodded again, this time more fierce in his movements.

“Then we’ll take it as it comes. It will be whatever it will be, because we were made for each other.”

He raised his head and searched my eyes, looking for any doubt to my words. I showed him I had none. His hands shook as he raised the lube. I took it from his fingers. He blushed as he looked down at my chest. “What?” I asked

“I want to do it,” he mumbled.

“Do what?”

He shrugged. “Put that… stuff on you.”

I jiggled the bottle in my hands. “This stuff?”

He nodded, his face flaming red.

“And how do you want me?”

“Just like you are,” he said hoarsely. I knew he meant more than just the question I had asked, and I kissed him gently.

“On my back, then?”

He took the bottle from my hands, and I ripped open the box of condoms, fingering the foil as I heard the lube snick open. I tore the wrapper with my teeth, tasting the rubber in my mouth. Then his hands were on me, in me, and my brain short-circuited as his talented fingers shifted in me, one, two, then eventually three. Sweat lay in a sheen against the hair on his chest and a drop fell onto my lips, and I sucked it down greedily. He moaned again at this and twitched his fingers and hit a fleshy spot in me that caused me to almost leap from the bed. Slowly, surely, his confidence returned, and that smug smile adorned his face again. That knowing, knowing bastard.

I slicked the condom over his cock, and he tugged on it gently, his hands glistening as he brought them to my hair. “You’re so going to owe me a shower after this,” I grinned at him.

“I’m going to owe you everything,” he said and pushed his way in.

There was a moment, then, as he rocked against me, that I understood what it truly meant to be on fire. His hand slid underneath to my back, urging me to arch against him, and his breath was hot and heavy in my ear, and my thoughts were jumbled and incoherent as he snapped his hips, the slap of skin against skin ringing throughout the room. He made promises then, promises with his voice, with his body, with his heart, and I answered them all, knowing I would die if I didn’t. The world is on fire, I thought wildly. See it burn and oh, my God, it burns for us. I chanted his name, groaned his name, screamed his name, and it was like we’d always done this, like it was always me and him. The chemical cocktail that was my body responded to every touch, every hiss of breath, every stutter in his heart.

He rocked back on his knees and pulled me up with him, and his arms wrapped around me as I sat in his lap, and he kissed my jaw, my cheek, my eyes, my forehead. It was so much, it was too much, and I wondered what would have happened if I’d never found him, if he’d never found me. Most never find their other halves, he’d said, so long ago. If we’d never found each other, there would have been always something missing in our lives, something dark and irreplaceable, and I rocked against him, forcing him deeper and deeper. I could feel my right hand heating and my left hand blew a cool breeze through his hair, and then we came, his hips jerking against me, his teeth bared as he snapped them against my neck. I tossed my head back and saw stars.

I pulled back up to him, riding the aftershocks as I licked the sweat from his brow. I felt powerful, heavy and tired. The smile he gave me was at once dazzling and predatory. “Now,” he breathed, “we are one.” The sneer on his lips twitched.

“Es cor meum,” I said, losing myself in his eyes.

He crushed me to him and laid me back against the pillows.

“Always,” he whispered. And then I floated away.

I AWOKE briefly at the sound of a ringing phone. I felt a flash of cold air as Seven extricated himself from my sleepy grasp on him. I mumbled something dangerously at his person, warning him to get back in bed, and he chuckled softly and leaned down and kissed my ear, his beard wonderfully scratchy against my cheek. I watched him answer the phone, gloriously nude, his skin a deep brown in the moonlight that poured through the window. His ridged stomach constricted and tightened, his long thighs like slabs of granite. I watched him until I fell asleep again, sated and happy.

IT DIDN’T last long.

I opened my eyes again and saw that while it was a half hour later, Seven still hadn’t returned. I stretched and growled at the empty room as my back popped. Our first night together, and he’s leaving me alone in his big stupid bed? I thought. Not gonna happen. Gonna go find the big guy and drag him back in here. I might not get three days, but by God I will have one night.

So of course I was cranky when I lifted the covers off me and felt the cold air assault my skin. I grappled around the dark, trying to find my jeans. I slid them on and walked to the closet to find another shirt, seeing as how the one I’d been wearing was in tatters on the floor. “Making me get up in the middle of the night,” I grumbled. “Gonna blow him right out the window.” My feet were cold so I slipped on my shoes. “If he makes me go downstairs, I’m gonna light him on fire,” I promised the dark room.

I walked out of the bedroom and stopped, hearing voices coming from the office, the door shut, light sliding through the cracks. I rolled my eyes and wondered why Seven felt the need to conduct business at three o’clock in the morning. This was not going to happen again. Bedtime was bedtime.

I had no intention of eavesdropping; as a matter of fact, I intended to knock and walk right in. He’d said this was my home too, right? I didn’t think much of the closed door, because this was my house now. I was going to walk right in that room, and my hand was raised to knock when I heard Kammy’s voice, and I stopped. “I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this!” she snapped, her voice pitched angry and hurt.

“Keep your voice down,” Seven said tiredly. “I told you not to wake up Felix. He needs his rest.”

“In the bed that I shared with you for how many years?”

“You knew from the beginning how it would be,” Seven said. “I told you every time that we wouldn’t last.” This struck me, as much as it had during his story. He had told her from the beginning that he was sworn to someone else, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still feel for her or she for him. I closed my eyes, remembering the dark senseless jealousy roaring through me when he’d spoken of her, about how he felt a stirring when he looked at her. I had almost interrupted him then, telling him to skip over that part and continue with the rest, that I didn’t need to hear it, but somehow (however masochistic it was) I let him finish. Thankfully it was brief. But now here she was again. And as part of the Guardians Circle, there she would continue to be. I told myself I didn’t trust her because she was Nero’s daughter, but I was lying. I didn’t trust her because she’d gotten to him long before I had. It was easier not to think about that.

And apparently, she wasn’t finished. “You’re straight!” she hissed. “How the hell can you justify any part of this!”

“Justify?” he said angrily. “I am his Iuratum Cor! How could you need to know anything beyond that?”

“You don’t have to fuck him,” Kammy growled. “Just keep up appearances, but make him keep his hands off of you. Jesus, you saw him downstairs earlier! He kept rubbing his hands all over you. It was disgusting! And in front of my father! He may be the Split One, but he’s still just a little kid.”

“You watch what you say about him,” Seven warned dangerously. “I won’t have anyone here talk shit about Felix. He’s almost twenty-five years old. He’s more mature than most people I know. He has to be, because of who he is, what he’s gone through. And you saw how he handled himself today, Kammy. He did things most people would have cowered from. And,” he added, “you’ll notice I was the one not letting him go.”

“Didn’t you feel anything for me at all?” she said, her voice wavering. I knew she was about to start crying, and I felt my face grow hot. I was angry and embarrassed. It pissed me off because as much as I wanted to hate her, I could understand her position, her feelings about the big guy. Even though she’d been warned that they wouldn’t last, that he was waiting for someone else, how could she stop herself from feeling for him? I didn’t think I could do that, had I been in her shoes. There was something extraordinarily magnetic about Seven, something I knew had nothing to do with who he was to me. He was big and strong and hot as all hell; who wouldn’t want that?

“I did, Kammy,” he sighed. “I do. Just… not the way you think. Felix needs me now, and I am going to give him all I can.” It was at that moment I would have traded in all my abilities just to be able to see through this solid door. Was he comforting her, his arm around her neck? Was he hugging him to her, feeling her tight little body pressed against him? Did her smell bring back memories? She had lain in his bed long before I had, and for much longer that I’d done. Maybe he missed her. Maybe he did care about her. Maybe the only reason he was with me was because he’d been told all his life he had to be. Isn’t that like being brainwashed? I thought. He was conditioned to want me because everyone told him he would.

Right, it scoffed back at me. Do you not remember the way he was just touching you? The way his eyes looked down at you when he pressed into you for the first time? You can’t fake that.

But remember what he said in his story: a cock doesn’t care as long as the place is tight, I reminded it. You can’t tell me that didn’t burn.

It did, it conceded. But isn’t it better for him to be honest than leave you wondering? It would have led to this exact moment—you jumping to conclusions.

I could hear her crying through the door and Seven whispering something to her, something I couldn’t quite make out. Was he consoling her now with sweet words? Was he telling her that he was sorry, that he missed her too? He didn’t know what he was doing with me, that much was obvious. I was the first guy he’d ever been with (and you will be the last, it reminded me) so what the hell did he know? He was told to want me so he did. He had a part to play in my life and so he acted it. My conscience chided me all the while, but I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t stop the thoughts. It bugged me, it angered me, it haunted me, and all of a sudden, I was overwhelmed by a desire to see Jason. Jason, my best friend, who I had hung up on earlier today. Jason, the first big guy in my life who made everything okay. I needed to see him. Face to face. Now.

I ran back to the room and threw on my hooded jacket and scarf. I walked back past the office, the lights still on, quiet murmuring still beyond the door. I wasn’t running away, I reassured myself. I just wanted to see my friend. I would come back.

Wouldn’t I?

And then of course my escape plan came to a crashing halt when I got to the elevator and pressed the button and nothing happened. I stared at the finger pad and pressed my thumb against it. It scanned me and then flashed red, beeped three times, and went dark. I tried it again. Nothing. Stupid technologically advanced elevator in this stupid train station.

I walked quickly and quietly over to the windows and saw that they weren’t the kind that opened. I tapped on the window and saw it was suicide glass. It wasn’t a matter of getting down from here (hell, what was thirty feet compared to the top of the Cantio Building?) but I knew that the shattering of the window would not go unnoticed, and it seemed imperative that I leave without Seven knowing. Oh, because he won’t come after you at all, it said, bemused. Just how far do you think you’ll get before he realizes you’re gone?

Maybe Kammy will keep him distracted for a while, I thought darkly. Maybe she’s good for something after all.

It sighed in my head.

Looking around, I saw nothing that would help. Nothing, that is, until I saw Seven’s cell phone lying on a table near the elevator doors. He’d obviously set it down there when Kammy arrived, most likely to have his hands free so he could clutch her to him in a passionate embrace (Oh Jesus Christ, the voice muttered). I snapped up the phone and flicked through the list. I thought for a second about calling Jason, but if I couldn’t even get out of the third floor, how would he get into the Station? I flipped through the list, pausing at Amy for just a moment, but then clicking past and arriving on an entry titled Tick/Tock. The Clock Twins. The technological geniuses. Exactly what I needed.

“Boss, this better be good,” a sleep-rough voice told me. “We haven’t had time to make those restraints for Felix yet. I figured you’d have your hands full enough as it is.” I heard his twin snort laughter in the background.

“Is this Tick or Tock?” I whispered.

“Felix?” the twin asked. “It’s Felix!” he told his brother excitedly. “It’s me, Tick. Tock’s right here, though, if you wanted to talk to him.” The tone in his voice told me he thought that was the worst idea ever.

“Tick, I need your help,” I told him. “I’m trying to get off the third floor, and the elevator won’t open for me.”

“Why are you trying to leave?” Tick asked, sounding concerned. “Are you and Seven fighting already?”

“Maybe it’s some kind of sexual hide-and-seek,” Tock said in the background.

“Oh, good point,” Tick said. “Are you and Seven playing sex games? Wanting to get your kink on already? Did I say that right? Get your kink on?”

“I don’t think that’s how you say it,” Tock said.

Fuck me. “No, we’re not playing games. I just want to… go for a walk. I can’t sleep and I want to explore.”

“At three in the morning?” Tick asked. “Why don’t you have Seven let you down? We were gonna get you added in to the Station’s security program tomorrow.”

“He’s asleep and I don’t want to wake him.”

“Tick!” Tock whispered urgently to his brother. “Look.”

I could hear the shuffling of the phone, as if the receiver was covered, and they whispered unintelligibly back and forth. “Tick!” I snapped. “Come on!

“It’s Tock now,” Tock said. “So, Felix, why is Kammy shown as being logged into your floor?”

“Are you guys going to let me out or not?” I growled.

“Where are you going to go if we do?”

“Out.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked, his tone betraying nothing.

I thought hard for a moment, and it made me sick. “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Felix, it’s Tick again. You realize the boss man is gonna hunt you down, right?”

“I know.”

Tick sighed. “Where are you going?”

I glanced back at the office door, the light still on. I couldn’t hear anything anymore, but that probably just meant they were fucking. “I want to see my friend Jase.”

“Jason Taylor?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah.”

“I’ll let you out under one condition.”

“What, Tick?”

“No, it’s Tock again.”

“Just tell me!”

“We’re going with you. Tick and me promised to protect you, so if we do this, the big man is going to chew our asses out, so we may as well get to say at least we went with you.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. The wide open third floor was beginning to feel small and tiny, and I felt claustrophobic. “Open the damn door!”

“Wait for it… Tick, you’re entering in the wrong commands. You are too! See, look, it’s—oh, just let me do it. You would think this was your first time using a computer. You’re as bad as the boss man. You’re right, that was mean. I’m sorry.”

“Tock!” I almost shouted.

“Okay, you’re good. We’ll meet you down in the Pavilion.” The scanner flashed green and the elevator doors opened. I ran inside and smashed the button. The doors closed behind me, and I closed my eyes in relief.

The doors opened a moment later, and the Clock Twins were already waiting, dressed and ready to go. I scowled at them as they waved frantically at me. Both had matching laptop bags slung over their shoulders, and I wondered if they went anywhere without a computer.

“So,” Tick asked (and somehow, I already could tell them apart—maybe it was the Binding, maybe it was Seven’s story, I don’t know), “what were you planning on doing once you got here?”

“You can’t just walk in and out of the Station,” Tock said. “It’s like, nigh impossible.”

“Way nigh,” Tick agreed. “Like über nigh.”

“I think he gets it,” Tock said, rolling his eyes.

I shook my head. “I guess I didn’t really think about that part,” I said begrudgingly. “How are we going to get out of here?”

“Garage,” the Clock Twins said in unison as they shoved me back into the elevator. We rode down three more floors while the twins argued about which car they wanted to take. Tick wanted to take the Jeep, but Tock wanted to take something flashier and recommended the Mercedes. Tick reminded him that Seven had warned them that under no circumstances were they to drive the Mercedes because of what happened to the Toyota. I didn’t want to know what happened to the Toyota. They agreed on the nondescript SUV we’d been in earlier.

“Wait here,” Tock said, shoving me into a dark corner of the garage before they both walked over to a man sitting behind a desk, a large wall of keys behind him. The garage itself was huge, with at least four hundred cars stored below the Station. I saw three gas pumps near the exit, and metal covers that sealed shafts leading to underground gas tanks. How the hell do they get all this stuff here? I wondered. You would never have to leave, if you didn’t want to.

And yet, here you are, the voice reminded me. I shoved it away.

“Billy! My main man!” Tick said to the man behind the desk. “How’s it hanging?”

“You guys are down here late,” Billy said suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“We’ve got Guardian business,” Tock said, sounding bored. “Boss man wants us to head into the city to follow up on some leads.”

“I thought Felix was already here.”

Tick shrugged. “He is. Probably asleep upstairs right now, where he should be. He’s definitely not waiting in the corner over there wanting to leave the Sta—”

“What my brother is trying to say,” Tock interrupted as I ground my teeth together, “is that the boss man has us making sure there was nothing we missed at Felix’s old digs.”

“Exactly what I was trying to say,” Tick agreed.

“And this can’t wait until morning?”

“Early to bed, early to rise, I always say,” Tock said.

“He does always say that,” Tick told Billy. “It’s annoying. It’s, like, his mantra.”

Billy leaned forward. “What’s he like?” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Who?” Tock asked, looking confused.

“Felix. The Split One. I heard he came in this afternoon shooting fire and wind from his hands and told the Council to shove it.”

“Uh, not quite,” Tick said. “He kind of waved to everyone and went upstairs.”

“Oh,” Billy said, sounding disappointed. I felt bad that I hadn’t come into the Station shooting fire and wind and telling the Council to shove it.

“We’ll just take the Mercedes and we’ll get out of your hair,” Tock said, feigning interest in his fingernails.

“Oh no you won’t,” Billy said with a grimace. “After what happened to the Toyota, Seven says you aren’t allowed to drive a vehicle again worth more than fifteen grand.”

“What!” the Clock Twins said, sounding shocked.

“Billy! How are we supposed to pick up chicks in a crapmobile?” Tock groaned.

“Or maybe we’ll want dudes now that Felix is here,” Tick moaned. “He’ll work some awesome gay mojo, and we’ll want to go pick up dudes and we’ll be in a shitty car? Come on, Billy, show us some mercy.”

Billy eyed them both. “So you’re not going out on a mission, you’re going to pick up chicks?” He paused. Then, “Or dudes?”

“Just gives us the damn Ford we had earlier today,” Tick grumbled. “And just watch us be alone forever.”

“I can’t believe you’d make me be stuck with Tick for the rest of my life,” Tock said sadly. “This is not going to be a good day.”

Billy rolled his eyes and had Tock sign the vehicle out on an electronic tablet. He dropped the keys into Tick’s hands. “Don’t go having too much sex now, you hear?”

“No class,” Tick said, scowling.

“None at all,” Tock agreed as he sighed.

The Clock Twins turned away from Billy, who went back to whatever one does in a parking garage in the middle of the night. Tock turned to me discreetly and motioned for me to follow them but to stay in the shadows. The cloak-and-dagger bullshit made me want to groan, but I knew Seven would be called down to the garage if I was seen, and I would never get out. I walked along the wall, trying to stay in the shadows, but then I saw there was no point as there seemed to be a camera every five feet. I grumbled at the Clock Twins, who then showed me a blank looping feed they had run over the cameras, showing an empty garage for at least another five minutes. I told them that was neat. They looked at me like I was God.

They shoved me in the back of the SUV and made me lay on the floor between the seats. They proceeded to cover me with a blanket and set their bags on top of me to hide me. I told them that was stupid. They said it was genius. I felt the vehicle start up and rumble as it echoed through the garage. We hit an incline and started upward, and then one of the laptop cases tipped over and fell on my face. The other bag fell on my nuts. I hated the Clock Twins for a couple of seconds, but that was replaced by dismay when they stopped and rolled down the window at the gate.

“Oh crap,” Tick said.

“Why the hell is he still on duty?” Tock asked.

“You don’t think boss man knows—”

“No, and keep your voice down. Hey, Chuck! How goes it?”

Fuck.

“What’re you boys doing out so early?” Chuck asked, his voice booming.

“Oh, just having something to do for the boss,” Tock said evenly. “Kind of top secret, under the radar, espionage kind of stuff.”

“We’re spies,” Tick said. “If only we had a better car.”

“Seven is sending you out, huh?” Chuck asked dryly, and I knew we were screwed.

“Yes, sir,” The twins agreed.

“Does he know you have Felix under the blanket in the back?”

The Clock Twins groaned as I struggled to sit up, knocking their bags off of me. Chuck watched me, a wry expression on his kind face. I rolled my eyes at the twins as they started claiming innocence, that I had kidnapped them with my dual powers to help escape the clutches of Seven’s mighty libido and wouldn’t Chuck help them, wouldn’t he just save them from me? I smacked them both across the back of the head. Idiots.

“Hey, Chuck,” I sighed.

“Felix.” He nodded in greeting. “Going somewhere?”

I shrugged. “Got things to do.”

“And what does Seven think about that?”

I gave him the best aw-shucks grin I could muster. “The big guy’s totally cool with it.”

Chuck barely suppressed his grin. “Is that so? So if I were to tell you to just hold on a second while I called up to him, he’d tell me that everything was fine?”

“Probably. But by then I’d have already had Tock ram the gate, and then there’d be that whole mess to have to deal with, and that would just be lame.”

The Clock Twins shook their heads.

Chuck’s eyes sparkled. “Ram the gate, huh? Ram that titanium-reinforced gate? That gate that’s built to withstand a 9.0 earthquake? Maybe I’ll just back off for a moment and let you guys try. Tick and Tock should know better, but then they’re driving you out of the Station without Seven’s knowledge, so I’m questioning their intelligence at the moment.” He glanced up at the twins. “What you boys think?”

“Why are you still on duty?” I said crossly. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

He laughed. “I’m an old man, Felix. I don’t need much sleep.”

“Chuck, I gotta go, man. Just for a little while.”

He nodded slowly. “Where are you going?”

I sighed. “To see my friend Jason. I’m worried about him.”

“Is that so? And is that the only reason you’re going?”

“Kammy is in their room,” Tock stage whispered. The traitor.

Chuck’s eyes widened before he turned sternly to me. “You aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking, right?”

“I would say no, but I think that whole Obligatorius thing really screwed up my chances to lie to you.” Stupid Binding Latin bullshit.

“Felix, Seven has been waiting for you his whole life,” Chuck said, his jaw set. “You may not know a whole lot about him yet, but I do. I’ve watched that boy grow up into the man he is today. And nobody forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. If he wants to be with you, then he will be.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I asked morosely. I hated the way my voice sounded, the way my words sounded like sludge being dredged up from the seabed. I knew this, I knew he wanted to be with me, I knew he thought I was his. But it still didn’t help that he was upstairs in our house with her, the woman who’d had him long before I knew even what that meant. They had history; all we had were genetics. Who could fight that?

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Chuck said, not unkindly. “I’ll give you a ten-minute head start as long as I’ve got your promise that you will come back.”

I shrugged, not wanting to commit. I was such an asshole.

His eyes softened, and his voice caused me to ache. “Felix, it’s not just Seven that needs you. In case you couldn’t tell, we all need you. And even better, we want you here. It’s not just Seven who’s been waiting for you all these years. Whether you know it or not, you give the people in this Station hope. It’s something they haven’t had for a long time. With you, we know that things have a chance of being okay. Without you… we’re all lost.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the force of his words bouncing around deftly in my skull. Who were all these people who needed me? They didn’t even know me from the guy walking down the street. I couldn’t even save myself; how in the hell was I going to help all of them? And it dawned on me then (and I felt anger at myself for getting distracted, for falling into his arms like it was all I needed, like it was all I knew), it dawned on me that I had never even asked what I was supposed to be fighting against. Who was the Scarred King, and what did he want with me? What did he want with the people of this Station? They, like Seven (like me), had been led to believe I was a savior of sorts, and I resented the hell out of being put in that position.

But you’re there anyway, it whispered. It’s not going to go away. Better get used to it, kiddo. At least now you’re on an even footing of sorts. At least now you can ask the questions that need answers. You’re getting closer, even if you’re crawling.

“Ten minutes?” I asked.

Chuck shook his head. “You know I can’t even promise you that, not if Seven finds out quicker.” He pointed at the Clock Twins. “And you know you boys are going to catch holy hell when he finds you.”

They hung their heads.

“Guys, just get out of the car,” I sighed. “I can go by myself. I don’t want you getting in trouble for something I’m doing.”

“Like hell,” Tick snapped. “Between going with you or letting you go by yourself, which do you think he’s going to kill us more for?”

“I choose the lesser of two evils,” Tock said. “At least then you can say you had the big bad Tick and Tock with you.” He looked over at his brother. “He’s still going to kill us,” he whispered.

Tick shrugged. “What can you do?”

“You’ll come back?” Chuck insisted.

I smiled tiredly at him. “I think I’m going to get dragged back. You know that as well as I do.”

He laughed again. “Yup. And you better watch your asses, because the boss man is going to come after me too. At least if you’re safe, he’ll soften the blows.”

“You think he’s going to hit us?” Tick asked, horrified.

“Oh, please,” Tock scoffed, “he wouldn’t do that.” He was silent for a moment. Then, “Right?”

“We’re dealing with a whole new Seven now, I think,” the old man teased. “I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

“Jesus, Chuck! You’re going to scare the shit out of them!” I patted the Clock Twins on the arms. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “I’ll take care of the big guy.” I hope.

They looked at me like I was a liar.

Chuck typed a password onto his computer, and the gate started to rise. “Remember, you get five minutes!” he called over the clacking of the track.

“You said ten!”

He grinned. “You spent five minutes convincing me.”

I glared at him. “I know where you live,” I threatened.

He eyed me seriously. “And you better not forget it.”

I hate it when people get the last word.

IT TOOK three minutes and thirty-two seconds before the cell phone I cadged from Seven began to blow up. I know this because I counted.

“What’s that number?” I asked, showing the screen to the twins.

“That’s the number from the phone on Seven’s floor,” Tock said, a sick grin on his face.

“How many rings do I get before it goes to voicemail?” I wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as I could.

“Like, six,” Tick said.

Three… four… five… six…. “Seven!” I said cheerfully.

“There had better be a good reason why you’re not in our room,” he said. His voice was harsh and heavy. He was not amused.

“Did you check the bathroom?” I asked. The twins laughed. I glared at them.

“If that’s the boys I hear and if that’s a car I hear, your world is going to end,” he snapped.

I felt mean. “Is Kammy still there?” I asked. The twins didn’t think that was funny.

“I’m not playing games,” he snarled. “Get your fucking ass back here now!”

“I have a better idea,” I told him. “I think that you can’t tell me what to do and that I’m not your goddamn prisoner.”

“Felix, I told you that you’re never leaving—”

“Your sight again, I know. I know! Don’t you think I know that?”

“Then why?”

“Why was she in our house? Why was the door shut?”

“I didn’t want to wake you!”

“I woke up anyways,” I retorted.

“Tell me where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“No.” I hung up the phone and turned it off.

“You are so dead,” Tock whispered.

“And then he’s going to murder us,” Tick moaned.

Fucking drama queens. “Give me your phones!” I barked.

They didn’t hesitate. As soon as they handed them over, one began to ring. “What!” I shouted into it.

“Felix,” Seven breathed.

“What!”

“Tell me where you are.”

“No.”

“Where are you going?”

I smiled. The big guy didn’t give up. “Into the City,” I allowed.

“Where?”

“I have Tick and Tock with me,” I said. “I’ll be fine.” The Clock Twins glared at me. I glared right back.

“I’m glad you have them. You still need me. Where are you going?”

“Is Kammy still there?”

He sighed. “No. I made her leave.”

“Why was she there?”

“She just… had some things to get off her chest.”

“Oh, yeah? How’d that go?”

“Stop trying to distract me,” he growled.

“Bye,” I said and hung up the phone. “Drive faster,” I ordered as I turned it off. The last phone rang. “Hello?”

Seven was seething. “She wanted for me to push you away, to go back with her.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

“I told her it will never happen.”

“Never say never, big guy. You don’t know what the future holds.”

“Yes, I do. You are my future. You are my heart. Or did you not get any of that when I spilled everything to you!” His voice rose at the end until he was shouting.

“Well, not everything.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Did you love her?” I felt my heart beat faster, felt his angry breath in my ear.

“No.” There was no hesitation.

Oh God, Felix, shut up! “Oh. Why not?”

“Because she wasn’t made for me.”

“And I was?”

“Yes.” There was a slamming of a door, and then I heard a car start over the phone.

“Going somewhere?” I teased him.

“This will all go easier on you if you pull over right now. If I have to chase you, you’re going to see what I’m like when I’m truly angry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“That’s kind of hot.”

“Felix,” he growled.

“You didn’t tell me everything.”

“What?” he said, annoyed. I could hear the engine revving, and I grinned.

“What’s your last name?”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s what you want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s Fortis.”

“More Latin?”

“It means strong one.”

I nodded, wondering where the single tear came from. “It fits,” I said, my voice wavering.

He heard it. “Felix, please. I need you. Where are you?”

“I was going to come back,” I said, suddenly needing him to understand that, wanting him to know because it was true, even if I’d just decided it right then. I would have gone back.

“Were you?” he asked, and that doubt crept back into his voice, the little boy hidden underneath the hard outer shell peeking out behind his fortress. “You were gone when I got back and….”

“I’m sorry.” And I was.

“Pull over.”

“I can’t. I have to make sure he’s safe.”

“Who?” he demanded. “Who the hell are you… Jason? Are you talking about Jason? Felix, honey, I told you I had people watching him—”

I shuddered at the endearment. Twice in one day. “I know you did. I need to see him for myself.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me! I would have taken you to see him!”

“You were a little busy,” I reminded him.

His anger began to rise again. “Give the phone to Tock.”

“No.”

“Felix!”

“What!”

“Don’t you understand that they’re expecting this? This is exactly what they want you to do!”

“Who?” I asked, my voice deadly calm.

“You know who!”

“The Scarred King.”

“Yes,” he said. I didn’t miss the shudder in his voice.

“Seven?”

“What?”

“Who is the Scarred King?”

He was stunned. I heard him breathing. “Oh, Felix,” he whispered.

And then it poured from me, like a memory, like a dream: “Promised to the heart of his desire and fate,” I snapped at him. “The Scarred King stares in wonder.”

“Oh, Jesus, where did you—”

“The light of the Animo Dimidio too late to stop the world from tearing asunder.”

“Felix, just listen to me!”

The twins watched me with ashen eyes.

“Half over Half the darkness sleeps as the power of Ventis and Ignis unfurl.”

“No,” Seven moaned.

I couldn’t stop. I had to finish: “And to silence the cries of those who weep? The Bringer of Darkness, the Destroyer of Worlds.”

“Felix,” he said, and it was like a death knell.

“Is that me?” I asked, my hands shaking. “Is that about me!”

“No!” he shouted angrily. “It will never be about you!”

“I’m scared, Seven.”

“I know, honey. I know. Please just pull over and let me come to you. We’ll go see Jason together. I promise you we’ll go see him together and everything will be fine.”

“We’re ahead of you,” I told him. “I’m not stopping for you to catch up with us. If you want to meet me there, that’s fine. I’m going to Jason, Seven, and not even you can stop me.”

I hung up the phone. “Drive faster,” I snarled.

Tock did just that.

I GAVE them directions to shortcuts to Jason’s apartments, shortcuts I was sure Seven knew nothing about. It would allow me ten minutes more, at most. I watched the City pass me by out the window, a city that up until this morning had been my home. Now the alleys and streets looked dark and foreboding, each person capable of great evil. It was a different place, a strange place. I didn’t think it could ever be my home again.

I was also grappling with the fact that apparently Seven knew the Flaming Subway Poem, but that didn’t surprise me as much as I’d thought it would. There were points during the story that Seven had told me where I felt he wasn’t being completely truthful about some of the events. At the very least, he glossed over details that he felt I wasn’t ready to hear. I thought about questioning Tick and Tock but I didn’t want to drag them into this more than they already were.

But it seemed the Clock Twins had other ideas.

They had been whispering back and forth ever since I hung up on Seven, their voices punctuated by large amounts of finger pointing and chest stabbing. When I finally came around to my senses, I heard Tick say, “So you tell him!”

“No!” Tock whispered harshly. “It was your idea!”

“Yeah, but you heard him on the phone, he knows the fucking prophecy!”

Prophecy? I thought as I rolled my eyes. This is getting more ridiculous by the second. “Spill, boys,” I muttered at them. They both jumped at the sound of my voice and glared at each other accusingly.

“Felix,” Tick said. “I don’t think we should be the ones to tell you about this.”

“It should be Seven,” Tock said quietly. “It’s not our place.”

“Fine,” I said. “Then it will be Seven’s place.”

Minutes passed. Then, “Oh for Christ’s sake,” they both said at the same time. It was uncanny.

“Years before Seven was born, there was an old woman who died somewhere in the west,” Tick said. “It was said she was over a hundred years old and was one of the most powerful Wind Elementals who ever existed.”

“On her deathbed, she supposedly summoned the Consilium Elementorum to her side,” Tock continued. “By the time they arrived, she was blind and mostly deaf, and her body was dying out from under her.”

“The Council came to her, and she told each of the six councilmen a prophecy about themselves. Some knew when they were going to die, some knew they would be great leaders, others knew they would fall from grace,” Tick said. Streetlights flashed overhead, illuminating their tired faces.

Tock said, “Before she died, she gave one last prophecy. It told of the coming of the Findo Unum, and of a great darkness that would rise against him. She said he would be born in the latter part of the twentieth century, at a time of great upheaval for all Elementals. Once the last words came out of her mouth, she died.”

“The prophecy was kept closely guarded by the Elemental Council, and they only passed it down to the new members once their time was finished. It sucks because it was like the ultimate game of telephone. Parts were added, others dropped out completely. No one remembers the true definitive version of what was said that night,” Tick said.

Tock shook his head. “We were told only because we’re in the Guardians Circle. But that part you know, that’s the one that has been supposedly unchanged since it was first told.”

I stared at them. “And what does it mean?” I asked.

They glanced at each other before looking away. “Honestly?” Tock asked.

I nodded.

He sighed. “We don’t really know yet. We’ve gone over it again and again and again, but it doesn’t fit with what we know of the Findo Unum. The Split One has always been a force for good. We’ve never seen anything about one going all dark side.”

“And it doesn’t make sense with what we know about you,” Tick added. “You’re everything we thought you’d be, and more. Felix, your abilities are unrivaled by anything known in the world. Think of it like this: if we put your powers on a scale against everyone else and ranked you, the most powerful Elementals, like Edna or Dan, would be at most a five or a six.”

“Edna may even be a little higher,” Tock said. “That lady’s got some moves.”

“And what would that make me?” I asked uneasily. “The top of the scale? A ten?”

The Clock Twins glanced at each other again. Tock spoke for both of them. “No, Felix. This is a scale from one to a hundred. And you would be one hundred.”

I gaped at them.

“And the woman who gave the prophecy?” Tick said quietly, as if he dreaded his words. “Her name was Agnes Paracel. We think she was your great-grandmother.”

I closed my eyes and fell.

I SHOULD have known something was going to go wrong the moment we got to my former apartment building. The vents in the vehicle began to let in an acrid burnt air as we drove down the street. Tick reached up and turned the blower off and glanced at his brother. Tock’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as he turned the corner.

What struck me first was all the yellow tape that cordoned off the sidewalks surrounding the building. Apparently the drama was long over, as the usual gawkers had dispersed and the fire personnel were gone. I looked up toward my old apartment and saw the window had been blown out, the brick around it shattered and scorched black. They had come for me, I thought; or maybe they simply wanted to send a message. Whoever they were. The Scarred King, his people, I didn’t know. All I know is that as we drove past my former home, which looked dead and charred, the desire to wrap myself in Seven was almost as great as my desire to make sure Jason was safe.

“Can I have my phone back?” Tock said quietly. “I need to call the boss and let him know about this.”

I nodded mutely, handing over his phone.

I didn’t hear his fervently whispered words. I didn’t notice him handing the phone back to me until he called my name three or four times. I felt lost. Hidden. Unreal. “Hello?” I said.

“Felix,” he said.

“I gotta get to Jason.”

“I know, little man. I know. Can you promise to wait for me until I get there?”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I’m not asking you,” he said thickly, “I’m begging you.”

“What about your people?”

“What?”

“Your people. You said you had guys on him. When was the last time you heard from them?”

He paused. Then, “Earlier today.”

“My apartment was torched right around the block and they didn’t see anything? They didn’t call you?”

He sighed. “Shit. Felix, I’ve got Otis, Dan, Amy, and Edna following up behind me. Do not go into Jason’s house until I get there.”

“I have to, big guy. I gotta make sure he’s okay.”

“And I have to make sure you’re okay!” Seven suddenly shouted, enraged. “I will never forgive you if you do something stupid!”

“Seven?”

“What!”

“I was going to come back. You know, to the Station.” He had to believe me.

“I know,” he muttered. I think he told the truth. “Take Tick and Tock up with you. But I mean it, if something feels even remotely off to you, you get out. Do you hear me?”

I smiled, strained but there. “I hear you, big guy. Just hurry, okay?”

“I’ll be right there,” he said, and then he was gone.

Which was fine, because we pulled into a parking space near Jase’s building. I resisted the urge to jump out of the vehicle and take off running, but just barely. The windows of the building were mostly dark, but then it was only a little after four in the morning. It was cold outside and misty, but no snow fell. Dirty snow lined the empty streets, shoved off to the side by an early-morning plow. The street lights had halos in the fog, muffled and weak. I could hear the engine ticking as it cooled down. I could feel the cold seeping in through the doors now that the heaters were off. Everything was still, quiet. It felt wrong.

“Where are the people who are watching Jase?” I asked in a low voice.

Tock pointed to an unremarkable sedan on the opposite side of the street. It was dark, and the windows looked frosted over.

“Are they supposed to be in the car?”

“Yeah,” Tick whispered. “But they couldn’t see out the windows if they were. They look frozen.”

“Maybe we should wait for Seven,” Tock said nervously, but I had already opened the door.

The snow and gravel crunched under my feet as I walked slowly across the street. It was loud, echoing around the buildings, the fog carrying it and dampening it at the same time. I heard Tick and Tock grumbling as they got out of the SUV and hurried to catch up with me. They stood on either side of me, their eyes and faces darting around, looking down alleyways, up on fire escapes. They were trained and trained well. We reached the vehicle, and I brushed my hand over the window, attempting to scrape away the ice that had accumulated on the glass. I leaned forward and cupped my eyes to see into the vehicle, but the inside of the car was murky and dark. I couldn’t see anything past my own reflection.

“Fuck this,” I muttered and reached out to pull the door open. The handle stuck for a moment, frozen down, but I applied heat and felt it warm in my hands. The ice dripped off and water sluiced down the side of the vehicle. I pulled on the door again and it opened wide. I wished it hadn’t.

The interior of the car was a solid block of ice, frozen neatly and completely. I gasped and took a step back, horrified that I could see the vague outline of a leg and hand through the blue layers of ice. Tick roared behind me and raised his hands, and the ice instantly shattered and converted to water, which poured out of the vehicle onto the ground. The two men inside the vehicle slumped over, their eyes wide, their white skin wet and slick. Their mouths were frozen in an open scream, and I wondered how long they were aware as the water filled the vehicle and froze. How long had they stayed alive in that block of ice? Had they frozen to death or eventually suffocated? Tock reached in unnecessarily and felt for a pulse, anything. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the vehicle.

“Can you tell how long it’s been?” I shuddered.

“No,” he sighed. “There’s no way to tell since they were frozen. They would have been preserved in that ice.”

I took off at a run.

Tick and Tock shouted behind me and began the chase. I ran up the stairs at the front of Jase’s apartment building and blew out the front door with a quick blast of air. The elevator would have taken too long, so I shot up the stairs, past the third floor, the fourth, fifth, sixth, until I reached the seventh (kismet or blue-car syndrome? Seven whispered in my ear). My eyes were shot, my breathing ragged, but Jase’s door was intact. At least there was that, but then I knew it could be a lie, that I could open the door and the whole apartment would be filled with ice I would shatter with my fire, and it would melt and he would fall to the floor, his skin white and frozen, his eyes wide open and—
i love you, you know

—I would scream and scream and scream because they took him from me, the only one who’d been there for my whole life and—
oh i know

—I would make them all pay, even if I didn’t know who they were. I would hunt them all down and burn the skin from their bones, and then I would go after their husbands and wives and their children and their friends and the friends of the friends, and I would burn them all to the ground. I would take from them if they took from me.

Somehow, I forced myself to knock on the door. Loudly.

Then again.

Then I almost tore it down.

I was about to blast it off its hinges when it swung wide open and Jason stood before me, looking exhausted but alive in his sweats and a white T-shirt, and his face stuttered and scrunched up when he saw me, but I had already launched myself at him. It had only been a couple of days since I’d seen him last, but with everything that’d happened, it felt like a lifetime. He caught me as I crashed into him, and I sobbed and babbled in his ear, petting his hair all the while, looking for any signs that he’d been hurt (because I still wanted to burn them all), any signs of nicks or cuts or gashes or scrapes. He just kept nodding at me with watery eyes, not understanding a single thing I was saying, but knowing I just needed him to agree with me, anyway. His gaze flickered behind me, and I knew Tick and Tock were standing in the doorway, watching me go crazy, but I didn’t care. Jason was alive, and that was all that mattered.

He carried me from the doorway, my legs still circled around his waist, and sat me down on the couch beside him. I refused to let go of his arm, feeling my fingers dig into the skin that was warm and alive underneath my hand. “Addy, just breathe,” he said quietly. “Just take a deep breath and let it out.” He reached over and tugged gently, and it was so familiar, so much like him, that it threatened to set me off all over again. I closed my eyes and did as he asked.

“I was scared,” I said tearfully.

His eyes softened. “About what?”

“That they’d gotten to you too. That you would be frozen and dead, and I would have gone insane.” I watched his face, taking him in, only then able to realize just how terrified I’d truly been. What if I hadn’t decided to come see him tonight? What if it had been days before I got out of the Station?

He shook his head. “Addy, you’re not making any sense. Where have you been? I’ve been worried fucking sick about you. Who’re they?” he asked, jerking his head toward the Clock Twins.

“Tick and Tock,” I said. “They do tech.”

“Alliteration is never amusing,” Tick muttered.

“Not even in humorous situations,” Tock said.

“And this isn’t funny,” Tick said.

“It is kind of touching, though. Do you see how big Jason is?” Tock whispered.

“Seriously. Is this how it’s going to be with all the guys? I’m going to start developing a complex about our heights,” Tick groaned.

“I already have.”

“They go on like this for days,” I warned Jason.

“We do not,” the Clock Twins said, scowling together.

“Tech?” Jason asked, confused.

“Technology,” Tick said slowly. He glanced at his brother. “Wanna bet he’s just like the boss man? I think their size shrinks their brains.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Tock agreed. “I would still like to be big, though.”

Jason eyed them suspiciously before turning back to stare at me. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes darting over the cuts on my face caused by the glass from the Cantio Building. “Where have you been?”

I looked down at my hands nervously. “You’re still gonna be my best friend, even if I have to tell you something about me you may not like, right?”

He watched me for a moment, calculating. “Addy, you can tell me anything, you know that.” His eyes narrowed. “It has to do with what happened at your work, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but not like you think. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

Then a roar come from outside, echoing up the sides of the building. Tick walked over to the window and looked down. “And it’s about to get a lot more complicated,” he said. “Boss man just pulled up.”

“Oh, shit, I am so dead,” I groaned.

“Serious dead man walking,” Tock agreed. “There’s going to be no end to what he does to you.”

“Maybe he’ll take the elevator and it’ll get stuck,” I said hopefully.

Tick cocked his head. “Nope. I can hear him pounding stairs.”

“Don’t shoot him,” I told Jason.

“Shoot who?” he asked, already getting up to find his gun.

“Don’t let Jason shoot him!” I implored the Clock Twins.

They stared at me like I was already gone. “I’ll miss you so much,” Tick murmured. “I don’t know how I will go on.”

“We only just got you with us,” Tock sighed.

“Oh, knock it off,” I snapped at them.

“You got about six seconds,” Tick said. “Any last words?”

“I got my gun!” Jason said, running back to the living room.

“Don’t shoot him!” I shouted, and then he filled the doorway.

Seven was a study in molten anger: his eyes blazing an ocean storm like I’d not yet seen, his jaw clenched as his teeth ground together. His forehead was furrowed, his hands in fists clenched to his side. His skin looked alive as it twitched and roiled angrily across his body. His stance was combative and dangerously livid. His eyes darted around the room, cataloguing each face, our positions in the room, and any exits we could take. I heard the Clock Twins gasp and shrink back slowly away from him. Jason halfheartedly raised his gun, but I shook my head and pushed his arm down. Seven finally looked at me.

“Come here,” he said. It was not a suggestion.

I cocked my head at him. “You mad?”

“Extremely. Come. Here.”

“Uh, Addy, I don’t know if that’s a good—” Jason started.

I shook my head at him again. “If you want to live, don’t speak,” I whispered to him. His eyes widened, and he glared at the big guy who only had eyes for me.

“Felix!” Seven bellowed. “Get your ass over here! Now!”

I walked slowly over toward Seven, not wanting to spook his inner cornered animal, which was causing his nose to flare, his eyes to go wild. I reached him and kept my arms at my side, staring back at him, waiting for him to move. The storm in his eyes was much more severe than I’d first thought, and I wondered again if he was either going to fuck me or kill me. It looked like both. I thought about making it a game to see who could go the longest without speaking, but I could see the fear pulsing under his righteous anger and I couldn’t do that to him. He didn’t deserve it.

My face felt stiff as I smiled at him. “I had to come,” I told him quietly. “He’s part of my family, and I had to make sure he was safe.”

“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth, “that you were my family, that you were never to leave my side again.” He was trying to maintain his composure, but I could see the cracks widening in his façade, his cheek twitching, the storm in his eyes crashing.

“Hey,” I said, reaching up to touch his face, ignoring the way he flinched. My fingers disappeared into the beard on his chin, and I tugged gently. “That’s not always going to be realistic.”

“Oh it will be,” he snarled, capturing my hand. “Not only is it realistic, it will be done, it will be so, and it is the way things will be.”

“You’re a caveman,” I teased him gently.

His eyes flashed. “I’m not playing around, Felix.”

I sighed and did the only thing I could: I fell against him, molding myself to his already familiar shape, feeling relief when his arms came down around me, pulling me tightly against him. My chin hit his arms, and I blinked back tears. I wanted to go home and go to sleep. Today had been way too long of a day. He felt me tremble against him, and he reached down to my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Never again,” he growled at me. “You will listen to me from now on.” I nodded blindly against him, and he bent his head and gave me a searing kiss, his anger drenching my lips as he rumbled against my mouth. I felt hot and bothered, scared and worked up beyond anything I’d known before.

He pulled away and started to check me over. “Are you okay?” he asked me roughly, a contradiction to the gentle movements of his hands.

“I’m fine,” I sniffled. “I’m sorry about your friends downstairs.”

“Me too,” he said, satisfied that all my bits and parts still seemed to be attached. “Did you see anything? Or anyone?”

I shook my head. “It was quiet when we got here. They were… frozen in the car. Tick destroyed the ice.”

Seven glared at the Clock Twins, who found very interesting things to stare at on the ceiling. “Come here,” he ordered.

I watched, amused as they obeyed immediately, not even talking back as they seemed prone to do. They stood before us as Seven checked them out for himself. “Are you boys okay?” he rumbled at them.

They nodded.

“You realize you’re grounded forever, right?”

They nodded, eyes cast down.

I rolled my eyes. “No, you’re not,” I told them. “The big guy here’s just letting off some steam.”

They looked up at me with pure love and adoration.

Seven, however, did not. “Excuse me?” he scowled. “Should we start in on your punishment?”

“It sounds dirty when you say it all deep and growly like that,” I told him. “You’re not helping your cause very much.”

“You just wait till I get you home,” he warned me, his eyes flashing again. “You won’t be able to sit down for a fucking month.”

“Ew,” Tick said. “You’re so predatory, it’s disturbing.”

“Totally,” Tick grimaced. “Felix is not just some sexual object here to satisfy your unholy lust.”

“Addy, what the hell is going on?” Jason snapped at me from across the room. “Why do they keep calling you Felix? Who the fuck are these people?”

We all looked over at him. Jason stood on the other side of the living room, his body tense, his service pistol in his hand at his side. I started forward, but Seven grabbed me by the arm and shook his head as he held me back. He stepped in front of me and walked toward Jason, his posture rigid and stiff. I watched as they glared at each other, sizing each other up. I knew that Seven was bigger, but Jason was scrappy. Both had guns, and I didn’t want this to turn into a pissing match. Stupid, stupid boys.

“My name is Seven Fortis,” he growled. “And I am the Iuratum Cor to Felix Paracel.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Jason growled right back. That was funny to me for some reason, and I snorted with laughter. They both turned and frowned at me, admonishing the child who dared interrupt the grown-ups when they were speaking. I rolled my eyes at them. They resumed their macho man contest.

“I don’t care who you are,” Jason said. “What the fuck are you doing with Addy?”

“He is mine to do what I wish with him,” Seven ground out.

“Obviously you don’t know him very well if you think so.”

Seven snapped back to me. “Is he always this frustrating?”

I shrugged. “He’s my best friend and has put up with me for years, so yeah, probably.”

Seven sighed and turned back to Jason. “I don’t want to do this here,” he told Jason. “Pack up the things you need and we’ll talk about this back at the Station.”

Jason laughed. “Like hell. The station? You a cop too? What precinct you in?”

“He means the Portandum Station,” Tick said.

