The door opened. I didn’t need to see more than a few strands of his limp brown hair before I slammed the door the rest of the way open and jumped on him. With my arms wrapped around his scrawny neck, I was bawling before his back hit the ground.
“Maia.” My uncle’s voice. My family. My blood.
He was laughing. Teary-eyed, I lifted my head off his chest just to make sure of it. His youthful face flowered into a grin too childish for his thirty years.
“It’s only been two months.” He showed all his teeth as he laughed, sweetly, happily, because he was just as ecstatic to see me. It was just the two of us, after all, since the day his dead older brother’s only surviving daughter had arrived at his New York apartment looking for a place to sleep.
My body shook as we both sat up, and a fresh wave of tears spilled out as both his hands crushed my cheeks together. I could feel Belle awkwardly maneuvering around us, trying to shut the door. “Sorry,” I said, and moved. We weren’t exactly being stealthy.
Uncle Nathan let go of me. “After the hotel was attacked in New York—”
“I know, I know. I wanted to call you, but—”
“Yeah, the Sect. Don’t worry, I’m up to date. Well, on most of it. I’ve read enough headlines to fill in the rest.”
We stared at each other, and that’s when I noticed what I didn’t before: the weight he’d lost. He’d already been a thin guy, but though his face had kept most of its vibrancy, it’d slimmed down too much for me to ignore, his skin matte and dry. And the circles under his eyes . . .
“You haven’t been sleeping.” Just like after Dad died.
Uncle Nathan’s hands stayed around my face, but his grip had slacked to the point where I could only feel the rough touch of his fingers. “I’m so sorry” was all he said.
It was his turn. The tears began to leak out one by one before he swiped his face quickly. “Maia, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from this.”
A thousand words passed between us in silence. His hands fell onto his lap as we considered which to speak out loud.
“Hey!” I tapped his shoulder. “Look what I can do!”
I sat back, sliding from him a little in case something went wrong. Then I snapped my fingers. The tiniest flame erupted at the tip of my thumb, flickering gently in the air.
Uncle Nathan laughed in amazement. “Look at you! You’re a little lighter!”
“There’s other stuff too!” I stood up excitedly, but Belle gripped my shoulder before I could get too carried away.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said. “Mr. Finley, my name is—”
“Belle Rousseau. Of course I know.” He jumped to his feet to shake her hand, a little too fast like he always did when he was nervous. “It’s an honor to meet you. Wow, Maia, you’ve really upgraded your list of friends.”
“Yeah, from zero to a positive whole number.”
Belle seemed a little taken aback and—maybe? Was it my imagination?—shy. Shy at the word “friend.” Her cheeks were a little redder, but it might have been a trick of the light.
“We’ve asked you here for a specific purpose,” she said.
“Yeah, the agent of one of the other Effigies—Lake? He called me and said you guys would explain. I don’t know, I could barely understand what he was saying—he just kind of barked stuff at me and hung up.”
Grabbing his hand, I helped him up. “I’ll fill in everything now.”
It took some time to put everything out there. Saul being at large, he knew about. But he didn’t know about the mysterious soldier with the mark at the back of his neck. Jessie, who could control the dead with her thoughts. The mind control. The flash drive. When I told him about that, Belle handed it to him.
“Are you okay?” Urgently, he pulled me by the arm and swept back my hair to check my neck. “It’s still red. God. Maia, if I’d known you were going through all this . . .”
“You couldn’t have done anything anyway,” I said with a shrug.
Running his hand through his hair, he turned and started across the room. “I’ve never heard of nanotechnology that advanced.” He sat in a chair by the curtain-drawn window and set up his laptop on the table, pushing away a little tray of milk and sugar for coffee. “But none of this surprises me. Development firms around the world have been looking for a way to reproduce Effigy-like abilities. And I suppose they’d also need to come up with a method to control them.”
I walked behind him. “Why?”