“For trains, not police,” Tock added helpfully.

“Addy, is this some kind of joke? If it is, I don’t get it.”

I shook my head slowly. “It’s not, Jase. We gotta get out of here.”

His eyes narrowed. “Look, whatever you got yourself mixed up in, you have to let me help you. Is it drugs? Money? Tell me, so I can help you.”

Seven looked insulted. “Drugs?” he barked. “He doesn’t do drugs! And I have money. If he needed it, he would just come to me!”

Jason watched him warily. Then he asked the most ridiculous question of his life in a soft, quiet voice: “Is he your pimp, Addy?”

There was a beat of silence: my jaw was dropped, Seven about to jump all over Jason, the Clock Twins about to burst. Then it all let out at once.

“He’s not a whore!” Seven bellowed.

“Do I look like a prostitute to you?” I scowled as I glared at Jason.

“Ahahahahahah!” the twins laughed, bending over and holding their sides.

“How the hell am I supposed to know!” Jason shouted.

Over the voices, I heard a phone ring. Seven harrumphed and pulled it out of his pocket. “What!” he snapped into it. His eyes widened and he turned to me and started running. “Get down!” he roared.

The windows along the apartment wall imploded, glass flying in arcing shards across the room. Brick and mortar and dust filled the air. I was knocked off my feet and thrown against the sofa that lined the back wall. The twins landed on their backs near the door. Seven was mid-jump and reaching for me when the blast threw him across the room. Jason was hurled toward his kitchen, his gun falling from his hands. Cold air spilled into the apartment, and I sat up dazed, wondering where the wall had gone. Had it always been completely open to the street like that? I shook my head and felt it rattle. Seven groaned my name, and I snapped back to reality.

I ignored the ache in my ribs as I jumped to my feet, needing to get to him, needing to find my heart sworn. I heard shouts coming from the street below, the voices drifting up into the twenty-foot section of co-op apartment housing that had been ripped off from the building. I saw Seven staggering to his feet, his face covered in dust, a wicked shard of glass jutting from his side. He gasped as he pulled it out before I could stop him. It hadn’t gone in that deep, and the blood was only oozing between his fingers, but his face was pale and I was angry.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, rubbing a bloody finger along my face.

“What happened?” I spat.

“It’s a trap. Otis found them waiting for us.”

“We’ve got to stop them before someone gets hurt!”

Seven snapped his head from side to side. “We’ve got to get you out of here!” he snarled. “This was meant for you! You’re going to get the fuck out of here and let us deal with this!”

I took a step back as I shook my head. “I won’t run from this, Seven. I won’t leave you here to fight for me. You or anyone else.”

His eyes hardened, and he staggered to me as an explosion racked the air behind us. He grabbed me and kissed me deeply, and I put everything I had back into it. It was sweet and rough, and I felt something surge in me then, something that came from him to me, and the flare burst inside me, and I felt powerful and alive. If this was what he did for me as my Iuratum Cor, then I would destroy those who were against us. I forced myself to pull away.

“Tick! Tock!” I thundered. “To me!” The Clock Twins rose instantly to their feet, shaking the cobwebs from their minds. They followed behind us as we approached the edge of the building. Vertigo threatened to cloud my mind, but I pushed it away.

Below us, I could see Otis, Dan, Amy, and Edna fighting off six or seven other people, all of them darkly clothed, armbands with a red stripe that ran down the middle clearly visible. I saw people in apartments across the way hurry from their windows, the few people on the streets running in fear. Edna let loose a burst of fire, but it was doused by a flash from an Elemental, who created a wall of water stolen from a geyser that erupted where a fire hydrant used to be. Otis was shouting as he alternated between his Desert Eagle and the fire from his hands. Amy ran zigzag toward a Fire Elemental who couldn’t seem to pin her down. She was six feet away from him when she jumped into the air to an impossible height, landing on the shoulders of the Elemental. Her legs wrapped around his neck and she fell backward, twisting her body as she fell. The Elemental lost his footing and was flipped head over heels. I almost screamed out in warning as a huge Earth Elemental threw a section of pavement at Dan, but he pushed his hands toward the ground, blasting up into the air and flipping gracefully over the section of road as it flew underneath him. He landed on his feet and exacted his revenge when he flung the man fifty feet in the air and let him smack down on the top of a car, the roof buckling under the weight, the windows exploding outward.

“The cops will be here soon,” Tock said next to me.

Tick grinned. “Then we’ll have to make this quick.”

“Felix, you stick with me,” Seven said, grabbing my arm.

I shook my head. “You need to get Jason downstairs. We can’t leave him alone up here.”

Seven scowled. “Not going to happen.”

“I can take care of myself!” Jason said, his eyes wide as he looked down below at the battle occurring on his street. “Is that Amy?”

“Trust me on this!” I snapped at Seven, who was about to refuse again. He watched me for a moment before sighing and stepping back. I pecked a quick kiss to his lips before turning to the Clock Twins. “Plan B?” I grinned at them.

Their eyes sparkled as their mouths twitched. “You gonna scream the whole way down this time?” Tock asked.

“I don’t think that will scare the bad guys away again,” Tick said.

“We should probably show him how to make a real entrance,” Tock told his brother.

“Earth first,” Tick said, bowing to Tock.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Tock said, stepping up toward the edge of the building. I didn’t know what to expect. I thought at the very least that I would carry them down, like I did Amy back at the Cantio Building. What I certainly didn’t expect was what happened. Tock winked at me before swan diving off the edge of the building. I reached out for him, but he had already slipped past my fingers. Instead of free falling, his feet hit the side of the building, and his talented fingers twitched, and the brick beneath his feet bulged up and molded around his calves, splitting in front of him as he surfed down the side of the building, reforming behind him as if he’d never been there at all. Dust flew up in his wake, and as he reached the bottom, he pushed off the wall and landed on his feet, already flipping the detritus around him up and at the Scarred King’s people. I watched as a brick smashed into the side of the Water Elemental’s head, blood flying and spraying the wall behind her as she collapsed.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

“That was nothing,” Tick scoffed. “Although he gets points for using the terrain.” Tick stepped up to the edge of the building. “See that fire dude down there?” he asked pointing down to a pesky Elemental who was currently pissing off Otis, causing him to roar his displeasure. The man was hidden behind a Honda that lay on its side. I nodded. “Watch this,” Tick said. He brought his hands up in the air, his palms out, and his fingers twitched and he pulled them back toward him. The water spewing from the hydrant bent toward him, raining down onto the sidewalk as it rushed in our direction. Tick grunted and snapped his left hand out, and the water formed a bridge that circled down toward the hidden Fire Elemental. Tick slapped his fingers together and the bridge snapped frozen, the ice brilliant and blue. He took three steps back, bounced on his knees once, and then took a running jump from the apartment onto the ice. It caught him, forming up around his ankles, and he began to slide down the ice chute. As he sailed toward the fight, the bridge behind him began to break off in great sections and follow his descent, spinning and whirling above his head. As he reached the frozen fire hydrant, the bridge arced up, throwing him into the air. As the ice beneath him exploded and the water geyser shot up again, Tick threw his hands forward, and the block of ice above his head, now the size of the car he was aiming for, shot through the air. It smashed into the front of the overturned Honda, flipping it end over end into the alley nearby, leaving the Fire Elemental exposed. Tick landed on his feet.

“I see you!” Otis shouted, grinning as he raised his gun. The bullet left the barrel in a spit of fire and struck the Elemental high in the chest, which collapsed in a snap of blood and bone, knocking him off his feet and tossing him back. Tick whooped before ducking as a fireball shot over his head.

“My turn,” I muttered and peered over the edge. I can do this, I thought. After falling off the Cantio Building, this is nothing. I was about to jump when Seven grabbed my arm and twirled me toward him.

“You will come back to me,” he said angrily.

I nodded and smiled. “Because you’re my home.”

“And don’t you forget it.” He bunched up my shirt as he pulled me to him for another soul-smashing kiss. I gave it a little more force than I should have, and I felt his cock harden against my stomach. I pulled away and glanced at Jason. He studied me for a moment, his mind still jumbled, but I knew the picture was getting clearer to him.

“I will explain everything I can to you,” I promised him.

“You’re name’s not Atticus, is it?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “My name is Felix Paracel,” I told him. “And you are still my best friend.”

I jumped.

I could hear Jason shout in terror behind me as I fell. The wind whipped across my face and it felt intimate, like it was my own. I knew Seven was watching me, I knew the Guardians were watching me; but even more importantly, I knew the members of the Scarred King’s group were watching me. They had chosen to fuck with my family. I was going to fuck with them.

My left hand snapped forward, and the air grew seismic, like I knew it would. My wind erupted from my hand and hurtled toward the ground. I felt it slap back into me, and the tornado grew once again. But I wasn’t merely trying to survive, like the time before. I wanted to scare the royal hell out of the people who thought they could take me, take from me. The tornado whirled up in the middle of the street, and I raised my right hand, and in my head there was a thought, a scream, a call for power—

IGNIS

—and then I brought the fire. It roared out of me and fell down into the eye of the tornado. The fire exploded outward as it smashed into the ground, the wind picking up the flames and sucking them in. The tornado caught fire from the bottom, and the conflagration spread upward toward me, and the sky and the howling winds turned orange and red, violent and alive. I sank down in the middle of it, crouching down on my knees. The firestorm raged around me as I stood. This is mine, I thought. I created this, and I can do it anytime I want.

I collapsed the tornadic fire around me, pulling it back into my hands. My left was a howling gale, my right the center of the sun. A low growl burst from my chest as I saw a black-arm-banded woman toss a chunk of cement the size a small car my way. I waved my left hand as it neared me, and the winds grabbed hold of it, catching it in its center. I snapped it around me like a whip and cracked it toward her. She tried to stop it, her hands raised, and I could feel the pull emanating from her as she tried to take the earth back. But I was too strong for her, her abilities too weak to fight against me. She jumped out of the way as it crashed to the ground where she had stood.

I heard a whistling in my right ear and felt the sting of a bullet grazing the side of my head. There was a flash of pain and then it was gone, and I turned to the man holding the gun. His hands shook as he fired again. I saw the bullet approaching, its path carving the air around it, the trajectory point somewhere above my left eye. I thought about a wall of fire, a shield in front of me, and then it became reality and the bullet entered the blaze. I saw the bullet break down from a solid shape to fragmented bits, to dust, and then nothing. The wall of fire dropped. The man’s hands started to shake even more, the gun barrel wobbling left and right. I reached down and punched the ground, knocking the air around me through the cracks and crevices of the road. I pulled my fist back and launched into an uppercut right as I knew the wind was underneath him. There was a shift, a moan, a crack, and then an air vent shattered the ground beneath him and knocked him high into the air. He flew up and then descended, screaming as he fell, and before he hit the ground I lashed out, an air blast knocking him into an alley, past the Dumpsters and into the far wall. He crumpled to the floor.

Three were left.

They convened on the far side of the street, standing in an almost perfect triangle. The tip of the triangle was a man who seemed familiar to me somehow. He cocked his head at me and tapped his gun to his forehead, the barrel glinting in the street light. He was a handsome man, if blandly so. His dark hair showed specks of gray. The lines around his mouth were grooved and deep. He looked distinguished, refined, even. But then I saw his eyes. He watched me with those gray eyes of his and it hit me—
who is the iuratum cor

—and I grinned sickly at him. He saw the recognition in my eyes and shrugged. The remaining members of his cabal stood behind him, breathing heavily, their eyes angry and narrowed. But it was him I focused on, this man who had entered my home before I knew it was my home, this man who had murdered Seven’s parents, Otis’s parents, had taken Otis’s mind from him. He had tried to take my heart from me. I was going to rip his heart from his chest.

I was aware then of Tick and Tock at my sides, Otis off to my left, Dan and Edna to my right. Amy brought up the rear. It felt strong having them there, but there was still something missing. And then Seven and Jason stumbled outside behind us, and something surged through me, a sense of infinite completeness, my soul stitched together piece by piece. Seven did nothing to stop Jason from standing with us. Jason stood behind me, his head towering over mine, and I knew he was watching the dark people across the street. Seven came beside me, and I felt a calm blow through me, the fight not leaving my body but evening out to a point where I could think rationally. We could hear sirens in the distance. It sounded like many were coming.

“You’re outnumbered,” I called out, my voice sure.

“So it would seem,” the gray-eyed man replied, his voice silky smooth. “I certainly didn’t expect to be facing the Circulus Custodum this early in the game.”

“Who are you?”

He smiled at me. “You could say I’m the right hand man of the Scarred King,” he said as he bowed, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Findo Unum. You’re quite an extraordinary fighter, especially for one who hasn’t had any formal training.”

“You pissed me off,” I reminded him.

“Did I now?” he said, his grin widening. “I would think you could control your temper, seeing as how you’re supposed to be the leader of your people.”

“I’m kind of new at this.”

He laughed. “You don’t say. Well, this has been a most amusing turn of events.” He glanced over at Seven, his gray eyes flickering. “I certainly can say it’s a shock to see you, Iuratum Cor. How funny it is that I was so easily fooled by a bunch of commoners.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Seven growled next to me.

“No,” I hissed at Seven. “You stay with me.”

“Why don’t you ask your… straggler over there,” he said, shrugging his gun toward Otis. “One would think a bullet to the brain would end a life. Maybe it was all the muscle between his ears that stopped death. Maybe it was divine intervention. But who am I to philosophize over the mysteries of life and death?”

“What’s he talking ’bout, Sevvy?” Otis asked, confused. He obviously had not recognized his would-be assassin.

I could feel the anger dripping off my man, and I gripped his arm. “Stay with me.”

“I will kill you,” Seven promised. A dark chill raced down my spine. “One day, very soon, I will look down and see the fear in your eyes as I stand above you. You will beg me for mercy. You will cry for absolution. And I will hear those words… and I will say no.” The sirens were only a few blocks away.

The gray-eyed man laughed again. “Oh my, you certainly have a way with words.” He glanced down at his watch. “As much fun as I’ve had, I’m afraid it’s time for us to leave.” His eyes narrowed. “Each of you will suffer tenfold for what you have done to my people today. I can promise you that.” Then he glanced back at me. “And as for you, Findo Unum, remember this: the Scarred King’s wrath knows no bounds. You have made a grave mistake by showing your face, and I will have the pleasure of watching the skin peeled from your bones.” Then he brought his right hand back and a burst of air flew forward, knocking a truck into the air, spinning end over end as it arced toward us. The Circle around me shouted out in warning, and I waved my hand in front of it, the blast of wind knocking it back and down the roadway. It slammed down onto the pavement, sparks flying as it skidded to a halt forty feet away. I turned back, but the gray-eyed man and the remains of his group were gone.

“It’s time to go,” Seven growled, dragging me toward our waiting car.

Chapter 8

The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.

—Marshal Ferdinand Foch

DAN and Amy took Seven’s car back to the Station, and Edna drove the car they had arrived in. Seven refused to leave my side, and Otis refused to leave his, sensing something was wrong with his friend but unable to grasp what had happened. Jason, of course, rode with us, the muscle in his jaw twitching, looking strange as he was still in his pajamas, a duffel bag of his stuff in his lap. Seven whispered to me that they had packed what they could, but Jason had gone quiet after seeing me jump off the building and land in the middle of a fiery tornado. He said this last with a trace of amusement in his voice, his eyes glinting quietly at me. I wondered if he got off on seeing my displays of power. I wondered if I got off on him getting off on it.

So we rode in silence, Jason hugging his bags, Seven hugging me, Otis watching Seven, and Tick and Tock watching the road. We managed to elude any police, and the license plates on our vehicles were registered to a dummy corporation that led nowhere so there seemed to be no pressing concern about being tracked. I looked out the window as the sun rose, thinking over everything I’d learned in the past twenty-four hours. I took what comfort I could from Seven, his strong arms around my neck and shoulders, my head resting against his chest. I thought he might have still been angry with me, but he seemed content at the moment to just hold onto me. I indulged him (knowing full well my grip on him would leave bruises).

I was content with the silence, knowing it meant no questions would need to be asked, no answers would need to be given. There were explanations to be sought, prophecies and great-grandmothers to wonder about. There was the Scarred King to think about and the gray-eyed man, who seemed to have an unrivaled hatred of me. I had so many questions I needed to ask, but that seemed minor compared to the fact that everyone I cared about in the world was either with me or safe back at the Station.

Shit. The Station.

“Won’t they come back after us?” I wondered aloud. Everyone in the car turned to stare at me. Even Tock, who was driving. I started at him until he got the picture and put his eyes back on the road. “They attacked the Station once. Won’t they try it again now that they know Seven is still alive? And that we’ve found each other?”

“They can try,” Tick said, sighing mightily. “But a lot has changed since the last time. Portandum is a veritable fortress now. We’ve got security measures that people twenty years ago couldn’t have even dreamed of.”

“That, and the security force is one of the strongest and well-trained group of Elementals in the world,” Tock said.

“And there’s turrets,” Otis said, grinning. “Big guns on the top of the building so I can shoot some bad guys!” He started imitating gunfire, jerking his body back and forth as he laughed. I grinned at him.

“And then there’s you,” Seven said quietly. “The last time we were attacked, we didn’t have you.” There was such melancholy in his voice that it caused me to lean up and kiss his cheek gently. His beard scratched my face, and I felt him smile underneath my lips.

“We’ll have to make sure everyone is careful,” I said, resting my head back on his shoulder. He reached up with his hand and began to stroke the stubble on my head. “Make sure they know what happened today, and who’s responsible.”

Seven sighed. “We’re supposed to go before the Council today. I’m sure we could discuss it with them.”

I shook my head. “I want to tell them all myself. I think it’s better that they hear it from me. If I’m supposed to help protect them, then it’s time they know I am able to do so.”

Seven smiled at me so brilliantly that my heart ached. He leaned in, and his lips grazed my ears as he whispered, “You are my heart, little man.”

I turned to him and brushed my lips against his. “I’m sorry I acted all stupid. You know, about Kammy. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I am sorry.”

I felt his breath on my skin, and I shivered as he growled at me. “And you’re not to leave my side, even if you get all stupid.”

“Ever,” I agreed, rolling my eyes. “Dumb things happen when you’re not there.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you figured that out already,” he said, looking pleased with himself.

“You mind telling what the hell is going on?” Jason said suddenly, his voice sharp. “Aside from the fact that your name is Felix and you’re an Elemental?”

“Not just an Elemental, but the Elemental,” Tick said.

“Like, the Elemental to end all Elementals,” Tock added with a smile.

“We should probably refer to him as His Holy Elemental-ness,” Tick mused aloud.

“Should we bow every time we see him?” Tock asked, scrunching up his face.

Tick shook his head. “We’re going to get bad backs because we’ll see him all the time.”

Tock’s eyes widened. “Oh, man, I didn’t think of that. It’ll feel like we’re as old as Seven by next year. That would be epically lame.”

“I’m not old!” Seven barked.

“You’re not old,” I said, patting his arm. He didn’t look reassured as he grumbled.

“Addy!” Jason snapped.

“Little man is Felix, right, Sevvy?” Otis asked.

“Absolutely right, buddy,” Seven said, smiling at his best friend.

“Let me go,” I told Seven, trying to get his huge bulky arm from around my neck.

“No,” he sneered at me, pulling me into a chokehold.

“I gotta go talk to Jase, Caveman. Let me go.”

“Talk to him from right here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Now you’re just being dumb.”

“You’re dumb,” he said as he flicked my ear.

“Oh, real mature,” I scoffed. I was happy when he kissed me hard, smashing my lips back against my teeth before letting me go. I crawled off him, hopped over the seat, and sat next to Jason, who stared at me like I’d grown a second head. I sighed. I was not looking forward to this. I glanced toward the front of the car and saw no one was even pretending not to listen in on our conversation. As a matter of fact, Otis, Seven, and Tick were all turned and facing us. I saw Tock’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

I glanced back at Jase, who was waiting for me to say something, anything to explain the past few days. I didn’t know how I was going to start, or even what to say to get me started. How do you look into the eyes of the only real friend you’ve had since childhood and let him know that the major parts they thought they knew about you were a lie? Would he believe anything that came out of my mouth? It hurt me to have him look at me with distrustful eyes, eyes that relayed the hurt he seemed to feel. I needed him to understand that even if I wasn’t Addy, I was still me, and he was still my best friend. That would never change.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “What did they mean when they said you’re the Elemental?” he asked.

“Oh, that,” I said, shrugging. “I’m apparently the only one who has two different abilities. It’s nothing, really.”

Tick and Tock snorted. I ignored them.

“I’ve never heard of an Elemental being able to control two different types,” Jase said slowly. “And you say you’re the only one? How can that be nothing?”

“Because it’s not nothing,” Seven growled.

“That was a double negative, boss,” Tick said.

“Big guys don’t need grammar,” Tock told his brother. “It’s why they have muscles.”

“Oh,” Tick said.

“It’s everything,” Seven continued. “Don’t let Felix downplay it like I know he wants to.” He turned to me and scolded me, saying, “Modesty has no place when you’re giving someone a crash course in the truth.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie,” I told him.

“You’re a fortune cookie,” he grumbled.

“Good one,” I reassured him before turning back to Jason. “Okay, Seven’s got a point, it might mean something, but I don’t want to focus on that right now. Jase, you gotta understand, I never kept any of this from you on purpose. This whole thing?” I said, pointing around the car and the people. “All of them? That just happened yesterday.”

“I remember you,” Jason said to Seven. “From the bar on Sunday. You were watching Felix.”

Seven nodded.

“Did he know you then?”

He shrugged. “Part of him did, but he wouldn’t have remembered me completely.” Seven looked back at me. “Tell him and be done with it.”

So I did. I told my best friend about killing my mother, about Seven coming to my rescue, about the necklace around my neck. I told him about the Cantio Building and the Findo Unum and Iuratum Cor. I told him all I could as quickly as I could, glossing over details that weren’t important right then. I could tell when he started to listen to me, really listen, when his eyes turned to mine, widening more and more until I was sure they would pop out of his head. He never looked disgusted at me, never looked more than a little perturbed, and I loved him for it. I knew regardless of what would happen, Jason would always hear me out. It was one of the reasons I had pulled him in close to me, had kept him around for as long as I had. He had been my sanity for so long, and I didn’t know if I could take the next steps without him. I didn’t want to.

When I finally stopped talking, I could see the Station off in the distance, silhouetted against the rising sun. My mouth felt dry, and I was tired, more tired than I had been in a while. I glanced back at my best friend and waited for a response.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, looking hurt. “I understand this”—he waved around the car—“is new, but the rest? Jesus, Addy!” He blinked. “I mean Felix.”

“I had to keep you safe,” I said. “We were in hiding, Jase. I took a chance when we were kids and let you in. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I was scared and alone and I didn’t want to be anymore.” I looked down at my hands. “This sucks, I know. But all I ever wanted was to keep you safe.”

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. “I’m a big boy,” he admonished me. “I can handle myself.”

I shrugged.

His eyes softened then, and he held me in the regard he always had, and I fought back the tears that threatened to rise. He was a good man, too good for someone like me. “I don’t care what you are,” he said as he reached out and cuffed my ear, “or what your name is. You’re still going to be that little kid who I sat with in the emergency room all those years ago. That’s not going to change, Felix.”

My eyes burned, and I smiled at him. “I love you, you know,” I managed to get out.

“Oh, I know,” he said, smiling quietly. “I love you too.”

We grinned at each other until Otis honked his nose, great big globular tears streaming down his face. “That was so nice!” he sobbed. “Sevvy, wasn’t that just nice of him?”

“It was,” Seven said, reaching out and rubbing Otis on the head. “Calm down, Otis. Everyone’s happy, okay?”

Otis nodded tearfully and attempted to smile through it. If he didn’t stop, he was going to set me off.

“So what do you want from me?” Jason asked. This question was not directed at me, but at Seven.

“I believe you have a part to play in this, whatever this may be,” Seven said, watching Jason thoughtfully. “I thought the Circulus Custodum was complete, but now I’m not so sure.”

“It’s not,” I said, certain of this. “If Jason agrees, he will be a part of it.”

“You’re only allowed to have seven, though,” Tick said. “Seven members of the circle plus the Findo Unum and the Iuratum Cor.

“It’s kind of the rules,” Tock agreed. “Although I never understood why.”

“We’ll only have seven in the Circle,” I said. They all turned to me, eyes questioning. All except Seven, who rolled his eyes and smiled quietly to himself as he stared out the window. He knew what I was going to say even before I said it. “Kammy’s out,” I said, keeping my voice even. “If the point of the Circle is to protect me, I will need it to be made up of people I trust.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that Seven used to bone her?” Tick asked. Otis reached up and smacked him upside the back of his head.

“You have a girlfriend?” Jase asked Seven suspiciously. “Are you straight?”

“She’s not my girlfr—” Seven started to protest.

“Apparently, they broke up before I came into the picture,” I reassured Jason, who looked like he was going to punch Seven in the face. “But she still seems to think she has some ownership to him.”

“She doesn’t have any ownersh—” Seven tried again.

“So he fucks chicks, and then you come along and he just drops them?” Jason growled. “Pretty convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

“Convenient? It’s not con—”

“He doesn’t seem to think labels are appropriate,” I told Jason, interrupting the big guy again. “And it wasn’t chicks, but a chick, as in singular. I’m only the second person he’s had sex with.”

“You had sex already?” Jason said incredulously. “Was he into it?”

“I’m sitting right here—”

I grinned at Jason. “Way into it. I think his mind was blown.”

“I don’t think it was just his mind that got blown,” Tock snickered.

“What do you mean?” Tick asked. “I don’t get it.”

“It means that Felix sucked his penis,” Otis said, grinning.

“Oh, I get it now,” Tick laughed. “Ha ha! Blown.”

“I will kill all of you—”

“So I don’t know if that’s a good enough reason or not,” I said, ignoring the big guy’s roar. “But I would rather have Jase in the Circle. He’s someone I’ve known practically my whole life and I know I can trust him.”

“Blown,” Tick said, snickering.

I grinned at Seven, who looked like he was about to explode. “Is that okay with you?” I asked him, rubbing the back of his head.

“You going to let me talk now?” he snapped at me.

I nodded.

“That’s fine,” he grumbled.

I cocked my head at him. “Is that it?” I teased.

“Get back up here,” he ordered, grabbing my arm and pulling me back over the seat. I landed in his lap, and he smashed me to him, his mouth near my ear. I could feel the rumble in his chest again, and it warmed me as it vibrated against my back.

“What about my job?” Jason asked quietly. “I have a job and an apartment and a life.” He paused, considering. “Okay, maybe I don’t have an apartment anymore. Am I just supposed to drop everything? What will I do about money and a place to live?”

I heard the hesitation in his voice and looked back over the seat. He watched me with uncertain eyes, and I could see the confliction naked on his face. I wasn’t going to force this issue upon him. I wasn’t going to make him do anything he didn’t want to do. But I couldn’t deny that sense of rightness I’d felt on the street below his destroyed apartment. When all of us had stood and faced the gray-eyed man, there was power there, there was no missing piece of the puzzle. The Circulus Custodum was complete, and it was because he was there too.

“You will be paid like the others are,” Seven said, glancing at me. “You’ll be making more than you do now as a cop. A lot more. You will be allowed to live at the Station, like the others, and you’ll train with all of us. That is where Felix will be, as it’s now his home.” Jason looked at me, and I shrugged. Seven growled at me, and I nodded, rolling my eyes at the big guy.

“And you just buy all of this, Addy?” His winced. “Sorry. Felix. That’s going to take a long time to get used to.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Buy all of what?”

He looked uncomfortable, but spoke regardless, pushing the words out. “What they’re saying. What you’ve been told about this whole Split One thing, about the heart sworn and everything else. It just doesn’t seem… realistic.”

“You said yourself you’ve never seen anyone with two abilities,” Seven reminded him.

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there.”

I shrugged. “Even if there are, that doesn’t mean what Seven told me isn’t true. I don’t know if I can explain it without it sounding stupid, but there is… something between him and me. Between all of us.” I glanced at Seven, who was watching me with a proud smile. It helped me to go on. “It’s like I’ve known him my whole life. Jason, you told me that it seemed like I was waiting for something to happen. Remember?”

He nodded.

“I think you were right. I was waiting for him. And he came for me. I know it seems weird, and I know you’re probably still pissed at me for not being able to tell you the truth, but please don’t ever doubt any of this.”

Jason rubbed his hands over his face. “You jumped off a building and spawned a tornado of fire that you sank down in the middle of,” he said.

“Oh that’s right!” Tick said. “Talk about a mad crazy entrance.”

“Oh, please,” Tock said. “That was all flash. I ran down the side of a building.”

“But his had the pyrotechnics!” Tick argued. “Did you see the looks on their faces when he stood up after hitting the ground?”

“That was pretty awesome,” Tock allowed. “I think he stood up in slow motion on purpose, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Tick said. “That’s how you’re supposed to stand when you’re in the middle of a tornado of fire. You do it in slow motion so you look like a badass.”

“I didn’t stand up in slow motion,” I groaned.

“You kind of did,” Seven said, nuzzling my neck. “It was pretty hot.”

“Gross,” Tock muttered. “They’re so going to be one of those couples.”

“What kind?” Otis asked, leaning in until his face was a few inches from mine while studying me, trying to see exactly what Tock was talking about.

“The kind that’s all like ‘oh you’re so hot all the time and let’s make out while we make Tock drive us everywhere because he’s our chauffer and doesn’t get credit for running down the sides of buildings.’ Those kinds of couples piss me off.”

“I thought you were awesome,” I told Tock seriously. “I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” He grinned at me adoringly while his brother scowled. “Tick, you were crazy too,” I reassured him. “You’ve got to be pretty powerful to do what you did with that water, turning it to ice like that.” Tick blushed quietly as he preened.

“What about me, Felix?” Otis asked with a grin. “Didja see me do cool stuff too?”

“The coolest!” I exclaimed. “I think they were all scared of you the most. That had to be the biggest gun I’ve ever seen.”

Otis laughed loudly and nodded. “That’s right! And then I got that guy and it was like bam!”

“Bam it was,” I agreed. I turned to Seven. “Do you need compliments too?” I asked, grinning at him.

He shook his head and leaned in for a kiss, which I gladly gave. “I’ll get mine later,” he whispered, and I shivered.

“One of those couples,” Tock muttered.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” Seven said, probing the scratch along my head that had been caused by a bullet. I hissed gently as his fingers dug into my scalp. “You’re going to the clinic when we get home,” he said, and the tone in his voice made it clear there was no room for discussion on this. I just nodded and lay against him, yawning as I saw the outline of the Portandum Station.

“There it is,” I pointed out to Jason.

He watched the Station quietly out the window, his expression unreadable. The sun rose higher in the sky, and the building looked like it was on fire. But then the illusion was gone and I pushed it away.

“I’ll do it,” Jason whispered.

I sat up quickly as the car went quiet. “What?”

He glanced at me, then back up at the Station. “I’ll be part of the Circle. If it means I get to be by your side when this supposed darkness comes, then yes. Of course yes. I would rather know that you’re okay than have to wonder every day.”

I yelped as I jumped back over the seat, tackling my best friend. His arms came up and around me as he crushed me to him. I felt tears come hot and heavy, and they slipped out and onto his shirt. But since he didn’t care, I didn’t, either. I knew that Seven was watching us, but I needed him to understand that there was no reason for him to be jealous of Jason, because of what he was to me and what I was to him.

Kind of like him and Kammy, huh? it whispered in my ear.

I never fucked Jason, I thought. It’s not the same at all.

Still found a way to get what you wanted, though, right? She’ll be out of the Circle and Jason will be in. Way to play it, Felix. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve sworn you planned this whole thing. Can’t wait to see the look on her face when you tell her, though. That should be… interesting.

I shoved it away.

THE clinic poked and prodded me until I was sick of it. They disinfected my gunshot wound (and it was a gunshot wound, no matter how much the doc and Seven rolled their eyes at my proclamations. It was caused by a bullet that hit my skin: gunshot wound). My ribs were X-rayed at Seven’s insistence, but nothing was broken. They took blood from us, with Seven insisting that it be given top priority and that he wanted a response back by that night. The doc gave him a knowing grin, which he promptly ignored.

He took me up to bed and made me take one of the pain pills that the clinic had provided. I felt calm and fuzzy when it kicked in, and he curled around me protectively as I fell asleep. I remember thinking how funny his heart sounded as it beat against my ear. And then I fell down a rabbit hole—

—and woke up in the middle of a field. The long green blades of grass curled gently against a soft wind. The field was full of flowers: violets, foxglove, gold yarrow. There were crimson clovers, ox-eyed daises, purple horse mint, and yellow cosmos. I didn’t know how I knew the names of the flowers or why, but it didn’t seem important. The breeze brought their fragrance, brushing it over my face, the distinct smells a subtle assault on my senses. I lowered my hands and felt the petals slide against my fingertips, thin and velvety soft. A single cloud set against the bright blue sky, fat and animated. The sun was bright as it shone down onto this field, this place that felt unreal even as I plucked an Iceland poppy and stuck it in my mouth, feeling the petal against my tongue, the pollen at the back of my throat. I pulled the crumpled flower from my mouth, and it shuddered in my hand and blossomed, a bee crawling out from the center, its silvery wings flapping. It lifted into the air lazily and made its way across the field. I turned in the field and saw the flowers stretched as far as I could see, fleeing into the horizon in all directions. The view was the same every which way I turned save one: I turned north (True north, I thought) and saw a large tree in the distance, and I wondered if it was—
is it the tree?

—lonely there, by itself, surrounded for miles and miles by nothing but flowers. This saddened me, to think that the tree would have something to say but no one would be around to hear it speak, and that it would be—
if a tree falls in a forest

—a sad tree, a lonely tree. I began to walk toward it, needing to reach it, to sit at its base, to feel its bark at my back—
and no one is around to hear it

—and its roots at my feet. I wanted to dig my toes into the dirt and listen to the tree as it told its story, as I helped it to realize that it wasn’t so alone in the world. It seemed important to me that the tree understand that most of all and that—
would it still make a sound?

—it knew I would come back if I could only find my way back to this place. I began to run then, feeling the flowers whip around my ankles, and then it was like all the flowers had thorns, and they tore at my skin, drawing blood that turned to pollen and blew away into the breeze that sounded like a scream. I knew that—
to be is to be perceived

—I had to reach the tree. It needed me. It needed me to hear its sighs and songs, its dreams and its regrets. I ran faster. I got no closer. The flowers were angry flowers now, and they yelled at me to stay away, said that I wasn’t real, that of course the tree would fall, and everyone would hear it because it would crash and burn and destroy, and there was nothing that anybody to could do, I was just a silly boy, a foolish boy who thought he could make a difference in the shape of the world. The flowers said others (much better others, stronger others, more powerful others) like me had tried but that it didn’t matter, that in the end all would fail as all would fall. Then the flowery chatter ceased, and I saw four figures standing around the tree, their features indistinguishable given the distance between us. But I knew that they knew that I was there and when they turned to face me, I raised my hand in greeting and was startled when they raised their hands at the same time and it was like a reflection, like seeing myself in a mirror. I waved my left hand right and my right hand left and they did the same, all four, and the flowers were silent, but I could hear the wind blowing through the tree’s canopy, the dry leaves rattling like bones in autumn.

I opened my mouth and said Ventus, and the figure to the left exploded into a swirling green tornado that shivered as it reached for the sky, the leaves of the tree breaking off and falling into the swirling tempest. I said Ignis, and the figure on the right exploded in a great gout of fire that soared through the air and ignited the tree. It burned quickly and quietly, a low mmmmmmmm echoing throughout the field. I said Mundus, and the third figure shattered in on itself, and the ground around the tree broke apart, and the dirt of the field shot up around the tree, extinguishing the flames as it fell back toward the ground. I said Aqua, and the last figure erupted in a geyser that refracted the sun’s rays into rainbows that slid along the flowers. It flooded the tree and its roots, and the branches began to sprout green leaves again, and it bloomed and flourished, and the flowers around me screamed in anger and horror as the tree was reborn.

Then the Tree (for that’s what it was all along) spoke to me, and the flowers tried to block out the sound with their shrill cries, but the Tree had no use for such frivolous things and told them to be quiet and they were. The Tree said, Oh, don’t mind them, they’re just upset because they’re scarred, they’re broken and fragile, and don’t you see how the four Elements are about birth and creation and life and death? You have forgotten what you needed to remember, but it is no matter, because I will no longer interfere with the way of things, I am tired of helping and assisting those four again and again and again. I told them it was a folly, that man and woman would always find the need to destroy because they are scarred, just like the flowers. It is in all of them, this need and this penchant for destruction. Your kind will never know beauty, will never know peace for any stretch of time, only that darkness comes and one is chosen to rise against it. Aren’t you tired, Split Felix? Isn’t your half mind just tired of doing this same thing over and over and over again? You get up and you fight and you fight and sometimes you win and sometimes you don’t, but it’s not really victory when you’ve won a battle but not the war. You have battled much over the centuries, but you’ve never won the war. Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age, maybe I’m tired, but for some reason I’ve developed a special fondness for you and your halved mind. So I will tell you two things and two things only. Consider it a gift from me to you, and if you don’t remember it, then no one can say I didn’t try. First, you don’t yet understand what it means to be a Halved Mind. Being halved or being split usually means there are two of something. First there was one and then there were two. And secondly, I fear that the battles are almost over. You will not battle because you are different now. You will not battle because you will be going to war. This darkness will rise for a final time, and if you are alive to face it, know that this is war and whoever wins the war wins the world. And you must know who will silence the cries of those who weep.

I heard the Tree say this last and I answered: The Bringer of Darkness, the Destroyer of Worlds, and then the flowers began to scream again, and the Tree waved Its branches at me, and then a great tear opened up in the middle of the field and I fell through the blackness, where I floated for a time until a voice in the distance said Felix, and I turned to it and it said Felix again, and I knew it was him, and I wanted to see him so bad because I had only just gotten him back, and if we couldn’t have each other then we were doomed, and we would be marked and scarred, and I wouldn’t care about being alive. Felix, he said again, and then my eyes—

—snapped open.

“Felix,” Seven said, shaking my shoulder gently. “You were dreaming.”

“No shit,” I gasped, sitting up in the bed. Afternoon sunlight poured into the room, coloring the room in warm hues, bronzing the miles of naked skin that belonged to the man next to me. I heard the tree in my head still as its words bounced and echoed—
war and its two halves

—throughout my head but I couldn’t shake the sense of unreality that swarmed over me. I felt a hand on my arm and looked up at Seven’s worried face.

“I’m okay,” I said, shaking my head. “It was just a random thing. I can’t even remember what it was about.” I don’t know why I picked that moment to lie to him, but there was something niggling at the back of my mind, a thread that I wanted to pick up and follow to see where it went, and I couldn’t do that if I laid everything out in the open.

He didn’t look like he believed me, anyway. Seven pulled me to him, and we lay back down on the bed, face to face, his ocean eyes searching mine. I reached out and touched his face, my fingers disappearing into his beard. He closed his eyes at the touch as the rumble emanated from his chest. “You purr,” I accused him. “You do it all the time.” The dream was already fading.

He blushed but didn’t open his eyes. “I know,” he groaned. “I never did that at all before you came along.”

I grinned quietly to myself, the dream pushed to the back of my mind, a hunger taking its place. He must have felt the shift in the air because his eyes flashed open dangerously, and a wicked grin grew on his face as he reached up and grabbed my hand. He put one of my fingers in his mouth and sucked on it gently, his tongue rolling around the tip, biting the skin there. I gasped, and my cock wanted to come out and play, but I told it to hold on a minute, to just let me have this. I choked out something unintelligible, and the big guy grinned around my finger until he swallowed it whole. He pulled off, and I stared stupidly at my hand, wondering why I felt so sad that it was no longer getting any play.

He cleared his throat, that familiar doubt creeping back into his eyes. “So, there’s this thing I would like to try,” he said, the blush creeping back up his neck and to his cheeks.

“Oh?” I managed to say, still staring at my finger.

He shrugged. “You did it for me yesterday, and I wanted to do it then, too, but it seemed more important that we, you know….”

“Fucked?” I said helpfully.

“Uh, yeah.”

Then it hit me and I grinned at him. “You want to suck my dick!”

War, something whispered, but I ignored it.

Two, came the reply, but I shoved it away.

His face grew redder. “You don’t have to say it like that,” he grumbled.

I almost felt contrite. “I’m sorry. How about you want to make love to my member with your oral cavity? Or how about you want to fellate me until I let loose my love juice? Is that better?” I was laughing by the end, and I’m sure I had at least six more witty phrases in mind, but he didn’t let me finish as he hit me over the head with his pillow. I felt him press down gently over my face as he straddled me. I groaned into the pillow, feeling that delicious pressure as he ground his ass into my cock. Then I felt his mouth capture one of my nipples, his talented tongue laving the skin as he scraped his teeth along the sensitive bud. I felt him kiss lower down my chest, ever mindful of the bruises still hidden under the athletic tape. He reached the top of my shorts, where he paused, and my mind screamed at me to push his face down into my lap, but I waited, letting him make the decision about where to go from there. I thanked Jesus and Buddha and any other deity I could think of when he drowned in his resolve and pulled my shorts down with a quick jerking motion. I couldn’t hide my face anymore. I wanted to see this.

I looked down at him as he grabbed my cock, staring at it almost empirically. I growled deep in the back of my throat, and he glanced up at me and smiled uncertainly, and I jerked my head, indicating for him to get the show on the road, daring him to go through with it. His eyes narrowed back up at me, and he sneered, and then his mouth was on my dick, and I rolled my head back and gasped in relief. There was too much teeth, too much saliva, and he choked and gagged every so often. But then he started to relax, and he fisted the base of my cock to prevent choking as I began to thrust into his mouth. He grabbed my balls and twisted them gently in his hand, pausing every now and then to take them in his mouth, first one and then the other.

I babbled at him, and he grunted back up at me as he swallowed me again. The sight of my dick slipping in between his lips was overtly erotic, the sensation almost too much to bear. Bright flashes caused spots to dance before my eyes, and the cords stood out on my neck as a buzz picked up from my toes and rolled up through my body. I called out to him, strangled and harsh, telling him I was close, oh God, I was so close, and I tried to pull away, but he latched a big paw to my thigh and continued pulling me into him. I snapped my hips up once, then twice, and cried out as I came, shooting down his throat. He continued to suck my cock, and jism squirted out the sides of his mouth and landed on my thigh. He cleaned me off and licked up the spots that had fallen from his mouth. I groaned as he gave my sensitive dick a heavy squeeze, and he sat up then, his eyes heavy as he straddled my waist.

He reached into his shorts and pulled out his cock, the head straining and darkly blooded. Seven began to jerk off above me, rubbing his free hand along my chest, pinching my nipples and causing me to gasp. I reached down and took his fingers to my mouth, licking each one, sucking on them as his breathing deepened and began to hitch in his chest. His mouth grew into a thin line, and he pulled his hand away from me and leaned forward and kissed me, his tongue parting my lips as he moaned my name. I sucked on his bottom lip, nipping and biting, and I reached up and knocked his hand away, wanting to finish him off myself. His hands came up to the sides of my head as I pulled on his cock, as I dragged my teeth along his jaw. He muttered nothings in my ear and then he sighed, and I felt his body tense above mine, and then my hand was hot and wet. Pulse after pulse, his come splattered against my stomach. His grip tightened on me as I reached up and sucked his earlobe into my mouth. He shuddered against me, and I grinned as he collapsed on top of me, pressing his weight into me, my chest complaining but not caring. I made sure he was watching when I brought my hand, covered in his come, to my mouth and licked it clean. He tasted sweet and tangy, no hint of bitterness. His eyes widened as he watched me, and I could feel his cock express great interest in the goings-on. He reached between us, rubbed his fingers through the come on my stomach and brought it to my lips. “Do that again,” he demanded. I took his fingers into my mouth and sucked them clean, his taste flooding my mouth again. He leaned down then and pressed his lips against mine, and I tasted myself in him and he tasted himself in me, and the dream might as well never have occurred. There was no Tree. There was no war. There was no Split One or heart sworn. At that moment, in the late-afternoon sunlight, in our bed, there was just me and him. And that was all that mattered.

BUT then, of course, reality set in.

WE WERE quiet afterward for a long time, just breathing in and out, feeling ourselves congealing against each other but not really caring. He stretched his long body over mine and covered me like a blanket, his head in the crook of my neck. I wanted to talk to him, to ask him questions before we had to face the Council, but I was loath to be the first to speak, to break the silence that settled around us comfortably.

He’s probably waiting for you to start, it whispered. He knows you haven’t forgotten about any of it. And a prophecy, no less! Isn’t it great when the real world takes on shades and shapes of the fantastic? Just when you thought life couldn’t get any stranger, your great-grandmother predicted your birth and the times ahead!

I’m glad you’re so amused by this, I thought angrily.

Amused? it laughed. Apparently you’re supposed to go all dark side and silence the cries of those who weep. Amused doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m awestruck, I’m flabbergasted. I am shocked and incredulous and disbelieving and angry. Get a thesaurus and I can go on for days with what I am right now. And you should feel the same.

Who are we supposed to be angry with?

Everyone. The Council for keeping Seven from you; Seven for keeping the truth from you; your father for hiding you and never telling you anything; the Circulus Custodum for knowing about you before you knew anything; your mother for starting this whole mess; the Tree for really starting this whole mess; the people of this Station, who automatically assume you will protect them; your great-grandmother, who let slip to the world that you could possibly be the one to destroy it. You should be mad at everyone.

I sighed.

“What?” Seven asked, his lips moving against my skin.

“I think I’m mad at you,” I said without meaning to.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it, like, super angry mad that you’ll never get over?” he asked as he bit my neck gently.

“You sound like the Clock Twins,” I accused him as I arched into his teeth.

“Stick around for a while and you will too. They kind of have that effect on people.” He licked up my neck to my ear, blowing his breath on the wet trail his tongue left behind and causing gooseflesh to break out along my skin.

“Stop distracting me!” I groaned. “I’m mad at you!”

His mouth stopped its ministrations, and I could feel him breathing on me, the muscles working in his jaw as he tensed. He pushed himself off me and rolled on his back, his forearm covering his eyes. I grinned sickly at the sudden anguish I felt at the loss of his body over mine. “That didn’t mean for you to go away,” I told him. He smiled quietly to himself and raised his other arm in an invitation for me to curl up at his side. I dropped down on his chest and started picking dried spunk out of the hair on his stomach. I could feel the rumble starting in his chest again, and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re too easy,” I said.

He shrugged, that smug smile growing wider.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the prophecy?” I asked him. “And can we agree never to use the word ‘prophecy’ ever again?”

He didn’t speak for the longest time, and I could see his emotions play over his face as he struggled to find the right words. Then, finally: “I was going to tell you. I just figured you already had enough shit dumped on you that the rest could wait a couple of days.”

I let this sink in and wasn’t surprised when I felt anger flash through me, hot and bright. I struggled to suppress it, but I knew he could feel me stiffen against him, and he held me tighter, refusing to let me pull away. “What else have you kept from me?” I asked, my voice low and even.

He sighed. “If there is anything else, it’s for your own good, Felix. I don’t do it to hide anything from you, nor do I do it because I think you couldn’t handle it. I do it because I want to keep you safe. There may come a time when you’ll need to know more, but I don’t think now is that time. Everything you know has changed, and it would overwhelm anyone. But add in the fact that you’re essentially supposed to protect everyone in this Station and that you’re the only one of your kind, and that’s enough to crush a person.”

“I’m a big boy, Seven,” I snapped. “It’s not up to you to decide what I am and am not ready to know. “

“Actually, it is.”

My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I am your protector,” he said gruffly. “That is my one and only job now. And if I feel that certain information will do more harm than good, you can bet your ass I’ll make that decision. I don’t care how pissed off you get. I’m only thinking of you.”

“I’m not going to break,” I said angrily. “You’ve seen all the shit I’ve gone through in my life, everything I’ve had to do. If I can do all of that and still be able to get out of bed every morning, then I think I’ve earned the fucking right to know all that you do.” I tried to pull away from him, but he held on tightly. “Let me go,” I snarled.

“No.”

“Seven, I’m not playing around. Get the hell off of me!”

“No.” Then his arm shifted, and I thought I was going to get away, but he rolled back on top of me, crushing me underneath him. I contemplated lighting his hair on fire for just a moment, but then he pinned my arms down with his hands and laid his head on my chest, my heartbeat drumming in his ear.

“Tell me,” I ground out.

He rumbled again. I thought at first he was going to refuse, and I was about to light his hair on fire anyway, but then he spoke, his voice calm and quiet. By the time he finished, I had tears in my eyes, and my anger had grown but not at him. At everything else. The way he spoke about me, how my name trembled on his lips, his ocean eyes as they raised to watch me while he spoke, all those things almost destroyed me. For however much I sacrificed, Seven had done the same, if not more, and I needed to remember that.

He said, “When we were at Jason’s apartment and that first guy fired the gun at you, I thought to myself this is it; I let him go down there without me and this is it and he is going to die. I never had the feeling of time slowing down as much as it did then, and it was like I could see the path of the bullet and you didn’t even know it was heading for you. I asked God if he would spare you, I asked the Tree if it would allow this not to happen. And then it struck the side of your head, and I saw the flash of blood and I knew you’d been hit, and everything I knew just stopped. But then you spun around, and I could see the fire in your eyes and I knew you were okay, even as your blood dripped down the side of your face. I pulled out my gun and was going to shoot the bastard where he stood, but then he fired again and I knew he wouldn’t miss that time. If you had died right then, if you had died in front of me and I felt the wind and fire grow within me, I would have taken my gun and put it against my temple and pulled the trigger. I was going to be completely selfish and run the risk of letting the world fall into darkness because you weren’t in it, because I could not protect you.”

My eyes went wide at his words.

“But then you did something I didn’t think was possible. Instead of directing it with your hands, you called the fire up with your mind. Don’t argue against me on that, because we both know you did. Even as that fucker shot at your head, you were able to see it coming at you, and you raised a wall of fire in front of you without even twitching your fingers. And this wall was searing enough to disintegrate the bullet as it passed through it. You should have died, Felix. What you did was impossible, and you should have died. I have never seen such a display of power from anyone before in my life and I’ve been completely surrounded by Elementals since I can remember.

“You are the Findo Unum, and you are Animo Dimidio, but above all else, you are my heart. I wish that I could say that I understand what it is you are supposed to do. I wish I could tell you that being a leader of the Elementals, rising up against whatever may come, was something I wanted for you to do. It’s not. I hate it. I hate everything about it. All I want to do is drag you away to a place where no one knows who we are and keep you there all for myself until the end of the world comes, because then I know we’d at least be together when the time came, that we’d go out at the same time. I don’t ever want to have your abilities. I would choose to be a Normal for the rest of my life if it meant I was there with you. If I was strong like you, it would mean that you were gone, and nothing would matter anymore because the world wouldn’t make sense to me.”

My heart ached at his words, and I brought my hand to his lips to silence him, to make him stop. He shook his head and kissed my fingers lightly before continuing.

“I turned twenty before I was told about the prophecy. This was approximately a year after the attack on the Station, and four years after the fire at your house. The Council called me into a meeting, but not in the chambers, which I thought was weird at the time. It wasn’t until later that I realized the chambers were as wired as the rest of the building, and that anything said in there was most likely heard by someone else. No, they took me to one of the tunnels below the Station, the farthest down we could go, I think. I remember wondering what they were going to do with me, down in the dark. I wondered if I was going to be punished for coming for you in the fire. I wondered if they were going to kill me and leave me in the tunnels. I wasn’t scared for myself or for any of them around me; I was scared for you. I was scared that I wasn’t going to be able to keep my promise to you about coming back for you. I thought I was never going to see you grow up, to see what kind of man you would become. I thought I would never get to tell you all the secrets I wanted to share with you, secrets that I couldn’t share with anyone else. I thought my mom would never get to meet you, and be proud of me for finding someone who completed me like no other could. I thought my father would never get to meet you, to see just how strong you would be. I had totally forgotten that they were already dead. I was scared down in those tunnels, not for what would happen to me, but would never happen with us.

“So I was shocked when the Council stood before me in the dark and recited the prophecy. I was shocked when they named the woman who it had come from. The majority of what they said was told second-hand, passed down from the Council before them. There were only two parts that remained intact. The one that you know, the one that seems to list you as the darkness, the destroyer of worlds, was told to me first. The Council told me later that anyone with great power will always be tried, that corruption will always be near. They said it was my job as your Iuratum Cor to prevent this corruption from happening. I was told that we would both be tested and that if we stayed true, that could defeat the old woman’s words. I refuse to believe that the future is written in stone. I refuse to believe I won’t be able to protect you. I refuse to—” He stopped, his words choking in his throat.

“Say it,” I said hoarsely. “Finish it.”

He watched me with heavy eyes and then leaned forward and kissed me, long and deep. I felt his breath on my tongue, his beard against my lips as I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. I gasped into his mouth and writhed against him as he pressed further into me. I wanted to be consumed by him, to have him possess me for the rest of our lives. The need was urgent, but I needed him to finish it. I pushed him away, and he snarled down at me, feral and wild. “Finish it!” I cried.

“I refuse to allow you to become corrupted,” he said harshly, his eyes darting angrily over my face. “You will never know what it’s like to be buried in darkness because I’ll never allow it to happen. I spent my entire fucking life preparing for you to be by my side, and I’ll be damned if that’ll ever happen on my watch. So yes, there are things I haven’t told you, and yes, there are decisions I will make that you won’t like, but while you have to care about the rest of the people and the rest of the world, I only have to care about you, and I will only have to worry about you, and I don’t give shit if that’s selfish, or if you can’t ever feel even remotely the same way about me. I am going to spend the rest of my life protecting you, and you will do what I say, when I say it, and you’ll be fucking happy that you get to do it!”

By the end, he was shouting, spraying spittle on my face, his eyes showing how close he was to losing it. His hands trembled as they came up near my throat, and I wondered if he was going to choke me, and I wondered why I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my entire life. He kissed me then, savagely, and I could feel his anger and his excitement as he pressed down against me. I felt myself start to float away as he slicked his fingers wet with his saliva and roughly shoved them into my hole, and I squirmed underneath him, trying to get away but also trying to get him deeper, as deep as he could go.

“You don’t talk about killing yourself ever again!” I snarled at him as his fingers twisted in me.

“Then don’t fucking die!” Seven shouted back at me, his voice breaking, his eyes flashing in terror. I could feel his hand around my throat, and three of the fingers on his other hand shoved up my ass. He glared down at me, sneering angrily.

I moaned underneath him, and his breathing grew ragged, hitching as it bounced out of his chest. I cried out when he pulled his fingers out, but then he spit into his hand and slathered his cock, the head glistening as he slid over it. My eyes rolled back into my head, and he pressed his dick at my entrance, and then he waited. Even as far gone as he was, he waited until I arched my hips into him, my legs wrapping around his waist and pulling me to him. He chuckled darkly and pressed in, and I was stretched, and it burned, and tears welled in my eyes, and I could feel him hesitate. “Don’t you even stop,” I panted at him. His hips began to snap back and forth, and the burning gave way to flying. His hand eased from around my throat, and I felt bereft of him; bereft, that is, until he leaned down and covered my chest with his, the hair tickling along my skin. He muttered something in my ear, but I was on fire and it didn’t matter. I crossed my ankles around his wide back until wave after wave struck me and I called out his name, and he whispered, “Felix,” and then filled me with himself, pulsing again and again and again.

“Felix,” he sighed.

SEVEN was quiet as he led me to the shower. He held me as the hot water poured down around us, and he reached up with one hand and washed my hair, ever careful about the soap running into my eyes. It seemed to calm him, these simple acts, and so I let him have them, let him do what he needed to make himself better. It made me feel better as well, this gentle side of him, such a contrast to the dominance that he’d already shown. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder, and the action was so beautiful that it brought a tear to my eye. I pushed my face under the spray of water so he wouldn’t see, but then his arms wrapped around me tightly, and I knew he wasn’t fooled.

He dried me off afterward, toweling my hair gently, rubbing the water from my skin. He made me sit on the toilet with the towel around my waist, and he clipped my hair so the stubble on my head was as short as his own. He swept the tiny hairs from off my shoulders and dropped them into the trash and then pulled me out to the bedroom. He sat me on the bed and went to the closet and pulled out clothing for both of us, handing me each article one by one, watching as my underwear went on, as my pants went on. I had a hard time with my shirt, given my ribs, so he motioned with his hands, and I raised my arms in the air, and he slid the shirt over my arms and chest. He bent forward and slipped on my socks and shoes, tying each on slowly and methodically. Throughout this entire process, he never said a word.

At first, I thought it was because he was embarrassed, that he felt like he’d said too much to me, shown me the depths of what I was starting to think of as an obsession. I wracked my brain for some way to reassure him, to tell him that none of that mattered to me, that he could be obsessed all he wanted and I would still follow him anywhere. But that didn’t seem quite right.

Then I thought he was punishing me for doubting him, for calling him out on all that he hadn’t told me. I allowed myself to follow this line of thought, and I grew angry at both him and myself. What gave him the right to give me the goddamn silent treatment? What were we, twelve years old? This bullshit needed to end and it needed to end now. I had every right to ask questions, and I had every right to expect Seven to tell me the whole truth. I expected him to be honest with me. Then I felt ashamed and angry with myself because nothing I knew about him suggested pettiness.

Then I recognized it for what it was: his actions, his movements, his careful treatment of me. He was showing me very openly and very clearly that I was his and that he expected to take care of me. No words were needed, because his hands and eyes and motions said it all. I bristled at this, but only for a moment. I knew he was waiting for me to stop him, to snap at him, to let me do this on my own, and I knew then that he would let me. For all the bravado the big guy carried with him, I was reminded again and again that underneath he was still just as scared as I was, just as unsure about this whole thing, maybe even more so than the rest of us. He tied the last knot on my shoe and looked up at me, and I watched him, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I reached up slowly and cupped his face in my hands, and he closed his eyes and nuzzled gently against my palms. I watched him for a moment before bringing my lips to his. He sighed into my mouth, and I caught it and swallowed it down. I let him know as best I could that I would let him do whatever he needed to do to keep his sanity. I also knew then, for the first time, that while the big guy would lay down his life to protect me, I would now do the same for him.

I think he knew.

WE TOOK the elevator down to the Pavilion. He held my hand loosely and would shoot me shy glances out of the corner of his eye. I grinned at him, and he reached up and touched a mark he’d made on my throat, and I felt the pleasant burn as he pressed his finger into it.

“That should be great for meeting with the Council,” I teased him.

“It matches the one on the other side,” he said quietly.

“Oh, well, then. As long as they’re matching.”

“They wouldn’t dare speak out against it,” he scoffed.

I rolled my eyes as the elevator door opened. “I was thinking more along the lines of Tick and Tock. You know they won’t—”

“Holy shit, boss! Did you beat him up with your mouth?” Tick exclaimed loudly as he stood from his perch near the elevator doors.

“—keep their mouths shut,” I muttered.

“Jesus,” Tock whispered. “Gay sex is hardcore.” He jumped up and stood next to me, not knowing what personal space meant. “I think he was trying to eat you,” he told me.

“Or something,” I agreed.

The rest of the Circle stood around us: Dan and Edna with their quiet smirks; Otis grinning like a loon; Amy looking vaguely turned on; and Jason, his arms across his chest, his head cocked to the side as he studied me. I blushed under their scrutiny, and I heard Seven snicker next to me. I swore at him under my breath, thinking about how I was going to put a hickey on his forehead the next time we were alone. This led to a whole slew of dirtier thoughts that I banished to the back of my mind. The Pavilion didn’t seem to be the best place to rock a hard-on.

I looked beyond the Circle and saw that the normal hustle and bustle that I already associated with the Pavilion had stalled, the large mass of people watching me with an almost rapturous curiosity. The crowd breathed as one, the silence almost deafening as it washed over me. I didn’t know what to do, or what to say. I felt Seven shift against me, his arm coming up protectively around my shoulders, but he was stopped by Edna. She pulled him away, shaking her head at him as he scowled. I understood her actions but still felt a pang of resentment toward her. I hadn’t yet been here twenty-four hours, and I was being thrown to the wolves. I pondered my next step (do I speak? do I walk among them? do I stand here like an idiot with my jaw hanging open?), but I was stuck, unsure what they wanted from me.

A little girl pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She was tiny, probably no more than eight or nine years old. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail which bounced behind her as she marched steadfastly toward me. I watched an older woman start to reach out for her, but she was stopped by the man next to her. I could see what I thought was fear in their eyes, a fear normally reserved for meeting someone of high esteem. But she nodded resolutely, watching her daughter (niece? ward?) walk up to me. I looked down at the little girl as she looked up at me. Her green eyes sparkled, and she smiled sweetly up at me.

“I’m Alice,” she said, her little voice carrying out over the crowd. “Are you the Split Man?”

I shrugged as I smiled at her. “So I’ve been told. It’s nice to meet you, Alice. My name is Felix.”

“I thought you would be taller,” she said, eyeing me up and down. A nervous titter flowed through the crowd.

I laughed. “I get that a lot,” I told her. “I’m sorry if I’m not as big as you thought I would be.”

Alice shook her head. “My mom said it’s doesn’t matter how big you are, but what’s in your heart.”

I glanced up at her parents and saw her mother give me a watery smile. “I would agree with that,” I said softly.

“How big is your heart, Felix?” she asked.

“Big enough. I hope.” I couldn’t help but feel that this little girl was a test, the first of many I was sure to endure from the people of the Station. Many of them had spent years hearing about me, so much so that I felt they were having problems reconciling the image they’d made of me with the person that stood before them. I wanted to be angry at them for this, but I couldn’t. Not with the earnest expression on the little girl’s face.

“My dad says that since you’re here, everything will be okay,” she said. “He said that there is a reason that you were born and it’s to make sure we’re all safe.”

“Did he?” I asked, wondering what else her parents had told her about me.

She nodded. “I wanted to be Split too,” Alice said sadly, playing with the hem of her dress. “But Dad said the Split One is chosen by the Tree.”

“Oh?”

“So I went outside and spoke with a tree and asked him to make me Split. You know what the tree said to me?”

Nothing, I hope. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Trees can’t talk, Felix. Duh.” Then she laughed, the sound tinkling across the room. It was so innocent, so pure, that I couldn’t help but kneel down before her and take her in my arms. She gasped in surprise and hugged me back fiercely. “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” she whispered in my ear. “My mom and dad are always scared now, and I don’t want them to be scared anymore, either. Can you help us?”

I pulled away, my eyes wide as she rested her head on my shoulder. “I can try,” I told her quietly. “But I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“Maybe one day I can be in the Circle,” she said, eyeing the group behind me. “I can make fire. I can help protect you.”

“One day,” I said, impulsively kissing her on the forehead. She giggled as she wiped it off, blushing. I stood back up, and she started to walk away. I saw her parents smiling at her, but then she stopped. I thought she was going to ask more questions when she turned, but instead she raised her hands and sighed. “This I do for you,” she said quietly. The crowd behind her gasped, but my eyes were only for her, this little Alice.

The fire flowed gently from her hands and crawled through the air toward me. I felt the warmth as it circled me and laughed when it flicked against my cheeks like a gentle kiss, the air hot, but never burning. It flowed lazily around me before returning to its master, spinning slowly above her head. I felt a tightness in my chest, a rip in my heart that this girl, this sweet little girl, felt fit to bind herself to me. I remembered what Seven had said, that Obligatorius meant their lives were in my hand, that they would always do as I commanded. They would even die for me, should I ask. It was a terrible thing to be able to hold over another. This girl was trusting a stranger who she’d grown up her whole life hearing about, but never seeing, never knowing if he truly existed. It took all of two minutes for her old soul to make up its mind, to offer me what it did. I felt a tear fall from my eye. I wanted to tell her no, to go out in the world and grow up and see everything she could see and fall in love and find who she wanted herself to be. But I realized that if what I’d been told was true, if there was something approaching on the horizon, then she might never get that chance. Everything she knew might be taken from her. I thought of the ones who had died in the attack on the Station so many years before. I thought of the ones I’d killed over the past few days. I thought of all those who died to protect the identity of the Iuratum Cor, of the Findo Unum.

I thought of my mother.

I felt the air around me stir and it burst from my left hand, fire pulsing from my right. The members of the Station sighed as they watched, their eyes wide, many faces wet. The fire circling above Alice’s head broke apart and danced down from around her head, frolicking with the wind, with the fire that was so much whiter than her own. They spun around each other, and I felt her then, her mind, her spirit. I knew her fears and doubts, her hopes and dreams. She had a crush on an older boy at her school. She thought her parents fought too much, and she would sometimes put her pillow over her head as they yelled late into the night. She thought she wanted to be a doctor, but she also wanted to be on the Security Force. She thought Seven was a babe. This last caused me to laugh, and the fire swirling in between us sparked and brightened. It pooled onto the floor in a glowing circle and then shot toward the ceiling, fading as it rose.

Alice ran at me and jumped into my arms, and I spun her around. Her laughter rang in my ears, and even though the Binding was over, I could still feel part of her whispering around in my mind. It was beautiful. “Thank you,” I whispered to her. “And he is a babe, isn’t he?” She grinned and blushed again, wiggling out of my arms and running back to her parents. They scooped her up in their arms as she babbled at them. Her father stroked her hair. Her mother mouthed thank you to me. I nodded.

I felt Seven walk up beside me, and he put his arm around my shoulder and brought my forehead to his. “That was amazing,” he whispered to me, his eyes wide and happy. “Are you okay?”

“They need me, don’t they?” I asked him. “They need all of us.”

He nodded slowly. “They have been without hope for so long, all of them. Hearing about you for years is one thing, but seeing you here, knowing that you can do what they’ve all been told you can do, it’s like nothing else. These are my people, Felix, and they will be yours too, if you let them.”

I glanced back out at the crowd. “There’s so many of them. What if we fail?”

He kissed my forehead gently. “At least we’ll have tried,” he said. “And that’s all that can be expected of us.”

I pulled back and stared up into his handsome face. “Well, big guy. We’ve got time before we have to meet with the Council. Why don’t you show Jason and me around?”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

I nodded, pleased that he was happy.

He pulled me out onto the floor, the Circle falling into line behind us. I was introduced to what seemed like everyone in the Pavilion that day. I tried to remember their names, but after the thirtieth introduction my head already felt full, and I sighed. But Seven seemed to know every single person, never hesitating with a name or a story when a new person stood before me. No one else tried to bind themselves to me, and I was okay with that. I wondered what would happen if they all tried to do it at once, if all their thoughts and feelings and dreams and fears would crash down upon me, drowning me even as I struggled to breathe.

I met an Earth Elemental who was missing a leg, a victim of the attack all those years before. His hands shook as I held them. I met an old woman, a Normal who had raised all her children in the Station, all of whom were Elementals, most of which were gone, spread out across the country. I met a boy who was blind but could manipulate the wind. There was a man who tried to sell me the freshest fruit this side of the Mississippi. A group of teenage girls screamed with laughter and whispered to each other as I blushed around them. I think one of them grabbed my ass. Seven growled at them, and they ran away giggling. I met one of the teachers in the Elemental School, a handsome man with a devilish twinkle in his eye who held my hand longer than he should have. Seven growled at him, too, but he just laughed. Jason and I were amazed at the fire juggler, the water dancer. There were men and women, old and young, Elementals and Normals: the Pavilion echoed with their voices, their jubilation, their lives. I was overwhelmed, I was humbled. But nothing touched me more than what Seven saved for last.

With his hand in mine, he pulled me toward the middle of the floor, the crowd parting before us, a hush again falling over the Station. As the last people moved out of the way, I saw a bronze statue standing on a raised dais. It was of two children, their hands clasped together at their sides. The boy pointed off into the distance, the girl smiling as she looked up at the boy. Their faces were so lifelike and realistic that it made my bones ache. There was a plaque at the bottom. Seventy-four names were etched neatly into the bronze under four words in Latin:

ERIMUS SEMPER MEMINI VESTRI

I brushed my fingers over the engraved names (TORI JUNE and MARCUS TANNER and NOAH MATTHEW and ANDREA GWEN and so many, many more), memorizing the feel of them under my touch. It wasn’t until I got to a surname that I recognized that I stopped and felt tears burn my eyes: AUGUSTUS FORTIS and MEGAN FORTIS and CASSIUS FORTIS. Seven raised his hand and covered my own as we traced the letters of each name. “Father,” he said quietly to Augustus. “Mother,” he said to Megan. “Granddad,” he said to Cassius. The words were spoken with such reverence, such love, that I turned to him and wrapped him in my arms. My heart sworn bowed into me and shook, his head on my shoulder, his arms around my waist.

“What does it say?” I asked him softly. “Across the top?”

“We will always remember you,” he whispered.

I smiled sadly into his neck, feeling his strength and his grief. I pulled back away from him, a thought forming in my mind. If it worked, I thought it would be an amazing gift for the people of the Station, a reminder that these things would never be forgotten. If I fucked it up, I expected be strung up and beaten. But it was something I had to do. For him.

“Do you trust me?” I asked him, searching his eyes.

Seven nodded. “Always.”

I took his hand in mine and placed my palm flat against the bottom of the plaque, in a space near the floor that was blank. I took his hand and pressed it again to the back of mine and looked up at him. He watched me with curious eyes. “You can’t get burned by my fire, can you?” I asked him, suddenly sure of his answer.

He shook his head. “So it’s said.”

I nodded. I felt terrified and unsure, but I knew what I had to say. “Over the past few days,” I said, raising my voice so it would carry over the crowd, “I’ve been forced from my life by people who wanted to stop what I supposedly meant to all of you. I can’t quite say I understand it yet, and I’ve been in your home for only a short time, but it is more of a home than I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t have to hide who I am here; I don’t have to worry about being discriminated against, or hated, or feared. You all have given me much to be thankful for in such a short amount of time. I do this for all of you.” I lowered my voice so only Seven could hear me. “And you: somehow, you are my home. Somehow, you are my heart. This I do for you.”

His eyes widened as he felt the heat burst from my palm, as the fire spread out from underneath our hands. It rolled up and back over his hands, licking the finite hairs, grazing over his knuckles. I focused like I’d never focused before, and in my head, I saw the words I was trying to say and in my chest, I felt the flare flash brilliantly. The fire snapped up across the plaque, illuminating each word, each name of those who had died. All the names were lit when it reached the empty space above our hands, and the fire slashed into the metal, carving and slicing. The people of the Station murmured quietly, but I only had eyes for him. When it was finished, when I was certain I had done all I could do, I pulled the fire back into me and sighed. He glanced down and saw my gift to him. Below the names of the fallen, there was a new phrase, one that he’d first uttered to me on that dark night so many years before:

YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN THIS

He rubbed his hands over the new letters, his eyes soft and wet, the ocean calm beneath them. I saw him glance back up at the names of his family, at all the families that were gone, and then he reached over and pulled me to him, his body strong and warm, his heart alive and wild against mine. I felt a rush of emotion roll over me, awakening something I never thought was possible. It’s too soon, I thought as the blood roared in my ears. Oh God, how can I already…. But I pushed it away, too scared to see what it would show me. I focused on the man in my arms. This I did for him.

I looked at the crowd beyond his shoulder and saw many of the same faces I had met already. Some heads were bowed with silent tears, others stared at the statue, and still others were smiling big and wide. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and saw my father, standing off near the main stairs, his hands behind his back, his eyes kind and watchful. He nodded at me silently. I needed to talk to him, I knew, and soon. There was much to be said between the two of us, and I didn’t know if it would be an angry thing or not. I looked up at the landing overlooking the Pavilion and saw Nero and Kammy watching us. Kammy’s eyes were hard as she glared at me. Nero was unreadable. They would both be at the Council meeting. I would deal with the both of them then. It was time that I had my say, especially to Nero.

But at that moment, it was all about the big guy in my arms. I felt his wet cheek upon my neck, and I ran my fingers through his shorn hair and breathed with him, holding him as he grieved for what he’d lost. “You are not alone in this,” I whispered to him.

WHAT I have to say to you now is difficult, but I feel it is necessary. You should be warned about what’s ahead so you know the shape of things to come.

Do you remember when I told you about hindsight? I said that it was our grand folly, a gift and a curse, blessed upon us to use at our will and against it. Had I known then what I know now, I wonder what I would have changed. I wonder what I would have done differently. I wonder if it would have even mattered. For all that had happened so far, for all that I’d been through, what the people of the Station had been through, what these people who were becoming my family had been through, it seemed impossible that the darkness would come again so soon.

But it would.

How was I to know, then, that in a few weeks’ time, one of the Circle would be dead by the hands of another who watched us that day in the Pavilion? How was I to know that the plan had already been set in motion long before I’d stepped foot into the Station? We would be betrayed, and a terrible secret would be revealed. One of us would be dead, murdered by a traitor under the orders of the Scarred King. And Seven, oh God, Seven, Seven would be in my arms and he would be dying, blood gushing from the fatal wound on his chest. I would feel his hand as he reached up to touch my cheek before the light went out in his eyes. I would scream at the horror of it all as the life of my heart sworn poured through my fingers, and then… and then I would burn.

Ah God, ah Great Tree, ah Prima, you bastards. You assholes. How dare you make me remember. How dare you show me this. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

WHEN I entered the chambers of the Consilium Elementorum for the first time, I was struck by just how different the room was compared to what I had seen of the rest of the Station. Where the Pavilion was lively and bustling and bright, the chambers were dark and slightly sinister. I wondered if my unease came strictly from facing the entire Council for the first time, but the marked difference in the air—a heavy feeling that I couldn’t seem to shake—permeated the room.

The Council sat on a raised dais at the end of the room. Flags hung down behind them and around the room, alternating between fire, water, earth, and air. The walls were covered in murals depicting the Tree, the Prima. One showed the Firsts bowing at the base of the Great Tree; another showed them floating overhead, laughing and pointing as the Tree’s branches hung low in anger and shame. Salamandeir was portrayed as a massive man with a beard of fire, his eyes glowing white hot, his muscles cut and gleaming in his own firelight; Gnopher was a short squat man, clods of earth falling from his flowing robes, looking perpetually anxious in every scene he was portrayed in; Sylpha was a wisp of a woman, her eyes flashing green and seeming to follow me across the room as she flowed across the walls and ceiling; Ondine was the most beautiful of them all, her crystal eyes and hair that flowed like water down a curvaceous figure that I’m sure any straight man would lust after. They looked larger than life, they looked godlike, almighty and strong. But it dawned on me that they also looked fake, like it was an assumption made of how such beings should look. I had thought the same as a child when coming across pictures of what God supposedly looked like: long white hair flowing, an aura of great power surrounding him, a look of stern consternation on his face. It’s what someone like God should look like; it was the same with the Prima. Each was wrapped in their own Elements; each was exuding a significant presence that drew the eye.

The Tree Itself was a dark thing. Every time It cropped up in one of the murals, the branches would be black and split as It rose across the wall and ceiling. There were times It was shown bare as in the dead of winter; other times It was in full bloom, but the greens and browns of spring were often muted and shallow. The Tree was always shown with Its roots, as if to drive home the point that it was stuck where It was, rooted to the world. The Firsts could go here and there, but the Tree was immovable. Allegorically, it spoke volumes.

There were three woman and three men on the council, including Nero, and all watched me with curious eyes. Nero seemed to be less awestruck then his counterparts, an expression of bored calculation on his face. I was not surprised to see Kammy waiting for us before the dais. I felt Seven’s hand in mine squeeze tightly, meaning to reassure me. I squeezed back, meaning to reassure him. I felt the ensign around my neck warm slightly.

The Circle followed closely behind us, the majority of them staring straight ahead, warily watching the members of the Council. Jason, like myself, craned his neck up and around, taking in the size of the chambers. The walls rose high into the air, probably fifty feet or more. Chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, their crystals sparkling from the high windows that let in the weak sunlight. Our footsteps echoed across the chambers. No one from our group spoke.

We reached the dais and stopped in front of the Council. Seven stood next to me, his hand still in mine. I didn’t miss the way Kammy’s eyes darted to our hands, but the angry look in her eyes was gone before I could be sure it was ever there. Otis was to my immediate right, and Jason stood behind me. I was dwarfed by them as they crowded around me, but I allowed it, knowing what they were trying to show the Council. The Clock Twins were next to Seven, their faces schooled bland as they watched Nero with disinterest. Amy was next to Otis, and the Magisters were next to her.

We waited.

Nero still appeared to be the youngest member of the Consilium Elementorum. The woman on the end smiled quietly at me, her white hair pulled back to reveal a kind face. She was a Water Elemental, I knew, and a powerful one at that. The two women next to her appeared to be twins, darkly skinned with olive eyes and streaks of gray through their black hair. One was an Earth Elemental, the other Water. They looked at me as one might look at a previously undiscovered species of bug. Nero came next, looking dapper as always in his fitted suit, the chair back rising behind him and reminding me of a darkly ornate throne. His ankle crossed his knee in front of him, his hand near his mouth as he frowned. The man next to him looked to be the oldest: his large bushy eyebrows stretched dramatically across his forehead until they met above the bridge of his nose. His liver-spotted hands shook with palsy as he clasped them in front of him. He controlled fire. The man at the end was gigantic, an opposing figure in black, his steel eyes matching his steel hair, his face, undoubtedly once handsome, now deeply lined and earnest as he watched me. Our eyes met, and something flickered between us (what, I didn’t know), but he nodded at me with the ghost of a smile on his craggy face. I knew he was a Wind Elemental, one of the few in the Station.

“Findo Unum,” Nero said, nodding his head at me, his jaw tight. “I hear you had… more adventures in the City this morning. I would have thought that after the events at the Cantio Building, that you would have been a little more… selective with your public appearances.”

I snorted. “My friend was in trouble. I did what I had to, to protect him.”

Nero arched an eyebrow. “And did you know he was in trouble when you left the Station? Without, I must say, the escort of your Iuratum Cor?”

Seven growled next to me, and I squeezed his hand again. Before we had come into the Chambers, we had agreed that I would be the one to speak, as the questions they would be asking would most likely be geared toward me (agreed might be a strong word—Seven looked like it thought it was the stupidest idea in the world until I chided him gently. Only then did he roll his eyes and grumble to himself, wondering aloud if all Iurata Cordes had to deal with such mouthy Split Ones. I assured him they did). “I am my own man,” I told the Council. “As much as the big guy here thinks he can follow me around everywhere, I am still my own person. I will not be told where I can and can’t go.”

“But surely you understand,” one of the dark-haired twins said, “that it is for your own protection. The majority of the Circle has trained for years in anticipation of your arrival.”

“Well, then, it’s good that two of them went with me when I left,” I reminded them. “Tick and Tock are more than capable Guardians for what I had in mind.” Amy snorted as the Clock Twins grinned and puffed out their chests as far as they could go. They still looked twelve years old.

“And we’ll deal with them later,” Nero said gravely. “They knew better than to take the Split One out of the Station without referring to Seven or myself.” The twins deflated immediately.

I shook my head. “You will do no such thing.”

Nero scowled. “And how’s that now?”

“Tick and Tock are a part of the Guardians Circle, right?”

He nodded.

“Then any punishment for their actions will come from me.”

The Wind Elemental on the Council tried to cover his laughter, but he wasn’t successful. The Councilman next to him elbowed him, and the big man regained control of his faculties, ignoring the glare he received from Nero. I nodded at him and he smiled back, settling his hands back in front of him.

“I don’t think you quite know your place yet,” Nero said, turning back to me. “You have been here for less than two days, and you have shown egregious insolence the entire time. You may be Findo Unum, Mr. Paracel, but don’t you forget who you answer to.”

“Oh, Nero, really.” The white-haired Water Elemental sniffed delicately. “You act like this is court and Felix is on trial. We are here to welcome him, and to take the Iuramenta from him and the Circle.” She turned back to me. “And forgive our rudeness, child. I am Theresa. This is Kaila and Elaina,” she said, pointing at the twins, who nodded at me. “You know Nero. The man next to him is Caleb, and the big man on the end is Toren.” Caleb cocked his head in greeting, and Toren smiled. “Now,” Theresa said, “what makes you think that you should speak above the Council?”

I thought hard on my answer before I spoke. “I was under the impression,” I said slowly, “that I was here to lead the people who would follow. And that the Circle was there to help guide my way.”

Theresa nodded. Nero looked mutinous.

“Then any actions against the members of the Circle will be decided by me,” I said, staring directly at Nero. “I will be more than happy to listen to what you have to say, but the decision will be mine alone.”

“What are you going to make us do?” Tick asked fearfully.

“Is he going to take away our computers?” Tock whispered to his brother.

“Please don’t take away our computers!” Tick begged.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not taking away your damn computers.”

“Oh, thank Jesus,” they both sighed.

“And they’re not going to be punished,” I said to Nero. “I made the decision to go to Jason, and they as my Guardians chose to accompany me. They did their job, and I will do mine.”

Toren laughed out loud again. “You’re very strong-willed for such a little man,” he said, grinning at me. “I can see that Seven is going to have his hands full with you.” Tick and Tock found this hilarious until I told them I was taking their computers away. They went silent immediately.

“Your charm will only take you so far,” Nero warned. “In two days, your actions have brought more negative attention toward Elementals than there has been in the last two years!”

“What would you have had me do?” I asked him, curiosity outweighing the anger. “Soldiers with guns attacked the Cantio Building. The Scarred King’s people attacked us at Jason’s apartment. Nothing I did instigated any of that.”

“You instigated things by simply breathing,” Nero scoffed. “I would have hoped for someone with far more subtlety than yourself to be in your position. You don’t understand the nuances of your title. It’s all flash and bang with you. You would think all your years of hiding would have made you wary. Cautious.” He glared at me until another thought came to him. “And speaking of instigation: what of the whore in the alley? Had that not happened, arguably nothing else would have.”

“She was being hurt,” I said quietly. “And she needed my help. I wouldn’t have just stood by and let that bastard rape her.” I cocked my head. “Is that what you would have done?” I asked him. “If you were me?”

“What I would have done is neither here nor there. This is not about me. This is about you and how you allowed yourself to be broadcast on the ten o’clock news because you had to get involved.”

My curiosity was gone. I was angry now. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t pick and choose who to protect. If there are people who need help, I will help them, regardless of their….” I stopped and frowned. “Wait, is this because she was a Normal?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly, but there was a flash across his eyes, and I knew he was lying. Nero was pissed off because I had chosen to help a Normal. I wondered if all those without abilities here in the Station knew exactly what their Councilman thought of them.

I felt Seven tense beside me, and I was surprised that he’d been able to keep quiet as long as he had. I glanced up at the big guy and saw his face was dark and angry, his hand gripping mine tightly as he ground his teeth together. He knew, just as I did, what Nero truly meant. How was it that a man such as him was able to be in the position that he was? I understood that his moves were politically motivated, but I struggled to understand how no one had called him out on his bullshit over the years. Were they all really that scared of him?

Maybe it’s for good reason, it whispered. Look how long he’s survived.

Even when a roof collapsed down upon him, I thought. He escaped like a cockroach.

“Regardless of the fact,” I said aloud, “I don’t apologize for my actions. I did what I thought was right and I would do it again.”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Caleb said nervously. “I don’t think Nero is trying to accuse you of anything. I think he is merely hoping your actions won’t have any… unforeseen consequences.”

“Like the ERA?” I asked. “The ERA was being pushed long before I ever heard any of your names.”

“But it’s what you’ve done that causes it to succeed!” Nero scowled. “They are already reporting on your little fiasco in the streets that caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage. Eyewitnesses said an Elemental with dual abilities tore the street apart!”

“They already knew I was alive,” I retorted. “They knew that from the Cantio Building. It was no longer a secret!”

“You don’t have to throw it in their faces!” he shouted. “What are you going to do when—”

“That’s… enough,” Seven said, his voice quaking. I could see the members of the Council draw back and felt a certain sense of satisfaction when I saw Nero recoil. The big guy had a look of pure fury on his handsome face, dark and contorted as he glared at Nero. “It is not your place to tell him what he can and cannot do,” he snarled. “That job is mine and mine alone. He only need answer to me.” I could feel the Circle forming up around me, each person drawing closer to me, as if they thought the Council was going to attack. I was intriguingly amused by this.

“A fat lot of good that did,” Kammy snapped. “You told him to come back, but he ignored you! I heard it myself as I was leaving.”

“Oh dear,” Theresa sighed.

“And what was it all for?” Nero asked. “So you could go get your friend and bring him back to the Station?” He pointed his finger at Seven. “And because of you, two of our people are dead, frozen in their car while they watched this—this Normal!”

“What’s a Normal?” Jason asked haughtily.

“They were watching Jason at my request, yes,” Seven said, “and I will have to live with their deaths for the rest of my life. But they volunteered for the job, knowing it was in service of a greater good. They died knowing what they did meant something.”

Nero’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly did it mean? Are you above the Council, Seven Fortis, and know some divine purpose for this man that I do not? Why is he even in the chambers?”

“He is Circulus Custodum,” Seven snapped. “He has agreed to stand with us at the request of the Findo Unum. And since this is what Felix wants, it is what I want.”

Nero’s eyes bugged out of his head, and the rest of the Council stopped murmuring to each as they stared down at us. I watched each of them carefully, trying to find which of them was truly against us, if any. While none of them had the boiling-over rage that Nero seethed with, there was doubt in the majority of their eyes.

“There are only allowed to be seven,” Toren said, almost regretfully.

“Says who?” I asked.

“It’s as it has always been,” Nero said. “You have been nothing but disrespectful since you showed your face here and you are nothing more than a liability—”

“We will have only seven,” I said over him. “The seven you see beside the Iuratum Cor and myself are the Guardians Circle.”

“My daughter was already chosen,” Nero spat. “She is an Earth Elemental that has trained with the rest of them for years. What does this Normal have to offer?”

I didn’t drop my gaze. “He is my friend,” I said clearly. “And that is more than I can say for Kammy.” I glanced over at her in time to see the blood drain from her face. “This is not meant to be a slight to you,” I said honestly. “And this is not a decision I sought agreement on from the others. I made my choice because I needed someone I could trust. I don’t know you.” She glared at me, giving me no other response.

“And I’m sure it had nothing to do with the previous relationship between Seven and her?” Toren asked lightly.

I shrugged, but remained silent.

“She is an Elemental!” Nero shouted. “You replaced her with a Normal!”

“All four Elements are represented here,” Seven said. “I will back my heart sworn in this matter. And Jason is a cop; it’s not like he’s some civilian off the streets who can’t defend himself. What he doesn’t know he will learn. I plan to have him join Otis and Amy in their training.”

Jason looked surprised when Otis grinned at him and slammed his hand down on his shoulder. “We gonna have some fun!” Otis said, his eyes glittering dangerously. “I’ll teach ya to dodge fire.” Jason nodded, his eyes wide.

“This is highly unorthodox,” Theresa mused. “As far as we can tell, the Circulus Custodum has never been altered once it has been set. The only way members are changed is if one should die in the course of their duty.”

“Unorthodox doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Nero sputtered. “This is a travesty of epic proportions!”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, Nero,” Elaina said after conferring with her twin. “We’ve become so enraptured by the old ways that, of course, it’s shocking when change is mentioned. Maybe it’s time we look at it from another angle.”

“I’m inclined to agree with Nero on the matter,” Caleb said. “It’s always worked in the past, at least from what we’ve seen. What’s the point of changing the way things are now?”

“It hasn’t worked, though, has it?” Jason asked. Surprised, everyone turned and looked at him.

“Meaning?” Theresa asked.

“This thing you call the darkness always comes back,” he pointed out. “So obviously something isn’t working.”

The Council stared, dumbfounded, at this virtual stranger who had reduced their entire knowledge of the way the world worked into an almost vapid ideology. I grinned at Jason, and he winked at me before turning back to the Council. “I don’t know a whole lot about the way all of this works,” he said, “but I would think that if you wanted Felix to help you all out, you’d be kissing his ass, not trying to tear him down. What’s to stop him from telling you all no?”

“He’s the Findo Unum,” Nero sneered. “We are the Consilium Elementorum. He cannot tell us no.”

“Then you don’t know Felix at all,” Jason told Nero coldly. “If there’s one thing I think that should be taken away from this meeting, it’s that Felix doesn’t have to do a damn thing he doesn’t want to. What would you do if he just walked away from all this?”

“I understand the necessity to defend the Split One,” Kaila said, “but how far do you think he could run before the darkness finds him? There are only so many hiding places in the world. One day, and not far into the future, he will either have to lie down and be consumed or he’ll have to choose to fight back. It is his burden to carry.”

“But not alone,” Amy Star said. “I am a Normal and I am a Guardian. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been taught that while Felix is the only one with the power to stop what’s coming, he will never have to do it on his own. The Circulus Custodum is his to command, and we would lay down our lives for him should we be called upon to do so.”

“Yer damn right we would!” Otis thundered. “I’ll smash anything that tries to hurt little Felix!”

“We as Magisters will teach him all we can,” Edna said, as Dan rested his hand on her shoulders. “Felix has much to learn, but I know he has the aptitude for it.”

“And since none of them know how to work a computer,” Tick said, “they’re going to need us.”

“Not to mention our Elemental abilities and our stunning charisma,” Tock added.

“I may not know exactly what I’m agreeing to,” Jason said, “but I’ve known Felix longer than any of you. I would defend him with my life.”

“This,” Nero hissed, “was a mistake. As long as I still breathe, you will never be joined.”

I felt something gather around us then, as the Guardians finished their declarations. It felt old and warm as it wrapped around me. The flare in my chest burned brightly, and I wondered if the words I’d added to the plaque down in the Pavilion were on fire. For all their strengths and all their weaknesses, these people around me were ironclad in their beliefs.

But in the end, it was him I turned to.

Seven watched me with stormy eyes, lightning seeming to flash in the great horizon beyond the ocean, but there was a knowledge there, an ancient thing that stared back at me. I wondered if all the Split Ones before me had been able to see their heart sworns as I did at that moment. Seven was breathtaking. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine, the softness belying the true métier that lay buried just underneath the surface. I grinned at him then, and he bit my bottom lip gently, that low rumble in his chest vibrating up and into me. He reached up his hands and cupped my face. “Now this,” he said for only me, “this, I do for you.”

Seven turned and faced the Council. “Most of you have known me my whole life,” he said, the command in his voice resonating through the Council chambers. “I was told every day since I was six that I would have to be this person, this protector to someone I’d never even met. I was tired of being a Normal, I was scared that I was never going to get the chance to show who I really was. Then it was thrust upon me, and for a time I resented it. Who would like the idea of having their fate written for them? Every choice I made would be either guided or predetermined, all because of what I was supposed to be. I was angry and scared and sad and elated, but none of that mattered when I saw him for the first time.

“I told Felix that there would come a time when I knew he would have to trust me, even if he didn’t know who I was, even if he didn’t understand what I was to him. And he did. He’s been by my side for less than two days, but I can tell you he did. He doesn’t know me as well as I know him, but he will. He doesn’t know what he’s capable of, but I do. He doesn’t know fully what he means to me, but you’re damn right he’ll know. And I know you think he belongs to you, to all of you, to the people of this Station, to all the Elementals in the world, but he will never belong to any of you as much as he belongs to me. You may know what a Iuratum Cor is. You may know what it is to be Findo Unum. But you will never understand the bond between us, between him and me, between us and the Guardians. We are Circulus Custodum. We are heart sworn and Halved Mind. What we will never be is your pawns. You have decided who we would be now, but you will never decide what we will become. Felix is my heart. And I dare you to take that away from me.”

He finished then, letting his words sink into the Council, their eyes growing ever wider with each word from his mouth. Kammy flushed deeper and deeper, until I thought she was going to explode. I turned away from her and stared back up at the big guy next to me. Even though his words rang out tinted with anger, his face was calm, his demeanor relaxed. I knew this was because he believed the truth in what he’d said. I gripped his hand tighter and felt his thumb brush over my fingers.

Can you handle all of this? it asked. Between that little girl in the Pavilion who gave herself to you so freely, to the people—this Circle—that stand behind you, defending you to the people who could destroy them all, can you handle it? You mean something to them, whether you like it or not, whether you wanted to or not. And then there’s him. Did you hear his words? The promises that they held? Fate might have decreed you to be something that you’re not ready to be, but the future is never written in stone. We are never defined by what people expect us to be, but what we prove ourselves to be. Can you handle this?

“I will never agree to this,” Nero said as he stood. “This farce is over. I will not stand by and watch you destroy everything that we’ve built over the years.”

He was stopped in his tracks when Toren spoke: “It’s not just up to you, though, is it, Nero?” I could see Nero shaking in anger from where I stood.

“He’s right, of course,” Theresa said. “The point of the Council has always been to prevent the Elemental world from falling under a dictatorship. Nero, you may be the most knowledgeable of us, the most influential, but every single one of our votes counts the same as yours.”

“He will bring us to ruin,” Nero ground out. “When the world is drowning in fire, when all that you love is lost, remember that I gave you this moment to change the course of the future.”

“And it very well may go in that direction,” Kaila said. “Shouldn’t we give ourselves a chance to see what may come?”

“Then we will vote,” Theresa said. “All of those in favor of recognizing the Circulus Custodum, the Findo Unum, and his Iuratum Cor?”

An infinite pause.

“Aye,” said Elaina.

“Aye,” said Kaila.

“Nay,” said Caleb, averting his eyes.

“Aye,” said Toren.

“Aye,” said Theresa.

“You will all die,” said Nero.

“We shall see,” I said.

“The ayes have it, then,” Theresa said, her voice shaking. “Nero, will you lead us in the Iuramenta?”

“What’s that?” I heard Jason whisper.

“It means the Oaths,” Edna replied. “The Normals of the Circle will make a vow, as will the Elementals. Then Felix and Seven will finish it with the Joining—the Iunctura.”

Oh, Jesus. More fucking Latin.

“And then they’ll probably go upstairs and do it,” Tick whispered.

“Gross,” Tock whispered back.

“Shut up,” I whispered to them. They just grinned at me.

“No,” Nero said flatly. “When taking the Iuramenta, one should believe in its words. I have lost my belief this day.” He walked out the door, followed closely behind by Kammy. She looked back once, only once, and then she was gone.

Theresa sighed. “That man certainly knows how to make an exit,” she muttered. “Amy Star. Jason Taylor. Step forward, please.”

We made room for the two of them as they pushed forward. I could feel the nervousness radiating from Jason. As he walked by me, I reached up and grabbed his arm and spun him around. He let out a loud “oof” as I crushed him to me. I felt him grin as he reached up and cuffed my ear. “You don’t have to do this,” I said, sniffing.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, kissing my forehead sweetly. “Just remind me that I still have to quit my job.”

“You probably shouldn’t kiss Felix anymore, either,” Tick said. “Seven will probably try to punch your face off.”

“I dunno,” Tock said. “I bet Jason could take out his kneecaps.”

“I think you both should keep your mouths shut before I shut them for you,” Seven warned them.

Jason let go of me and followed Amy to stand before the dais. Amy looked vaguely amused, Jason vaguely ill. I thought they were going to be asked to repeat after Theresa phrases that would not have sounded out of place in a book about Orcs and giant walking trees. So I was startled, then, when she began to sing in a low and husky voice, the melody hesitantly familiar, the words obviously Latin and lyrical. Seven would later tell me that the words were essentially poignant drivel, the Council’s attempt to stand on ceremony. But even as he said this, I could see the glint in his eyes that showed he might not believe even his own words. The hymn (for that’s what it sounded like to me) echoed beautifully around the chambers until Theresa finished. The Council stood (even Caleb, looking rather ashamed of himself) and bowed at Jason and Amy. I was amused when Jason half bowed back, his hands crossed at his back.

The Iuramenta was repeated for the Elementals in the Circle, and the song sung for them was a variation of the first one but with a lower register, a slower beat. I wasn’t surprised, upon hearing the recitation, that it led to a Obligatorius of sorts, binding me to them completely and fully. I saw the air flow from Dan (who thought of his mother, Aisha, who had passed away years before and wondered if she would be proud of him if she could see him now), the fire curl from Edna (who thought of a man named Larry, a handsome man, a beautiful man, her only man but he was gone, gone, gone, and she didn’t know if he would ever be found). I saw the fire spark from Otis (whose mind might have been the most pure of all, where no real thoughts were formed, just pictures that flashed by in rapid succession: Seven, Felix, a dog, Addy (why does Jason keep calling him Addy?), a piece of pie, Seven, fire, guns, Seven), and the water and earth that shifted around Tick and Tock, who were already bound to me (Tick’s thoughts overrode his brother’s, thinking how cool this all was, how badass he probably looked, whether or not he could pull off a cape, worried that he would mess up somehow. Tock merely whispered and sighed, running concurrently with the thoughts of his brother, a breathy murmur that rumbled my bones), but now under oath. Their Elements swirled around me, and I released my own fire and air and the now familiar swirling dance took place before shooting toward the ceiling, where it disappeared.

And then Theresa called for me and Seven. He glanced down at me for a moment, his smile warm and trusting. I tried to smile back, but I think it came out more as a grimace. My heart pounded in my chest and my palms were slick with sweat, but Seven ignored these things as he led me up to the dais. The Council stared down at us, anticipation on some faces, smiles on others, and at least one look of trepidation. I looked down the line at the Consilium Elementorum and movement beyond Toren’s head caught my eye, buried in the dark hallway behind him. There was a flash of clothing, a scowl on a face, but I’d seen enough. Nero hadn’t left like I thought he had. He was watching us from the shadows. I straightened my posture and held my head high. If he was going to watch from the dark, then he wouldn’t see any doubt from me.

“You know why you are here,” Theresa said, a quiet tremble in her voice. “It has been almost three hundred years since the Findo Unum was joined with the Iuratum Cor. Beyond that, the Iunctura has only been performed a handful of times that we know of. This is truly a momentous occasion, a joyful occurrence. But it is also a call to arms. There is a great darkness rising from somewhere in the world, and every day it gets closer and closer. We, as the Council of Elements, have but a small part to play. But it is this part that brings me much happiness. I never thought I would live to see the day when the Split One and his heart sworn would stand before me. I am proud that I am able to perform this rite. But it is not without peril.

“What you both must understand is this: if there is even a sliver of doubt in your heart, a seed of disbelief, a discourse of any kind, then the Iunctura will fail. And should that happen, you will be torn from each other, never to see the other again. The Joining is much like the Binding, in that you will give yourself to your other half; however, it is also so much more. By Joining, you will become one, a half made whole. Pieces can only fit together if they were made to do so. You cannot hide your distrust from it, you cannot hide your disbelief in what you have with each other. To join is to be. And to be is to understand the true meaning of heart sworn. I will give you but one opportunity, one moment, to back away from this. If you cannot fully trust in your partner, then you will never have a chance to save us all.” She paused then, eyeing us both with silent wonder.

So, it whispered, clearly amused. A week ago, you were Atticus Vanesco, mild-mannered claims rep, living in a shitty apartment, only bringing out your fire once in a while to make sure you hadn’t dreamed it up for your whole life. A week ago, you didn’t know what your future held, you didn’t know what your past became. You just existed, hour by hour, day by day. And then he came. You are being offered something here, Felix, and doesn’t it almost sound like a wedding? That the Council is your priest and the chamber is your church, and you bow at the foot—
roots

—of your God—
the tree

—in Heaven and here on Earth. You are fire; you are wind. You are split and there is war, and the Tree warned you that split always means two. And here you are, the savior of the Elementals, where a little girl who knows only your name promises her life to you; where two teenage boys think you walk on water; where your best friend gave up his whole life at the drop of a hat so he could be by your side. And now the priest (Council) speaks of doubt, of hesitancy. Is there doubt in you, Felix? Is there resistance? Or… is there hope? Is there that feeling of his hand in yours, the way he stands next to you, strong and capable? It’s his scent you already know so well, it’s the way his big arms wrap around you when you are scared, when he is scared for you, that can see past that doubt. He has fought for you and he will fight for you until the last breath escapes from his body. You must remember that you are his heart; you must remember he is your heart. And above all, you must never forget that while you have each other, you will never be alone in this.

“Seven?” Theresa asked. “Do I have your oath as the Iuratum Cor, the heart sworn of this world, that you will put Felix above all else? That you will provide for him, protect him, watch over him as he faces what is to come?”

I turned to him then and found him watching me. When my eyes met his, the slow grin that formed on his face caused a warm burn to flow through my body. “Yes, Councilwoman,” he said, reaching up to brush my cheek with his thumb.

“Sumisne tibi cor eius?” Theresa asked. Do you take his heart as your own?

“Cor eius mihi sit,” Seven said. His heart is my own.

“And you,” Theresa said to me, “Findo Unum, Animo Dimidio, Unus Dimidiatus. You, Felix, do you recognize this man as your Iuratum Cor? As he is your protector, you are the keeper of his heart, the holder of his secrets and soul. You are not meant to save just the world; you are also meant to save him. The burden of the heart sworn is a heavy weight to carry, and the ground beneath your feet will be uneven and broken. Can you promise to carry this encumbrance if the time should call for it? Can you promise to put your faith in the one you now call home?”

It was like she had ripped every thought out of my head, every fear, every triumph, everything that I’d thought over the past few days. And even though I knew she recited this from memory, an oath that had to have been handed down from generation to generation, it was as if she had tailored this specifically to me, had read what was in my head and heart and put it into words. But then… then I knew; I knew that since this was recitation, words repeated as they’d been done before, that this is what every one of those before me must have felt. They all had looked into the eyes of their own heart sworns (had some known their other halves longer than me before the Joining occurred? had they only known them a few hours?), and while they might have been scared, they knew they stood before the ones they did for a reason. Whether they did it because they thought it was what they were supposed to do or if they did it because they knew it was what they were meant to do, it didn’t matter.

“Yes, Councilwoman,” I said.

“Sumisne tibi cor eius?”

“Cor eius mihi sit,” I replied.

There was a rush of wind then, as if the air around us had shifted and started spinning. Seven’s eyes widened as he gazed upward, feeling the current swirl up and around, kissing our fingers, our faces, our hair. Fire erupted from the ground and ignited the air, and the Circle cried out, but Theresa shouted at them to stay back. Seven reached out and grabbed my hand, and my eyes found his, and for a moment, a wave of fire passed in front of his face, and it looked as if his eyes were ablaze. I felt a rush of energy pulse through me, and I rocked my head back, and I could feel the cords on my neck standing out as I tensed and seized. My mouth dropped open in a yawning gape and fire poured out, liquid and smooth. It traveled down my chest to my arms. It hesitated, just for a moment, but then it passed from me to Seven. Once it touched his skin, I snapped forward in time to see his head rock back. The fire crawled up his body and entered his mouth, and I could see it through his skin as it slid down his throat. The wind roared around us, the fire roared around us, and then it shattered out of existence with a flash.

“Holy shit,” the Clock Twins gasped.

“You,” Theresa breathed. “You have passed.”

Seven leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. I felt him grinning against my face, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I knew we would,” he whispered against my lips. “I always knew.”

I heard the Circle cheering behind us, and I felt hands slapping my back, voices telling me congratulations. I think Tick told me he’d never been to a gay wedding before. I would have responded, but my eyes were drawn to that dark corner where Nero resided, his eyes ever watchful, his expression blank as his face seemed to be a mask.

“If,” I called out as the voices died around me, “you ever try to interfere with us again, I will see you barred from the Council.” Everyone went still, hearing the deadly warning in my voice. Seven’s grip on my hand tightened. “If you ever try to cause discord among the Circle again, I will see you banned from the Station. If you ever try to come between me and Seven again, I will kill you myself.”

Nero turned and left the room.

Chapter 9

The wind shows us how close to the edge we are.

—Joan Didion

EXCERPTS from the Presidential Press Conference held 11/07/14:

“Ladies and gentlemen, President Miller will be out momentarily. He will have a few short remarks and then will open the floor for a limited number of questions from the press. We are on a tight schedule, as I’m sure you are all aware, what with the recent midterm elections. President Miller will be scheduling a more in-depth address a few weeks down the road. Further details will be released once they are available.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America.”

“Good evening, my fellow Americans. By now, you have undoubtedly heard of the recent events that have taken place in Terra City. The attack on the Cantio Building on the fourth of November resulted in a significant loss of life: normal Americans such as yourselves working through their day on that Tuesday afternoon, unaware of what was to come.

“Investigations led by the FBI and the CIA have reviewed countless hours of security footage, interviewed hundreds of witnesses, and gathered evidence from the base of the Cantio Building to its rooftop. I was told this morning that while certain aspects of the timeline of November 4 are still unclear, what is clear is that there was Elemental involvement. While I will not condone any violence against Elementals, there is a clear threat to our nation’s security, and unfortunately, it is coming from within.

“I have spoken with other world leaders and have been informed other countries are proceeding with legislation similar to the Elemental Registration Act. Elemental violence has begun to spring up all over the world, making it necessary for these actions to be taken. While we believe in the freedom and rights of every man, woman, and child in this great country of ours, it is apparent that this growing threat must be curtailed before it rises.

“I am urging the House of Representatives to follow the Senate and pass the ERA. Should the House agree with the Senate and the ERA as a whole is passed by Congress, it will come to me for a final review. I have not said much on the ERA in the past, and for good reason: to be honest, I was indecisive on the matter. I’ve reviewed the ERA over and over and over again, and while I understood its necessity, I doubted its veracity. I do not doubt this anymore. Should the Elemental Registration Act reach my office, I will not act with indecision or hesitancy: I will sign the ERA into law for that is what it has come to.

“Violence for violence’s sake will never be tolerated in this country, nor should it be in any part of the world. We are a proud nation, an advanced nation, a nation that needs to set an example for the rest of the world to follow. I hope that we can do that by the ERA.

“I have spoken with the mayor of Terra City, Alex Sampson, who most of you know is one of the supporting architects of the ERA. He is greatly distraught at the onslaught on his city, and rightly so. He asked that I relay to the people of the United States that while there may be anger and resentment in Terra City, there is compassion there, and hope. Terra City is the biggest city in America for a reason: they pick themselves up, dust themselves off and move forward, finding ways to make the changes necessary to ensure their ways of life. I commend the people of Terra City and would have them know that the thoughts and prayers of a nation are with them tonight. I will be traveling to Terra City in the next few weeks to meet with Mayor Sampson and Governor Sullivan, and I hope to speak to you all again then.

“There is much that we still do not understand about the Elemental population. Scientists and geneticists have long believed the Elemental chromosome is passed down from mother and father to the child, much like your hair is brown or my eyes are green. We hope the ERA will allow us to get a definitive answer for this debated genetic equation, an answer that may even allow us to find a cure.

“I have heard the protests and the anger against the ERA. I know what it means. Regardless of what else the Elementals may be, they are still citizens of the United States and will be treated as such—within reason. Any Elemental who attempts to undermine the ERA, any Elemental who does not comply with its regulations, will be subjected to the fullest extent of the law. This transition period is meant to be orderly and calm for all those involved. America has always been seen as a leader and we will be seen as such again.

“I will now take any questions.”

“Mr. President, how do you respond to allegations that the ERA is nothing more than the right to ship off Elementals to internment camps, much like was done to the Japanese-Americans during World War II?”

“You’ll notice no one has used the word ‘camps’. We are not shipping anyone off anywhere.”

“Is camps too harsh a word, then? How about containment facilities? Prisons? I have sources that tell me that there are four government-funded facilities being built in four different states to house what are considered to be the more dangerous Elementals.”

“Pure fabrication. There are no prisons being built.”

“Mr. President, what exactly are the ‘scientific’ pursuits mentioned in the ERA bill? It is the only part of the bill that is not fully explained.”

“As I mentioned previously, we are hoping to understand the genetics behind the Elementals. We will be asking for volunteers to undergo genetic evaluations to see if we can isolate the Elemental chromosome. I’m told there may be other benefits to the science of the Elementals that will be discussed at a later time.”

“And what if you have no volunteers?”

“I don’t see that happening. I am sure there are Elementals who would want to help their countrymen. They will be adequately compensated for their contributions.”

“Mr. President, what do you know of the Elemental with dual abilities? Numerous eyewitnesses have confirmed seeing a man controlling both fire and wind.”

“I’m sure these people were mistaken. The chaos that ensued with multiple Elemental parties involved could very well have led to confusion at the Cantio Building.”

“These weren’t witnesses at the Cantio Building, Mr. President.”

“Oh?”

“These were people in their apartments on Seventh Street that saw two groups battling each other on the streets early in the morning on November 5, causing significant damage to vehicles, buildings, and the roadway. There was a large amount of blood at the scene, but so far no one can say for certain where any bodies may have been taken. In addition, there is the widely circulated cell phone video from the night before, showing an Elemental exhibiting both fire and wind abilities. Surely your office has been briefed on this by now.”

“I’m afraid that I know nothing—”

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, but that is all the President has time for. I’m sure you are all know how busy his schedule is. You can put any further questions through to the Press Secretary’s office and I’m sure you’ll get a response just as soon as possible.”

THAT press conference was just the beginning.

“MOST people think that fire is destruction,” Edna told me a few days later. “If the world is to end, the notion is that it would end in fire. But fire is also a sign of rebirth, a consummate beginning that leaves no doubt as to what it’s for. In order to master the fire, you must respect it, you must never abuse it. And above all, you must trust it because it is a part of you.”

I cocked my head at her, trying to pay attention, struggling with extreme boredom. Her voice echoed across the aptly named Training Grounds, a large room in one of the sub-basements far below the Station. The room itself was massive, easily the size of two football fields in either direction. Each corner of the room was specifically designed for the four types of Elementals: fire to the north (with its flame-retardant walls, its overhead computerized sprinkler system, its piles and piles of flammable objects), wind to the south (windows stretched along the southern corners, the ceiling opening up and rising at least one hundred feet in the air), earth to the east (the floor had been opened up, exposing the soil underneath, dark, moist dirt filled with flecks of clay), and water to the west (a gigantic pool fit firmly into the corner, its water dark and choppy). I walked in on that first day, ogling the expansive room, wondering just what else was hidden inside the Station. I would have gone exploring over the past couple of days, but Seven had decided for the both of us that we needed to stay on our floor, in our bed, for two days following the joining (the big guy had an extraordinary libido, one he felt he must share with me at least once every two hours. By the time we’d pulled ourselves from the third floor, I honestly doubted there was a single drop of liquid left in either of our bodies—not that I was complaining).

The man in question stood by my side, and I could hear the Circle in various parts of the room, huffing and laughing, the Clock Twins screeching various sounds I’m sure they heard on a twenty-four-hour AMC Bruce Lee marathon. It was easy to be distracted by the others and their daily regimens, but Edna and Dan expected me to focus on them and their oratorical ramblings on the history of fire and wind. Anytime I felt myself start to glaze over, Seven would nudge me gently, clearing his throat and rolling his eyes. Once, when my head began to nod to the side, he elbowed me in the ribs and told me the world was going to end if I didn’t pay attention. I swore at him under my breath and told him it was his fault for waking me up at three in the morning because he’d found the Gay Kama Sutra online and there was this certain position he wanted to try that involved me doing a hand stand while he mounted me from behind. This caused him to blush furiously and mumble dark things under his breath while the Magisters droned on and on, completely unaware that Seven and I were hard and desperate for a dark corner to go fuck around in.

“You have a great understanding of what you’re capable of,” Edna continued, “and you have exhibited a vast array of fire abilities. But they seem to only come out in times of extreme complete duress. While that has obviously saved your life a few times already, you need to be able to summon that strength within you at whim.”

I hated it because I knew she was right. When I’d first arrived that morning, she’d asked me to recreate the wall of flame with my mind like the one that had saved me from the assassin’s bullet. I concentrated and clenched the flare in my chest as hard as I could, but I only proceeded to shoot fire from my hands and light her pants on fire. Seven had snorted with laughter, struggling to contain his mirth behind his raised hands, but then Dan had lost it and laughed with a high-pitched giggle that I’d never have expected from him, and that ended the lesson for the five minutes that followed. I glared at Seven as tears streamed from his eyes, the smell of burnt clothing permeating the room as Edna uttered language quite unbefitting for a Magister.

Even though the weight of things felt light on my shoulders, there was a dark undercurrent buzzing through my head, composed of Nero’s face and President Miller’s words. I had not seen Nero since that day in the Chambers. Tick and Tock had found he’d sequestered himself to his floor. I had seen Kammy that morning in the Pavilion, where she resolutely ignored Seven and myself. I wish I could say I felt bad about it, but that oily jealous side of me howled in glee as I held Seven’s hand tightly in my own, watching her skirt around us, avoiding our eyes.

But it was the President and the ERA that was at the forefront of my mind. He’d all but publicly said that the Elementals were now considered a very real threat and that they would be treated as such. Part of me wanted to succumb to Nero’s words, that it was my fault that it was being expedited as it was, but I also knew that the ERA was created long before I knew what I was, and that while the actions of November 4 might have played a part in its predominance, it seemed to me that that day was being used as an excuse to garner support from its advocates. There had been more marches, more protests against Elementals, while those like me had stayed quiet, hiding and waiting. The mood around the Station seemed to have become somber, hesitant. Everyone still watched me with that same sense of awe (which I figured I would never get used to), but it was in a lower key than it had been in the days before. Then there was the fact that I’d been brought up in the press conference. I don’t think I’d ever been more chilled than I was when I heard my existence denied. Seven had wrapped his arms around me then as if he could chase away the words. I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that I had become a sort of urban legend in Terra City.

Certain parts of the Magisters’ lessons did stick with me, mixing in with the rest. I learned that Fire Elementals could create fire from their bodies, supposedly because the spirit and soul of every human burned brightly. (To be honest, though, I wondered how much of that was complete esoteric bullshit—I mean, really? My fiery soul? Come on.) Water Elementals could pull water from their bodies, but they ran the risk of dehydrating themselves and could potentially kill themselves in the process if they weren’t too careful (Tick chose that moment to tell me that he knew of a guy who had attempted to pull all the water from his body in a show of power—the guy ended up mummified, his body shriveled beyond recognition.) Wind Elementals could pull from the air around them, which made sense. Earth Elementals could be almost anywhere and could control their surroundings (after all, Tock grinned as he told me, everything from metal to concrete came from the earth). I also learned, though, that Earth Elementals are generally considered the weakest of the Elementals, as it takes too much energy in urban settings to be able to break the laws of gravity (Tock sniffed delicately at this and said that he wasn’t weak at all; I had to spend twenty minutes convincing him I thought that was true, all the while Tick was smiling gleefully in the background).

But there was the training to focus on. It was monotonous and tedious, even with Seven at my side. I watched as Dan took a sheet of notebook paper and stuck it on the wall about ten feet from me as Edna turned back to me. “You must learn control,” she said, for what seemed like the tenth time that hour. She pointed back toward the paper on the wall. “I want you to focus on the paper. I am going to ignite it slowly in the center, and I want you to keep the charring from reaching the edge of the paper. You are not allowed to use your hands; you are not allowed to draw any strength from Seven. I simply want you to use the flare inside you. All fire can be your fire, Felix; you just have to know it yourself.” With that, she flung a thin stream of fire from her hand, and it struck the paper, which burst immediately into flame.

I focused then, seeing the flare within me. I coiled my hands around it and breathed in and breathed out, like she’d taught me. I could hear Seven breathing beside me, and I could feel him next to me, and I knew I could draw from him if I chose to. Ever since the Iunctura, I could feel his strength, his heart beating, the synapses in his brain firing. It had disgusted me at first because I believed I was nothing more than a vampire, sucking the life out of my heart sworn. Seven had tried to reassure me that it didn’t hurt him, that he gave willingly and was strong enough to take it, but it still sent ice down my spine when I felt myself drawing the essence from him. My vision would grow more acute, my hearing would seem to increase, and the flare would explode within my chest, but there would be a little voice in my head begging me to stop. I told myself it was only part of me screaming for me to let go, not the voice in Seven’s head. It didn’t help that it made the sex cosmically empowering, like I could burn down the world if I needed to. I had asked Seven if he could do the same from me, pull part of me into him, and the grin he’d given me then was so beautiful, so complete, that I knew he could. That led to us getting distracted again. I don’t know how I was able to walk down to the Training Grounds after that.

The paper burned and started to curl outward, blackening and turning to ash. I can do this, I thought. I can do this because I have to do this. But then I thought of my mother and of our lessons from so long ago, and something burst in my chest, and I felt it ignite the wind in my mind, and then the paper on the wall exploded with a muffled flash. Flecks of burning ash rained down silently against the wall, becoming dark smudges on the ground. Seven rubbed my shoulders as I groaned. Edna had Dan put up another paper. And another one. And another one.

I can tell you I got really sick of seeing sheets of paper on that wall. They mocked me when they ignited, they laughed at me as they fell to the floor, the sooty smudges pointing at me, whispering that I would never be what they wanted me to be, I would never be a true Split One. Long after most everyone had left the Training Grounds, I stayed, burning through paper after paper. Seven had chosen to stay with me, and as the light started to wane with the setting sun, he replaced each of the papers without comment. He would pull out a lighter and light the middle of the page on fire and then step back, watching, waiting. Seven would never allow me to get too frustrated, and I could always feel the waves of calm pouring off him and washing over me. There would be a look, or a hand squeezing my shoulder, or his lips brushing against my cheek. But he was always there. When I was not longer able to hold myself up, when my mind was bordering on exhaustion, he would stop me, pulling me into his arms. There were times he had to carry me up to our floor; other times I could walk on my own. He would lay me gently down on our bed and strip my clothes off carefully, his hands wonderfully calloused against my skin. I would always seem to get a second wind, and he would fall on me with hungry eyes, and I would forget, at least for a short while, the frustration I could feel building inside of me, the anger at my inexcusable failings on the Training Grounds.

For seven days this went on. God, how I hated that piece of paper.

The anger continued to grow, sparking in the darkness.

My father came down on the afternoon of  the eighth day. I caught him out of the corner of my eye just as Edna was scolding me for not focusing yet again. I was about to roll my eyes at her when I saw him enter the Training Grounds, and whatever witty retort was bubbling up in my throat died a slow caustic death. Seven felt me tense from his place at my side and rubbed his paw over my back, the rumble in his chest ever present. “Do we need to take a break?” he asked me, eyeing my father thoughtfully.

“I haven’t really spoken to him since I’ve been here,” I said quietly. “We left things badly the last time we spoke.”

“Maybe it’s time to set things right.”

I looked up at Seven and shrugged. “I don’t really know what to say to him. I don’t even know if I’m mad at him or not, or even if I have any right to be.”

Seven leaned down and kissed my forehead while Edna and Dan squawked as another sheet of paper went up in flames. “Do you want me to be there with you?”

I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Don’t let me say anything stupid.”

Seven snorted but said nothing. I punched him in the arm.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” he called out to the Magisters, who were eyeing the ashy remains on the ground solemnly. “We’ll pick up again when Felix is ready.” He pushed carefully on my shoulders, pointing me toward my father.

Dad was watching us carefully, his eyes flat, his mouth a thin line on his face. He looked as if he’d aged ten years in the past few days. There were bags under his eyes, and his clothes were disheveled. His normally perfectly coiffed hair stuck out in odd directions, the stubble on his face dirty and gray. Part of me wanted to run across the room and jump into his arms and have him hold me, tell me everything was going to be all right. A darker part of me wanted to catch his eye coldly as I walked past him and out the door. This man had hidden me for years, had done what he thought he should do in order to keep me safe. I knew now it was not because he felt that I couldn’t handle the ways of the world, but because of out-of-date doctrines imposed by a Council drowning in their own traditions. I remembered how he’d attempted to defend me against Nero the first night here at the Station. I am still his father, he’d said. Regardless of what he is now, regardless of what he will be, my role in his life will never change.

Did I believe that? I don’t know. The role of protector and guardian had passed from him to Seven and the Circle. He was not an Elemental, he was not a trained warrior. He would not be able to fight against whatever the future held. But even as I thought that, I saw the strength in his posture, the determined set of his mouth. I thought that even though he was not any of those things, he would still die fighting for what he believed in. How difficult must it be for any father to have to give their child to their fate? You raise your children knowing that one day they are supposed to be more than what you let them believe. How must that knowledge have weighed on him? I wondered if there were nights after the fire when he’d lain awake at night, wishing that things could be different, hoping that things would not continue to be as they were. Much like I don’t think he could have ever understood my place in the Elemental world, I don’t think I could have ever understood what it meant to be a father. The chemicals in your body told you that you would love someone unconditionally, that you helped to create what they were. Is that something that’s possible to fight against?

Sort of like you and Seven, it whispered gleefully. How can you doubt him when you can’t doubt your father’s belief?

I don’t doubt Seven, I thought. If I did, the Joining would have failed.

We both know there’s more than one way for doubt to take root. Just because you passed an archaic ritual doesn’t mean you truly understand what you are yet, or even what Seven is to you yet. But you’re getting close, aren’t you? It’s there, just under the surface, locked in a box that only you hold the key to. Name it and it could be yours.

It’s only been a few days! I argued. It’s not possible to feel anything that quickly.

And yet, I bet the moment you were born and your father held you in his arms for the first time, it was exactly that. He looked down at the tiny wrinkled bundle in his hands and thought to himself there was never anything more perfect than you. Imagine, then, if you will, Seven’s position. He had to wait twenty-five years. Chemical, biological, natural: does it really matter?

“What’s done is done and can’t be undone,” I muttered. Seven stared down at me quizzically.

Exactly, it agreed. So man up, Felix, Addy, Findo Unum that was.

“Felix,” my dad said as we reached him.

“Dad,” I allowed.

“Did you know that men are six times more likely to get struck by lightning than women?” he asked me. His words were quiet, guarded.

“A single poison arrow frog has enough poison to kill twenty-two hundred people,” I replied.

Seven stared at us both like we were nuts.

“Apples are more sufficient at keeping people awake in the mornings than caffeine,” he said sternly.

“That’s an outrageous lie,” I growled. “Fingernails grow four times faster than toenails.”

“The opposite sides of a dice always add up to seven,” he retorted.

“Kismet or blue-car syndrome?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” my father asked.

“A giraffe has a twenty-one inch tongue and can clean its own ears,” Seven said. My father and I turned to stare at him. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably as he blushed. “I know things too,” he muttered.

“You hung around my dad too much before I got here,” I accused him.

Seven rolled his eyes. “I can read too, you know.”

“And you read about giraffes?”

“Maybe I like them,” he said defensively.

“You are so weird,” I told him before turning back to my father. I couldn’t help but notice Seven’s hand as it protectively gripped the shirt bunched up around my waist. “What’s going on, Dad?”

He shrugged. “I just wanted to see how you’re getting on down here. It’s quite a sight to see the entire Circulus Custodum working together.”

I glanced back over my shoulder in time to see Tock arch his hands up toward the ceiling. The ground beneath Otis shifted, and a solid column of rock burst from the dirt and launched him into the air. Otis roared with laughter as he shot fire from his hands, igniting and destroying the human-shaped targets set up on the other side of the room. Before Otis could hit the ground, Dan twitched his fingers and a strong draft slid underneath him, breaking his fall and setting him gently on the ground. Jason began to grin excitedly, asking when it was his turn.

“It is something,” I agreed darkly. “Now if only I could keep the damn paper from burning up, we’d be able to save the world.”

“You’ll get there,” Seven said.

“Or maybe the darkness is a gigantic sheet of paper,” my dad said. “Wouldn’t that make things so much easier?”

“Way easier. So, Dad, how’s working for the Department of Defense going? Stolen any schematics lately?”

He flinched ever so subtly. “I see you’ve been told some things,” he said slowly, looking at Seven with no recrimination in his eyes. “I hope you see why this had to be kept secret.”

I shrugged. “I’m learning a lot of things were kept secret.”

“Felix,” Seven warned.

“What?” I said, annoyed. “He’s a grown man. He can take it.”

“That doesn’t mean he should. He’s still your father. Show him some respect.”

I swore at the both of them under my breath as my father watched us with cool amusement. “Seven,” he said, “I’m wondering if you could give me a moment alone with my son.”

Seven didn’t growl or sputter like I thought he would. I didn’t know whether to thank him or hit him. The big guy just watched me, waiting for my decision. I sighed and nodded, wanting to get whatever was about to happen over with. I felt the sudden need to burn through all the paper I could as quickly as possible. Seven leaned down and kissed me sweetly. “You call me if you need me,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m going to go show Jason how to shoot a gun.”

“Make sure you don’t tell him that,” I smiled. “I don’t want you guys to go all gunslinger on each other.”

“I would win,” Seven scoffed before turning back to my father. “He’s had a rough few days,” he said to him. “Go easy, the both of you. Don’t say anything that you’ll end up regretting later.” He kissed me again and then walked toward the Circle.

“So what do you think of him?” my father asked quietly as we both watched Seven walk away.

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” I said truthfully, even as I cursed myself for speaking the words aloud.

“I didn’t think it would be, Felix. But obviously you feel something if you’re here.”

“Maybe.” I didn’t want to give him more than that; instead, I wanted to see what was on his mind. It wasn’t easy for me to stand in front of my father and not throttle the hell out of him. I watched Seven as he said something to Jason, who immediately scowled and pulled out his gun. I rolled my eyes. Boys.

“You’re still mad, huh?” my dad said quietly.

I sighed. “I don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes it seems like I am. Other times I think I can almost understand all the reasons you had for what you did. It wasn’t just you, I know. I know there were rules and laws and other bullshit, but it….” I trailed off.

“What?” he pushed.

I shrugged. “Can you imagine what it was like for me hearing from Seven that you’d known him for years? That you’d known about this place? These people? I was lonely, Dad, even with you and Jason around all those years. Even I knew something was missing, and to have you… to have you know about all of this. I don’t know. It burns. It just fucking burns.” The last part came out sounding more bitter than I’d meant it to.

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know how many more times I can tell you it was for your own protection.”

I glared at him. “You still don’t think I could have been brought here? Jesus, no one would have needed to tell me that Seven was here. At least I would have been around people who were like me. I spent almost my entire life thinking that I was a freak, that I was different.”

“You are,” he pointed out.

“I’m not talking about the Findo Unum bullshit. I’m talking about being surrounded by other Elementals, people who could understand what I was going through. And don’t you think it’s smarter for someone like me to have all this training earlier? I’m almost twenty-five years old! There’re kids in this Station who know more about what they can do than I can! Where the hell is the logic in that?”

“I don’t disagree with you, Felix,” my dad said harshly. “Don’t you think I wanted to bring you here? I knew this could be a shelter for you, for us. But I wasn’t allowed. Nero….” He stopped then, and I could see that he felt he’d said too much.

“Dad, how do you know Nero?” I asked quietly.

His eyes darted to the Circle behind us. “From the Council,” he said, and I knew he was lying. My father was never one for lies; concealing the truth and being flat-out disingenuous were two different things. I knew he kept things from me regarding his work, regarding my mother, but I never thought he would lie to my face. I wondered who I could really trust now. The majority of the Council seemed to be on my side, but I knew from Seven’s story that they all had their own secrets. Nero was the worst of them. The Circulus Custodum was made up of people that were supposed to protect me, but how well did I really know any of them? I’d known Jason almost my whole life, true, but what about the rest? Seven tried to crowd his way into my thoughts, but I pushed the big guy away. I couldn’t focus on him. I couldn’t lump him in with the rest. The thought of him was enough to make my hormones take off; I was too jumbled to sort him out from the rest.

So that’s what you call it, it chuckled. Jumbled. That’s… interesting.

Shut up.

“You know,” I said, smiling quietly as Otis shot a bright arc of fire that Tock deflected with a rock wall, “there will come a time when all will be out in the open. Whatever you and the Council are hiding from me, whatever Seven feels I’m not ready to know, I will find out. You all don’t realize that you’ve all but given me the key to unlock everything. It’s only a matter of time.” I turned back to my father. “I would think that you would want me to know now before I find out on my own.”

“You are my son,” Dad said sternly, “and I will do everything I can—”

I waved him off. “To protect me. I know.” I paused, considering. Then, “Did you know about the prophecy?”

The stunned flicker across his face told me that he did. “How did you—”

I smiled at him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Great-grandma, huh? Did you know her?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. “She died when I was very young. I don’t remember anything about her.”

“But you knew what she said?”

He closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Did Mom?”

Pause. “Yes.”

“And that’s why she… did what she did.” It was starting to make more sense in my head. I wished it wouldn’t. Then a thought came to me, a thought that snaked its way around my head and whispered sweetly in my ears. I hated it. I hated it with all my heart, but I had to ask. “Nero told you, didn’t he?”

My father’s eyes snapped open, and he took in a ragged breath. “Three days after you were born.”

“How did he know about me?”

My father shook his head. “Enough,” he ground out. “This is not what you are supposed to be focusing on. You are supposed to be training. You are supposed to become what you’re meant to be. You are not supposed to focus on the past. The past is dead. It burned to the ground that night, and by God, that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

I cocked my head at him. “What would you have told me?”

“When?”

“When you showed me the Suppressor. You told me that you would tell me everything if I gave you two weeks. You told me I would know everything I asked.”

He cracked his knuckles. “I would have told you about this place,” he said quietly. “I would have told you about Seven and of the Findo Unum.”

“And that’s it?”

“What else is there?”

I stepped up to him and put my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly to me. I leaned over, and he shuddered as my breath slid over his neck. His arms stayed at his side. “You’re lying to me.”

“No.”

I hugged him tighter. “You are, and I’ll be damned if I know why.” That thought flicked in my ear again, and my skin crawled. “What does Nero have on you, Dad?” Because he does have something. I know he does. I can see it in your eyes.

“I’m trying to—”

My hands felt hot. “Tell me.” And you will tell me. You will tell me because I asked. I am Findo Unum. I am Split and you will tell me.

He knows something, a dark voice whispered. He’s lied to you since you were born. He knows the shape of the world. Wring the truth out of him. Burn it out if you have to. It’s the only way people like him will talk. You have the power to make him talk. Do it.

“Felix, you’re hurting me—”

Do it.

“Tell me.”

Do it!

His arm caught fire. He jerked back and frantically beat down the flames. I stared, slack-jawed, as his hands blackened with soot, as pieces of his jacket fell off onto the floor. He stomped the flame out as the black smoke curled up around his feet. I heard the Circle go quiet behind us. Seven’s footsteps echoed across the Training Grounds as he ran over to us. My father held up his hand to warn him off. I stared down at the charred remains of his jacket sleeve on the floor. I was angry and embarrassed. I hated him. I hated all of them. I wanted to run. I was going to run. I was going to run and burn everything down around me, if I had to, to get away. If they tried to stop me, if anyone got in my way, I would make them move. I could do it. I knew I could. I created this. I created this and I can do it anytime I want. For a startlingly blind moment, I remembered the voice I’d heard in my head all those years ago, when I had faced my mother: Burn her, it’d said. Burn her. It was the same one who’d just told me to burn my father.

“You can’t even tell,” I told him quietly, unsure of why I was saying it. “Even after all this time, you still can’t tell.”

“What?” he asked.

“The surgery. The plastic surgery you had after we ran. You changed your face, the way you wore your hair. You lost weight. You dressed differently. You changed yourself because Mom’s people knew what you looked like. I wondered over the last few days how you were able to get a job with the DOD. I know how easy it would be to fake the background. But they would have known what you looked like. You were hiding in plain sight, and they didn’t even know it. I don’t even remember what you looked like before. Do you?”

“I remember everything,” my dad said sadly.

“Do they know?” I nodded at the Circle behind me. I could hear Seven pacing, growling and gnashing his teeth, fighting the urge to run over to me, to shield me from whatever. I could feel his anger at not knowing what was happening, his anguish at not being able to touch me. “Do they know what happened after we left that night? Do they know what you told me about her?”

He closed his eyes. “Seven knows,” he whispered. “No one else.”

“You told me once that her people were everywhere. That even though she was gone, what she stood for was not.”

“They still are,” he said angrily. “You can act like the petulant child all you want, but if I had to do it all over, if I had to go through everything again, I would make the same decisions. I would do everything exactly as it was done before.”

That dark voice returned: He lies, just like the rest of them. See how he mocks you? He just told you you’re nothing more than a child to him. He doesn’t think you are capable of anything. You’re just a burden he’s had to carry. He couldn’t wait to pawn you off to these other people, these people who are staring at you like you’re nothing. Because to them, you are nothing. They think they control you, they think they know what’s best for you. You’re Felix Paracel, you’re split, your mind is split, and you can’t be trusted.

My eyes narrowed as I listened to the black voice. Something was rising in me, something primal and basic, dark and bubbly. “This is my life we’re talking about!” I shouted at him. “All of you think you can tell me what to do, who I am supposed to be, but this is my fucking life!”

Seven could take it no more. He charged over to me and pressed himself against my back, circling his arms around me, clutching me tightly. “Felix,” he whispered harshly in my ear. “Look at me.”

“Let me go!” I snarled at him, fighting against his hold.

“Look at me.”

I did, tilting my head back, finding the ocean staring back at me. I couldn’t explain to him the black oil that was curling inside me, igniting the flare until it burned all around and through me. I couldn’t explain to him how it rose up in me, and I could feel it like bile at the back of my throat. It rose past my eyes and my vision tunneled. It swirled around my head, and the voice of my conscience screamed out in warning, telling me no, no, no, but then it was sucked into the depths. I couldn’t tell him any of that. I was petrified, angrier then I’d ever been, and at what? I had almost burned my father, for Christ’s sake. But why did I still feel it there? Why was it still roaring through me, biting and clawing about my insides? I wanted to burn things. I wanted to light the whole goddamn world on fire.

Show them they can’t keep secrets from me, I thought wildly. Show them I can burn away all the hiding places so nothing can disappear into shadow. I can do this, and they can’t fucking stop me. They think they know what’s best for me? Who the fuck do they think they are? They cower at me, they hide behind me, telling me how I am their chosen one, how I am supposed to save the world from the darkness. Maybe I am the fucking darkness. Wouldn’t that just be a twist that no one saw coming? Or maybe they all know that too. Maybe that’s why there is a Guardians Circle. They aren’t guarding me from anyone. They’re guarding everyone from me. And maybe… maybe that’s why Seven won’t let me out of his sight. Maybe he’s scared of what I can do. He knows better than anyone. Maybe he knows what I can do to this world. He doesn’t care about me. He’s scared of me. He was told he would have to stop me from becoming what I was to become. He knows I am corrupt, he knows that the prophecy is true. Didn’t he say so himself? Didn’t he say that he wouldn’t let that happen? Because he knows what I can become. And all of this, oh my God, all of this is because of the Tree. The Tree told me there are two. There are always two because it is Split, because I am Split. The battle is done because there is war, and not against anyone or anything from the outside; no, it comes from within me. I can do this. I can do this. It would be so easy. Maybe this is what I am. Maybe this is Findo Unum. I am the Bringer of Darkness. I am the Destroyer of Worlds. They all knew. They all knew!

Of course they did, the oil chuckled. How could you think otherwise? You might have been fooled, but you aren’t stupid. You aren’t weak like they all think you are. And against my better judgment, I let you be joined with one of them, the one who can save you! it said mockingly. Oh, Seven, you’re my hero, you are my heart sworn and I love you. Oh love, oh lovely, lovely, Seven. You think he will help you? He is nothing. They are nothing. It’s time you find that out now. This is how we burn.

No, I heard in my head, and the blackness parted and a light burst through, and the flare within me exploded, chasing away shadow and oil. It cringed away from the strength in the new voice, growling and shrieking as it receded. No, it said again, and I knew it was him, I knew it was the man who was shielding me from the rest (or shielding them from you? the oil bubbled out as it fled), this man, this big guy who was pushing himself into my head. Fight it, Seven whispered. Fight it and come back to me. This is not what you are. This is not who you are.

Yet, the blackness said before it slept. Yet.

Something shorted out in my head, and I sagged in Seven’s arms, gasping in air like I hadn’t breathed in years. Everything grew brighter around me, and I could feel his strength as he held me. He whispered sweet blurry words in my ear, and I could still hear him in my head saying, it’s okay and I’m right here. I struggled briefly against him, but Seven kept me tethered to him as I came back into myself. I couldn’t believe the thoughts I’d had. I couldn’t believe I could ever think such things. I would have burned my father. I would have burned them all. Oh, Jesus, I could have burned Seven. The black feeling was gone. The overwhelming sense of wrong was gone. All that was left was him.

“Seven,” I croaked out as I cowered against him. “What’s happening to me?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said roughly, squeezing me into his chest and laying his chin on my head. “I’m not going anywhere, little man.”

I clutched at him while I heard him say to the rest: “We’re leaving. There’s something I have to show Felix. We’ll be gone for a few days. When we come back, the training can resume.”

I thought I was going to be okay. I thought I had control of myself. But it was lost when I felt the hands of the Circle touch my back gently, one by one. I could hear their thoughts, and it was like each of them could set fire to the dark.

Jason: I would be lost without you.

Otis: Oh, little Felix. You. You are here. We are here. We are together.

Amy: You will never fall. I will never let you fall.

Edna: Fire is death and destruction. But fire is also life and rebirth. You are life.

Dan: Winds come and go. We will always stay. This is the shape of things.

Tick/Tock: We will always be. This is how we protect the world.

I shook in Seven’s arms as I felt my father’s hand last, rubbing slow circles on my back. I could smell the charred remains of his clothes, but he still came to me. “You are my son,” he said. “That will never change.”

Seven quickly and quietly led me away.

I GUESS I shouldn’t have been surprised when we drove to an airfield about twenty minutes from the Station and Seven showed me he had a plane.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, staring up at the Airbus A320 sitting on the runway, the pilot waiting with a wide grin on his face as we walked out of the hanger. “Maybe I should have asked this days ago, but why exactly do you have so much money?”

Seven shrugged. “My grandparents left it to my parents and they left it to me.”

“That’s not answering the question,” I said as the pilot shook my hand, his eyes almost rolling back in his head as our hands touched. “How did your grandfather get it?”

“He made some smart investments,” Seven said as he pushed me up the stairs. The inside of the plane opened to a wide area with a conference table in the middle, leather recliners on all sides, a bedroom toward the back. I swear to God, I even saw a bathroom with a full working shower.

“You know,” I told him, “this whole speaking in vague circles thing gets really old really fast.” I could feel anger starting to rise in me again.

He grinned at me. “We have to keep the spark alive somehow, right? Can’t have you figuring out everything so quickly. What will we have to talk about forty years from now?”

If you’re alive that long, it whispered. I froze imperceptibly as the voice in my head sounded as it was gargling oil as it spoke. If Seven lets you live that long.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He looked out the window as the plane began to move away from the hanger and taxi down the runway. The sun poured in through the window and hit his face, reflecting off his beard, making it seem like it was on fire. The oil tried to speak again, but I pushed it away. It scared me, this new side of my consciousness I felt ripping through me. I could keep it at bay, it seemed, or at least I could shove it down to where it was merely a whisper against all the other noise in my head. I wondered how much Seven had to do with that. If he could feel it within me, drips of my inner flare splashing down into it, creating ripples of fire that chilled me. He knew so much that he wasn’t telling me. He knew too much about me already. It still seemed like I knew nothing about him.

He sighed. “I was going to wait until your birthday next month to show you this, but it seemed like a good time to get away for a while.” He glanced over at me, studying my schooled face. “You need a break every now and then. You can’t keep going at full throttle all the time, Felix. There’s got to be some time away from everything.”

“Wouldn’t that just be hilarious if the darkness chose to come while we were gone?” I muttered.

He shook his head and sat back in his seat as the plane picked up speed. I sank down into my seat and felt the force of the takeoff press me back. My ears popped unpleasantly, and I stretched my jaw. I felt Seven slide his hand into mine as we lifted into the air, leaving the Station behind, leaving the Circle behind, leaving my father behind. The Council was back there. The statue in remembrance of the attack was back there. That little girl, Alice, was back there. I felt a release in my chest as we rose higher and higher into the sky. None of the anxiety I would have normally felt at being up so high was present. All I remember feeling was his hand in mine, that strong grip the big guy always seemed to have. It wasn’t until we were halfway through the flight that I saw we were chasing the sun.

West, I thought. We’re going west.

WE LANDED six hours later in the late afternoon. I stepped off the plane and felt a change in the air: it felt crisper and cleaner. Douglas fir trees surrounded the small airfield we had landed in. The air felt cool against my heated skin. I watched as Seven was handed two overnight bags that he shoved into the back of a waiting car. I looked to the north and saw mountains, familiar and clear, their snowcaps floating like a dream.

“Seven,” I said in a low voice. “Are we in Oregon?”

He closed the trunk of the car and walked toward me, his eyes on mine, his expression calm and collected. “Yeah, little man. We are.”

“Near Damascus?”

He nodded. “About thirty miles away.”

“What have you done?”

Nothing, something said.

Everything, came the reply.

“What I thought was right,” he said as he led me to the car. He walked around the back and climbed into the driver’s seat. I crossed my arms and glared at him, pushing myself as far away from him as I could. He started the car without another word and we drove for miles.

WE DROVE through the town of Damascus: past the kindergarten I had attended, past the grocery store we had shopped at. I saw the library, looking run-down and shuttered. I saw the thrift store and the people in it, browsing and laughing. I saw a park with a swing set that looked like it had never changed.

The trees bent as a wind began to blow after us. They beckoned me, their arms waving as they said, Here you are, here you are, Felix. How we’ve missed you. We wanted you home so bad. Welcome back, please don’t run from us again. We can’t stand it, we just can’t stand it when you leave. They swayed and groaned, and it was like I’d never left.

We came to a road, a darkened road that disappeared into the forest that had only changed in its age. The green called to me, the trees called to me, but I was frightened, I was angry. How dare he bring me here? How dare he think he could do this to me? After what happened with my father only hours before? After what had happened here years ago? How dare he?

Seven signaled, and we turned down that dark road, that road that I had last seen the night my mother had died. I rolled down the window, not bothering to hide that fact that I was waiting for a smell of burning wood to waft into the car, a reminder of what I had done. Or maybe I thought it still burned. Maybe the fire of righteous indignation never burned out. Burn her, it had said to me, that same voice that told me the Circle was only there to protect others from me, that Seven was only here to find a way to stop me. Burn her because she would burn you. She wants to take you away from here, away from your home, away from your father. Burn her because you can, because you can do it anytime you want to. The Tree knows nothing, they all know nothing. Burn her.

Seven stopped the car and I opened my eyes, expecting to see the worst: the charred skeletal remains of the house I had once called a home reaching toward the dusk-filled sky, wailing silently. I used to be such a big house, it would moan. I used to be big and alive and filled with people and family and life and love and laughter. I would get out of the car, and it would cringe in fear. I would hear the shifting of blackened wood, and my mother would rise from the remains of the cellar. She would rise, and she would point at me and scream and scream and scream, and Seven would hold me down, and she would take me away from him. She would take me away to those machines that would sound as if they were alive. I was no longer nine, but my imagination flew wildly, and for a moment, I believed I’d seen just that, my mother and the charred remains of a house that stood like a dark memorial. Then I felt his hand rest upon mine again, and my vision cleared.

There was no blackened hell, no burnt woman coming to claim me. Where our house had been rested a beautiful green field, empty except for long grass that waved through a gentle breeze. I looked for any signs of what had occurred here so long ago and saw none. It was as if everything that had happened had been a dream, like my memories were nothing more than a nightmare that I was finally waking up from. I felt Seven pull my hand to his lips, and he breathed against my knuckles gently as he pressed a kiss to my fingers. I shivered at his touch.

How can you doubt him? my conscience asked, sounding clear of anything that could choke it. What you have been thinking is not you. It is not him. You know this, Felix. You have to know this. This man, this Seven, has spent his whole life searching for you. He had to leave you behind that night, and he swore he would never do it again. You were joined with him, and the old lady said there could be no doubt. It did not fail. He did not fail you. How can you think he would now?

“Seven,” I muttered. “Why are we here?”

“Get out of the car,” he said quietly. He waited until I moved and then did the same. My legs felt shaky upon the ground, and I rested my hand upon the hood of the car to support me. He came around the front and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me close. I grasped at the back of him, feeling my heart racing in my chest, my breath inhaling and exhaling rapidly. He was warm and solid and smelled like he did the last time we’d been here. That night he’d come for me. Always remember, little man: you are not alone in this.

“You needed to see what this place had become,” he said quietly, his chin resting on my head. “You needed to see that this was no longer a place for you to run from. Horrible things happened here, and I know I can never take those memories away from you. I know I will never have the words to make what happened that night any easier for you. But if the past week has taught me anything, it’s that while I can’t change the past, I have a hand at shaping the future.” He pulled back from my embrace and leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. His hand came up and cupped the back of my head. I stared into the calm ocean and saw myself reflected back on the waves. “You have a block,” he said, “in your head. It’s why you’re having such a hard time on the Training Grounds. It’s why you’re so quick to anger. We’ve only known each other physically a short while, but you forget that I’ve known you your whole life. I am your Iuratum Cor, Felix, and you are my heart.”

I felt tears slide down my cheek that he brushed away with his thumbs. “I don’t deserve this,” I whispered to him. “How can I be something to so many people when I don’t even know who I am to myself?”

He smiled quietly. “That’s why we’re here, Felix. I know who you are. I’ve always known who you were. But you need to figure that out for yourself. I can tell you what I see in you until the world ends, but it still wouldn’t matter.”

“I don’t mean it to be like that,” I said, averting my eyes.

He grabbed my chin and pulled me back to the ocean. “I know you don’t. I don’t think any less of you because of it, little man. This was never just about me, or the Circle, or anyone else. It is about you, and what you are capable of. I don’t just mean as the Findo Unum, either. You’ve been through so much and yet you still wake up every morning. You know what is expected of you and yet you still fight and fight and fight. That is who you are. You are Felix Paracel, and you may be the Split One, and you may be the Halved Mind, but you are whole and alive, and I couldn’t ask for any more than that. I don’t care about the damn paper at the Training Grounds. I don’t care about what’s coming, whatever it may be.” He took in a deep breath. “And I don’t care about the fucking prophecy. I don’t care if you think that you are the darkness or if you feel that blackness rising up inside of you. I will stand by your side, and I will fight with you and for you. But I will never fight against you. I will never let it come to that. And I can promise you this: no one will take you away from me, no matter what the cost.”

I struggled in his arms, trying to get away, trying to run from his words. “You can’t say that!” I shouted at him. “You can’t just fucking say that you’ll give all them up! It’s wrong, Seven. You’ve spent your whole life building up to protect these people and now you’re saying you’ll let them go like they were nothing? That’s bullshit, Seven, and you know it. You can’t do that. I won’t let you.”

His eyes flashed. “I’ve spent my whole life waiting for you, Felix. Without you, there is nothing left for me here in this world.”

I pushed away from him, and he let his arms drop to his side. “Only because you were told to feel this way! Every day for your entire life you were told you were supposed to feel for me, to protect me. Not once were you ever given a choice in the matter!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about choices,” he growled. “I could have easily chosen to walk away from this. I could have easily chosen to forget you ever even existed. But I didn’t. And I won’t. Ever.”

I paced in front of him, sneering at his words, wishing he wouldn’t say them, wishing he would go away. “Why?” I snarled. “Why do you fucking care? So you think you know me. So you’ve watched me for years. So you think you’re my heart sworn. It means nothing if I can’t do what I’m supposed to do! It means nothing if I’m supposed to destroy everything! I won’t have you become a martyr because you’ve convinced yourself to the point of obsession that I need you. I don’t need you, goddamn you. I don’t need any of you!”

He took in a ragged breath. “But what if I need you?” he asked simply, and it was enough to stop me cold. I remembered his words about his insanity. I remembered Theresa’s words at the Joining about needing to help carry his burden. Maybe this was what the Tree meant. I was Split, yes, but there were always two. Maybe Seven was split as well, in his mind and heart. I thought again of the long years before, the obsession that had followed, the fine cracks that appeared along his sanity. The need to build himself up led to the tearing down of the walls in his mind. He was singularly focused, even more so after the attack on the Station. And now that he thought he had me? I was pushing him away. Something black was building up in my head and body, and I was pushing away the one person who could shine a light through all that night.

“Why are we here?” I asked him again tiredly.

“I bought the land,” Seven said quietly. He looked at the field where the house had been. The grasses still swayed, the trees still sang to me. “Years ago I saw it come up for sale, and so I bought it. I… I didn’t know why at the time. It just seemed like a good idea, I guess. But I know I bought it for you. I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else owning this place. Not after what happened here.”

I let that settle in my head before I whispered, “You knew I would need to come back here. Someday you knew I would need to see this place again. How? How do you know these things? How can you know everything?”

Seven stepped toward me and reached up, his hand rough against my face, the ocean low and calm. I was surprised when I let him. I was surprised yet again when he felt like home. You can’t fight this, it whispered. You can’t. You just can’t.

“Because,” he said, “you belong to me. I know everything because I know you.” I could see it then, those words still lurking beyond his lips, trembling and crying to be said. Those words that everyone longs to hear at some point in their lives. I longed to hear them myself, but it wasn’t right, it wasn’t time, and he must have seen the warning in my eyes because he bit back the rest. It didn’t stop it from shining out from his eyes, and he pulled me to him again and his lips were against mine and I let him hold me, I let him touch me. He gave and I took. I wondered if I was strong enough to give anything back, but there came a moment a little later, when my arms were around him and I felt the tremors in his body cease, and he sighed into my mouth as he relaxed, and I knew that it was possible.

That night, he laid me down on a blanket in the grass, and I looked up at him. His head was haloed by the stars that shone down from above. There was a pinch, then pressure, and then he rocked against me, his hips pressed all the way against mine, and he was bigger than those stars, bigger than the world. I clung to him as I shook and called his name, the deep pleasure rolling over me in crashing waves. Me and Seven, I thought as I arched my back. Me and Seven, that’s all there is. That’s all there needs to be. He kissed me sweetly as his hips rolled forward, and his breath became fire in my mouth, and he bit my lip and emptied himself into me while groaning out my name. It sounded like everything coming from him. I gasped at the warmth and at him, at this place, this moment.

He had done everything for me. The least I could do was try to be worthy of it.

WE SLEPT that night on the ground near where the house had once stood, Seven curled protectively around me, shielding me from the cold and whatever ghosts haunted the field. I don’t remember much about that night, only a single moment where I was awakened from some dream about my mother (she called to me, arms outstretched, telling me it was okay to come with her, that it was okay to burn) to find Seven whispering quietly in my ear that everything was fine, everything would be okay. He pulled me into him and rubbed my back until the shaking fell away and I fell back asleep.

THE next day when I awoke, I felt as if something in me had shifted. I was still worried about all the things of late (Seven, the Council, the Circle, the Station, the darkness, the darkness in me—it’s enough to drive a man up out of his goddamn mind if you let it), but I found I was no longer worried about the place I woke up in. As much as a person could put behind them the murder of a parent, I did. I would wonder later, after the events at Quadratum Plaza that were still weeks down the road, if that’s exactly what Seven had wanted to happen. He’d told me I was blocked, somewhere in my head. The block needed to be broken, and this was what he thought would break it, or at the very least start the process. I wondered this and so much more. But by the time I would think to ask him, it would be too late.

HE PULLED out a sheet of paper from a pocket on his bag, and I groaned as he hooked it to a tree with a tack he pressed into the bark. “I thought this was supposed to be a cathartic vacation,” I grumbled at him.

Seven smirked as he walked back over to me. “I gave you catharsis last night. Twice.”

“Har, har, big guy. Glad to see you’re all smug again.”

He laughed as he kissed my head. I scowled at him as I childishly reached up and rubbed the top of my head. He knew better, though, as he smiled down at me. He pointed over to the tree, fifteen feet away, the paper snapping gently in the breeze. “We’re going to try this again,” he said. “Away from the Station, away from everyone else. There’s just you and me here. There’s no one else around for miles. All you have to do is focus and let me do the rest.”

“It’s not even lit,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Then light it.”

I watched him for a moment, seeing no sarcasm in his eyes, no mocking set of his jaw. I took a deep breath and looked back at the tree. I started to raise my hand, but he gently grabbed it and held it in place, shaking his head. “No. Not with your hand. Use anything else to conduct it, but you are not allowed to use your hand.”

I sighed, showing just how stupid I thought he was. He wasn’t fooled. He kissed me again lightly across the lips and then turned me toward the tree. “Focus,” he whispered in my ear. “Just focus.” I heard his words as they fell over me, deep and soft. I saw the bark of the tree beyond the paper, a rich brown that cracked roughly around the trunk. I could see ants crawling up the side of the tree, sap glistening as it dripped out of a crevice in the trunk, hardening as the rays of the sun cooked it from within. I could see the veins of the maple leaves as they flexed and relaxed. I could see the blue head of the pushpin that held the paper. And then there was him.

I felt him pushing, but it wasn’t physical. The Joining had done something to us, that moment when the fire had poured out of me and into him. I could feel him near me, yes, and I could feel his hands upon my arms as he stood behind me, oh yes, but there was a gentle pulse in my head, as if he was met with brief resistance before he entered. It felt invasively sexual, darkly erotic, and my breathing quickened and my dick hardened. I bit back a groan but heard his sigh behind me. And then he was in, swimming around my head, floating wonderfully here and there. I could hear his voice even though his lips never moved. He said, I’m here, I’m standing right here. This is where I am and this is where I will be. I am behind you, beside you, around you. That paper… that’s nothing. That’s easy. After all you’ve done in your life, after all you’ve had to do to survive, this is the easy part. It may be about control, it may be about power, but it’s something that you already have. You can do this. I know you can.

His words echoed sweetly through my head and I took a moment to wonder if he could hear me and if I could talk back to him (You can, he said, sounding joyously amused), and then his hands became my hands and they wrapped around the flare in me. He gasped in my head at the strength of it, at the depth of the flame. He touched the wind that roared through my head and breathed in wonder as it brushed over him. I could hear him laughing as it flitted around him, as the fire warmed his (our) hands. He (I?) pulled up the fire, and I felt it rise past my chest and throat, my mouth, nose, and eyes (and for one brilliant moment, as it broached my eyes, the world became awash in a bright red-orange glow that flickered as if through a Technicolor lens). He pulled it up into my head, and the wind soared angrily at this invasion, the fire snapping and begging to be let go. He didn’t, instead holding it steady, and eventually it settled and swirled beautifully around my head: the fire, the wind mixing and dancing. Now, he said. Now.

The paper flicked in the breeze, and I flexed like I hadn’t done since I was a child. I pushed and the heat grew in my head, the wind began to roar. His hands became mine again, and the flare became mine again, and I showed it where I wanted it to go, and I pushed and pushed and pushed and then—

Ignis

—the air around the tree began to shimmer like heat waves off pavement, and I was going to push one final time when the dam broke and it flowed out of me. I told it to listen to me, that it was mine, that it needed to do what I said, and the shimmer took on heat and it was too big, it was too much, I was going to light the entire fucking tree on fire, and then I heard him—
focus

—again, and he washed over me and the air around the tree brightened again, it cleared again, and I could feel the moment when I could pinpoint it at the center of the sheet of paper and I sighed. There was a snap and a crack, and the paper ignited lazily in the middle, the fire licking the white, curling it out from the inside. I gasped, but it began to spread, it began to eat the paper, the bark behind it heating up. The sap underneath began to run, the ants began to burn, and I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t do it, it was going to fail, and I was going to fail, and why the hell were we doing this? Why the hell did this even matter? It didn’t matter, I told myself, forgetting that he was there too. I can’t do this. I can’t do—

You can, he said gently. You will.

And for all of my doubts, for all of my reservations, I believed him.

I could see the fire spreading, could feel it boiling out of control, eating and biting the paper, turning it to ash and soot. I pushed through the small tendrils of smoke that rose up along the tree, pushed through the heat and resistance and wrapped myself around the edges of the fire as it burned outward. Stop, I thought. Stop. It forced itself against me, pushing and fighting, and just when I thought it would escape my grasp, the fire died down, the burnt hole in the center only a few inches in diameter. The internal circle smoldered, and tiny gouts of fire continued to flare, but it stayed, never consuming the edges. Keep it lit, he told me. Don’t let it go out.

I thought then of how easy it would be to just let the fire consume the paper, the tree, the ground, the field, the valley, the mountains, the world. All it would take was one little push from me and the fire would grow and grow until it burned beyond my control. The continents of the Earth would be covered in fire, the land, the people, the animals, the grass would be charred black. Everything would start over again because fire was not just destruction; it was death and life and rebirth. From the ashes something would rise and it would begin again. A dark buzz raced through me as I felt the imperceptible need to push, to just push a little bit more, and I almost did. But then I felt Seven there again, whispering quietly in my head, sweet words that did more to my heart and mind than I thought was possible. We don’t need to consume the world, he said. We don’t need to burn it down. We need to save it, we need to protect it. This is why we are here. Just focus, little man. Focus. I’m here, and I will help you whenever you need me to, so just focus.

I did and kept the simmering burn on the paper contained in the middle. I don’t know how long we stood there, watching it burn, Seven’s arms around my waist, his words in my head. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, I don’t know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the focus I had and the man at my back. He could hear my thoughts, he could hear my fears. He saw the black oil bubbling underneath my surface and he didn’t flinch away from it. He told me stories, he told me secrets, he showed me memories. His mom had had an extreme fear of spiders, and when he was eight, he’d spread plastic arachnids outside her door and laugh when she screamed. She didn’t think it was funny. His father had shown him how to catch a baseball and how to field grounders. His grandfather had shown him the secret tunnels he had carved with his Earth abilities underneath the Station. He and Otis had snuck out of the Station one night and had gotten drunk in the field next door, drinking whiskey they’d stolen from the kitchen. They were thirteen and were wasted after three sips each. They spent the rest of the night throwing up into the grass and laughing at each other.

I learned his middle name was Cassius, after his granddad. He never knew his grandma. He sometimes wondered what others thought of him, if they were envious of his position in the Station, if they were angry with him for the choices he’d made. He worried he was losing control of the Council. He replayed our first kiss in the alleyway over and over in his head because it’s the first time he’d ever known complete happiness. He’d been beyond nervous and into the land of full-blown panic the first time we’d had sex, and he still wasn’t sure he was good enough. He missed his mom. He missed his dad. He missed his grandpa. He wondered where they were now and if they were happy. He wondered if the Tree was real. He didn’t think it was.

He showed me these things, and so much more. By the time he left my head, it felt like I’d known him my entire life. My mind reeled with everything Seven, and it was so much, that complete submersion. He gasped as we broke apart, and my head felt hollow and empty without his voice and presence. He leaned down to me and kissed me and whispered, Burn it in my ear, and I released my hold on the paper and the fire consumed it, and I felt his heart against mine as our tongues touched and danced, and somewhere in the distance, a bird twittered lazily from its perch in the tree.

WE STAYED one more night in that field, Seven again wrapped around me. It was Seven who woke us up that night, from a dream of his. He snapped awake, his breath ragged, the cry dying in his throat as his eyes looked around wildly. He saw me next to him and reached out and pulled me into him roughly, his heartbeat rapid in his chest, his breath harsh in my ear. He gripped my back tightly, and when I asked him what was wrong, what he’d dreamed about, all he would say was that there was a fire that burned brightly and he couldn’t get to me, no matter how hard he tried. It was my turn to whisper soothing nothings in his ear as I rubbed my hands over the scruff on his head. Eventually he calmed and was able to fall back asleep.

I stayed awake long into the night.

“WE’LL come back here again,” I told Seven as we loaded up the car with our bags. “One day, when this is all over.”

He closed the trunk and walked over to me and stood next to me, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the car. I dropped against him and rested my head on his shoulder. “You mean to visit?” he asked. “We can come back here anytime you want.”

I shook my head. “To stay. Maybe. Maybe we can build a house here, and when it’s all done, we can live in that house and I can be Felix and you can be Seven, and no one will want to bind themselves to me, and you won’t have to argue with the Council, and everyone would leave us alone. We would be forgotten for the rest of our lives, and no one would ever bother us again. I think I would like to be forgotten.”

He lay his head down on the top of mine. “I could see that. But then Tick and Tock would find out where we were, and then they would want to come live with us too.”

I snorted. “Maybe they could visit every now and then.”

“You do know the same Tick and Tock I’m talking about, right? There would be no visiting; there would be plenty of overstaying their welcomes. And then Jason wouldn’t want to leave your side and Otis won’t want to leave mine. Amy would be pissed that she had to stay at the Station, and Dan and Edna would want to follow everyone else.”

I rolled my eyes. “So what you’re saying is that the Circle isn’t just a group of protectors, they’re also in-laws.” I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I prayed Seven would just let me die of embarrassment without saying anything.

But of course he couldn’t pass it up. “So we’re married?” he asked, his voice pleased like I’d never heard before. I didn’t have to look up at his face to know the smile he had would be wide and happy.

“Ignore me,” I groaned against him, burying my blushing face in his chest. “I speak without thinking sometimes.”

“I love you,” he said. “So, so much.”

I thought I misheard him. My eyes snapped to his, and he watched me, no apprehension in his eyes, no doubt on his face. He grinned down at me. “I…,” I started, no idea on how to finish.

“You don’t need to say anything back,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine, the ocean watching me. “I don’t expect you to. I just needed you to know. Especially here, in this place. This is where we first met.” He shrugged as he blushed. “I had to leave you then, but here we are again. Together. Finally together. I just… wanted you to know.”

I nodded against his forehead, my eyes wide, my mind reeling. I tried to form words, tried to get myself to say anything in response, but I couldn’t. All I could do was watch the ocean and see myself reflected back at me. I brushed my lips over his, and he sighed into my mouth and then he was on me, pressing me against the car as he licked down my neck, his hands down the front of my jeans, and I rocked my head back and stared up into the cobalt-blue sky, and all I could do was think of him, alive and strong in my hands, his words still ringing in my hears, his mouth on me in such a talented way. It was just me and him, there in that place where tragedy had happened, where I thought my life had ended. But somehow, he made it seem like a home again.

Somehow, he gave it back to me.

Chapter 10

I played with fire, did counsel spurn, made life my common stake;

But never thought that fire would burn, O that a soul could ache.

—Henry Vaughan

IN THE weeks leading up to the events at Quadratum Plaza, there were moments that I felt I was in control again, that I could beat back the oil I felt curdling inside me. These moments were made of pure strength and fire, always enabled by Seven and the Circle. Seven had been right when he said I’d had a block in my head, something that kept me from doing what he thought I was capable of.

After we returned from Damascus, I entered the Training Grounds with a new mindset, a deeper confidence. Edna and Dan didn’t seem surprised when I was able to keep the sheets of paper from burning to the edges. They were surprised, however, when I had them cover the entire north wall with paper and made Edna and Otis light each one individually with their fire and the rest of the Circle with cigarette and campfire lighters. Seven stood next to me, not latching onto me but grazing his fingers against mine to let me know he was there. As each sheet ignited, I grasped onto it, forcing the smoldering char to remain in the center of each page. I felt… expanded as I grasped onto the next one and the next one and the next one. Finally, after an hour, all 743 pages were lit and I was completely zoned out, with only Seven to tether me to reality. It felt like I was hypnotized, entranced somehow with the flickering wall in front of me. I could see all the pages at once, I could feel them all struggling to burn out of control, but I pushed them all together until they just became one single slip of paper that I could see. The fire no longer struggled, and I no longer had to fight it. According to Seven and the rest, I stood there for four hours, watching the controlled burn. I don’t remember that much time passing.

There were moments of blinding clarity, moments that Seven made possible. There was an afternoon, a couple of weeks later, when I was working with Dan on creating miniature tornadoes, about the size of a man. We’d set up piles of mattresses on either side of the stretch of floor being used as a causeway for the twisters. Otis had naturally volunteered as our human test subject and was bellowing his laughter every time he got thrown to the side when the roaring swirl of wind struck him in the chest. I hurled another of these storms with a twist of my hand, and Dan screamed for Otis to get the fuck out of the way. We all stared, dumbfounded, as the cyclone spun out down the floor, lightning flashing at its epicenter. I collapsed the storm, and a large bolt of lightning shot up toward the ceiling and exploded, electricity arcing out along the tiles twenty feet above us, shorting out the lights, causing the bulbs to burst in a shower of sparks. The room fell into semi-darkness as I looked down at my hands, wondering where the hell that had come from. I hadn’t felt anything different in my head, nothing changed in my chest. I heard footsteps in front of me and looked up to see Seven filling my world, his massive shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he stared down at me. “What?” I asked timidly. “I don’t know how the fuck I did that.”

He grabbed my arm and started pulling me from the Training Grounds. “We’ll be right back,” he growled at the others in the room. I heard Amy and Jason snickering to themselves while the Clock Twins yelled after us, telling us it wasn’t fair that we got to take a break. My hand was sweating in Seven’s, and I wondered what his problem was, why we had to leave right then, if I had done something wrong, something that I wasn’t supposed to be able to do. Maybe it was something in the other part of the prophecy he hadn’t told me yet. Maybe this was a sign of something to come, something the others weren’t yet aware of. He shoved me into a small side closet near the elevators and closed the door, locking it behind us. “I don’t know what that was, big guy,” I said nervously, backing as far away from him as I could. My back hit the wall as he spun around. “I didn’t know I could do that. Honest.”

He walked toward me slowly, stalking me, watching me with those ocean eyes of his, the waves dark and muted. His breathing was still heavy, his hands flexing and then falling into fists at his sides. But there was something conversant about his posture, something familiar about the way he moved. Before I could name it, his lips were on mine, ravishing me as his fingers fumbled with the fly of my jeans. He slipped his hand into my underwear and gripped my cock roughly, rubbing his hand over the head, pinching the skin with a deft twist of his fingers. I grinned into his kiss as his tongue tangled with mine. He nipped down my jaw line before finding his place at my ear, biting gently on the lobe.

“You liked that?” I asked him breathlessly.

He snarled into my neck and squeezed me tighter.

For all that we were, for all that Seven was before I arrived, he was never afraid of our sex, even if he admittedly didn’t know what he was doing half the time. There might have been a level of skittishness there, a moment of self-deprecation, but it was always overcome by the hunger he felt for me, the way my body moved against his. I taught him all I knew in those weeks that followed. Much to my chagrin, he soon adapted much of my own A material to his own liking, and I spent the majority of the time with my head arched back, gasping his name as he bit and sucked and licked and fucked. But even with all that, there were moments of jealousy, moments where I would see him speaking with Kammy, the hard lines on both their faces doing nothing to appease the dark thoughts that rolled over me. I would scowl as she reached up and touched his arm. I would glower as he smiled quietly at something she said. I would feel the heat in my hand and chest and head as she laughed, a beautiful sound that grated over my skin. Was there anything there? I don’t know. Maybe. It would have definitely been more on her part, but Seven wasn’t like me, or at least how I used to be. The big guy cared too damn much about everyone and everything to be able to shut them out completely. He told me this numerous times as he caught me scowling at them, the spark in his eye and the grin on his face enough to humble me.

Then… then there were the moments that are the hardest to put into words. These moments were the blackest of them all. These moments were the ones I felt when I was at my most angry, my most jealous, my most possessive. These were the moments that I could feel the oil bubbling up in me again, choking out almost all rationality, shoving to the wayside almost all reason. These times were brought on by the simplest of things: Kammy’s constant presence, even though she was no longer Circle; Nero’s watchful expression, so predatory as his eyes followed me from one end of the Pavilion to the other; my father and his constant wariness of me, my mind still able to see the charred remains of his sleeve as we passed each other with a nod of our heads. I remembered what that voice had said to me that day on the Training Grounds, and that day when I had killed my mother. Burn, it whispered. You were built to burn. There were times when I almost could believe I was made to be nothing more than destruction. These were the moments I schooled my face as best I could, when I’d lie through my teeth to Seven, to the Circle, telling them, No, nothing’s wrong. No, of course everything is okay. I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all. Yeah, must be from all those late nights, right? Yeah, Tock, Seven does keep me up all night. Ha, ha. Don’t I know it.

Was Seven fooled by it? I don’t know. I don’t know if any of them were.

It didn’t help that I dreamed so much. It didn’t help that the dreams were of Trees, thousands and thousands of Trees, a forest like had never existed before. It didn’t help that I spent most of my nights wandering through this never-ending woodland, unable to reach the other side, always stuck somewhere in the middle. Sometimes Seven was there with me, sometimes it was my mother. Sometimes they were there together. But it was those other times, those times when the Trees whispered that there were two, that there was always two, that chilled me the most, where I’d start to run faster and faster, the branches clawing at my face and arms, ripping at my skin. I couldn’t remember then the dream I’d had the night my mother had come from me, no matter how close it felt, how on the tip of my tongue it was. I would run, and fire would leak from my hands, falling to the ground and igniting the leaves and needles that were remnants of seasons long since passed. The wind would drip from my eyes, stirring the conflagration, and more often than not, I would be followed by a great wall of fire that consumed everything in its path. Just as soon as I was sure I was about to be overtaken, that I would burn there in this lost place, I would snap awake, sweat pouring from my brow, a scream dying in my throat. Seven would always reach for me then, curling me into him, stroking my hair, whispering into my ear. I could feel him pushing into my head and I would frantically build up walls, blocking him from things I didn’t want him to see.

I became adept at this subterfuge, the building of massive constructs that disallowed him to see all the horror I thought. It hurt—emotionally and physically—to build these walls, to hide that darkness from him. But then I would feel his breath on my neck and his voice in my head, and it would be sweet, calm and sweet, and I could feel those walls shudder, the groans as they shifted and cracked. But they always held. They held because Seven himself had taught me how, even if he was unaware of doing so. I pressed and searched anytime that I was in him, following threads of memories that more often than not came up blocked and cut off. These were things I wanted to know—needed to know, or so I thought—and the anger I felt at him keeping things from me, that I wasn’t capable of knowing everything he did, that I wasn’t ready to know all that he knew, would threaten to overtake me, and the black oil would chuckle in my ear and tell me sweetly that of course I wasn’t ready. Of course I couldn’t know these things. These things had to be protected from me. God knows what you’d do with the knowledge, the oil would say. Obviously you’re not as important as the rest of them. Obviously they know what you’re meant to do, what you’re meant to be. Split. You’re Split and anything that’s Split is never whole.

Should I have asked more? Should I have pressed more? Maybe. Probably. You know how I feel about hindsight, what my thoughts are on retrospection. I don’t know what I could have found out then, had I pushed for answers, had I thundered and raged until I was told all I felt I needed to know. I don’t know what the truth would have done to me. I don’t know if I would have been capable of doing everything that followed, past Quadratum Plaza, past the fallout of that day, past my inevitable actions, those responses that couldn’t have been executed better had they been planned long before I was alive. For all I knew, they were. I wrestled a lot with the idea of fate and destiny, wondering how in God’s (the Tree’s) name things could be set in stone, that free will was nothing more than a hope never to be realized. What was I made to do? Why was I made to begin with? This sophistic thinking, this immature philosophizing, only proceeded to make things worse.

But the walls held.

WHAT I think of as an end to that life, those short weeks I spent in the Station, started, fittingly enough, with the beginning of the Elemental Registration Act.

There was never a question about whether the House of Representatives would pass the ERA, only a question of when. Elementals and Normals alike watched and waited, each passing day with no news prolonging the agony of the decision that seemed like a foregone conclusion. We had supporters, sure: pro-Elemental rallies were held, quiet but strong, never resorting to violence, at least on the parts of the Elementals. Many were surprised when certain members of Congress came out as Elementals, only to see their voices quickly silenced by an uproar from the vast majority of their constituents. Some called us monsters, blasphemous in the eyes of God. We were a genetic mutation, an awful scourge that afflicted a small percentage of the population, diseased and wrong. We were immoral, we were damned. Bible-thumpers screeched their sermons, indicating the End of Days were upon us, to repent or perish in a sea of fire. It was no longer a fight about the rights of Elementals, but the difference between us and them. Elementals possessed powers Normals did not. Normals possessed a majority right that Elementals did not. It was not a fight we could win. It was a fight we did not win.

Much like it had done with the Senate, the ERA bill passed through the House with flying colors, with only a handful of dissenting votes. The world rejoiced. Other countries, from Pakistan and Afghanistan to Libya and Iran praised the United States for their forward thinking. Canada and Mexico questioned the motives of the US, Great Britain and China argued they would reconsider trade agreements with the US. President Miller indicated that he would hold a press conference with Mayor Sampson and the governor after he signed the bill, a meeting of the minds and media that was meant to be a somber reminder of how far everyone still had to go, but already had undertones of being a celebration. His press office indicated that it would be held in Quadratum Plaza with the mayor’s office in attendance and the president connected on live video feed on the massive JumboTron billboard (which, as a side note, is ironically made by Gemellus, a multimedia technology conglomerate which poured millions into the passage of the ERA—oh, what a wild, crazy world we live in). When asked why he would not be in physical attendance at the press conference, the president’s office said with a blink of their eyes that it was for obvious security reasons. The dumbass unsaid at the end of the sentence was, of course, implied.

The bill was signed on my twenty-fifth birthday, December 4, 2014, one month after the destruction at the Cantio Building. I gained a year, and the world gained its first sanctioned response against the so-called Elemental threat. There were memorials held all over the world, media footage shown of President Miller at the White House, gracing the bill with his signature, video shown of the smoking Cantio Building, as if everyone had forgotten what it looked like in those few weeks. HORROR IN TERRA CITY, we were reminded. FORTY-FIVE CONFIRMED DEAD and WITNESSES CONFIRM ELEMENTALS RESPONSIBLE. It was the WORST ATTACK ON AMERICAN SOIL IN SIXTEEN YEARS. And, just because the foresight seemed applicable to reiterate, MAYOR SAMPSON DENOUNCES COWARDLY ATTACK AND VOWS THE ERA BILL WILL NOT FAIL.

The press conference was scheduled for December 18, 2014. It was predicted more people would be in attendance than would show up weeks later to see the ball drop on New Year’s Eve. Security would be heightened, we were told, and the president sternly admonished against any retaliatory actions that could take place that day, saying, “Swift justice would be brought against those who would think to disrupt this peaceful gathering.” He alluded to the security measures that would be in place, but when asked just how much security there would be, all he would say was “enough.”

“They’ve got to be kidding,” Tock said plaintively as we watched the signing on a giant TV in the Tech Cave. “Of course someone is going to do something. Are they really that blind? Putting all those people in one place like that?”

“At least it would even the odds a little,” Tick grumbled. “Who’d miss a hundred thousand Normals?”

“Hey,” Jase snapped as he smacked Tick across the back of the head. “I’m one of those Normals.”

“What are we going to do?” Amy asked as Tick scowled at Jase. “There’s going to be hundreds of thousands of people there. There’s going to be no way to protect them all.”

“Not to mention however much security,” Dan added. “It’s not like people will be able to walk in with guns and bombs.”

“They won’t need to,” Edna said. “Elementals don’t need to carry weapons.”

“I do,” Otis said with a grin. “My gun is just as scary as my fire. Right, Sevvy?”

“Right, buddy,” Seven said softly. “You’re scary no matter what.”

“How big is Quadratum Plaza?” I asked. “It’s gotta be, like, six or seven blocks, right?”

“Almost half a square mile,” Tick muttered as he pulled up a map. “Not to mention however many miles subway tunnels run underneath.”

Tock groaned. “Jesus, what if they have Earth Elementals in the Plaza or underneath? They could collapse the streets and take out everyone at once.”

We watched as a live shot was shown of Quadratum Plaza from one of the news towers that surrounded it. The Plaza never really seemed that big to me, especially since I was almost considered a native, but looking at it stretched across the screen, I felt chills roll up and down my body. Thousands of people crossed the streets and entered into hundreds of different doorways. The buildings loomed around the Plaza, all brightly lit and dimly cheery, their luster somewhat lost in the daylight hours. I imagined the sidewalks and streets filled with people standing shoulder to shoulder, all watching the Gemellus screen as the gigantic head of the president smiled down at them, as their mayor and governor waved at them from the raised stage. If this was to be the moment where the darkness would rear its head again, there didn’t seem to be much we could do. There were only nine of us, and even if we got the members of the Station security team to join us, even if every man, woman, and child in the Station stood beside us, it would still be less than three hundred people to cover a sea of faces. It didn’t seem possible. What if the grounds collapsed? What if the buildings fell around all those people? It had to be too good of an opportunity for the Scarred King’s people to pass up—the citizens of Terra City and tourists all forced into a causeway six blocks long. No matter what way I thought about the destruction (be it earth or fire or water or wind), all I could see was the masses trampling each other, their screams as they drowned or burned, as they were thrown into the air or squashed under tons of concrete.

“Too bad there’s no way to stop Elementals from even showing up,” Tock muttered as he glared at the screen.

If only, I agreed silently. If only there was some way to keep all the Elementals away. Some way to stop them from being able—

This, my father whispered to me. This is the future.

My eyes went wide.

It sends out electromagnetic pulses, designed explicitly to interfere with an Elemental’s genetics. Your powers are hardwired into your genes, your DNA, and this disrupts that connection by interfering with the neuromuscular transmitters in your body, rendering your abilities null while you are within range. They’ve tested it on weaker Elementals, and some have been killed in the process. But even with the fear of what you all are capable of, they can’t risk the extermination of your kind. I would say it’s strictly for humanitarian reasons, but more and more I believe it is politically motivated, a grab for power.

“Oh shit,” I whispered as I felt the blood drain from my face.

“What?” Seven asked sharply, moving quickly to stand in front of me. He reached down and cupped my face in his hands and pulled my eyes to his. “Felix, what’s wrong?”

“The Suppressor,” I breathed. “This isn’t a celebration or a memorial. They know something is going to happen. It’s a goddamn test. They’re going to test the Suppressor.”

Silence.

Then: “Get Thaddeus Paracel up here,” Seven growled, his eyes never leaving mine. “Now.”

MINUTES later, my father sat before the Circle, his eyes wary, his posture guarded. I noticed he favored his right arm and saw the unmistakable bulge of bandages under his shirt sleeve. Anger threatened to rise, either at him or myself, I don’t know. I thought about inspecting it, sifting through it to see how deep it went, but I knew this wasn’t the time. I had to stay focused because what my father said could mean the difference between life and death.

Oh, boy, it huffed in my head. This is starting to sound like a very bad movie. Don’t forget to wear your cape when you go out and save the world.

I rolled my eyes.

“What do you know?” Seven asked my father quietly.

Dad looked away from us all for a moment, and even though the rest of them might have thought he was avoiding the question, I knew he was trying to pick out the right words to say. I didn’t know how much the Circle knew of the machine that could make us Normals—even for just a moment—and kicked myself again for letting this strand fall to the wayside. So much had happened so fast it seemed impossible that I should have been able to remember every single little detail, but this was important, maybe the thing that mattered the most.

“Seven knows some of this,” my father said softly, “but even he doesn’t know everything. I thought… I thought I could figure out some way to stop it. I thought I could find someone above me who would listen to reason. And now….”

“And now?” I asked, knowing the answer.

He turned to me and smiled weakly. “And now I’ve been placed on administrative leave pending an investigative inquiry by a counterintelligence committee. They don’t know I absconded with a copy of the plans for the Suppressor, but they’re very interested in what are considered to be my left-leaning politics. The only reason I’m not in jail right now is because they have no concrete proof to use against me. I may have asked questions, but it was only to people I thought of as loyal. They won’t turn on me.” He paused, considering. “At least I don’t think they will.”

The Circle murmured quietly to each other as I glanced up at Seven. “Did you know about this?” I asked him.

He sighed. “I just found out. When we got back from Damascus.”

“And you didn’t think I should know?”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed my forehead. I thought about throwing his arm off me, but I didn’t have the heart. “I thought you had too much to focus on already,” he whispered in my ear. “I know you think I’m keeping things from you, and maybe I am. But it’s not malicious. It’s… it’s because I want to keep you safe.”

I was almost placated by his words. “I’m strong,” I told him, poking him in the chest. “I can handle a lot more than you give me credit for. You can’t protect me for the rest of my life.”

“Watch me,” he retorted before he sobered. “But I know. I know how strong you are, how powerful you’ve become. I see it every day.”

“Then trust me. I have to know what we’re going to be facing.”

I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes, felt the subtle tensing of his arms. I wondered at it, wondered just how much he really knew, or thought he knew. His position in the Station must have weighed heavily on his mind in those days, and I could almost resent him for not letting me share the burden. But now that I know the truth… I don’t know. Part of me thinks he was right to hide things as he did. I trusted him. That was almost enough for me. It should have been enough.

“Are they following you?” Amy asked my father. “It doesn’t seem likely that they’d let an asset under suspicion such as yourself just walk away undetected.”

“He’s clean,” Seven said. “The DOD bugged his house, but we found the tracker on his car. He’s driving a Station vehicle now. He was able to lose the people who were following him. He’s staying here in the meantime, until we figure out what to do.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked my dad. “You can’t go back there. Not now. Now with how much you know.”

My father smiled sadly at me. “I know. I always knew this day would come, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon. I was doing good work at the DOD. I was able to get intel that we otherwise would have missed. I have a place here at the Station, but we’ll be temporarily blinded. That may cost us, in the long run.”

“And the Suppressor?” Edna asked. “Would they use it in Quadratum Plaza?”

“If you’d have asked me a month ago, I would’ve said the technology wasn’t there, that it wouldn’t be possible to use it over such a large area. But there were indications they have the capability to link it up with DOD satellites. If that’s the case, then, theoretically, yes. They would be able to broadcast the electromagnetic field over the entire Plaza.”

“But you said it was killing weaker Elementals,” I reminded him. “What if the weaker ones are there? They would really take the risk of killing innocent civilians?”

“Death was a result of prolonged exposure,” my father explained. “We’re talking hours upon hours. They weren’t trying to find a way to kill an Elemental, but merely to subdue one. Keep in mind, this tech is to be used at the prisons they are so resolutely denying exist. They only want to destroy the Elementals as a last resort. Why would you kill what could be your greatest asset? The effects of the Suppressor shouldn’t be life-threatening for the short time they would use it at the Plaza.”

“But how would they know it worked?” Dan asked. “Are they really planning on an attack happening?”

My father shrugged. “I should think so. But even if they weren’t, I think Felix is right about this being a test. Most likely they will have a sample group in place, Elementals that have already been captured that they could test it on.”

“But wouldn’t people notice a group of prisoners?” Tick asked. “It’s not like they could have them out in the open. People would freak out seeing them handcuffed and under armed guard.”

“The tunnels,” Otis said. “They’ll probably keep ’em in the subway tunnels, right, Sevvy? Nobody could see ’em down there.”

“I think you’re right, buddy,” Seven said thoughtfully as Otis preened. “It would make sense. No one would notice a group of people underground. There’s got to be a handful of abandoned tunnels underneath the active ones.”

“That’s all well and good,” Amy said, “but it still doesn’t answer how we’re going to stop an attack from happening. We don’t even know if any of this will happen. And then there’s the fact that if it does, if you’re right about the Suppressor, you all wouldn’t be able to use your abilities. I know most of you can fight and I know you would, but how can we stop an attack if there’s only a handful of us with guns versus however many of them?”

“Tick?” Seven asked. “Tock? What do you think?”

“Finally he asks us,” Tick said. “Let me guess: you would like the amazing Tick and Tock to use their supreme hacking abilities and prevent the Suppressor from being used.”

“Child’s play,” Tock said disinterestedly as he blew on his fingers and rubbed them against his chest. “I figure it will take us only a couple of days to get onto the DOD mainframe. I’ve never met a governmental-encrypted firewall I couldn’t fuck into oblivion.”

Tick grinned. “Remember that time we hacked the FBI data base and put Alex Sampson on the ten most-wanted list? They couldn’t figure out how to take it down for a week.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Tock said wistfully. “It seems like only yesterday when we did stuff like that for fun.”

“Won’t that just leave everything wide open for the attack to happen?” Jason asked quietly. We all looked at him, and he blushed and shuffled his feet. “If there is to be an attack, it seems like by eliminating the Suppressor that it would just add on to our problems.”

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Dan muttered.

“We can’t just sit here and let this happen!” I said angrily. “If this is supposed to be a test, they’re people that have been captured that we have to help! You’ve seen the map in Seven’s office. The pins are already coming down. People are already disappearing. They didn’t need the fucking ERA to be signed. Now they just have permission to do whatever the hell they want. Something’s gotta give. We have to take a chance, one way or another.”

“Then we have a choice,” Seven said as he pulled away. “As far as I see it, we let the Suppressor run and find some way to rescue any prisoners that may be there and prevent an onslaught with no Elemental involvement. Or we sever the connection and attempt to do the same. Tick, Tock. You think you can find where they would take the test subjects?”

They glanced at each other, and a look was exchanged, resolute and calm. “We can, boss man,” Tock said quietly.

“Leave it to us,” Tick said.

Seven looked around at the rest of us, and I saw the imposing figure he made, the strength emanating from his stance. Whether he wanted it or not, whether he knew it or not, he was a leader, more than I could ever hope to be. I felt something swell in my heart as I watched him, and I could almost name it, but it wasn’t the right time. There were other things to focus on. My own feelings for Seven could wait.

“So it’s a decision, then. One that we should all make together. You are Circulus Custodum. I am Iuratum Cor. We are here to help and serve the Findo Unum. Everyone’s voice will be heard.”

I should have been surprised after his words when everyone turned to look at me. I should have been surprised that they looked at me to go first, to make a decision that would undoubtedly affect how they voted, as well. Oh, this is all well and good, it whispered. I couldn’t tell if it was the voice I always heard or the one tinged with the black oil. I didn’t know if there was a difference anymore. He speaks of group mind and every vote counting, but those are just pretty words. They look at you because if you tell them what to do, they will do it. If you tell them to die for you, they would. And for what? To save a group of people you don’t know? To protect thousands of people who would rather see you strung up in a government facility somewhere with wires poking out of your skin as machines that read your heart and mind whir all around you? As your blood was stripped from your body and analyzed and debated and duplicated? Why should you do anything for them?

Because they deserve a chance, I thought. Even if they don’t think I do.

It laughed.

“We are powerful together,” I said quietly. “I know you all think I’m supposed to be this great thing, this person you’ve spent most of your life hearing stories about. That I’m supposed to rise up and face the darkness and defeat it and set the world back the way it should be. Maybe that’s what I will be, one day. But I am nothing without any of you. We have trained together and have fought together. We are at our best and most powerful when we stand with each other and can do what we do.” I looked at Seven, who smiled quietly at me. “And you. You… you know what you do to me. You know what I’m capable of, both good and bad. If there’s a chance we can stop this, if there’s even a sliver of hope that we can make a difference, we have to take it. I’m not big like you or Otis or Jase. I can’t fight like Amy can. I am an Elemental. I am Findo Unum. And that’s how I would face them. If you agree, then you also agree that we must do everything we can to protect the rest of them. I vote once we find the prisoners, we sever the connection.”

They were quiet then, if only for a moment, letting my words sink in, each thinking what they would. I only had eyes for Seven, who moved back toward me and pressed his forehead against mine, the ocean so bright and full. “I love you,” he breathed.

I smiled at him. “I know,” I said. I felt another response on my lips, but I swallowed the words.

“I’m with Felix,” he said, pulling his face from mine to look at the Circle. “As you all knew I would be.”

“Me too.” Otis grinned as he reached over and slapped me on the back. It hurt. A lot.

“Might as well,” Amy said. “It’ll be the same for me one way or another.”

“Me too,” Jason said as he smiled at me. “Gotta say, though, Felix: didn’t really picture us at this point in our lives.”

“Of course not,” I reassured him. “I was going to let you get old and fat.”

“And bald,” he reminded me.

“And bald.”

“It’s time to change things,” Edna said. “I agree. Sever the connection.”

“We only live once, right?” Dan said. “Well, at least we do. I don’t know about you, Felix. I’m still confused on the fact if you’re a reincarnated woman who talks to trees or what.”

I flipped him off.

“And we all know you couldn’t do anything without us,” Tick said. “It would just be depressing to watch Seven or Jason trying to hack into one of the most protected networks in the world.”

“A travesty of epic proportions,” Tock agreed. “How much you wanna bet they couldn’t even turn the computer on?”

“Seriously,” Tick said. “I could just imagine the world ending around them when they realized they forgot to turn on the computer monitor.”

Tock laughed. “Seven would be all, like, ‘Oh, how I wish I had been nicer to Tick and Tock. They are so good at everything they do.’ And then he would go cry as he bench-pressed a cow.”

Tick grinned. “We totally deserve raises.”

Tock turned to Seven. “We deserve raises.”

“And we want to drive the Mercedes,” Tick whispered to his brother.

“And we want to drive the—”

Seven waved them off while rolling his eyes. “You boys pull this off, I’ll buy you your own Mercedes.”

The Clock twins bumped fists as they shouted in joy. “Think of all the chicks we’ll get!” Tock said excitedly. “They’ll be so turned on by the Asian Invasion.”

“Or maybe it’ll be guys,” Tick reminded him. “I’m still confused if Felix has worked his awesome gay mojo yet.” He looked at me for clarification. I gave none. “Anyway,” he continued, “we’ll look epic either way.”

“So it’s agreed,” Seven said.

“Not quite,” my father said. I’d forgotten he was there. We all turned to him as he bowed his head. “You won’t get too far without me. I won’t let you all go into this alone.”

“No way,” I said. “You’re not a fighter, Dad. Nor are you an Elemental. There’s no fucking way you’re going anywhere near Quadratum Plaza.”

“Do you really think Tick and Tock can break into the DOD mainframe without my help? It’s the largest system known to mankind. Tick and Tock could spend years searching and never find what they were looking for.”

“Is that true?” Seven asked the Clock Twins.

Tick and Tock glanced at each other before shrugging. “It’s possible,” Tick muttered. “We’re probably the best at what we do, but it still would help to have a rudimentary road map.”

“How big is the defense mainframe?”

Tock shook his head. “I don’t think anyone really knows for sure. But think of it this way: the entire Internet is probably 600 exabytes. If rumors are true, the DOD mainframe is probably twice that.”

Even if I didn’t know exactly what they meant in terms of bytes, I could imagine something being bigger than the Internet. The Internet that went all over the entire fucking world. “How in God’s name is that information even stored?” I asked, incredulous. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“Do you know what an exabyte is?” Tick asked me.

I shook my head.

He grinned. “Then there’s really no point in explaining it to you. All you need to know is that it’s gigantic. We can do it, but it’s better to get all the help we can.”

“And this way, Tick and Tock can be with you in the field on the day of,” my dad said quietly. I saw how neatly we’d been trapped. “I can stay here and run things from the Tech Cave while they run things from a mobile tech unit in one of the vans.”

“Can the DOD trace you here?” Jason asked. “We can’t have this all failing in the middle because the FBI is raiding the Station.”

Tick and Tock looked insulted. “You think we can’t keep a team of computer nerds from tracking us?” Tock asked, his voice sharp. “Honestly, Jason, you have no faith in the power of Tick and Tock.”

“No faith,” Tick agreed morosely.

Jason rolled his eyes. “That usually comes with people who speak about themselves in the third person.”

“Should we take part of the security force with us?” Edna asked. “While I’d hate to even have the Station down one man, it may be beneficial to have extra hands with us.”

Seven shook his head. “I think they’d just get in the way. They need to stay here in case this is just a diversionary tactic. In case the Station is attacked while we are gone.”

“We should keep the satellite uplink on as long as possible,” Dan said. “Just so nothing happens that we’re not prepared for. We can always give the signal to kill it when we’re ready.”

I nodded. It was a plan, but I couldn’t help but shudder at how shaky it seemed. There were so many unknowns, so many ways for this entire plan to go wrong. Not only did we have to potentially deal with the Scarred King’s people, we had to worry about rescuing a group of captured Elementals. I couldn’t help but think how badly it could all end. How badly we could fail. “So many people,” I muttered as the TV showed another live shot of Quadratum Plaza. They moved and strolled and laughed and argued; they bought things, they sold things: books and souvenirs and drugs and flesh. This has to work, I thought. We can do this because it’s why we are here.

For once, the voices in my head were quiet.

“We have fourteen days, people,” Seven said as he put his hand on my shoulder. “We at least know this time what we could be facing. It’s time to show the people of this Station what we’ve been training to do. It’s time to show the world what Elementals can do.”

The Circle cheered excitedly. I was silent.

If only we’d known.

I WON’T go into too many specifics about those last two weeks; I fear that my story has gone long already, as it is. You’ve probably questioned my actions, my motives. You’ve probably wondered what lies at the end. But I will again warn you: this last may break your heart as cleanly as it broke mine. Things were said and things were… done, things I didn’t think were possible. How could I have been so stupid? Or so blind? That life I had in the Station, that life where I was among my own people, where I was with the Circle and with a man who loved me, even if I didn’t have the nerve to say it back. Looking back, I can see how easy it was to become overconfident, how sheltered I really was. I’d faced the Scarred King’s people twice before and had gained the upper hand both times. I knew I could defeat whatever was thrown at me. I knew that with the Circle by my side, we would succeed. I knew that Seven… God. I knew that Seven would be there, and he would be strong and brave and true, and even if a darkness (the darkness?) attempted to overtake me, he would stop it. Somehow, I almost believed in him, in us, in all of us. How could I not? The earnestness of the whole situation almost killed me.

We trained hard in those last days, harder then we’d ever done before. Hours upon hours were spent on the Training Grounds, the crack of fire, the roar of wind, the splitting of earth, the waves of water all bouncing around the room. Tick and Tock set up a makeshift command center down there, as well, so they could train and monitor their progress into the DOD mainframe. My father spent every waking moment either helping them or us. Dan and Edna attempted to give me a crash course in everything they’d learned in their long lives.

By the end of each day, my head ached, my body screamed, my eyes could barely hold themselves open. It was only then that we would stop, and Seven would all but carry me to the third floor and hold me under the hot jets of water in the shower, washing my hair gently with those big hands of his. I would lay against him, feeling the hot water easing the soreness in my muscles, groaning as he worked his fingers down, down, down until his soapy hand wrapped around my stiffened cock, and he would latch his teeth onto my neck as he stroked and sucked and pressed and loved. I would cry out my pleasure and collapse in his arms, spent and sated. He always dried me off slowly and carefully, putting me into sweats or shorts before placing me in the bed and wrapping himself around me as he told me how proud he was of me, how amazed he was by me, how much he loved me. I would fall into the darkness of sleep with his sweet words chasing after me.

I dreamt, of course, but it was all the same. There were two. There were Trees. There was fire and destruction and burning and death, because this would be war. I could almost feel myself getting used to it when I didn’t snap awake like I used to. I would be running through the ancient forest and the fire would overtake me but I wouldn’t burn, and I would slip out of the dream and into waking, the transition calm and smooth. My eyes would open, and I would hear Seven snoring softly next to me, an arm draped over my chest or a leg tangled with mine. My eyes would get used to the darkness around me, and I watched Seven for minutes that turned into hours. Finally, more often than not, I would fall back asleep as the sun began to rise outside the Station. And then it would start all over again.

We trained as hard as we could. Dan and Edna still couldn’t explain the lightning that sometimes formed in the storms I made. Nothing they’d read had indicated a Wind Elemental doing something even remotely like it. There was no indication that a previous Findo Unum was capable of such a feat (and let me tell you: that did nothing to help me). That strength came as it wanted to and left just as quickly. When I wanted it to happen, it wouldn’t. Seven wondered if there was still a block somewhere in my head, something holding me back from “realizing my true potential.” (His words, not mine—he knew how I felt about such trite meanderings when I would roll my eyes and mutter at him at how stupid that sounded. I told him my true potential would be to not set everyone on fire when I got angry. He didn’t think that was funny. Whatever.) There wasn’t enough time to explore the cause of the lightning further, not with the Plaza only a few days away. They said we’d look into it when the press conference was over. I agreed with them only to avoid sounding like I had no hope at all.

Did I have hope? I’m sure I did. I’m sure that cockiness that I sometimes felt helped to feed any notion of victory I might’ve had. But for every moment I had that told me we would survive this, that we were meant to win that day, there was a darker piece, soaked in oil that gurgled out its mirth, telling me the only way to survive was to burn them all. What’s a few hundred thousand Normals? it whispered, cruelly twisting Tick’s words into something monstrous. One flick of your wrist, one push at that burning in your chest and there won’t be a need to protect the cattle of humanity. Wouldn’t it just be so much easier to look down upon them and say no? No, I won’t help you. No, I won’t protect you. You’ve done nothing to deserve it. You’ve hated everything I am, and I will do nothing to help you. Burn. Just burn, already. I could no longer tell the voices apart in my head. I didn’t have time to wonder if it mattered.

Nero stayed away, even though he must have known what we were planning. The Pavilion was buzzing swiftly at the level of noise coming from the Training Grounds. People were told to stay away from Quadratum Plaza on December 18. They were told to tell any Elementals they knew outside the Station to avoid the Plaza. It wouldn’t be safe for them there. I don’t know what they thought we were going to do, but they knew it was something, something that caused people who’d stared at me reverently before to watch me with wary eyes, the fear barely disguised in their questioning glances. I controlled the uprising of anger I felt toward them. I curbed the insane desire to turn and scream that we were doing this for them, to save the ones they loved, to show the world that we could do good. I don’t think it would have mattered.

For fourteen days we gave it all we could. We didn’t know if it would be enough. But the one thing I felt from all of them—the Circle and Seven—the one thing I will go to my grave swearing on, is that I knew each and every one of them would have laid down their lives in the Plaza if it came to it. And not just for me. It would be for every Elemental in the country affected by the ERA, every Elemental in the world who’d ever been subjected to violence because of what they were. The Circle would die if called upon. Seven would die if called upon to do so. Selfishly, it was this last that worried me the most. I should have been thinking of all of them and how I needed to protect them, how I needed to keep them all safe. But I couldn’t. I didn’t. I thought only of him.

THERE is one thing left I would tell you before we move on to Quadratum Plaza, and it’s probably the most difficult thing I’ve said so far. Out of those fourteen days, out of the hours we spent working ourselves to the bone, there is one moment that rises above them all, one memory that I will carry with me until the day I die.

Looking back, I think I knew. Even before Seven told me, I think I knew.

Two nights before the end of my time at the Station, Seven walked into our bedroom, eyeing me on the bed as I lay stretched out before him. I smiled quietly at him as his eyes ran up and down my body. I reached down slowly, rubbing my hands along my chest and stomach, finally resting them on the fly of my jeans, flicking the buttons open one by one. I saw that familiar hunger growing in his eyes, and I thought I was about to get mauled. But then he shook his head, clearing away the lust from his eyes. “Get dressed,” he ordered, walking toward the closet and opening the doors.

“I think you’ve got this whole sex thing wrong,” I told him. “We want to take off our clothes. Not put on more.”

“I have something to show you,” he growled, throwing a heavy jacket on my face, followed by my scarf and gloves. “You mind me, now.”

I rolled my eyes as I huffed my annoyance. “We’re going outside? Seven, it’s snowing! It’s gotta be, like, twenty degrees outside!”

He grinned. “It’s a good thing you’re a Fire Elemental, then, yeah? You can never get cold.”

I swore at him quietly, but not so quietly that he couldn’t hear me. He put on his own wool coat before standing before me and buttoning up the front of my jacket, wrapping the scarf around my neck. “We’re not having sex outside,” I told him. “I like my dick where it’s at.”

He reached down and patted said object roughly. “I like it where it’s at too,” he said, grinning as my breathing grew rough. “But it’ll hold for a bit.”

He pulled me toward the elevator, and I let myself be dragged, staring back forlornly at the warm bed that looked so sad and empty. Seven scanned his thumbprint, and the elevator doors opened, and he pushed me inside. I was surprised then, when he hit the button on the very top, the one that would take us to the access door that led to the roof above the thirty-fourth floor. I thought about bitching some more, but it was easier to mold myself into his side and nuzzle against his chest.

Minutes later we stepped off the elevator and walked up a short flight of stairs. Seven scanned his thumbprint again, and the door to the roof opened. Bitter cold caused my eyes to sting, the snow swirling in and melting in my hair. I pulled the scarf up around my ears. Seven pulled me toward the edge, and I almost halted our steps right then, that old familiar fear curling in my belly, drawing up my balls until I was sure they’d never descend again. I looked out into the dark space before us, the snow falling beautifully, postcard perfect. Forty miles away, even through the snow, we could see the lights of Terra City gleaming brightly.

“What are we doing up here?” I asked, my curiosity outweighing the cold.

He didn’t answer for a moment, and I looked up at him, seeing his breath come out his nose in a quiet stream. A snowflake fell onto his eyelashes and got caught, and for some reason, I felt tears sting at the corner of my eyes. I didn’t know why.

“I used to come up here,” he said quietly. “Before you got here. Years before you got here. Whenever I was upset, or lonely. When I was angry or afraid. I would come up here and I would watch the City and pretend it was the whole world, wondering where you were.”

I said nothing. The lump in my throat wouldn’t let me.

“I would wonder where you were and I would think to myself, does he know me? Does he remember me? He was just a child. He was so little. Of course he doesn’t remember me. Of course he doesn’t know who I am.” He sighed. “Then I found out you were in the City and this view changed everything. No longer was I looking out at the world. I was watching those buildings in the distance, wondering if you were in one of them, and how easy it would be to find you. I almost did, hundreds of times. There were points where’d I’d be in the car and get halfway to the City before I realized what I was doing and have to stop. I’d turn around and drive home. I’d park the car where I’d gotten it from, and then I’d come right back here and watch some more. It felt like things would never change, that the future would never come. That you… that I would never get to see your face again.”

“Seven—”

“Let me finish, little man. I need you to hear me.” His voice was kind, but firm.

I nodded.

He turned me in his arms so he could see my face. “I never thought the day would come when I could feel you next to me, when I could see the smile on your face, the heart I know you have beating in your chest. I was always told, again and again and again, what you would mean to me, what it meant to be heart sworn. But even though I was told, no one could have prepared me for what it really meant. They could never understand. They could never know what it means to love you, to really love you. They know love, yes, but it’s because of what you will become. I know love because of who you are now. And nothing you could do will change that. I don’t care about what the future holds now. I don’t care about what will come. As long as I have you, I know I can face anything.”

“Seven,” I whispered as I felt his lips graze mine. “What’s going on?”

He cupped my face in his hands, his ocean eyes pained as they searched mine. “I have to tell you something now, something that I’ve kept from you, something that you need to know before we go to Quadratum Plaza.”

The chill I felt had nothing to do with the snow. “What is it?” I asked.

“You have to promise me something first, Felix.”

“What?”

He took a deep breath. “Close your eyes.”

I did. I could hear the snow falling around us. I could feel his breath upon my face.

“You promise me,” he breathed. “You promise me that whatever you hear, that whatever I say to you now, you know the only reason I kept it from you was to keep you safe.”

I hesitated, but only for a moment, squirming in his grip. “Oh, God, I promise. Jesus, Seven. What is it?”

“The Scarred King.”

The flare in my chest burst brightly. “What about the Scarred King?” I croaked out.

You know, it whispered. Even now, you know. You’ve known ever since you first heard that name. You’ve known since you knew the world was full of teeth and broken promises. You’ve known ever since that night what this moment would bring.

“You need to know who it is. Before….”

“Seven?”

“Yeah, little man?”

Please, no. “Who is the Scarred King?”

He lips pressed feverishly against mine, forcing my lips back against my teeth. I could feel the desperation in his kiss, the shudder that roiled through his body. I knew, just like the voice had whispered in my head. I knew what he was going to say, the name he was going to give it. I felt the oil bubble deeply inside of me, the flare in my chest causing it to ripple as it chuckled. He pulled away.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

I opened my eyes.

“Your mother didn’t die that night,” Seven said, his voice breaking. “Felix, she didn’t die. Her people came for her after you left. They were the police, the firemen, the EMTs. They pulled her out of the house and took her away. For a long time, it looked like she would die. But… but she didn’t. She lived. She woke up. She—”

I pulled away from him as I gagged. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and my vision tunneled as I bent over the edge of the Station. Vertigo washed over me in crashing waves, and tears fell from my eyes as I gasped, the snow swirling down around my head toward the ground hundreds of feet below. It was surreal, that moment, looking down at the ground far below me, the snow sliding past my face, the roaring in my ears, the feeling that I would never be able to take another proper breath again in my life.

You knew, it sneered, the oil or my conscience, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. You knew, somehow you knew. Maybe it’s something you’d never deliberately thought about, but you knew. Unconsciously. Instinctively. You knew. Think about it, Felix. Findo Unum. You never thought to ask your father what happened to her body? You never thought about that at all? Where was Mommy buried after little Felix burned her to death? Was there nothing left but ashes and flecks of bone that were just swept up with the remains of the house? Maybe a tuft of blonde hair on a charred skull. You never thought to ask if there would be an investigation when a dead body is found in a burned-out house? No. Of course you didn’t. You could only think that you had killed her. That she was trying to take you away and you couldn’t control the fire, you couldn’t stop her with your words so you did the only thing you knew how to do. You burned her. You exploded and you burned her and she was screaming as she was flung across the room, and you saw her clothes on fire, you saw her hair on fire, but what else did you really see? What else really happened? Seven came. The ceiling collapsed. Everything burned. But… what have you been told since then? What are the words of your teachers, the words they would have you know? Fire is death. Fire is destruction. But fire, Felix… fire is also rebirth. Whenever God (or is it the Tree?) is angry with the world, he’ll send a cleansing fire to eradicate the evil and sin that have corrupted the world. From those ashes, from that catastrophic correction, there is rebirth.

No. Oh God, no. No. No. No!

I felt Seven’s arms around me as he pulled me back into him. I struggled against his embrace, grunting at him to let me go, to get the fuck off me. I wanted to run. I needed to run. I needed for the big guy to let me go so I could run as fast as I could and never have to look back. It would be easier that way. It would be so much easier. He knew. He knew exactly what I was thinking. Seven whispered above my head, and then there was a push in my mind and he was there, too, overwhelming me, shoving the dark voice down as far as he could. It wasn’t far enough. I know, he whispered. I know. It blisters. It stings and burns. I can’t protect you from everything, no matter how much I want to. I’ve known that for a long time, and it kills me. You should never know this pain, you should never have to face this reality. If I could do anything to take away this agony, I would. If I could put it on myself, I would. But you can’t let it take you. You can’t listen to that voice, Felix. That voice that’s telling you that it was your fault. That voice that is telling you to run. You can’t listen to that because it will consume you. I can’t let that happen. I love you too much for that.

Why! I screamed at him in my head. Why didn’t you tell me?

Yeah, Seven? the oil mocked from somewhere in the deep. Why didn’t you tell us? Didn’t we deserve to know? Weren’t we special enough? Or was this your way of getting back at us? For being something you could never hope to be? We are Findo Unum. Being a Iuratum Cor is nothing. You’re still a Normal. You will always be a Normal. Normal Seven went to Heaven where he immediately tripped and fell. God said, Gee, you’re too Normal for me and—

Fuck off, Seven snarled at it. Get the fuck outta here. I felt him wrap himself around me, tighter in my head and out there on the rooftop.

It chuckled darkly.

“Who knows?” I asked aloud, my voice flat and wet.

Seven didn’t hesitate. The Council. The Circle. He paused. Then: Your father.

All of them knew? It howled in laughter. Remember that, Felix. Remember that when you are forced to make choices in the future. They all knew. They all knew and they all laughed at you behind your back, whispered about how she is, alive and scarred, and they would laugh at you. Oh, how they would laugh! But you know what? I bet, I just bet it was to hide their fear. They used laughter to cover up their fear. Because—

Only me, Seven whispered in my ear. Listen to me. Only—

Because, it said, louder, because they know that the Scarred King has a son, doesn’t she? If she is the darkness, if your mother is what you have been training to fight (or were they just watching you? seeing what you were capable of?), then wouldn’t they just think like mother, like son? That the apple didn’t fall far from the Tree? It laughed at its own wit.

I couldn’t think, and it was still almost impossible to breathe. I could feel snowflakes landing on my cheeks and in Seven’s beard, his face pressed down against mine as he growled at the oil dripping across the flare in my chest. It mocked him, snarling back with a childlike imitation of him as it clawed its way back up from the depths. I could feel it pressing against the walls of my stomach and chest, shoving its way through the fleshy resistance, dripping into my arteries, flowing into capillaries that shuddered at its presence. It filled my lungs, and I felt like I was drowning, my breathing constricted as the air wheezed out from my throat. It coated the cilia in the organs like cancerous tar before it pushed back out into the capillaries and arteries. My heart began to stutter as it forced its way into the superior vena cava, the inferior vena cava, and I screamed in my head, I screamed out loud as it consumed my heart. My head rocked back and my vision went red then black, and I felt a snowflake land on my tongue and melt, the single drop flowing down my throat before it, too, became oil-drenched. I could hear Seven shouting my name in my head and in my ears, and then he pushed harder and he pushed further, his forehead pressed against mine. I saw the ocean staring back at me, my reflection a disorganized chaos, my face stretched, my own eyes black and without reason.

Fight it! he shouted. Oh, God, fight it, Felix! This is not what you are! This is not what you will become!

I closed my eyes and saw him in my head, his hand outstretched across a lonely field where the flowers were drowning in black oil. A tree stood far off in the distance, unwavering. I moved my feet and felt the crude sucking them down, the wet popping sound sending chills down my spine. I took a step… and then another. And another. And another. He lies to you, the corrupted flowers whispered, their petals dripping as they opened and closed at my feet, biting into my legs. I couldn’t help but notice how different they sounded from the oil I felt inside me. I only had a moment to wonder why they weren’t one and the same before the flowers spoke: He’s lied to you about so much. What else is he keeping from you? What else don’t you know? Wouldn’t it just be easier to run? Or, better yet, lay down with us. Lay down with us, and we will carry you away from this falsity, this human—this Normal—who wants nothing more than to keep you locked away from everyone. He doesn’t love you. He can’t love you. You weren’t made to be loved. You… you were made to be feared. Respected. You were made to burn.

Seven shook his head, his eyes wide across that long black field, his hand still reaching for me. I could see him struggling to move, but the oil had crawled up his legs, reaching his thighs as it mewled, little offshoots snapping up to carry the main body higher. This isn’t what you are! he shouted at me, struggling as the oil pulled him down. I know you! I know you like no one else has before and I know your heart. I know your love. I know what you mean to the world. What you mean to me! Fight it, little man! Fight it and get to me!

I could hear his words, could see his face as it contorted in rage at the blackness below him. I understood what he said. But didn’t the flowers sound more rational? Didn’t the flowers seem right? It was so hard to move my legs, so hard to fight against the black tide pushing against me. Maybe the flowers were right. Maybe the oil that writhed within me was right. Maybe it would be easier to just lie down, to let the oil envelop me, cover my face and fill my nose. It would be easier to drown. I’d spent long years consumed by the nauseous guilt that I had killed my mother, that I had burned her to death, that I had rained down destruction upon her. And now? Now I find out she’s alive? That she has been alive all this time? She knew what I was. She knew what I’d become. They all knew. The prophecy had told them. This moment, this blinding dark moment had been told before I’d ever been born. Who was I to fight fate? What could I do against what had already been written?

Poor Felix, the flowers whispered as they lovingly stroked my legs. Poor Felix. It would be too hard to take another step. You must be so tired. Just lay down. Wouldn’t that be the best thing right now? We wouldn’t lie to you. We know all the truths. We’ll tell them to you. There are still things you don’t know. Things he’s still keeping from you. Bend down your head, and we’ll whisper them to you. We’ll tell you everything. We’re only flowers. It’s not in our genetics to lie.

A booming sound echoed throughout the field, bump-BUMP, bump-BUMP, bump-BUMP, and I could feel it vibrating throughout my skin, my arms, my chest. It began to stutter, and Seven grimaced as he called out to me, his hand going to his chest, and I knew it was his heart I was hearing, the beating sound reverberating throughout the field. The drumming began to fracture as Seven groaned, and I looked up at him, his face twisted in pain as the oil reached his chest, his hands coated black and shiny. Felix, he said beautifully, raggedly, painfully. Felix.

The flowers laughed.

Without warning, the black oil around me shot up into the air, latching onto my shoulders, the back of my head. The tendrils gripped the skin of my scalp and forced my head back and my mouth open, and I felt the first drip drop onto my tongue, and it was like the snowflake as it oozed down my throat, bitter and cold. I could feel it quivering in excitement as it fell down my esophagus.

Then, through it all: I love you! he shouted.

The oil stopped.

Love? I thought.

Yes, he shouted. Oh God, yes!

He lied to you! the flowers cried out.

Lies? I thought.

To protect you. Only to protect you.

Listen to how he lies, the mendacity of his words. He is deception. We are truth.

Truth, I thought.

This is the truth! Seven bellowed. I’m your truth! You’re my truth!

Seven? I thought.

Yes! Yes, little man, I’m here! I’m right here! The booming noise in the sky around me trembled… trembled… and stopped.

Seven. I could see him again through the oil as it receded from my eyes. The blackness had reached his shoulders and was crawling up his neck. But even then, I could see it hesitate, I could see it shaking. Was it fear that it felt then? Anger? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I had to get to him. I had to get to my heart, my home, my everything.

Ignis, I thought.

The world flashed brightly around me. The oil screamed out in rage as my hands erupted in fire. The inferno in my chest burned the crude off me, sizzling as it was flung away from me across the field. I pushed down toward the flowers below me, and the fire erupted toward the ground and exploded as it touched the flowers, shooting out from my body in a circular arc. The flowers cried out in pain as the oil on their petals and stamens burst into flames, the combustion rolling through the field, igniting everything in its path. The burning field stretched before me, the fire about to reach Seven, and even though I knew my fire couldn’t hurt him, the oil could, and it was roiling, tossing the flames higher and higher into the sky as it fought to burn him.

Ventis, I thought.

The air cracked around me, and it shifted until a storm swirled before me, lightning flashing at its center, and I pushed as hard as I could. The hurricane roared forward, parting the fiery oil field in front of me, tearing the flowers from the ground, their roots dripping as they were pulled into the winds. I ran after the tempest, the ground behind it clear, if only for a few seconds. Seven saw the winds stirring angrily toward him, and he smiled as the light began to fade from his eyes. Seven, I thought as I pushed the wind up from the ground and under my feet, launching me into the air, high above the field. I rolled over the storm as it twisted and groaned, and landed at his feet. The storm buffeted against my back as I pressed my left hand to his forehead and pushed again. The oil flew from his neck and shoulders in ropey strings that snapped back at me as they fell. I wrapped my arms around his waist as the storm overtook us, the winds howling in our ears, the oil and flowers bellowing their ire as they were flung from him. I felt his heart stumble in his chest and squeezed him tighter and tighter.

Get out of here, I whispered to him.

Not without you, he growled back, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head. Never without you.

I saw myself in the ocean again as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. The oil roared in protest as we stood in the middle of the hurricane, the field ablaze, the flowers ignited, the winds whipping through our hair. He put something in that kiss, something that tethered me back to him, something that caused a shift within me, and I pressed back as a tear slid down my cheek, and I knew it was black from the sticky trail it left as it fell, moving hungrily over my skin.

Seven, I thought. I… I—

I know, he said as his lips worked over mine. I’ve always known.

There’s two! the oil screamed, its voice different than what I’d always heard in my head. It was deeper, darker. Ancient. If it won’t be you, then it will be the other! Remember, there’s always two!

It’s time to leave, Seven whispered. Now.

I looked up at him and I pushed—

—I pushed again and—

—the oil screamed and—

—it tried to push back and—

—You are my heart, he whispered—

—Do you think it will be enough! it hissed at me—

—It has to be, I thought back as we were swept up into the air—

—We’re still here! it shouted up after us—

—It doesn’t matter, he breathed in my ear—

—I shuddered against him and we shot up—

—and out—

—and back onto the Station rooftop, the wind whirling around us, the cold grating harshly against my skin, snowflakes falling into my hair and melting onto my scalp, prickling as they dripped down my cheeks. I felt arms around me and I knew it was the oil, I knew the black crude had followed me out. I screamed in its grasp and I felt my head flex, the air alive around me and I pushed again, just to get it away, to make it end. I opened my eyes to watch the oil as it was flung from the rooftop, and my heart stopped when I saw Seven fly away from me, his arms outstretched as the wind carried him up and over the edge of the building. Time slowed as I saw his eyes upon mine, his hair swirling slowly in the wind. His looked surprised, but not angry. The snow swirled around him as he crashed into individual flakes, breaking them back down into water. I saw this. I saw it all. Then he disappeared over the side of the building and fell into the darkness.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was running, running like I’d never run before. I didn’t hesitate when I reached the edge of the Station and swan dived into the snowy space below me. The horizon shifted as the faraway lights of Terra City flashed in front of me, but then they were gone, the snow was gone, the building was gone, and all I saw was him below me. I brought my hands to my sides and pressed my legs together and sliced through the night air. His eyes were closed as I fell toward him. I screamed his name, and they snapped open and widened as he looked over his shoulder toward the rapidly approaching ground. I was so close. So close to him.

Let him go, it snarled. It no longer sounded like the flowers, but like me, that dark version of me. I knew then that they weren’t the same. They were independent of each other, and that made it all the worse. He lied to you! He knows what you are! Let him go!

I can’t, I whispered back.

I reached out my hand and he reached out his, and our fingers touched… and broke apart. I jerked my arm forward, and he caught me by the wrist and pulled me down against his chest, and I felt his breath in my ear as I raised my left hand toward the ground and pushed and pushed and pushed. The air split and snarled as the tornado struck the ground, the earth exploding outward as the side of the Station shook and groaned. I could hear alarms going off inside the Station as we hurtled toward the ground, too fast, much too fast. I pushed harder and felt the ground gouging out beneath us as the tornado tore into it. Lightning arced up through the twisting winds, and I felt it shock through my body, tendrils of electricity causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end. It rolled down to the tenuous connection between us, sliding over my fingers to his, and I could feel his hands tense in mine as his head jerked back, his skin coruscating with tiny flashes of light. But still he held me, his heart beating against mine. There was a bone-jarring crunch as we struck the ground, our legs collapsing underneath us, the winds flying around us. He pushed himself up off the ground and covered me with his body, his lips in my ear. “It’s over,” said my heart sworn, seizing above me as the electricity continued coursing through his body. “It’s over. It’s over, little man.”

I cracked then, clutching at him as the winds broke around us, dirt and bricks and glass falling around us. I heard him grunt as pieces fell onto his back. I could hear shouting as people exited the front of the building. I could feel them, I could feel them all, those members of the Circle as they raced toward us. They thought we were being attacked. They thought the Scarred King had come again. They didn’t know where we were and that scared them, but not because of what I could do, what I had in me. They were scared because they thought something had happened to us, to me. They thought I had been taken, that I had been killed, that Seven had been killed and that they wouldn’t live, they wouldn’t survive. There was fear there, yes, but not directed at me, but for me.

Lies, it whispered from somewhere deep. There will be truth. You will see.

Seven sat up and crushed me into his chest, and I felt his arms wrap around me as I fell into myself, the pieces breaking apart. Like he had when I was a child, the giant held me as I broke.

This is my home, I thought. Oh, please, please just let him be my home.

You’ll run, it promised. You just don’t know it yet.

Chapter 11

Promised to the heart of his desire and fate,
the Scarred King stares in wonder.

—Agnes Paracel

YOU’VE stuck with me this far, and for that I’m thankful. More than you’ll probably ever know. I wish I could give you what you deserve, what I’m sure you feel you’re owed. But this isn’t some story filled with magic where we all get what we want, where time will stand happily still on the final page until we meet again. This is real life. This is my life. I’ve warned you about what’s to come. I’ve told you what to expect. For better or worse, you’ve seen what has brought me to this point. You can judge me how you will. I don’t know if I would blame you.

I want… well, I don’t know if I should say what I want aloud. It’s a fragile thing, the remnants of my desire. One whisper, and I could see it easily broken. Just know that I do want and that I do wish. But the end is almost here. All that has come before will seem endless compared to how this finishes.

For that, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for so many things.

My name is Felix Paracel. I am an Elemental of fire and wind. I am Findo Unum, the Split One, the Halved Mind of this world. And if there is one last thing I would have you know before we reach these final pages, it’s that sometimes, no matter how hard we try, no matter how hard we want it to be so, sometimes there is no such thing as a happy ending.

This is my ending.

This is how I burn.

IT WOULD be said later, when the dust had settled and the fight was over (but before the reconstruction began—Terra City was nothing if not tenacious), that roughly one million people had shoved their way into Quadratum Plaza on that Thursday morning. It was pointed out (rather sardonically, I might add) that the government should have expected that mass of people to converge onto the Plaza, that you didn’t fuck with the citizens of Terra City and their right to assemble. They were grieving about the attack on the Cantio Building, they needed to console one another, to find solace with strangers who knew all too well what it meant to be violated. They were angry at the Elementals for what they were told was the unfettered audacity of those who could control earth and water, fire and wind. In the days leading up to Quadratum Plaza, Elementals were dragged from their homes and beaten with fists and rocks and clubs. They were left unconscious in the streets. People walking down the sidewalk would more often than not do nothing to help. After all, it wasn’t their problem, was it? Someone else would call the police. Eventually. And even if they didn’t, they were just Elementals. They could fight back. If they really wanted to.

Most didn’t. Most were too scared.

So of course it seemed natural that everything would come to a head at the Plaza. The anger of the general populace, the fear the Elementals felt, that seismic undercurrent that flowed through the City. Something was going to happen. This was history, after all. And if there is one thing people love, it’s to say they were part of something historic, so they could tell their friends and families years later that on the day the Elementals were finally held accountable, they were there.

They funneled into the Plaza like cattle, pushing and shoving, laughing and shouting. The lines took hours because of metal detectors and body searches, similar to pat-downs at the airports. Guns were confiscated, as were knives and pipes and hand sanitizers. Makeup. Forks. One man had a sword, another a World War II-era grenade. Those people were arrested.

Then there was the alcohol, the copious amounts of beer and hard liquor carried in twelve-packs and hip flasks, hidden under clothing or in purses. One woman had curled tiny bottles of vodka into her hair. The security and police laughed at them as they took it all away, saying didn’t all these people know they could just buy alcohol inside the Plaza? So what if it was watered-down beer in a plastic cup for ten bucks. It was still alcohol. People grumbled and complained. But in the end, they went in anyway. How could they not? This was history. They could survive a few hours without drinking.

BEFORE we headed into the subway tunnels six blocks from Quadratum Plaza, Tick pulled me aside. He and Tock were staying behind for the time being, set up in a mobile version of the Tech Cave parked along Fifty-First and Prodere and uplinked with my father back at the Station.

Tick’s eyes flickered nervously around us as people pushed their way toward the Plaza. I glanced down at his grip on my arm, feeling how clammy his palm was against my skin. Seven was behind me, tightening the straps of a backpack onto my shoulders. He leaned forward and placed a wireless headset in my ear. I waited for Tick to speak first.

“You… you’ll be careful, right?” he asked me quietly, looking embarrassed.

I cocked my head at him. “As much as I can be. Why? What’s going on?”

Tick shook his head. “Probably nothing. But can’t… can you feel it too? Something’s off.”

I couldn’t tell him that yes, of course I felt it too, that I felt it down to the marrow in my bones, that marrow floating in a sea of black oil. I couldn’t tell him of the storm raging in my head and heart. I could see the edgy dart of his eyes, and I told myself he was watching the crowd behind me, making sure we weren’t overheard, we weren’t being watched. I wondered then when he’d found out about my mother. Had it been the very first day that Seven had found them? Or did he wait until they were comfortable in the Station before he spoke? The story Seven had told me now seemed scarred and broken, the pieces not quite fitting together as they should have.

I couldn’t tell Tick that something was off because to me, it was him that was off; it was all of them, who’d conspired around me. I felt Seven’s hands graze my arms gently, reassuringly, but I felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature outside, the snow that was threatening to fall.

Don’t do this, it pleaded, its voice cleared of any crude. You can’t do this. Tell them now. Tell them something’s wrong, that Tick’s right and something is wrong. That you can feel it in you but that it’s also coming from the outside.

What good would it do? came the dark reply.

“We’ll be fine,” I told Tick. “Just make sure you stick to the plan. It’ll be fine, wait and see.” He didn’t look like he believed me but nodded as he turned back to his brother. They put their heads together and started whispering back and forth, their fingers flying over dual keyboards set up in the back of the van. Binary code slashed across the screen as they grumbled to themselves. Tick barked an order to my father over the headset, and my father snapped back. I could feel the rest of the Circle start to crowd up behind me as they watched and waited.

“Well?” Seven asked. “Can you get into the Suppressor program or not?”

“Oh, sorry,” Tock scoffed. “I’m only trying to hack into the Department of Defense mainframe to commandeer a satellite in order to track when all of our abilities will be turned off and to save a group of Elemental prisoners and hundreds of thousands of Normals that I don’t know. I’ll try to go faster. My bad. So sorry.”

Seven rolled his eyes. “You could do it yesterday.”

“That was yesterday,” Tock retorted. “The coding evolves every five seconds. It takes time to track it down.”

“How much longer?”

“Just… another… second,” Tick said. “Where are you hiding?” His fingers flew faster. “You son of a bitch, where are you?”

“There!” Tock said excitedly. “Look.” He typed in a string of commands across the screen, each becoming more and more convoluted, until a program opened, a warning popping up on the screen labeling the entire file TOP SECRET LEVEL BLACK. The words underneath promised life imprisonment for treason if accessed without authorization. I wondered coolly if life imprisonment would even be an option. I thought it more likely that if caught, a person would probably just disappear permanently.

“Level Black?” Dan frowned. “I’ve never heard that classification before.”

“It was there last night,” Tick said. “I didn’t think the DOD color-coded their classification levels.”

“They don’t,” my father said over the headset. “However Cold-War-sounding it may seem, the most sensitive materials are still only dubbed ‘top secret’. There hasn’t been a change made to the classification system since the 1940s.”

“Is it a military thing, then?” Seven asked Amy.

She shook her head. “Not that I’ve ever heard. But I’ve been out for a few years. It’s possible things have changed, but I don’t know.”

“What do those mean?” I asked, pointing to the screen. “I don’t remember seeing that yesterday.” After the words LEVEL BLACK was the following line: Classified 1.4(a)(e)(g)(h)

Tick flipped open his laptop and searched. “Okay, ‘1.4’ is a header for the classification categories under the top secret heading. ‘A’ is for… military plans and weapon systems.”

“Makes sense,” Jason said. “If what we’ve heard is correct, the military would definitely be interested in the Suppressor.”

“And ‘e’,” Tick continued, “‘e’ is for technological and scientific matters relating to national security. ‘G’ is along those lines, but for the vulnerabilities and capabilities of those matters and systems used.”

“The ERA was just a front,” I muttered. “This was their goddamn plan all along.”

Seven wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me to him tightly. I thought about pushing him away, but it was easier to rest my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beating in my ear, like it had been when it had echoed over that oily field in my head. It was strong and steady. He was strong and steady. My heart ached as I felt his chin rest on the top of my head. I just needed to open my mouth. I just needed to say what I was thinking, to say what I was feeling. Tick had been right: it was all off, it was all wrong. I tried once and failed. I tried a second time but stopped myself.

You could, it urged me. You could tell him now. There’s still time. You can’t keep up these walls in your mind. He is your Iuratum Cor; you can’t block him out. He can’t help you if he doesn’t know!

Pretty, pretty lies, the dark voice sighed. Don’t you want to run yet? I know nothing of Suppressors or satellites, but I do know of oppressors, those that would deny you your true potential. You were made to burn, Findo Unum. Press your hands against the chest that houses that beating heart in your ear and push. That’s all it would take, you know. Then you could run.

There’s always two, I thought quietly.

I inhaled him briefly then, that familiar pine that smelled like home, the strength beneath my hands like a beacon. He rumbled quietly as his arms around me tightened. Maybe I knew, even then, even before the events that followed, that I would run, that the oil knew me better than I knew myself. It begged for me to burn him, to burn them all, but I couldn’t. Not even then, when I felt I was at my darkest. I couldn’t. The Circle was my family, Seven my heart, and even though I believed the dark voice to be correct, that they didn’t trust me as I didn’t trust them (how could we, with the lies and the secrets?), I was not so far gone that I couldn’t see who they were to me, to the world. I wouldn’t hurt them when I ran. Not if they stayed out of my way. I closed my eyes and wondered if this was good-bye.

“And the last one?” Edna asked quietly. “What’s the last letter mean?”

There was silence from Tick, silence that stretched longer than it should have. I opened my eyes and saw his face had gone white as he stared down at the computer screen. “Tick,” Seven said sharply. He didn’t move. His brother tapped him on the arm, and he shook his head.

My father sighed in our ears, the connection so clear that he could have been standing right next to us. “The ‘h’ means weapon of mass destruction. Or at least the potential to be considered that. I feel that if the testing doesn’t go well, or if the ERA doesn’t give the results that are needed, then the Suppressor will be used to eliminate the problem.”

“What?” I exploded. “How the fuck did you fail to mention that?” I pulled away from Seven roughly as I snarled, “You think you would have said something about the fact that they were going to kill us all!”

“I didn’t know for sure!” my father said angrily. “It was a theory I was working on. I had no proof and I wasn’t about to speculate!”

“That’s not good enough!” I shouted back. “What the hell is going to happen if they regain control of the satellite while we’re down in the tunnels!”

“They won’t,” Tock said quietly. “Tick and I are ready, Felix. We can do this.”

I looked at him, feeling the storm raging in my own eyes. I wondered how I looked to them then, the anger radiating from me in waves, my jaw set, my eye twitching. I glared at Tock, but he didn’t back down, didn’t shy away. I could feel Seven next to me again, doing that calming thing he seemed to do those days. I put up the walls in my head as I felt him enter there. It’s all right, he thought at me. We’ll figure this out. You and me. I could feel him press up against the walls, but he didn’t try to knock them down and he didn’t ask about them. And then, like always, I did calm, I did relax, as much as I was able.

You need him, it pleaded. You need him for moments like these. You can’t run. You just can’t.

You don’t need anyone, the oil countered. Relying on others is a sign of weakness. And relying on those who have shown you deceit? Well, wouldn’t that just be stupid? It’s almost time. Almost time to run. You’ll be able to skip and frolic in that field all day! Won’t you like that, Felix? Won’t that just feel so good? You and I can go there together. Just you and me.

The screen showing the Suppressor program beeped. A box appeared in the middle of the screen: 00:05:00:00.

“Uh, is that in hours or minutes?” Jason asked nervously as we all stared.

“Minutes,” Edna said, her voice quiet. “The speeches start in two hours. They couldn’t wait longer than that to begin.”

With that, the timer began: 04:59… 04:58… 04:57.

“Shit,” Seven swore as he pulled me to him again.

“It’ll be okay, though, right?” Dan asked in a shaky voice. “We knew this was going to happen. We knew we’d have to be under the Suppressor, at least until we found the prisoners. Right?”

And wonder of wonders, they all turned to me, one by one. I could even hear my father holding his breath from so many miles away. I watched each of them for a moment, the Circle and my heart sworn, the conflicting voices screaming in my head, telling me to trust and to run and to believe and to burn. Miles above us, a satellite was spinning quietly through space, the computer on board counting down until it would release an invisible genetic dampener, and all of them were looking at me. I resented them. I hated them. But… they were right. Even without saying a single thing, they were right. I was Findo Unum, the Halved Mind. We had to get through this day. I could worry about the rest later. This I promised myself.

Okay, my conscience agreed weakly.

Okay, the oil chuckled. We’ll worry about the rest later. Don’t you forget. I’ll be waiting. I may even be able to help with whatever comes.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, my voice stronger than it had been in days. “We knew this was coming and we came anyway. Dad, you said that prolonged exposure is what normally resulted in death, right?”

04:02

“Yes,” he said, the sounds of his keyboard clacking through the earpiece. “Usually among the weaker Elementals, death was the result of five or six hours of exposure to the Suppressor. Even if we factor in that the signal is boosted coming from the satellite to cover a wider area and to be able to reach the tunnels, you guys should be fine. If we use Tick and Tock’s scale on Elemental powers, the majority of you are rated a four or five. I would give yourselves three hours before you start to worry. But obviously, the shorter the better.”

“Will it hurt?” Tick asked, sounding just like a child. He looked miserable. “Will it hurt when it comes?”

My father paused. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I know that the death suffered is not pleasant, at least from what I’ve been able to read on the subject, but I don’t know what will happen when it reaches you. I expect you will feel something, probably Otis and the Clock Twins more than the others.”

03:41

Otis pushed his way to us. I could see past the van that the crowds were thinning out, the last people rushing toward the Plaza in hopes of still being able to get in. Otis patted me gently on the shoulder as he walked by and then scooped up both of the Clock Twins out of the back of the van, crushing them in his massive arms. “We’ll be fine,” he growled. “I’ll stand by ya when it hits. Maybe I can block some of it ’cuz I’m so big. I’ll protect ya.”

02:48

“I don’t think it works that way, you big oaf,” Tock gasped out, craning his neck to look toward the sky. His brother buried his face in Otis’s arms and said nothing.

“We’ve all known hardship before,” Edna said, her head held high. “We’ve all experienced pain. We’re all here by choice. We can get through this.” She took Dan’s hand in her own. My Magisters turned their faces upward.

01:59

Something was wrong. We’d been foolish to come here. Why the fuck hadn’t we thought this through?

I turned to Amy and Jase. “Listen to me,” I said quickly, glancing up at the sky. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. I think we’ll be fine, but should something happen to us, you have to get Seven out of here.”

“What?” Seven snapped, pulling back from me and putting his hands on my shoulders. He gave me a shake, and I felt my head snap back and forth. “I’m not gonna fucking just leave you here!”

“Think about it!” I growled at him. “If something happens to us, to me, and if everything we’ve been told about the Findo Unum is true, then you’ll become Split. You’ll have to get out of here as quick as you can!” I glanced at the timer: 01:17.

He scowled down at me, the anger and hurt in his eyes almost palpable. “Like hell! I’m staying here. I don’t fucking care about that! I’m not leaving you.” He reached for me again, but I pressed my hands against his chest to hold him off.

“He won’t want to go,” I told Amy and Jase, who watched us with wide eyes. “But you have to make him. Shoot him in the leg if you have to. But get him the fuck out of here!”

“Felix!” Seven barked. “It’s not happening!”

“Jason,” I said. “Promise me.”

“Jason, you keep your fucking mouth shut—”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked me with pained eyes.

00:58

Seven stepped in front of me, shielding me from Jason. “Now listen here!” he roared. People turned and stared. The big guy didn’t care, panic and terror naked on his face.

“Yes,” I said.

“We promise,” Amy said, closing her eyes. “We’ll do what we can.”

Seven whirled around on me. His eyes were wide and shell-shocked. “Felix!” he shouted in my face. “Why are you talking like this! You stop! You stop it now!”

00:42

“Listen to me, big guy,” I said, reaching up to cup his face.

“No! You don’t get to decide this!”

“We don’t have a choice,” I told him softly. “We knew it could come to this.”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he insisted. “You’re just trying to scare me.”

“If it does, you run.”

00:26

“Fuck you. I won’t!”

I did my best to keep my anger in check. I tried to kiss him gently on the lips, but he pulled my face up to his and smashed his lips against mine, his tongue demanding more. His breath was harsh against my face, and I gave him what I could. Please don’t let this be the end, I thought. I don’t know what’s going to happen if I live, but please don’t let this be the end.

“The satellite is locked onto a four-block radius around the Plaza,” my father said quietly in my ear. “Felix, it’s going to be fine. I know it.” I ignored the tremble in his voice.

00:13

“Thanks, Dad.” I turned my face up to Seven. “You run, you hear me?”

The ocean in his eyes was angry and defiant. “No.”

00:10

“You have to survive if I don’t,” I begged, my voice breaking.

His jaw twitched. “No.”

00:06

My eyes widened as Tick moaned, as Tock shuddered, as Otis gripped them tighter.

00:05

I felt a tear slip onto my cheek as Dan and Edna hugged each other softly, their eyes closed.

00:04

I looked up at Seven as Jason and Amy held hands, watching over their Elementals.

00:03

“Run!” I shouted at him.

“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips against mine.

00:02

00:01

00:00

Firing Sequence Initiated.

“Seven,” I breathed.

At first, there was nothing.

I looked up into the sky as snow began to fall. I didn’t feel any different. I wasn’t dead. The flare in my chest burned as brightly as ever. Maybe it didn’t work, I thought. Maybe we were wrong about this whole thing.

No, the oil whispered. It comes.

And then, a faint pulse high above the sky, behind the clouds. I might have imagined it, I don’t know. But then the clouds above the City snapped apart briefly, and the snow shook and rattled as it fell. The computer screens in the back of the van began to blur and short. The headset in my ear filled with static, and I could hear my father above the noise shouting my name, screaming for me to answer him. But I couldn’t then; it wasn’t possible. I couldn’t answer my father because the invisible force of the Suppressor smashed into the ground, covering me like a wet blanket. I felt heavy and weak, the flare in my chest muted and compressed. I bent over as I gagged, my head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Dan and Edna slumped to their knees, their faces white. Tick and Tock collapsed into the back of the van, Otis covering them as best he could, all breathing heavily, sweat pouring off their faces. But almost immediately, the more severe effects seemed to pass for them and they rose unsteadily to their feet, slower than they normally would have, but able to do so nonetheless.

But not me. I couldn’t catch my breath, I couldn’t focus, and the world swam in front of me. The pavement under my hands felt elastic and soft, as if I could push right through it if I chose to do so. The colors around me brightened and sharpened, and for a moment I was—
in a field so far away and there was a tree

—and then I snapped back, shaking my head, trying to clear my thoughts. But as I shifted my head from side to side, the colors of the world bled together, leaving trails streaking across my vision like wet paint, and the pavement beneath my hands moved again and I felt—
grass under my hands and it was soft and I could hear a bird chirping somewhere off in the distance and I wanted to open my eyes but I couldn’t because the perfume in the air spoke of flowers and I knew where I was and what waited there for me and it was

—wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real because It didn’t exist, the Tree was just something made-up, some legend that had become infused with my consciousness, some metaphysical allegory for how Elementals were supposed to see God.

I could hear Seven shouting my name, and I could feel his hands upon my back, but I couldn’t gather the strength to look at him, to reassure him that I was fine, that everything was going to be okay. I couldn’t do anything except stare at my hands as the pavement became liquid and I fell into it, and—
my face touched grass and a breeze blew gently across my scalp, and I could feel the flowers bending against my ears, the petals tickling the fine hairs they found there. The earth beneath my hands was real, and I opened my eyes and saw an ant crawl over my knuckle. A ladybug landed on my arm. A bee buzzed nearby and lighted upon a western wood lily that dipped with the weight of the fat insect. “Felix,” a voice said, so very, very close to me, and I closed my eyes again because I knew that voice and

—the pavement was hard against my palms, I could feel the rocks pressing up against me, could smell the dark rank that was Terra City, ozone and exhaust. I opened my eyes, and someone gasped and said, “Oh, my Jesus, his eyes are on fire,” and I closed them again. I could feel strong arms upon my back, sweet words in my left ear, and I knew it was him, that it was Seven and he was my tether to this world, but I—
couldn’t stay away from the field where the sun shone down on my face, where the breeze was cool and gentle, where the oil that had invaded my head and heart felt loose and calm. I pushed myself up to my knees and sat back on my heels and tipped my head toward the sky and breathed in deeply, the brisk clean air filling my lungs and leaving as I exhaled. It felt real; it was real and

—a horn honked, a woman laughed, Seven shouted, “Felix!”—
a bird sang an aching song, the wind fluttered, the Tree said, “Felix,”

—and I felt my body start to seize, and my eyes rolled back in my head and my teeth chattered together, and I couldn’t make it stop, I couldn’t stop the grand mal from ripping through my body and then it was like I—
it was like I flipped. I flipped over to the field, to the other side, to someplace that shouldn’t have existed. I am rational, I thought frantically as fear prickled my skin. I am rational thought. The tremors ceased, my jaw stopped clenching. I opened my eyes and saw a cerulean blue sky overhead, deep and beautiful. I sat up and saw the flowers bending in front of me. I cringed as I waited for them to call out to me, to laugh and drip with black oil, to tell me to lay down, that the Circle was lies, that Seven was lies, that I had to rest, and wouldn’t it just be easier to rest? These flowers didn’t say a word. They were normal flowers. Well, as normal as flowers could be in a field that didn’t appear to be on Earth

In the distance, as expected, was the Tree.

I rose to my feet as the wind blew through Its branches, causing them to rock back and forth as if the Tree were waving me closer. I took a step, and I could feel the ground beneath my feet, and I looked down in surprise and saw that I was naked, my clothing having disappeared at some point during my trip to this place. It seemed fitting, so I didn’t worry about it much.

The flowers kept their silence as I reached the Tree, Its magnificently thick trunk black and solid, rising up higher than was physically possible for normal trees to do. I wanted to press my palm against the trunk, but I didn’t know what would happen if I did, so I kept my hands at my sides.

Only then did I remember the dream, that dream I’d had the night my mother had come for me. How I’d seen Other Felix create a gigantic wall of fire, how my melted body had been lifted up through the branches as I saw the world below burn. I remembered how the Tree had warned me. The weight of what grew before me, that this thing actually existed (for it did exist— as every part of my body screamed for this to be a dream, I knew it wasn’t) crashed down upon me, leaving me shaken and breathless.

“Why am I here?” I croaked out.

“Such a deep first question,” the Tree sighed, Its voice deep and gravelly. “Why are any of us here?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Two strong branches partway up the trunk shifted upward, and I realized the Tree had just shrugged. “Are you sure?” It asked.

“I don’t have time for games,” I said, scowling. “We’re cutting it close as it is.”

“And yet, here you are.”

I rolled my eyes. “You called me here.”

“Did I?” It asked, amused. “I must be pretty powerful to do something like that.”

I looked around. We seemed to be alone. “Where are they?”

“Who?” The Tree sounded genuinely confused.

“The Prima.”

“Oh, them,” the Tree said, the distaste evident in Its voice. “I thought it best for it to be just you and me for the time being.”

“What do you want?” I asked. A dragonfly the size of a cat flew by my face.

It sighed again, sounding more morose than ever. “You’ll lose much this day,” It said. “I’ve warned you again and again about what’s to come. You have chosen not to listen.”

“You’ve done nothing of the sort,” I retorted. “You’ve hidden behind veiled responses like the rest of them.”

Finally, the oil whispered.

The Tree shifted Its branches, and they cracked and shook high above me. A large globular streak of sap leaked down the trunk. “Veiled?” It chuckled. “I told you from the beginning that you were never meant to love, that Septem was never meant to love you. I told you this as a youngling, and you chose to forget it. Don’t you speak to me about veiled, child of Ignis and Ventus. You know nothing of what it means to be veiled.”

“He is my heart sworn,” I countered. “The Findo Unum and Iuratum Cor are bound. It’s the way it has always been.”

“Is it now?” the Tree mused. “And how do you figure that?”

“It’s what I was told.” My argument felt weak.

“Really? And who told you this?”

I watched the Tree warily. “Seven,” I said. “The Council. The Circle.”

“Ah, so it was mankind and womankind that told you this. I wonder who told them?”

“Whoever came before them,” I said slowly.

It laughed. “Is that so? So you are told you are Split and that you are destined to be with this one person and you just accept it? Because you were told to do so? How positively quaint.”

“Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?” I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Isn’t that why there is a Split One and the Iuratum Cor?”

The Tree shrugged again. “What do I know? I’m just a puerile old thing. I only created everything. Far be it for me to tell you what to believe.”

And then I heard

—“Felix!”—
a voice call out across the field, and I knew that voice because it called to my heart and soul. It was Seven, and he sounded terrified. I had dallied too long here in this field, with this Tree, and I needed to leave, to get back to where I was needed. I shook my head sharply, and the colors again bled in front of me and I felt a shift happen

—and I was back in the City, Seven staring down at me, his handsome face marred with furious terror. I smiled up at him as I opened my eyes and then I—
was beside the Tree again. I felt one of Its branches lower and touch me on the forehead, and I could hear it whispering in my mind: Not yet, Halved Mind. There is more I would have you hear. You should know that the idea of fate and love, of Findo Unum and Iuratum Cor, is a folly made by Man. You are all such destructive beings, such harsh creatures, but despite that, you all have a romantic heart. It’s quite the perplexing quandary, one I’ve ruminated on for a time longer than you could imagine. You love the idea of being in love. It fascinates me. It angers me. I will tell you the same thing I’ve told the others who came before you. You are not meant to be loved. You are not meant to love in return. Fight it… or burn. The choice is yours. I no longer have the desire to care one way or another.

This last felt like a lie. As It spoke, I watched the sap drip down the Tree, mottled and dark. It was only then I saw it for what it really was: oil. The sap was oil and it was black and wet, and I looked up the trunk of the Tree and saw the porous openings all leaking the black crude. I took a step back, and the Tree branch released my head, and It chuckled.

“Now you see,” It said.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “You’ve been corrupted.”

One branch shook up and down, signifying a nod. “Much like you are becoming yourself, yes. I thought I could avoid it. I thought I could stop it from happening. I was angry when the Firsts created Man and Woman. After all, it was I who had given them life. They should have worshipped me. They should have bowed at my roots in awe for all that I had given them. Instead, they turned and created you, allowing themselves to be worshipped. They left me all alone while they played with their new toys. I became angry and jealous and hurt. It was a shock to find that even I could not avoid such frivolous emotions. I let it fester within me. I thought I could destroy their silly little world. But… they thought different. They shared gifts that were not theirs to begin with. So I sought to take it all back. And I’ve tried again and again and again.”

“My mother?” I shouted at It. “You made my mother what she is?”

It laughed. “No. Your mother is not my making. She was a… surprise. No, I had a different plan this time. She’s just trying to beat me to it.” Its trunk groaned as It bent over toward me. “If anyone made her what she is, Findo Unum, it was you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I whispered. “Why should I listen to anything you say? You’ve lied to me as much as any of the others. You said by staying with Seven that I would in turn be corrupted. You said I had to turn away from him in order to avoid it.”

“And that is still true,” the Tree said. “You, like the others before you, have the blackness in you, the means to burn. Even with your heart sworn, it boils up inside of you, and there is a part of you, a dark part, to be sure, that enjoys the power it gives you, that overwhelming sense of strength. You don’t need him. He holds you back. It’s not considered corruption if you embrace it. You already feel it boiling up inside of you. It just takes one last step. I can promise you that any fear you have will just… melt away.”

And then it came again, Seven screaming

—“FELIX!”—
and I knew the Tree was stalling for time, trying to keep me here in this field of flowers, in this place that had long since become corrupted. I turned and ran, and the flowers began to grip at my ankles and scream and plead and beg for me to lie down, to just rest in this place. I heard him call my name again and

—I was on my back, the pavement beneath me, eight worried faces staring down at me, my father’s voice in my ear. That heavy feeling still felt like it was covering my whole body, and I knew the Suppressor was in full force all around us.

I groaned as I sat up. “How long was I out?” I asked as I popped my neck. Seven cupped my face in his hands and brought his lips fervently against mine. I smiled quietly around his kiss. “I’m okay, big guy,” I told him. “Aside from feeling like I’m underwater.”

“It was only a minute or so,” he snapped, running his hands all over my body as if checking to make sure all my parts were accounted for. “But it was the longest fucking minute of my life. Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again!”

“Your eyes were on fire,” Jason blurted out. “You opened your eyes, and it was like you were burning from the inside out.” The rest of the group murmured their worried consensus.

I reached up and felt my face. The skin felt fine, maybe a little warm, but not burnt. “I don’t know what that was,” I said.

“Can you stand?” Seven asked as he pulled me up.

I could. “I’m fine,” I said to him again. I looked at the rest. “How’re you all?”

Dan shook his head. “I feel… muted,” he said. “I know my abilities are there and I can feel it inside me, but I can’t touch it.” He raised his hands and frowned in concentration. His fingers twitched as a bead of sweat drifted down his forehead, but nothing happened. “At least we know the Suppressor works,” he muttered.

“It’s like we’re heavier,” Tick said. His brother nodded in agreement. “It feels wrong.”

“Can’t we just stop it?” Otis asked as he grimaced. “I have a big gun, but I want to play with my fire some more. I hate it!” He flexed his hand in front of him and scowled when nothing happened.

“Not yet,” I told him. “We have to find the prisoners first.” I looked at Jase and Amy. “Do you guys feel any different?”

They shook their heads.

“What about you?” Edna asked me. “Can you do anything still?”

I closed my eyes and was surprised to see that the flare in my chest still burned, albeit an extraordinarily smaller version of its normal existence. I attempted to wrap my hands around it, to pull it up and out of me, but my fingers met with a spongy resistance, an invisible field that surrounded the flare as it flickered weakly. I searched my head and found the same with the wind that resided there. If I had more time, I was sure I could force the field apart and take back what was mine. But the minutes were flying by as it was, and we needed to get underground. I shook my head. “It’s there,” I told them quietly. “I can still feel it there, but I can’t grab it.” They all nodded at me unhappily.

“Dad?” I asked. “How’re things from your end?”

“I’m fine here,” he said in a shaky voice, the connection scratchy and weak. “But I must agree with Seven. Never do anything like that again.”

“I’ll try,” I said, looking at the big guy. He hovered close, his hand on my shoulder, looking down at me defiantly, as if he expected me to shrug him off. I felt him trying to push into my mind, to see what was there. I felt angry at the unwelcome invasion and quickly threw up the walls that blocked him from seeing any further. I didn’t know how to tell any of them about what I’d seen, what the Tree had told me, at least not yet. We had a job to do.

I looked at the Clock Twins, their faces still white. “You guys okay to do this?”

They glanced at each other before nodding resolutely. “We’ll be fine,” Tick said, his voice small and shaking. “Just hurry so we can turn this damn thing off.”

“Tock, you were the one that found where they were taking the prisoners. Has anything changed?”

He shook his head as his slender fingers flew across the keyboard. “Everything still looks the same. They should be held under the Quadratum Station entrance in the old Mendacium tunnels.” He pulled up a schematic on the screen and traced the outlined paths we were to take. “You’ll head underground to the subway platform right below us. From there, you’ll take a service entrance down to the older tunnels. They split here,” he said, pointing to two diverging paths, “so the first team of Seven, Felix, and Dan will take the left tunnel and the second team of Amy, Jason, Otis, and Edna will take the right tunnel. Obviously, this is in case one of the tunnels is blocked off. I don’t think they should be, but you never know, and we shouldn’t take that chance. Should the paths prove clear, you’ll meet here.” He pointed to where the tunnels converged again. “At that point, the tunnel will curve into the Mendacium Station. That’s where the test is being conducted.”

I smiled at him. “You did great work by finding this,” I told him quietly. He grinned at me as he blushed.

“It wasn’t that great,” Tick mumbled.

“And what about any sentries?” Amy asked. “What should we be expecting as far as resistance?”

Tock shook his head. “As best as I can see, the group mainly consists of scientists and medical personnel intent on studying the effects of the Suppressor. There will most likely be a security force, but all indications show that it will be negligible at best. We have the element of surprise.”

Seven nodded. “Once we reach the Mendacium Station, we’ll confirm the targets and give the cue to disrupt the Suppressor. You boys sure that can be done?”

Tick nodded. “We cooked up a computer virus that shifts every three seconds and multiplies anytime it’s attacked. It’ll take them weeks to clear it out of the DOD mainframe.”

I was impressed. “You made something like that?”

Tick grinned. “I did. It’s called the Hydra.”

Tock snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Fitting,” my father murmured in our ears, the connection weak but his voice clear. “They haven’t yet detected our presence, and by the time they do, it will be too late.”

“We’ll call for you two then,” Amy said. “After you’ve launched your virus, you guys get down into the tunnels as quick as you can. Once you’ve arrived, we’ll have surveyed the situation and figured out the best course of action.”

“And we’re positive the Suppressor isn’t going to interfere with our communications?” Dan asked. “Especially that far underground?”

“We’ve been able to boost the bandwidth,” my father said. “It’ll be rough, but we should all be able to maintain contact. But if we have to go blind, we’ll still give you the hour we planned before we disrupt the satellite.”

“Why can’t they just go with us, Sevvy?” Otis asked, his face scrunched in deep concentration. “They got bags for their computers. I don’t wanna leave ’em here all by themselves. They’re just little guys.”

Seven smiled at his friend. “We can’t be sure the laptops will work down there, buddy. We can’t run that risk. They’ll join us soon enough.”

Otis gave a look that showed he thought splitting up was the stupidest idea in the world. He looked over at the Clock Twins with worry. “Ya got the guns I gave ya?” he asked them.

They nodded and pulled out matching Glock 9mms. “Guns are so brutish,” Tick grumbled.

“But it makes me feel better,” Otis said sternly. “Now ya remember where the safeties are?” They nodded in unison, but that wasn’t good enough for Otis. “Show me.” They pointed out the switch above the trigger. “Ya don’t flip that unless you’re sure ya need to,” he growled. “If ya do, I’ll find out and I’ll be very, very mad.” A threat like that coming from the huge man would have struck fear in the hearts of any rational person, but the Clock Twins grinned at him, and he stepped forward and wrapped them in another embrace. “Ya need help, ya tell me, ya hear me?” he whispered to them. “I’ll come runnin’ as fast as I can, and whoever is fuckin’ with ya is gonna be sorry they ever messed with my boys.” They nodded again as they gripped him tighter before he stepped back.

“Anything else?” I asked.

The Circle and Seven looked at each other but no one said a word.

I looked at each of them, this band of people brought together to change the shape of things, and felt a chill arc down my spine. It wasn’t something as convenient as a sense of foreboding or a premonition of things to come, but looking back, it might as well have been. I wish it had been. Gooseflesh rippled along my arms, and I thought of war and of how there are always two and of a Tree standing in a field that felt like a waking nightmare, drowning in Its own corruption, black and deep.

“We are Circulus Custodum,” I said quietly. “We are Iuratum Cor and Findo Unum. It’s time to show the world we won’t back down without a fight.” They watched me with hardened eyes, fingers that twitched, begging for action. “This is why we are here, what you have all trained for. This is why I exist.” (It’s funny you should think so, the oil whispered. I ignored it.) “Watch each other’s backs, and we’ll come out of this alive and well.” I looked at Seven. “You ready, big guy?”

He pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. I let him hold for a moment before I pulled away. “It’s time to go,” I said.

“Be careful,” my father said in my ear. “Felix, just please be careful.”

“I will, Dad.”

I nodded at the Clock Twins and fixed the straps to the bag I carried on my back. Seven adjusted the holster on my left side that contained a SIG Sauer P220, a gun that he’d given me the week before that matched the two he carried at his sides. His fingers moved deftly against the straps, and I looked up into his eyes and saw the ocean snapping back and forth. He was nervous, I could tell, but ready, perhaps more so than the rest of us. The others had come into this later on in his life, but this was something he’d been preparing for since he could remember. He finished fussing over me and kissed me swiftly again and stepped back.

“We good?” I asked them all.

They nodded.

I spun on my heels and headed for the subway entrance across the street. As I reached the stairs, I looked up into the sky and sent a prayer out to whoever would take it. I didn’t know then that the next time I saw the sky, everything would have changed.

WE FLIPPED our subway cards through the readers and walked through the turnstiles and went down the last flight of stairs. The subway platform was bustling, but the crowd seemed thin compared to what we’d normally see at that time. It appeared that almost everyone was up in the Plaza. Seven grabbed my arm and jerked his head to the right, nodding down the tunnel to a dim door thirty yards away to the north, an orange light circulating above it.

“I count eight cops,” Amy muttered, her eyes darting over the crowd. “Three at the south entrance, two at the north, three others in the crowd.”

“You got this?” I asked her.

She grinned. “It’ll be just like that time in Fallujah.” I didn’t know what that meant, but I got the gist of it. She reached into her bag and pulled out a metal circle with four tiny wheels on the bottom. Tick and Tock had whipped it up, and it was so simplistic, it was genius. We stood around her as she crouched to the ground and pressed a button on the top. I could hear a small whirring sound as the machine powered up. She set it on the floor, pointing it toward the south wall. As soon as it hit the ground, it took off, the motion camera on the front registering any obstacles in its path (feet and cement posts) and moving around them quickly and quietly.

“Ten seconds,” she said.

We moved north, each of us counting down in our heads. We were ten feet away from the north tunnel entrance and the cops standing guard when I said one in my head and the little machine knocked against the far wall and started puffing out copious amounts of black smoke, harmless to anybody who would inhale the fumes. A woman on the platform screamed in terror as the smoke plumed upward, and the crowd started rushing toward the exit. All the cops on the platform began to run toward the far wall, and as soon as the two blocking our way rushed past us, we moved quickly toward the tracks. Seven kept watch as we jumped down onto the tracks, but no one paid us any mind as they surged to evacuate the platform. Once the rest of us were on the tracks, he eased himself down and followed us as we headed toward the flashing door.

“Remind me to buy you guys two Mercedes,” I muttered into the headset. “That was awesome.”

“We’re going to hold you to that,” Tick said excitedly. “I want one that has seat warmers.”

“And I want the one that’s voice activated,” Tock gushed.

“Sounds expensive,” Seven grumbled.

“They are,” Tick and Tock said.

We reached the door, an electronic key pad above the handle. “Tick?” I said. “Get us in.”

“Once second… just gotta bypass that… and this…,” he murmured.

“Uh, Tick?” Edna said. “You may want to hurry up with that.”

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

“There’s a train coming,” she snapped.

We all looked down the tunnel, and I could feel the tracks shaking beneath our feet as a light shone off down in the distance.

“Fuck,” Tock said. “The train’s early! The trains are never early!”

“You guys have enough room to let it pass, right?” Tick said, his voice worried. “It won’t hit you?”

“But they’ll see us,” Jason ground out. “The conductor will call it in when he sees six people with bags trying to gain illegal access into the tunnels! Hurry up!”

“Almost there… just another minute.”

“We don’t have another minute!” Dan said, panic in his voice. “Tick, do it now!”

The light of the train grew brighter as I heard Tick’s fingers flying over the keyboard from somewhere above us. His breathing was heavy, and I heard his brother muttering to him in the background. The rumbling grew louder, and I could feel the ground shaking up through my bones, causing my teeth to clack together. Oh fuck, I thought. We’re not even going to make it past the door. All the planning…. “Tick!” I shouted.

“It’s done!” he gasped. “It’s unlocked!”

Seven slammed into the door and it sprung wide open, and we all piled into the doorway. Otis was the last one through, and Seven slammed the door behind him as the train passed by, causing the room to fall into darkness. The noise from the train was deafening, and the room shook around us as the train cars rode by. I could hear the squeal of brakes as the train entered the station. The room quieted around us.

“Do you think they saw us?” Edna asked as she wiped her brow.

“No,” Tock said. “I’m monitoring the train and there’s no chatter coming from it, aside from about the smoke on the platform. You guys are in the clear.”

“That was fun!” Otis grinned as he did a little dance.

“Yeah, let’s hope the rest of this won’t be that much fun,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. Otis stuck out his tongue. Jason stuck out his back.

I turned in the room and felt up the wall, finding a light switch and flipping it on. The room looked like it was primarily used for storage of cleaning supplies, with old bottles of bleach lining forgotten shelves shoved into corners. A massive shop vacuum sat broken on the floor. Seven kicked it to the side, revealing a hatch in the ground. He twisted the handle on the top and pulled it up, the rusted hinges screeched irritatingly as it opened. Amy cracked a green glowstick from her bag and hovered near the edge, illuminating a metal ladder that led down into the dark. She dropped the green light down the shaft, and we watched as it fell thirty feet below and landed in a stagnant puddle with a splash.

The others started down without a word: Dan first, followed by Edna, Amy, Jason, and Otis. When it came to Otis, I didn’t think he was going to fit down the hatch. He grunted and forced his way through. I wondered what we would do if he got stuck, but I heard him laugh as he splashed into the water below.

“Your turn,” Seven said, and I looked up at him and he smiled quietly at me, and then his face began to melt and I—
was in the field again, and I could hear the Tree shouting my name thunderously, causing the ground and flowers beneath my feet to shake, telling me I had to come back, that I needed to hear what It had to say. I ground my teeth together and shook my head and

—was back in the storage room with Seven, his eyes wide as he gripped my shoulders. I felt the floor slant beneath my feet as my knees started to give out, but he pulled me toward him before I could collapse.

“What’s happening to you?” he asked me roughly, his heart jackrabbiting in my ear. “Your eyes were on fire again. Oh, God, little man, what’s happening?”

“It’s nothing,” I gasped out as I clung to him. “It’s just the Suppressor, is all. I’m fine.”

“You’re lying!” he snarled in my ear as he stroked the back of my head. “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying!”

I pulled away from him, my legs like rubber. “We don’t have time for this,” I snapped. “We’ve got to get down into the tunnels before it’s too late.”

Seven growled in frustration as he rubbed his hands over his face. I could see the confliction in his posture, the need to protect me, to stand watch over me; but the other part of him knew I was right, that we had to move as fast as we could. His eyes darted over me as they narrowed, and I shivered at the sight of the big guy, the anger in his shoulders, the tenseness in his hands. He made quite the magnificent figure standing in the shadows, and I felt my cock harden.

He shook his head at me before he sighed. “I’m going down first,” he said. “You follow right after me. That way, if nothing should happen on the way down, at least I’ll be there to catch you.”

I shrugged even as my heart thudded in my chest. “And people say chivalry is dead.”

His eyes flashed angrily as he sneered at me. “You think this is a fucking joke? You think now is the time for you to mouth off? You and I are going to have a long talk when this is over, Felix. I’m going to get the truth, even if I have to beat it out of you!”

“And then maybe you can tell me all that you’ve kept from me still,” I retorted without meaning to. “Fair’s fair, yeah?”

He grabbed me hard by the shoulders and pulled me back to him, pressing his lips frantically against mine. I gave him what I could and hoped it would be enough. He groaned softly into my mouth, and I could taste the pain in it, the anger he had at himself for not being able to stop these seizures from happening. He pulled away and studied me with those ocean eyes as if he could see all I was hiding from him just by watching me.

We probably would have stood there, staring at each other, until the end of the world came. Stubborn, me and him. Luckily, Tick haltingly reminded us that we had to go, his voice quiet as he stuttered. I cursed silently in my head, realizing everyone had probably just heard what was said. Seven shook his head and stepped down to the hatch, finding his footing on the ladder before he looked back up at me and warned, “This isn’t over.”

I said nothing as his head disappeared down the shaft. Once he could no longer see me, I exhaled sharply and staggered against the wall, willing my strength to return as quickly as it had fled. Oh, God, please just let me get through this, I thought.

Felix, the Tree shouted from somewhere far away.

I’ll keep It back as long as I can, the oil whispered. Remember your promise.

Why? I asked it. Don’t you want the same thing It does?

Not hardly, it snapped. It didn’t elaborate.

I wondered if I was insane.

I climbed onto the ladder and started working my way down. I took deep, even breaths as I found the next rung, and the next, and the next. I was halfway down when my hands began to blur in front of me and I felt my grip start to loosen, and I thought, No. No, not now. I felt the dark oil shoot up inside me, rushing over the layers of muscle and organs, through my bloodstream until I felt it enter my fingertips and allow me to clutch at the bar in front of me. The world wavered and then solidified. You have to hurry, the crude gasped angrily. I can’t hold it off forever. I could hear the Tree roaring in the impossible distance. I closed my eyes and saw the flare in my chest completely submerged in the darkness, but still it flickered. I watched it as I lowered myself further, and then I felt hands on my back and opened my eyes and saw the faint outline of Seven standing in the pitch black before me.

“Tick, any chance of getting working lights down here?” Dan asked from somewhere to my right.

“No,” Tick said. “And even if I could, it wouldn’t be a good idea. They’ll see you coming down the tunnels. You’ll have to use the night-vision goggles.”

I flipped the backpack around to my front and began to dig through its contents, pushing aside extra ammo clips, flash bang grenades, and other assorted knickknacks that Amy felt we needed until my hands closed around the Night Owl Tactical Optics she’d called in a favor for. I slid the band over my head and powered them on. The tunnels flooded with an ominous green light, fuzzy around its edges but clearly laying out the division in the tunnels in front of us, water dripping down the walls. A rat the size of a small dog scurried away from us, carrying something twitching in its mouth. I turned my head to look at the others, and the light melted and trailed, and I began to panic again until I realized it was just the optics, the dark playing tricks on my eyes not yet used to the emerald glare. It would have been amusing to see the Circle and Seven all decked out like they were had we not been a quarter of a mile underground.

“Tock, the tunnel splits just like we thought,” Amy said.

“Good,” he said, the connection filling with static. “Each side is approximately six hundred yards in length. Remember, Dan, Felix, and Seven to the left. The rest of you go right.”

“We know,” Jason grumbled. “You’ve told us, like, eight times already.”

Tock laughed. “Gotta make sure you guys remember. The dark can play tricks on you if you’re in it too long.”

We reached the divide in the tunnels, and the group split down the middle. We stopped for a moment, watching each other, wondering if anything further needed to be said. There were so many things I wanted each of them to know, no matter how angry I still felt at the truth they had all concealed from me. But I knew any words I would say would sound only like a good-bye. I looked away.

Get on with it! the oil shouted. Fucking Christ, this isn’t goddamn happy hour!

“We’ll see you on the other side,” Amy said quietly.

Seven nodded. “Watch yourselves.”

We parted ways.

The tunnel stretched out in front of us, musty and dank, smelling so much like the cellar that had started all this that my breath caught in my throat, my step stuttered. But then Seven was by my side, his hand strong and reassuring on my arm. He nodded at me, and we continued into the dark. I couldn’t see the end of the tunnel, but Tock had told us that after the tunnels converged again, there was a curve to the left that opened up into the Mendacium platform. Even though I couldn’t see this platform, the way before us was clear of any debris, and it looked like no collapse had occurred. I hoped the others were as lucky as we were.

“You going to tell us what happened up there?” Dan asked me as he stepped over a pile of garbage.

“Where?” I muttered.

“Up top,” he said. “When the Suppressor hit. Where did you go, Felix?”

I tried to contain my surprise, but I knew they heard the sharp intake of breath that betrayed me. Seven said nothing, and I knew he was waiting for the answer as well. I wondered if the connection was still strong enough in our headsets for the others to hear. I’m sure it was. “Who says I went anywhere?” I asked, my voice steady.

Dan grunted. “I do. Seven does. Everyone else does. You forget we’re bound to you, Felix. You forget we saw your eyes blazing. I’ve read everything there is to read on the Findo Unum, and I’ve never heard of anything like that happening.”

“Well, there’s never been a male Split One,” I reminded him. “Maybe it’s the testosterone.”

“Bullshit,” Dan said. “What did you see?”

“Don’t you think we should shut the hell up? Who knows how much our fucking voices will carry down here. It would kind of ruin everything just because you think something happened.”

Dan sighed but said nothing more. Seven’s grip tightened on my arm.

It took us ten minutes to reach what we thought to be the halfway mark. My feet were saturated through the combat boots I’d gotten from the armory at the Station. I could feel the wetness soaking up my pants, chilling the skin underneath. I breathed shallowly, waiting for the world around me to lose shape and focus, to be transported before what I now believed to be a God of sorts, even if it was drowning in what I thought was the same oil that was keeping It from latching onto me. It didn’t happen. We walked another ten minutes and should have reached the point where the tunnels connected again, but it continued onward, the tracks covered with mold and algae, the brick crumbling around us.

“Tock?” Seven said. “How long did you say this thing was?”

No response.

“Tock,” Seven tried again, talking as loudly as he dared. “Tick, do you copy?”

Nothing.

“Thaddeus?”

It was quiet.

“Shit,” Dan breathed. “We must be too far down.”

I frowned. “But don’t you think we’d be hearing static or something? I’ve just got dead air.”

Seven looked over his shoulder at the way we’d come down. “Me too,” he muttered.

“We should have reached the end of the tunnels by now,” I said, looking ahead of us. “Doesn’t it seem like this goes on a lot further than we’d thought?”

“The blueprints must not have been as accurate as we thought,” Dan said, shrugging. “These tunnels haven’t been used in sixty years. I’d be surprised if everything we’d found was the way it was supposed to be.”

“That doesn’t help us,” I told him. “We have to get to the Mendacium platform before the test is over. We’re running out of time as it is.”

Seven dug through his bag and pulled out a walkie-talkie, the light from its screen flaring gently against the night vision. I squinted my eyes and looked away. “Where did you get that?” I asked him.

“I didn’t think it was such a good idea to rely on these earpieces,” he said. “Amy’s carrying the other.” He brought it up to his lips and clicked the button on the side, the small beep echoing through the tunnel. “Amy, come in. Amy, pick up.”

Silence.

Then, “Yeah, boss?” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You guys okay?” Seven asked quietly.

There was a brief screech of static. “Yeah, we’re fine. Did you guys lose top side as well?”

“Yeah, we got nothing from Tick and Tock.”

“Otis wants to go back up,” she said. “He’s worried about the boys.”

“They’ll be fine,” Seven said. “They know how to handle themselves.”

“That’s what I told him, but you know how he is. Boss, doesn’t it seem like these tunnels go on a lot longer than we thought? I counted off six hundred yards five minutes ago.”

“I know,” he said, motioning for us to continue. “They’ve got to intersect somewhere. Keep pushing down the tunnel. But keep the walkie open.”

“Will do, boss man.”

Seven flipped to another channel. “Tick? Tock? Do you read me?”

Static.

“Do you think something happened to them?” Dan asked nervously as he glanced over his shoulder. I groaned inwardly and couldn’t help myself from looking back along with him. The tunnel was empty behind us. That did nothing for my nerves.

“They’re fine,” Seven said harshly. “We’ve only got thirty more minutes before the Clock Twins interrupt the Suppressor as planned. We gotta move. Now.” He grabbed me by the arm again, and I was going to scowl at him and shake his hand off, but I could feel the waves coming off him again as he pushed his way gently into my head. I almost forgot to throw up the walls. Almost.

We’ll be fine, he whispered. I knew he could feel the oil inside me, but it lay quietly behind the walls, struggling to keep the Tree away. Just keep going.

I nodded.

Five more minutes went by.

Then five more.

We reached a curve in the tunnel, curving to the east. Somewhere above us, a train rattled through on its course. The ceiling rumbled gently, flecks of brick and mortar falling into puddles that lined the tracks. Other pieces clanged off the metal struts; water dripped through the wall. The smell intensified and began to take on a life of its own, thick and noxious. I breathed through my mouth. We didn’t speak. We kept walking.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped somewhere, I felt the effects of the Suppressor drain away. The flare in my chest surged, the wind in my head roared. The oil gasped in surprise as it was shoved to the side, the wind and fire enough to keep the Tree away, at least for now. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

Seven stopped and squeezed my arm hard enough to leave bruises. “What?” he asked sharply. “Felix, what’s wrong?”

“Dan?”

“Yeah, I feel it too.”

“Shit,” I groaned. “Seven, the Suppressor’s been deactivated.”

“What?” he growled. “They were supposed to wait another ten minutes!”

“They must have gotten the timing wrong. Either that or something happened up there and they had to act a whole hell of a lot quicker.”

“Amy!” Seven barked into the walkie. “Amy, come in!”

Static.

“Amy!”

More static.

Then, from further down the tunnel, the screeching sound of metal against metal. I whirled around, the goggles leaving contrails of green flashing across my vision. Twenty feet away, a door stood open against the wall. A hand flipped out from the side of the door and a small object arced its way toward us. It hit the ground and bounced, landing on the tracks a few feet away. My eyes widened. It was a flash bang grenade. Like the ones we had in our bags.

“Close your eyes!” Seven shouted, but it was too late. The flash erupted in the dark tunnel, the blinding white light flaring against the night-vision lenses. Pain pierced my eyes like hot needles. I heard Dan and Seven shout in pain as the world became white around us. I ripped the goggles from my eyes, but it didn’t help. I was blind, and I stumbled about, tripping over one of the train tracks, rapping my head against the side wall. I closed my eyes. Even the flare in my chest was awash in blinding light, imprints dancing along my vision, swirling and biting into my corneas. I groaned as I felt blood trickle down my forehead, my skull split at my hairline.

“Felix,” Seven groaned from somewhere off to my left. “Felix, baby, where are you? Oh, God please answer me. Where are you?”

“Here,” I gasped, trying to blink the light away. “I’m here!” I began to crawl toward the sound of his voice, or at least where I thought he was. “Keep talking, big guy. I’m coming to you but you gotta keep talking.”

“I can’t see,” he whispered. “Ah, fuck that hurt!”

“Dan?”

“What the fuck happened?” Dan snarled from somewhere further down the tunnel. “Jesus, who the hell threw that?”

“I dunno,” I said as my hands skittered over something wet. I grimaced but pushed on, feeling the blood dribble down to my chin. “I can’t see a fucking thing.”

“I’m coming to you,” Seven said, moaning, as I heard him lift himself to his knees. “Keep coming toward me, little man. It’ll clear in a moment.”

My hand grazed across something that felt different than the rocks and metal I should have felt beneath my hands. It had a known shape, the material smooth beneath my hands. A billion things processed across my mind in a split second, my brain trying to place the familiarity I felt under my fingers. I stretched my hand up further and felt laces. A shoe, I thought. It’s a shoe.

And that shoe was attached to a foot that rose up to a leg. Someone was standing over me.

Before I could think about who it could be, the tunnel began to shake around us. I felt a surge of power in the air around me and knew there was an Earth Elemental in the tunnel with us, their foot underneath my hand. It’s a trap, I thought. Oh God, they knew we’d be here. This whole thing is a fucking trap! I rolled away from the Elemental as I heard the walls split around us, debris falling from the ceiling and crashing into the floor below. The metal tracks below me began to shift and break apart. I felt a section of the floor underneath me split from the ground with a low groan, and I was thrust into the air with it. I rolled onto my back and my vision cleared, if only for a moment. I saw the ceiling rushing toward me, the rock beneath me threatening to smash me into the stone above. I thought Ventis and the wind whipped around me, and I pushed to the wall at my right and I was knocked left, rolling off the boulder before it crashed into the ceiling above. I fell to the ground below as the tunnel collapsed around us, the breath knocking from my body as I hit the floor.

Seven, I thought. Seven.

As the tunnel continued to shake, I felt someone standing over me, and before I could push, before I could light the son of a bitch on fire, I felt a sharp sting in my neck and everything became immediately hazy around me, my body lax and liquid. Oh fuck, I thought deliriously. Drugged. I’ve been drugged.

As quickly as the earth assault had begun, it stopped.

The world around me felt unclear and dark. I thought I was falling back into that field so very far away, and I panicked and tried to rise to my feet, but my arms wouldn’t listen to my brain, my feet wouldn’t do anything more than skitter along the ground. I tried to call my fire, and it shot sporadically from my hand, the air in front of me combusting in random arcs. The ground beneath me shifted again, and the metal of the train tracks flipped over my hands, binding me to the ground. I felt the same slither over my legs, wrapping around my ankles, effectively pinning me to the floor.

My head lolled to the left, and I saw Dan high up against the wall, held in place by bricks wrapped around his body, covering him almost completely. His head hung down, his chin on his chest. He didn’t move as blood dripped from his ears.

My eyes rolled back into their sockets, but I forced myself to focus, to just fucking focus, and I opened my eyes again and rocked my head to the side, looking down the tunnel where I thought Seven had been. I groaned in anger and terror when I saw my heart sworn, his lower half covered in the rubble of the ceiling that had collapsed above him. “Seven,” I croaked out, my voice weak. I coughed as dust filled my lungs. “Seven!”

He didn’t move. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. No. Get up, you asshole! GET THE FUCK UP!

A dark figure shifted in the tunnel.

My eyes tried to focus on the movement, this person who slinked across the darkness, fluid and low, the hood of a jacket obscuring their face. The Earth Elemental walked over to Dan, who had awoken and began to struggle “You,” he breathed. I could hear the shock in his voice. “Oh my God, we trusted you!”

The figure shook their head in such a familiar way that it caused tears to burn my eyes as I cried out for them to stop, to just stop. I still couldn’t see the Elemental’s face, but I could feel the energy, and like their movements, it was something conversant, something I should have recognized immediately. The drug in my system caused my mind to pedal sluggishly, and I couldn’t focus on a single thought, a single name. “No!” I tried to shout.

I saw the attacker flex a hand toward the ground, and a group of pebbles rose from the floor, four or five of them spinning as they flew up. The Elemental flipped their hand over and the rocks floated above the palm. Before I could say another word, before I could even think to somehow save one who’d give his life for me, time slowed down, and the Earth Elemental slammed the hand with the rocks to the side of Dan’s head, and I felt a pulse of energy leap through the tunnel and the stones thrust forward, slamming into Dan’s skull, shattering the bone underneath. The rocks shot through Dan’s head, his eyes bulging as the stones passed behind his orbital bones, first one socket and then the other, before they exited the other side of this head in a splatter of blood, bone, and brain. Dan’s head snapped to the side so hard I could hear his neck crack dully from where I lay. I screamed as the stones fell to the floor, as Dan slumped forward, his shoulders sagging, his last breath escaping his mouth in a low moan. And then he died.

Oh, Jesus, it’s gotta be Kammy! She’s the only one who’d know we’d be down here. She’s the only Earth Elemental who would dare to fuck with us!

“You motherfucker!” I screamed. “Oh you fucking bitch! I’m going to kill you!”

The Elemental turned at the sound of my voice. It wasn’t Kammy. “I guess the dosage of vecuronium wasn’t strong enough,” he said. “I should have realized that. You are the Findo Unum, after all.”

His voice. Oh God, his voice then was something that I will never forget, no matter how hard I try. He spoke, and my world shattered around me, the darkness in me raged and stormed in fury, the need to burn and burn and burn causing my fingertips to twitch and spark. I snarled at the metal bindings on my wrists and ankles. I remembered arriving at the Station the first time, feeling the first Obligatorius performed, binding me to the people I was told gave themselves willingly to me, who I thought I would trust for the rest of my life. I remember that dark feeling I’d felt as we became bound, that resistance that almost argued against the act. I’d forgotten about it with all that had occurred. I had forgotten the one thing that might have been the most important.

Tock raised his eyes to mine as he shook his head. “You are much stronger, of course. I should’ve given you a bigger dose.” He walked over to me, and I could feel the heat around me begin to take shape, and I was going to kill this fucking bastard, I was going to blow him away until he was nothing more than smoking ash left on the floor of a forgotten tunnel. But then he pressed a button on the headset in his ear and said, “Reactivate the Suppressor.”

It was only a moment later that I felt that heavy feeling slam down upon me again, the flare and wind muted beyond my grasp before I could form them in the tunnel around me. My vision blurred again, a combination of the electromagnetic pulse and the paralyzing sedative he’d injected into my neck. The world around me began to run together, and the ground at my back felt soft and wet, and I slid through it—
and my arms were no longer bound, my feet no longer bound. I was in the shadow of the Tree and It leaned over, Its trunk creaking mightily as It whispered, “I told you that you would lose much this day,” and I opened my eyes as the shadows of the branches crossed my face. A drop of oil fell from the trunk and splattered across my forehead, stinging my eyes, burning my skin. I felt another sharp sting in my neck

—and I was back in the tunnels, Tock standing over me, a syringe in his right hand, his expression blank as he watched me. I felt fuzzier than I had before, and I tried to twitch my fingers, to move my toes, but nothing worked, nothing moved. I thought of fire, but the flare was so far buried in me that I couldn’t see it when I closed my eyes. It was almost too much effort to open them again, but I heard Tock step away from me, toward my heart sworn, still half buried under the rubble. I forced my eyes open.

“No,” I croaked as I fought the drugs in my system. “Leave him alone.” My voice came out rough and small, the words slurred but the point clear. “I’ll destroy you if you touch him!”

Tock hesitated, if only for a moment. “I’m not going to kill him,” he said. “I’m not allowed to.” He grabbed the big guy under his arms and pulled, the cords on his neck standing out. Tock was a lot stronger than he looked, and Seven shifted out from the debris that covered his legs, his head hanging back, his eyes closed. I moaned quietly as I saw the bone sticking out of Seven’s shin on his left leg, impossibly white and wet in the darkness. Tock grunted as he dropped Seven onto the ground, letting his head slam against a train track.

“I’ll kill you,” I said again, the words almost intelligible. “You’re going to burn.” And I’m going to watch your hair light on fire, your clothes, your skin, and I’m going to make you pay for hurting what’s mine. I’m going to stand above you and make sure you feel every ounce of pain that’s possible for a human to feel.

Tock panted from the exertion and wiped the sweat off his brow. He cocked his head at me. “How the hell are you still talking?” he frowned. “I gave you enough to knock you out.” He walked back over to me and hunkered down at my side, his fingers going to my throat to feel my pulse.

A terrible thought struck me. “Tick?” I asked.

Something flickered through Tock’s eyes, but then it was gone. “Tick’s fine,” he muttered, counting the seconds going by on his watch as the blood pulsed against my carotid artery. “He got a dose of the vecuronium bromide. Not as much as you, he’s just a little guy. He’s in the van. By the time he wakes up, it’ll all be over.”

“Why?” I asked as my vision began to fade.

Tock grinned, and it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. This was not the sweet boy I’d met in the car on the way to the Station that first day only a few weeks before, the one fiercely protective of his brother, the genius of anything and everything tech-related. This was not the same boy who had laughed about making heat-resistant restraints for me and Seven or had jumped off the building at Jason’s apartment to defend the Circle. The smile chilled me to the bone as I knew I was seeing the real Tock for the first time. Everything else had been a lie.

“Seven may have gotten me early,” he said as I fell into darkness, “but your mother got to me first.”

I WOKE briefly as we moved down the tunnel, the Suppressor again shut down. Seven and I lay on opposite tracks, Tock walking in the middle, his fingers twitching and manipulating the metal beneath us that bent and rolled us down the tunnels. Even though the Suppressor was no longer affecting me, I couldn’t focus on a single thing, my head swimming, my arms and legs paralyzed at my sides. I tried to light the air around me on fire but it was too much work, and my head rolled to the side and I watched Seven until I passed out again.

I CAME to sometime later, though how much later, I didn’t know. I was hung up on the wall of a forgotten subway platform, five feet off the ground, my hands and feet and chest bound in brick much like Dan had been. At the thought of his name, a sharp pain lanced my heart, and I struggled to open my eyes. They felt gummy and stuck. I finally pushed them open, and a low-level light caused me to moan, my vision still doubling and tripling.

“Well, it looks like someone’s awake,” an amused voice said from in front of me. I turned my attention to follow the voice and saw a group of people in front of me. I saw the black armbands wrapped around their biceps, a thin red line bifurcating the fabric down the middle. There might have been as many as thirty people in the room with us, or maybe as few as ten, I couldn’t be sure. My drug-addled body was betraying me. I was sure the Suppressor was still off, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

“I think you gave him too much,” a woman said as she laughed. “He can’t even hold his head up right.”

“It’s better it be too much than too little,” another voice retorted. That voice I knew. That voice I wanted to hurt. “You should have seen him in the tunnel! The air was combusting and the temperature rose like fifteen degrees. Even with a full dose, he still was able to use his abilities! I had to give him more.” I scowled at the direction I knew Tock to be in. I was going to murder him with my bare hands.

I was slapped viciously then, my head snapping back and smashing against the wall. The pain shot through the fog behind my eyes, and I looked down in front of me, my lip split and bloody. The gray-eyed man stood before me, smiling quietly up at me, the barrel of his gun glinting as he tapped it against the side of his head. “Findo Unum,” he said, nodding as he watched me.

I muttered in a low voice.

He leaned forward. “Sorry? Didn’t catch that.”

“I said I’m going to kill you,” I slurred.

He laughed, the sound echoing around the large chamber we were in. Somewhere above us, a million people mourned and celebrated, not realizing that beneath their feet sat a long abandoned train station with high ceilings and a decrepit foundation. A station that now held the people I held most dear and the ones I hated most in the world.

Amy Star and Jason Taylor were handcuffed to a metal strut against the far wall and gagged. Jason saw my eyes fall on his, and he started struggling against the cuffs, his wrists rubbed raw, causing blood to trickle down his arms, the metal of the handcuffs sparking against the strut. He screamed against the gag over his mouth, his eyes wide and angry, blown out with fear. Amy glared at my mother’s people standing in the middle of the room, her posture rigid, her brow furrowed as they laughed at Jason’s futile efforts to extricate himself. On the floor near them lay Edna and Otis, both unmoving and unconscious and fused to the floor by an Earth Elemental.

But it was the last that hurt my heart the most, the last that almost sent me over the edge. Seven lay on the floor below me, positioned awkwardly at the feet of the gray-eyed man. His face seemed even whiter, the blood still oozing down his leg and pooling onto the dirty floor beneath him, that horrific knob of bone still jutting through his flesh. He was hurt, and I couldn’t get to him, I couldn’t comfort him, I couldn’t protect him. I screamed and struggled against the bricks covering my body, but they were solid against me, offering no give in the tiny space left between me and the wall. I tried to pull up the flare, but it was too far gone. I tried to tackle the wind, but it skipped out of my fingers. I roared again in fury as my eyes grew unfocused. Help me! I shouted at the oil that festered and rotted in my soul. For fuck’s sake, help me!

It said nothing.

The gray-eyed man smiled up at me. “Vecuronium bromide.” he said. “Think of it as a liquid version of the Suppressor. In addition to acting as a paralytic, it’s blocking the binding of your neurotransmitters to the muscles of your body. In other words, you have no abilities while it’s in your system. And while it’s there, you run the risk of tachycardia or brain damage. Doesn’t that sound like so much fun?” He laughed again. “My personal favorite, though—aside from death, of course—is permanent paralysis. And if what Tock has told us is correct, you’re absolutely swimming in the stuff now.”

The Scarred King’s people laughed with him, the sound dangerous and flat.

“It went wildly out of fashion in 2001,” the gray-eyed man continued. “Some nurse in Japan used it to murder ten of her patients.” He tapped the gun against his head again. “Turns out they were all Elementals. Clever, that one was. Sloppy, but clever. Imagine our surprise when we tinkered with the molecular makeup of the drug that it negated Elemental abilities! That was a long trial-and-error process, let me tell you.”

“There’s no prisoners, are there?” I ground out. “This whole thing was just to get us down here.”

His eyes widened mockingly. “Prisoners? Oh, Felix! How big your heart is! Even with everything you love trapped in this wonderfully dark underground, you still worry about the prisoners? I need you to focus, dear boy! Focus!”

Focus, my mother whispered in my ear, her voice traveling miles and years. Look straight ahead and focus.

I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat as I struggled against bricks. The drug was still flooding my system, but I was enraged, the wrath spilling out of me like nothing I’d ever known before.

“Focus, Felix!” the gray-eyed man shouted at me in warning. “Don’t make me do it for you!”

“Where is she!” I shrieked. “Where the fuck is she!”

“Tock!” he snapped as he rushed toward me. “Push me up!”

Tock’s hands snapped from his side and his fingers twitched, and the ground beneath the gray-eyed man shifted and broke apart, a singular pillar shot up against his feet, raising him until he was eye level with me. He leaned forward and fisted my hair painfully, snapping my head back. I could feel his breath upon my skin as his mouth rested near my ear. “She’s here,” he whispered, the barrel of his gun digging into the side of my head. “She’s watching you right now. But I swear on your goddamn fucking Tree, if you don’t fucking focus, I will kill the heart sworn where he lies. I will put my gun against his head and blow his pretty little brains all over the floor, just like I did to his parents. To his grandfather. And to make sure you don’t miss it, I will cut your eyelids off before I shoot him. Then you’ll have to watch him die. You know what I’m capable of.”

I stopped cold. My eyes couldn’t help themselves from finding the man I loved, still silent on the floor. I felt the gray-eyed man’s fingers digging into my scalp as he followed my line of sight. “That’s right,” he breathed. “Deep breaths, Felix. We wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

I turned back to him and our cheeks brushed together. “What surprise?” I asked quietly.

He smiled. “Soon. And since you’re being such a good boy, I’ll let you know that there are prisoners, but they’re on the other side of Quadratum Plaza. There’s nothing you can do for them now. You have other things to focus on.”

I had no other choice. I nodded.

He jumped back down off the pillar and landed on the floor, his arms spread wide as his people cheered wildly around him. I twitched my fingers again, and I felt a tremor start in my arms and legs, and I thought, No, no, not now, but it didn’t matter, I was being called. The tremors worsened, and I felt my shoulders begin to shake and my eyes rolled back into my head and I couldn’t stop it and I—
flipped, I flipped back into the field, landing on the ground from five feet in the air. The flowers caught me with their petals, and I felt my back instantly congeal, and I opened my eyes. The blue sky was gone. The sun was gone. It was dusk and the field was covered in oil, the flowers dripping with corruption. I shot to my knees and glared up at the Tree. “Help me!” I shouted at It. “You have to help

—me,” I whispered as my body quaked and seized in the Mendacium Station.

“What the fuck is this?” I heard the gray-eyed man shout. “Tock, you said he didn’t have access to his abilities!”

“He shouldn’t!” Tock cried. “He has enough of the drug in him to kill a Normal!”

“He’s not a fucking Normal!” the gray-eyed man screamed. “His eyes are on fucking fire!”

I was back in the field, kneeling before the Tree. “You have to help me!” I shouted again, the oil oozing up from Its roots beneath the ground, covering my legs. The wind around me felt seismic as it began to spin, the roar so familiar in my ears.

“Why should I?” It grumbled. “You’ve done nothing for me.”

“You corrupted me! You’ve made me into this—this thing!” I could feel the darkness shifting within me, amused by my words.

“I had nothing to do with that,” the Tree said with a chuckle. “That, much like your mother, is not my doing. You’re thinking too big, Felix, too cosmically. Think smaller. I told you, there’s always two.”

“You will help me,” I breathed, ignoring this latest revelation. My world was upside-down as it was, I couldn’t take anything further. I pushed harder, and the winds began to pick up speed.

“Why?” It asked.

I couldn’t help but notice the way Its voice trembled. The winds turned into a tornado with me at its center, and the flowers were ripped up from the field, the oil splattering in the squall that stormed around me. The crude rose from the bottom until it reached the top, turning the tornado black. “Because I’m asking you to!”

“And who are you to ask me for anything?”

I stood in the middle of the tornado. “I am Findo fucking Unum. I am Animo Dimidio, Unus Dimidiatus. I will tear your whole fucking world apart!”

“My world,” It said, laughing. “You know nothing of my world. But….” It paused for effect.

“What?”

One of the lowest branches curved up, and I knew the Tree was smiling at me. “It would be interesting for me to see how this plays out. And one would think that you would… owe me, in return.”

“Do it!” I thundered.

“We aren’t finished this day,” the Tree warned as it reached a single branch down toward my head. As it grew closer, I saw a single green leaf on the edge, small and worn but alive. I didn’t think it would survive passing through the winds of the black tornado, but it did. The tip of the branch touched my forehead, and my body seized upward as I rose into the air inside the black tornado. I felt a surge in my chest as the flare burst like an exploding star. I could taste fire at the back of my throat. My hands ignited, the fire racing up my arms and over my chest until every inch of my skin was covered in flames, engulfing me entirely. I felt no burning. I felt no pain. I only felt fire. The branch pulled away, and I dropped to the ground.

“Send me back!”

“Send yourself back,” It snarled.

I didn’t wait. I ignited the tornado around me, the oil a catalyst for it to burn. The fire storm raged as I pushed and tore a hole in the space between the field and the tunnel underneath Terra City. And then I was

—back in my body, the bricks pressing against my front and back since I was still strung up against the wall. But there was a change: I was on fire in this world too.

I could hear the gray-eyed man screaming to start the fucking Suppressor! but I pushed his voice away. I looked down at my chest and saw the flames roiling across my body. I created this, I thought with a cold fury. I created this and I can do it anytime I want. The mortar prison around me began to shake and crack as the fire leapt from my body in arcing flares like the surface of the sun. The brick wall behind me began to shift and crack, and then the bricks against my chest shattered with a groan, spraying out across the platform. Wind swirled around my feet, lowering me to the floor.

“Kill the Circle!” the gray-eyed man shouted as he bounded away from me across the underground station. “Kill them all!”

My head snapped to the right, to my family tethered against the floors and walls. I shoved a great burst of wind toward them, curling it back toward myself. The strut holding Amy and Jason bent forward and snapped with a metallic shriek. The earth holding down Edna and Otis was blown into dust as their eyes flashed open. The storm I’d sent at them flipped them all up into the air, sending them flying back at me. All four landed roughly on their feet behind me, their faces shocked and white.

“Felix,” Jason choked out as he ripped the gag from his mouth. “Oh my God, Felix.”

I turned to him, feeling my skin blazing as the fire burnt away the last of my clothing. They shielded their eyes from the blinding light that emanated from me, from the heat that caused the air to ripple between us. “Stay here,” I said, my voice deep, far deeper than it had ever been before. “I am going to end this once and for all.”

I ignored their protests as I faced those who followed my mother. Each had taken a combative stance, water and fire and earth and wind spinning above their heads. The first wave attacked as one, flinging their elements at us. I saw shards of wicked ice, great mounds of rock and cement; wind that clawed and snapped, fire that exploded as it flew through the air. I bowed my head and stretched my arms out to my side, and like it was from some dream (Oh, it is from a dream, the oil whispered above the roar in my ears) I clapped my hands together as they flashed, and a wall of fire erupted in front of us, destroying the onslaught that sought to skewer us to the wall behind us. I dropped the fire and stepped forward.

The people in front of me hesitated, fear in their eyes. They were weak. I was not weak.

I flicked my left hand, and the hurricane that ripped forward spat lightning, bright blue sweeps of electricity that smashed into each of them, their bodies jerking back and up into the air, wracking violently as they were electrocuted. The storm hit them all and flung them around the platform, into walls and the floor and the ceiling. Bones snapped. Blood flew.

Impressive, the darkness whispered. I could learn a thing or two from you.

“Felix.”

That voice. That voice that I loved. I stepped back from the edge, and the fire crawling over my body lessened until it was a small orange-red glow that licked along my flesh. I felt my vision clear, and I stumbled, a piece of metal cutting the bottom of my foot. The pain was glassy and sharp, but I ignored it. “Seven!”

He was sitting up, ten feet to my left, the agony of his wounds apparent on his face. I ran to him, and he held his arms out, and before I could stop myself, before I could think about how hurt he was, how much pain he must have been in, I slammed into him, this man who was my home. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands came up into my hair, sifting over the fire on my skin. I felt his heart beating against my chest, and it was alive and strong, and I almost broke then, and I could feel the fire begin to flicker out, the glow diminishing as it faded. Seven’s chest rumbled, and I felt his lips against mine.

“Felix,” he whispered. “Oh, little man. Oh, Felix. That fire… the fire is beautiful.”

“Can you stand?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“For you, I can do anything,” he grunted, and I soared higher than I’d ever been before. He was going to be okay. We were going to be okay.

I pulled him up with me, careful of his leg. He stood in front of me, my back to the remains of the platform. He looked down into my eyes with that vast ocean, and I knew we would always be. “Felix,” he whispered.

“Seven, I need you to know. I lo—”

“No,” he breathed, his eyes flickering over my shoulder. “No!”

The Circle shouted in warning. But it was too late.

Before I could stop him, Seven spun me around, curling his body around mine. I heard the air moaning as something split it apart, heavy and fast. He grunted against me as he slammed forward, almost knocking me off my feet. I reached up to hold him steady, unsure of what had just happened, my hands going to his back. They grew cold. So very cold. I traced up the object, and my hands became slick and wet, and he slumped against me, his head falling to my shoulder as he gasped, and I could see the great shard of ice sticking out the right side of his back then, blue and bright, embedded into skin and tendon, bone and musculature. I felt a sharp sting against my chest that grew numb instantly, and I knew the spike had pierced straight through and was poking out the front of his chest. He collapsed onto the floor on his knees, and I looked up with blown eyes and saw a young blonde woman standing on the opposite side of the platform, water and ice swirling above her head. Her sundress was green and simple. Deceptive. Lies. I remembered her. She’d been the little girl that had started the attack on the Station so many years ago. She’d been the one who—

“Felix,” Seven said, his voice strangled and choked.

“This won’t happen,” I promised him. “You won’t die. I won’t let you.” I pressed my hand against the sharp edge of the ice shard and felt the heat burst from my palm. The ice melted instantly and blood gushed from the wound on his chest. He fell to his back as I knelt beside him. I tore the remains of his shirt from his body and pressed it against the open wound. It didn’t stop the dark blood from pooling behind him, beneath his body onto the floor.

“Felix!” Jason shouted in warning.

I glanced up and saw the bitch had thrown more ice at us, at him. The air around us began to ripple, and the ice melted as it struck an infinite heat. I thrust it at her, and the air sizzled and caught fire and struck the woman where she stood. She exploded in a great burst of blood and fire. I screamed in triumphant fury.

Seven reached his hand up and stroked the side of my face. I looked down into those ocean eyes, those eyes that meant more to me than anything ever could or would. “I regret nothing,” he said quietly, his voice whistling as if a lung had collapsed.

“Stop it!” I cried. “Stop talking like that!” I pressed down harder on the wound on his chest, feeling flecks of bone against my fingers.

He closed his eyes as a bubble of blood burst from his mouth and popped, splattering his cheek dark red, blood that came from the heart. “I’ll wait for you,” he said as his hand dropped to his side, as his eyes began to dim. “I think I could wait for you forever.” He coughed, dribbling more blood over his lips.

“Seven!” I screamed as he took in a deep breath, his last breath.

I closed my eyes—

And opened them in the field.

“Save him,” I begged.

“I told you you’d be back,” the Tree yawned.

“Save him!”

“Why?”

“Because I love him,” I choked out.

“I have no use for love,” It snapped. “Have you not heard a single word I’ve said?”

“Please. Just… please.”

“You haven’t repaid me yet for the last favor I did for you.”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” the Tree asked. “Do you know what that means? What you’re offering?”

“Yes.”

“If I do this,” It said, “then what I ask of you will be done.”

“Anything,” I said as I bowed my head.

The Tree bent forward. “You will come to me. You will leave them all behind and you will come to me. It was already in your heart and mind to run once this was over. I know because I feel it. I see it. You don’t belong to him. You belong to me. You will come to my field. You will never look back. Without the Iuratum Cor, the odds will be even. You. Me. Your mother. And then there’s the other, because there is always two. The four of us. Then… then we’ll see the shape of things.”

“But—”

“Make your choice, Findo Unum. Septem draws his last breath, and if he dies, not even I can bring him back. If saving him is what you wish, then you will come to me.”

“I will see you burn,” I whispered.

“That remains to be seen. Do we have a deal?”

I didn’t hesitate. I made the only choice I could.

I closed my eyes.

—And opened them in the in the Mendacium Station.

Seven’s last breath slipped from his body, and my own began to seize again, and I rocked my head back, my mouth open as the fire spilled forth from my body and crawled down and over Seven. It forced his mouth open and slid down his throat, his skin bright and orange and bulging. Fire poured from the wound on his chest, gushing from the wound on his back, and the skin began to bubble and sizzle and the fleshy opening burned closed, and Seven took in a great gasping breath, arching his back off the ground as the fire exploded out from him. It hit my skin and ignited me once more. Seven would live. I would bring the fire.

I stood and faced the people across from me. The people who had taken from me. Tock. The gray-eyed man. My mother, somewhere close by. It was time to end this. It was time to end them.

I don’t remember much about those next moments, and maybe for the sake of my soul and sanity, that’s all well and good. I was told later that my body burned fiercely and the heat pouring from me was intense, the air around me a conflagration. Every step I took sent fire shooting out across the floor in great waves. My right hand was the molten center of a volcano, my left the storm to end all storms. Lightning snapped down around me from the ceiling, but it too was on fire, the electrified flames arching down and around and over.

Wave after wave of my mother’s Elementals and Normals came at me, and wave after wave was burned and electrocuted and disintegrated and blown away. The gray-eyed man grabbed Tock by the scruff of the neck and pulled him back as he tried to reactivate the Suppressor. Tock dropped his laptop when a bolt of fire lightning rained down from overhead and scorched the spot he’d just been standing in. The laptop fell the ground and shattered, the pieces melting. They exited through a steel door, and I roared in anger.

More and more people descended upon me. More and more people died. Fire. Wind. Lightning. The Circle stayed behind me and surrounded Seven protectively, watching in frightened awe as I destroyed those that still fought. Bullets flew at my head but were destroyed in midflight. Earth and water and ice were flung at me but were blown to dust and mist. Some attempted to fight fire with fire, but I ripped it from them and made their fire my own, turning it on them, burning them until their skin was blackened and they fell to their knees.

A man with a black armband around his bicep leapt from the station platform above me, a blade long and wicked sharp high over his head, meaning to slam it down into the back of my neck. My head snapped up to him as he jumped, and he was blown up into the ceiling, the brick and plaster cracking and shattering as he struck it. The knife slipped from his fingers and began to fall toward the ground, but I caught it in an updraft and it shot back up, burying the blade to the hilt in the man’s chest, pinning him to the ceiling.

I was told that a few were able to slip by me, slinking low to the ground and away from the flames that burst from me. They immediately went for the remains of the Circle, for my heart sworn. I must have heard the sounds of battle behind me, and I turned, the fire on my skin turning a dark red as it sparked and flashed. Fire and lightning fell from the ceiling and scorched the Scarred King’s people, knocking them back across the room. I raised my hands and put my thumbs and index fingers together in front of me, creating a circle that was pointed at my family. I blew into that circle between my fingers, and a bloom of fire poured into the air and surrounded the Circulus Custodum in a half sphere, shielding them from any outside attack. I saw a man try to break through the sphere, but he was burned upon approach when a flare shot from it and wrapped around his neck. My fire flung him into the air and away. His skin smoked as he landed on the floor and died.

And still more came. I remember none of their faces, none of their powers or weapons. I only remember a deep and dark fog that blanketed everything. Sometimes my mother was with me in that fog, sometimes Seven. Both were coated in dark oil running thick down their faces, their arms and hands. Sometimes I was alone with the black crude, and it told me I was strong, that I was capable and that I could do anything I put my mind to. Wasn’t it just easier to float here? To turn everything off and just float? I thought about it, considered it, even, but then Seven would be at my side, the ocean calm, his smile sad, and he would open his mouth, and oil would spill out as he reached out and clutched the burning ensign around my neck, metal depicting wind and fire. You are my heart, he bubbled through the black.

I don’t know how long I stayed away while my body preserved itself and everyone I love by fighting back. No one could tell me how long it went on. By the time the smoke cleared and the fire disappeared from my skin, bodies were piled three high around me, stretching out across the platform floor. The room was in ruins, the smell of burnt flesh permeating the air. My vision cleared, and I staggered to my knees.

Well done, the oil sighed within me. That was… something.

Remember your promise, the Tree demanded from a field so very far away.

“Felix,” Seven whispered, his voice like gravel, heard even above the beating of my heart, the roaring in my ears. “Felix!” he said louder, stronger, angrier.

“Seven,” I croaked and began to crawl toward him, over the dead, the burned, and the electrocuted. Tears sprung to my eyes as my hand slipped on someone’s face, my fingers sliding into the sockets where their eyes had been. My naked body quaked. “Seven.”

Big hands slid under me, and I was lifted off the men and women I’d killed and pressed against a massive chest. Otis put his chin on the top of my head as he carried me toward my heart sworn. “Ya shut yer eyes now,” Otis whispered to me. “Ya done good this day, just shut your eyes.” I did as the big man told me, closing my eyes away from the death and destruction. I felt him drop to his knees, and he laid me against another chest, this one more familiar, the scent of pine strong even above the charred remains. Otis let me go and I fell onto Seven, feeling his hands come up and around my back. His lips were on my neck as he breathed me in. I trembled in his arms. My hand drifted over the blood on his chest, tacky under my fingers, but the wound was gone, the skin scarred over and hairless in a circle the size of a half dollar. The muscle underneath felt hard as ever. Alive. His heart beat against his chest, and tears slipped from my cheeks and splashed down on him but that was okay, it was fine, because Seven was here, he was alive, and he would always be alive.

I felt him cup my face in his hands, and I opened my eyes and looked deep into the ocean, and I shuddered at what I saw, the depths of his love for me. I moaned at his touch, a low guttural sound that made me sound as if I ached. His thumbs brushed over my forehead, my eyebrows, my cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Felix,” he breathed.

“Don’t you fucking do that to me again,” I muttered weakly as I watched him. “Don’t you ever leave me like that again.”

Soon, the Tree whispered.

“You saved me, didn’t you?” he whispered, his eyes wide as he held me close. “I was gone. I remember being gone, but you saved me. How?”

By trading myself for you. I shook my head quickly, putting up the walls in my mind before he saw. I didn’t want him to know. “It doesn’t matter!” I cried, beating my hands against his chest. “It doesn’t matter! Just don’t ever do that to me again!”

Seven captured my wrists with one hand and pulled me back down on top of him. He covered me with his big arms and crushed me into his chest. I wept against him, suddenly so very tired. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home to the Station and go to sleep in my bed with Seven, feeling him curled around me, safe and warm and protected and alive. We would stay in that bed forever, and nothing would bother us ever again.

Except I had made a promise to the Elemental God.

I clutched at him, wondering how I was ever going to say good-bye to this man. My heart began to crack.

BUT it wasn’t over. There was one last thing to see, one last secret to be told.

SOMEONE found a long coat off one of the bodies that lay strewn about Mendacium Station. It was fitted over my shoulders to cover my nakedness. Jason helped Seven to his feet and held onto my heart sworn’s waist, keeping the weight off his broken leg. I took the other side and rested my head against his shoulder, so strong under my forehead. He kissed my hair, and we turned away from the station.

Then Otis cried out in terror.

“What!” Amy shouted, looking around wildly, ready for an attack that never came.

“Tick!” Otis bellowed as he took off down the tunnel at a run.

“Otis!” Seven called after him. “Wait!”

“Oh, that poor boy,” Edna sobbed. “What if something’s happened to Tick?”

“Or what if he was in on the whole thing?” Seven snarled.

No one said a word as we began to move down the tunnel. Only minutes later did we hear Otis cry out again, this time in bitter anguish. The sound was low and mournful, sending chills up and down my spine. A tear slipped down my cheek as I shuddered. The others stopped and looked at me. “Dan,” I choked out. “He… he must have found Dan.”

Edna cried harder.

“How?” Seven asked.

I almost couldn’t find the words. “Tock,” I gasped out. “It was Tock. He killed him. He had him up against the wall and he killed him. I saw the whole thing. Tock… killed him.”

The Circle wrapped themselves around me, tears in all their eyes, sobs quietly echoing through the darkened tunnel. We stood there, if only for a moment, the Circle broken and incomplete. Dan, my Magister of Wind; Dan who’d come bellowing into the Station, demanding his right to be tested for the Circulus Custodum.

But you didn’t ask the Tree to bring him back, did you? the oil asked. You didn’t even think of him when asking for miracles.

He was already gone, I thought weakly.

It laughed.

I tried to keep them from looking at his body when we passed by it, still stuck up on the wall, his head sagging, blood still dripping off his boot to the floor. Edna cried out and fell to her knees beneath him, pressing her face into his legs, begging him to come back, to make everything okay again. Nauseous guilt filled my stomach like acid, and my vision blurred as I gagged. Seven held me against him tightly, his eyes never leaving his friend up on the wall.

“We’re not leaving him down here,” he said quietly.

“You’re fucking right we’re not!” Edna shrieked. “He was always scared of the dark! We can’t leave him here!” Amy went to her side and whispered in her ear, the words hiding under Edna’s cries. Eventually, Edna softened and stood back up and reaching out to pull a brick loose, revealing one of Dan’s hands. She leaned forward and kissed it gently. “Good-bye, dear heart,” she whispered. “We’ll see you again. Circulum numquam finit.”

A circle never ends.

We reached the ladder that led up to the station above us. I panicked at the thought of Seven not being able to get out of that dark place, that he would have to stay down there forever and be consumed by the blackness, but Jason popped his neck and spun around, motioning for Seven to climb onto his back. For five terrifying minutes, we watched them climb up, slowly, muscles quivering as Jason reached for the next rung. It got to the point where they reached the ceiling overhead, forcing Seven to climb up and above Jason, hopping on one foot, up one rung at a time. They finally cleared the ladder.

“Felix,” Seven growled down. “Get your ass up here now. I need you.”

I’ve never climbed a ladder as fast as I did then. His arms were open and waiting when I reached the top.

While Amy and Edna made their way up the ladder, Jason went to the open door that led to the tracks and peered out into the platform, down the tunnel. He leaned back in, his eyes wide. “It’s empty,” he said quietly.

And it was. I wondered at it for a moment as we walked down the tracks, wondered at the buzzing sound I heard all around us. It got louder as we reached the platform, hoisting ourselves up and onto the walkway. It was only then that I realized it for what it was: it was the crowd above us, a million strong, screaming in joy and celebration, feet stomping, voices laughing. The people of Terra City celebrated as we climbed the stairs, heartsore and grimy, shocked and bloody. They shook the foundation of the world, and I hated every single one of them.

We reached the top of the stairs, snow falling heavily around us, the white clouds brighter than I would have thought possible. A voice boomed out across streets, and I could see a surging crowd writhing in exaltation at the words: “And as mayor of this glorious city, this magnificent beacon of hope, I will promise you this: the world will remember what we did here today. They will remember what we have accomplished. They will see that you can never beat back the human spirit, that we, as God’s children, will never break to the will of those that would take from us! We will rebuild! We will rejoice! We will mourn those poor souls who lost their lives on November 4, and I promise you: for them, we will live!”

The crowd roared.

“Hell is empty and the devils are all here,” Edna said bitterly.

I turned away from the throngs of people and saw Otis’s feet sticking out of the back of the van, his knees bouncing gently. I urged Seven and the rest toward the van, and as we passed around the open doors, I saw a sight that broke my heart even further.

Otis sat in the back of the van on its floor, Tick pulled into his lap, still and lax, the remains of nylon restraints dangling from his arms. I took in a sharp breath as the tears slid down Otis’s face. He looked up at me, the misery glassy in his eyes. “I can’t get ’im to wake up,” he choked out. “Ya gotta help me, Felix. Ya gotta save ’im like ya did Sevvy. I don’t ask fer much, but I’m askin’ ya for this.”

My hand trembled as I reached down and felt for a pulse in Tick’s neck. I breathed a sigh of relief when it thrummed against my fingertips, thready and weak, but there. “He’s okay,” I told Otis quietly. “He’s just knocked out from the drug.”

Otis knocked my hand away and reached up to brush the hair out of Tick’s face. “I found Dan,” he said, his eyes never leaving the boy in his lap.

“I know,” I said, blinking back the tears.

“Was it Tock?” he asked. “Did he do this?”

“Yeah, buddy, he did,” Seven sighed. He reached down and rubbed his hand through his best friend’s hair.

“I’ll kill him,” Otis said flatly. “I’ll rip him apart with my hands. Don’t need no fire. Don’t need my gun. I’m gonna do it with my hands.” I felt cold.

And then it came.

Hello, Felix, the oil whispered, that voice I’d heard since it’d told me to burn my mother so long ago. That voice I knew to be darkness. It’s so nice to finally see you. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I spun around, feeling Seven jerk in surprise. My eyes darted around the throngs of people leaving the celebration early, laughing and dancing in the street. They reveled and moved with such fluid grace, the motions of the happy, the sane, the Normal, and I wanted to blast them all out of the way. Something was coming. Something was almost here.

“Felix?” Seven growled. “What is it?” He hobbled up to the side of me, his eyes searching the crowd. His hand landed on my shoulder, and I felt him push his way into my mind and his grip on my shoulder tensed. I didn’t have time to get all the walls back up. I didn’t know what he had seen in my head, but at that moment, it didn’t matter.

“Otis,” I snarled. “Put Tick in the van and close the door.” The tone in my voice left no room for discussion, and Otis saw to it immediately. The van doors slammed as Amy and Jason moved to my left, Otis moving to the other side of Seven on my right. I felt a surge of power as they stood beside me, but it was broken, incomplete. Three of our members were gone: one lost to unconsciousness, another to death, the last to betrayal. I didn’t know if we would be enough.

People continued to pass in front of us, oblivious to the line of people standing in front of a van, tensed as if ready for an attack that was about to come. “Show yourself,” I muttered. “Come on you bastard, you whore. Show yourself.”

Nothing.

And then—

Felix, it whispered.

The crowd parted as if choreographed, and across the street stood the gray-eyed man. He smiled at us as he pulled the person next to him to the front. Tock averted his eyes to the ground, his hands shaking at his side. I heard Otis roar from my right and start to move forward, but Seven grabbed his arm and pulled him back, the bigger man almost yanking my heart sworn off his feet. Seven cried out in pain as he landed on his bad leg, and that was enough to clear the fury from Otis’s eyes. He stepped back up onto the sidewalk, reaching around to support Seven’s weight.

I turned to look back at the gray-eyed man, but then everything stopped: the people on the street, the snow falling from the sky, the spinning of the world on its axis. The world ceased to be around us, because standing next to the gray-eyed man was my mother.

I knew she was alive. I’d known for a couple of days. I remembered what the revelation had done to me. But even though I knew, even though I had been told by the gray-eyed man that she’d been watching me in the Mendacium Station, I was not prepared for her to be standing across the street from me, a ghost torn from my past.

She wore black boots that rose up to her knees, covering black pants. A long red trench coat wrapped around her shoulders and almost scraped against the sidewalk, cinched tightly around her waist. Her blonde hair flowed down her head in unnatural waves. I wondered incoherently if it was a wig. Then I saw why they called her the Scarred King.

Her face was, by definition, still a face. The angle of her jaw, the point of her chin. Her nose subtle and curved. Her ears poked out from the blonde tendrils. But everything ended there.

Almost every inch of identifiable skin on her face was covered in scars, keloid and hypertrophied. The ridges of her skin were pulled tight against the muscles of her jaws, raised puckered flesh, white and red lining her face. She smiled when she saw me watching her, and the grimace of her lips pulling back and stretching her face was almost too much to bear. I dropped my eyes and saw the scarring on her hands. I wondered just how much it covered her body. How had she survived? I looked back up at her again, that horrible smile still on her face. But then it was her eyes that struck me the hardest: those eyes that even from across the street I could see were so very much like my own.

“Stay with me,” I heard a voice whisper.

I snapped my head away from my mother and looked up at Seven. He nodded at me, his eyes hard, but his love for me shining down. “Stay with me, little man. They won’t try anything here. Not with all these people around.”

I wanted to ask how he knew this, how he could be so sure, but my throat was locked, my voice gone. His arm was still wrapped around me, and I knew he could see the horrors in my head, the way her hand had fallen on my shoulder that night so many years ago. How I’d turned in that dark basement and how that voice had told me to burn her and I had. I’d unleashed the fires within me, and I had burned her flesh from her bones.

I remember that, the oil chuckled, and I felt Seven tense next to me as he heard it speak. I remember that night so clearly. We were so young, weren’t we, Felix? So young, so full of hope. But at least you had a family. At least you hadn’t been ripped from your home. This last came out as a bitter condemnation.

I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense. Who are you? I heard Seven ask from somewhere in my head. Who the fuck are you?

I am truth, it said, its voice as strong as I’d ever heard it. I am reality, I am ascension. I am Findo Unum. I am Halved Mind, and I will be made whole. And who knows, Seven. If things had worked out differently, maybe I would have been yours instead of him. You could have been my Iuratum Cor.

He’s mine! I growled.

For now, it whispered. But who can say what the shape of things will be?

And then my mother stepped to the side, her eyes never leaving mine. And from the shadows of the building, another figure stepped forward. The snowy light hit his face, and I saw it was me.

At least, that was the first thought I had. The world seemed to bend around me as a feeling of illusoriness washed over me as I looked across the street into what had to be a mirror. The man next to my mother looked like me, his hair, his face, his size, everything the same. He wore a dark pea coat over jeans and boots, clothes exactly like I had in my closet back at the Station. His left bicep had the black bifurcated band around it. He was me. But logic stepped in, synapses fired, and his mouth curved up into a slight chuckle that echoed in my head. No, I thought. No. No. This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.

Hello, brother, he said, grinning wickedly, his voice ringing throughout my head. It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.

There’s two, the Tree whispered in my head, a memory pulled up from the dregs. There’s always two.

If it won’t be you, then it will be the other! the Tree’s corruption had told me.

No. You’re not real!

He shrugged. But I am. Didn’t you know that twins run in the family? He glanced over at the Scarred King, then back at me. Oh, probably not, huh? Dad wasn’t really the type to share anything about your past, was he? Speaking of, how is dear old dad these days?

This struck fear in my heart, and he felt it. He laughed as he thought, Don’t worry. He was never supposed to be a part of today. Why do you think we cut off his communications with you?

How?

He cocked his head. Does it matter? You always focused on the frivolities of life, Felix. You never understood what it is you are, what you’re meant to become. I’ve seen the Tree, Felix. You took me there. I heard your promise. It couldn’t have gone better had I planned it this way.

You did all of this? Seven snapped. This was you?

My brother looked surprised. You think it was her? he asked incredulously, nodding toward our mother. That she could have done all of this? What bullshit. The Scarred King. How fucking trite can you get? She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s just a pawn, just as much as you are. She’ll get hers. You just wait and see.

This isn’t over, I thought.

No, it’s not, he agreed. But soon, yeah? Soon it will be. He paused. Looks like the cavalry is here.

I heard the pounding of feet running down the alley behind us, and we all turned and saw members of the Security Force moving full speed down the alley, their faces determined, fire, earth, water, wind all trailing behind them. They saw the Circle and slowed. They saw me, and the relief on their faces was brilliant. I raised my hand in warning and felt them crowd around us, reaching out to touch my head, my neck, my shoulders. They just wanted to make sure I was in once piece. They didn’t know that I was already broken beyond repair.

“Your father sent us,” one said, his voice trembling.

I nodded and turned back to my brother, and I felt them all tense behind me, the shock of seeing my face across the street running like an electrical current through their bodies. My twin brother smiled at me and called out, his voice clear and hard. It was the voice of the oil in my head. I’d always wondered why it sounded like me. “Two more things, Felix, before we part. First: my name is Maxius Paracel. Call me Max.” He grinned.

“And the second?” Seven growled.

Max glanced at Seven before looking back at me. “Second,” he called out, the people crossing in front of us oblivious to the familial drama. “Second, you should know what I am. You should know what I can do.” He raised his arms out in front of him, his left palm pointed toward the sky, the right toward the ground. The snow falling above his left hand trembled and broke apart, snapping back to water that twisted and swirled above his hand. The rocks and dirt on the ground began to shift before rising into the air, spinning up around his arm.

“It can’t be,” Edna breathed. “It’s not possible!”

Maxius Paracel smiled at her. “But it is. There’s always two. Isn’t that right, Felix?”

“This changes nothing,” Seven scowled.

“This changes everything,” Max snapped. “You just don’t know it yet.” He glanced at our mother, who nodded at him. He looked back at me, dropping his hands to his side, the water splashing onto the sidewalk, the debris bouncing off the concrete. “We’ll meet again,” he called out to me. “And you won’t see me coming, brother.”

And then they turned and melted into the crowd.

Otis started forward again, followed quickly by the Security Force. I called out to them, the tremble in my voice causing them to stop. “No,” I said hoarsely. “Not here. Not today.”

Otis glared mutinously at me until I reminded him of Tick. He ran back to the van. Seven told the force of Dan’s location, and they left immediately to bring him home. The big guy pulled me back into his arms.

The snow fell around us, and I didn’t think I would ever be warm again.

Epilogue

A tree is an incomprehensible mystery.

—Jim Woodring

NEAR dawn on a cold winter’s day.

After Seven had returned from surgery for his leg, he’d been placed in a private room in the infirmary at the Portandum Station, his left leg now full of pins and a steel rod, suspended in air in a harness. He’d been groggy for the moment he’d awoken, and panicked, his eyes darting around the room. But the moment he saw me, the fog cleared slightly from his eyes, and he relaxed, reaching out a hand for me, pulling me onto the bed with him despite my protestations and the protestations of the doctors around us. He didn’t care. He saw what he wanted and that was me. As soon as I was curled up by his side—exhausted, as I hadn’t yet slept—he wrapped his arm around me and grunted his relief. I fell asleep as his chest started to rumble, as it was prone to do.

I dreamt of fire and my brother.

I woke before Seven did that early morning. Darkness still flooded the windows, snow falling heavily outside the Station. I watched him sleep for what felt like hours, memorizing the lines of his face, that luxuriant beard, those beautiful lips. I begged him silently to open his ocean eyes and see me, to hold me down and not let me run. I placed my hand above his heart and counted the beats. I reached one hundred… two hundred… five hundred. I was stalling. I knew I was stalling.

Of course you are, my brother whispered. You know nothing else in the world. You are but a child as to the way of things.

I slammed up the walls around my mind to keep him out. I didn’t want him there as I said good-bye.

I pulled myself from the bed and stayed in the shadows as I made my way up to the third floor. It was early but there were still people about the Station, in the Pavilion, in the hallways. No one saw me as I slid into the elevators.

The third floor. My home. Our home. It’d only been weeks since I arrived, and yet it felt like forever. Memories like ghosts rose up from the floor, haunting me as I watched Seven and me laughing on the couch, Seven and me cooking in the kitchen, Seven and me loving against a wall. Seven occupied every little space, every nook and cranny, and even as my heart broke, I lingered, watching, remembering.

The bedroom was the hardest. I moved more quickly when I was in the bedroom.

A backpack from the bottom of the closet. I shoved some clothes in. Shoes. Toothbrush. Socks. My laptop. Where was I going to go? I couldn’t go back to my apartment. My mother would know where that was. Seven knew where that was.

To me, the Tree sang out. It sounded like the flowers. You come to me.

I was about to zip up the bag when I grabbed one of his shirts (my favorite on him, deep blue, like his eyes, and it smelled like him, always) and shoved it in with my clothes before I could stop myself. I told myself I’d give it back when I came home. I felt like a liar.

I surveyed the room one last time, and before I could stop myself, I reached up around my neck and unclasped the chain I found there. I pulled the medallion out of my shirt, and my chest felt instantly bare without its comforting weight. The ensign caught the lamplight and flashed once, then twice as it twisted. Es cor meum, the fire whispered. Es cor meum, the wind sang. I placed it on his pillow and grabbed my bag and left. You are my heart.

I planned on walking out the front door right then. I should have.

But I had to see him one last time. I needed to watch him while he slept for a minute more, to drink my fill of him for the long drought ahead. After all, it was likely I would never see him again. And on the small chance he did find me, he would most likely have to kill me. This much I knew. The Tree had plans for me. I didn’t know how long I could resist It.

I nodded at the night nurse, who gave me a small smile as I walked by her office. I reached the door to Seven’s room and paused. The vibe was different. It was aware. Seven was awake. I knew he was awake. I took a step back. I turned to leave. “Felix,” I heard him growl. I stopped. I can’t do this, I thought, as I fought to keep the tears from falling. Oh God, how can I do this?

“Felix!” he barked.

I went into the room, unable to stop myself. When he called, I answered, simple as that.

Seven was propped up with two pillows behind his back, his face waxen and pale, his eyes clouded by whatever drugs they had him on. But beneath all that, I saw a simmer in the ocean, a dark revolution that took my breath away.

I stayed near the door.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I shook my head.

“Now.”

“Seven—”

“Felix,” he warned. “If you’re not by my side in three seconds then I’m getting out of this bed and you’re going to be so very sorry you didn’t listen to me.”

I went to him. I practically ran to him.

His eyes softened when I reached him, and he tugged me down for a tender kiss, his beard brushing against my face, causing a gentle burn. His tongue pressed against my lips, and I sighed into his mouth as he cupped the back of my head. How am I going to do this? I thought wildly. He needs me. I can’t leave him. I can’t.

Oh, but you will, the Tree whispered in my head, breaking through the walls. You will because I can just as easily take my gift away. I can cause that chest wound to open up again and Septem will die in front of you. You leave, he lives. You stay, he dies. Your choice.

I pulled away from my heart sworn.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice hard.

I looked down at the floor. “Just out for a little while, big guy.”

“When will you be back?” He reached out and grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him.

Tears burned my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said.

“I know what you did,” Seven Fortis told me, his voice breaking. “Oh my God, little man, I saw what you did.”

I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. “I had to keep you safe!” I cried at him. “I had to keep you alive!”

He shook his head, gripping me tighter. His eyes were red. “You should have let me die!” he shouted. “Christ, Felix, do you know what you’ve done?”

My eyes narrowed. “I will never let you die,” I hissed at him. “I would make the same decision again and again if I had to! I will always choose you!”

He jerked my arm and pulled me onto his chest, wrapping his big arms around me possessively. I felt smothered, crushed into him. I gasped as the tears fell onto his chest. “You’re not going anywhere, Felix. Get that fucking idea out of your head right now.”

I shook in his arms. “I have to, big guy. You know I do.”

“I don’t care!” Panic was starting to burst through his anger. “You said you would always choose me, so fucking choose me now!”

“You know I can’t do that,” I sobbed. “It’ll take you away from me if I don’t.”

“Fuck the goddamn Tree! You don’t belong to It! You fucking belong to me!”

“We don’t even know if that’s true anymore, Seven.” My words caused me to shudder.

“What!” he roared, pulling my face up until I was inches away from him. The ocean was alive like it’d never been before, the storm far greater than anything I’d known. “What did you say?” he snarled.

“Max,” I trembled. “Maxius.”

“I don’t fucking care about Maxius!”

“But what if….”

“What!”

Please give me strength. “What if you’re wrong? What if all of us were wrong? Maybe he’s… maybe you’re… supposed to be….”

His grip on my face tightened. “Never,” he said, his jaw twitching. “I am yours and you are mine. I don’t care who the fuck else is out there in the world. I don’t fucking care if he is Split or Findo Unum. You are my heart, little man. You will always be my heart.”

“Did you know about him?”

Seven shook his head angrily. “No, Felix. I didn’t. I never knew.”

It was getting harder to leave. “I have to go,” I gasped out, struggling to get away.

“No!”

I knew I loved him at that moment, completely and fully. But to say so seemed to be too much. I couldn’t make the words come out, no matter how hard I tried. So I didn’t, and instead focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Get your fucking ass back here!” Seven screamed.

My face wet. My heart in pieces. I had to leave. I couldn’t do this. “I gotta go, big guy. I gotta go.”

“I could stop you,” he snarled. “All it’ll take is me alerting everyone in the fucking building, and you won’t be able to leave. I’ll have you locked up until I can beat some fucking sense into you!”

“But you won’t.”

“Try me, Felix. Just fucking try me.”

“You won’t risk having them get hurt.”

He coughed, and I could see his strength draining. “You would hurt them?”

I nodded, knowing I was damned. “If it meant keeping you alive. Yes. I would destroy them all.” And I would. I would tear this Station down brick by brick if it meant he would live at least another day.

“They need you,” he said weakly. “I need you.”

I shook my head and took another step back.

Leave now, the Tree said. I’m running out of patience.

Seven was struggling to remain conscious, pulling at the needle in his arm that pumped in the drug from the IV bag. “Get back here,” he muttered. “Get your ass over here.”

I took another step back.

“Felix!” he cried out, his voice filled with pain and horror. “You know what It’ll do to you! You know what’ll happen!”

I did, but it didn’t matter. Seven would be alive. I turned before he could see me break down completely. My shoulders shook. My body ached. I had to get out of there before I couldn’t leave.

“No!” Seven said, and I heard him moving, trying to get out of the bed, and I turned back. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it.

“Don’t, Seven,” I said as I watched him struggle to sit up, to put his feet on the floor. He snarled at the harness that held up his left leg.

“Then don’t leave!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter!” he shouted. “You’re already killing me! I can’t do this without you. I won’t!”

“You know I have to,” I said, anger forming for the first time. “You know what I have to do!”

“I don’t know shit about that! Get your fucking ass over here now!”

I turned again and walked toward the door.

“Felix!”

I paused at the doorway, but I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. “I’m leaving, Seven. You can’t stop me.”

Silence.

I was so tired.

Then:

“I’ll find you,” he said, his voice a warning and a promise, but resigned nonetheless, defeated and miserable. “Do what you have to do to hold on. Do what’s necessary to stay alive. But I will find you. I will come for you, and you will never leave my side again.”

“The Tree,” I whispered.

“The Tree is nothing compared to me. I’ll fucking tear It down with my bare hands to find you. I don’t care if It is God. I would destroy It to find you.”

I didn’t stop myself then. I ran back to him, and his arms were open, and I kissed him with everything I had. I poured every ounce of love and desire I had into him, every terror and fear and worry. I gave and he took. I wrenched away and rested my forehead against his, hot tears splashing down on his face, mixing with his own. “I’m so scared,” I wept quietly.

He shuddered, his big hands pawing at my face, my neck, my back. “I know, honey, I know. But you will be strong and brave, and I will find you, do you hear me? I will find you and you will come home.”

“Because you’re my home, right? Please say you’re my home.”

He nodded, his cheeks wet, his voice cracking. “I am your home, little man. I will always be your home.”

I left him then. I turned and walked toward the door for the last time. “I love you,” he said.

I nodded tightly. “Watch over the rest, will you? Please tell them I’m sorry.”

He started to get worked up again. “Can’t you just wait—”

I stopped at the door, unable to look at his face. “Seven?”

“Yeah, little man?” His voice was broken, so broken and tired.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“When?”

“When… when you were dying. You said you had no regrets.”

No hesitation. “I meant it. Every word.” I felt those ocean eyes watching over me.

I nodded again. “Good-bye,” I whispered.

He screamed after me, but I didn’t stop.

I ran.

BEFORE I left the Station, I used my fire to carve Dan’s name on the statue in the Pavilion.

I will never forget you, I told him. You are Circle. The world shall always remember your name.

AFTER nightfall on a cold winter’s eve.

I stood high above Terra City, on the rooftop of the Cantio Building. It seemed fitting to return to the place where this had all started, my new life. The building was still under repair, the work ongoing and busy. No one seemed to notice that I didn’t belong in the building. I hid on an empty floor until I was sure most were gone.

The lights of the city below were bright. The snow fell beautifully. It was almost Christmas. I didn’t know when I would see this again. I didn’t know if I ever would.

My phone rang in my pocket. I’d forgotten to put it with the rest of my things I’d hidden in a crawl space on the top floor of the Cantio Building. I didn’t think I needed anything where I was going.

I pulled the phone out of my pocket. Blocked number. It didn’t matter. I knew who it was. I connected the call and put it against my ear. “Hello, Mother,” I said.

Christine Rose Paracel laughed. “Hello, Felix.” So many memories from her voice. Too many.

I waited.

“Where are you?” she asked finally.

“Why?”

“Because I want to see you,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “There are so many things for us to catch up on. The last sixteen years just seem to have gotten away from me.”

“Have they?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Granted, the first couple of years are still hazy, what with the coma and all the surgeries, but I don’t want to bore you will all of those details. Tell me all about you! What makes Felix Paracel tick?” She paused. “Oh, forgive me. I probably shouldn’t use the word ‘tick’. Too soon, right?”

I said nothing.

“But don’t you worry. Tock is in good hands. I know how close you two got. It’s a shame about his brother, though. I’m sure he’ll always have a cloud of suspicion over his head now, won’t he?”

“What do you want?” I asked my mother.

“Maxius tells me you’re taking a trip. Imagine my surprise when I was told it was to see what I assumed was a figment of the Elemental imagination. The Tree, Felix? Really?”

“What do you want?” I asked again.

“Tell me how to get to the field,” she breathed. “I want to see It for myself.”

“No.”

“Felix,” she said, her voice dropping. “You have the darkness in you. Maxius has seen it. He knows what is in you. Come to me, and I promise you I will do everything I can to protect you. The Scarred King has considerable resources, and I will devote them all to you.”

“And what about Max?”

“He is a tool and nothing more,” she said coldly. “He has run his course of usefulness to me. But you… you and I could go places. You are already recognized as the Findo Unum. Think about all we could accomplish. The world and all the people in it would be ours.”

“No,” I said.

“Felix!” she shrieked. “I am your fucking mother! I am the Scarred King! You will do as I command!”

“No,” I said again.

“Then everyone you love will die,” she snarled. “Your father, your precious Circle, all those people in the fucking Station. All of them will die. And when you return from the field, I will have Seven’s head waiting for you on a pike! I can promise you that no one will suffer as much as he!”

I saw red, all the fires of the world flashing before my eyes. “One day, Mother, and one day very soon, you and I will finish what I started that night. I will burn the flesh from your body until there is nothing left but ash. I’ll scatter you to the wind, and you will be no more.” I ended the call. I threw the phone off the edge of the building.

No more wasting time. It was now or never.

I took seven steps back from the edge of the rooftop. I bounced on my knees once. The snow fell around me. Wind whipped through my hair. One foot in front of the other, I ran toward the edge of the Cantio Building, and as I dove into empty space, he filled my head. The first time we kissed. The first time we made love. The first time he’d held me when I was but a child. He was my everything. My love, my heart sworn. All I did was for him.

You are not alone in this, he whispered in my head, and I knew it to be true.

The flare in my chest exploded, and I burst into flames, the fire licking my skin as it spread, the light emanating from me causing the world to brighten. Wind ripped over my body, fanning the fire. I am Ignis. I am Ventis.

I am Findo Unum. I am heart sworn to Seven Cassius Fortis.

I fell, burning, through the night, and below me, a hole tore between worlds, electricity arcing off its ragged edges, and I could see the field of flowers waiting below, impossibly bright. I felt the air shift around me, and as I crossed from this world to the next, as I flipped to the other side, I thought of Seven.

I LANDED on flowers wet with oil and corruption. The portal closed behind me, and Terra City was gone. I stood ablaze in a field that was no longer a dream.

“Welcome, Findo Unum,” the Tree said. “We have much to discuss.”

I smiled.

About the Author

When TJ KLUNE was eight, he picked up a pen and paper and began to write his first story (which turned out to be his own sweeping epic version of the video game Super Metroid—he didn’t think the game ended very well and wanted to offer his own take on it. He never heard back from the video game company, much to his chagrin). Now, two decades later, the cast of characters in his head have only gotten louder, wondering why he has to go to work as a claims examiner for an insurance company during the day when he could just stay home and write.

He lives with a neurotic cat in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. It’s hot there, but he doesn’t mind. He dreams about one day standing at Stonehenge, just so he can say he did.

TJ can be found on Facebook under TJ Klune.

His blog is tjklunebooks.blogspot.com.

You can e-mail him at tjklunebooks@yahoo.com.

Also from TJ KLUNE

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Fantasy Romance from DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Table of Contents

- Copyright
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Also from TJ Klune
- Fantasy Romance from Dreamspinner Press