“Why else? For defense. For war.” He looked at the drive. “When I was at Caltech, I heard whispers of a program jointly developed by DARPA and another defense subcontractor. That guy you mentioned, Grunewald? His name definitely came up.”
“DARPA?” I furrowed my brows, confused.
“The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.” He pushed up the lid of his laptop and clicked it on. “An agency within America’s Department of Defense.”
“What are they working on?” asked Belle.
“Were,” Uncle Nathan corrected. “I mean, it was years ago, after the Seattle Siege. An entire American city reduced to ashes by phantoms—of course the government was spooked enough to try different things. A black project. But the Senate axed it, I guess.”
He shoved the flash drive into his laptop and, for a moment, only stared very seriously at the empty black screen that popped up, sitting back in his chair with his fingers clasped.
“If this is even close to being similar to what I think this could be . . . then, Maia, you’ve stepped into some serious crap here.” He sighed. “Well, I guess I’m right in it with you.”
“Sorry.” My hand tightened its grip on the back of his chair. “Effigy or not, I’m still just some dumb kid asking you to do my homework for me.”
As he turned to look up at me, his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Well, the stakes are a bit higher this time around. There are worse things than getting a call from your principal.”
I watched him get out of his chair, stretching his arms above his head. “I didn’t want you to get roped into this.”
“No, you did the right thing coming to me.” His expression darkened as he lowered his voice almost instinctively. “If what you’re saying about the Sect is true, then you can’t trust them with this. We don’t know how many people inside and outside the organization are working with Saul. We don’t know how big this could really be, or how many people like Jessie are out there. Maia . . .” He grabbed my hand. “I strongly suggest you don’t go back to London.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Lake had sent me a text to hurry back, because apparently it was getting harder to keep her agent from sending out a search-and-rescue team.
“Well, I’ll leave you to break into the Sect’s or the American government’s or whoever’s secrets. Hopefully, you can find something out about those freaks who keep trying to kidnap me. Meanwhile, I have to go get ready so we can present the award for Male Hottie of the Year.” I paused. “My life is weird.”
“No kidding.” Uncle Nathan smirked. “You guys go ahead. I’ll stay here, pour myself some coffee, and work on this.” He cracked his knuckles. “Though, to be honest, I haven’t done any serious hacking since college.”
“Make sure you keep out of sight,” warned Belle.
“Sure.” He reached for the empty coffeepot next to his laptop and paused. “Heh. It’s kinda like a spy movie, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Uncle. Just like a spy movie.”
“Good luck,” Belle said, and we left him to the drive.
21
LAKE WOULD NOT ALLOW US to arrive at the red carpet too early. “You know who shows up early to red carpets?” she asked once our limo finally started toward the venue. “Has-beens and D-list reality TV show wankers. We are the Effigies. We hold the security of the world in the palm of our hands. Now pass me my phone. I need to take some selfies.”
The windows were tinted so none of the Torontonians jaywalking acro
ss the street could see how ridiculous I looked squirming into Lake’s photo, or the terrible kissy face I made with my lips because she said it was a popular pop-star pose. Chae Rin and Belle stayed resolutely out of the picture, a comfortable distance away from us and each other. The series of pictures that Lake uploaded was on the Doll Soldiers forum in under a minute.
Soon, we were on Queen Street. My nerves were shot as the screams bombarded us from all sides. Under the gray, sunless sky, fans stretched their hands out at our limo from behind a set of barricades glowing neon blue, almost like the metallic lights that skidded up a fully powered American Needle. Maybe it was antiphantom technology. Toronto was well protected because of the extra security they had around the city as well as the rail system protecting most of Canada’s small population. At least I knew I didn’t have to deal with phantoms tonight, but as our driver parked our limo right on the red carpet and we stepped out into the chaos, I almost wished I’d been sent on another mission.
“And look who just pulled up to our red carpet!” I heard the woman’s voice speaking into a microphone, but I had no idea who she was. “Looking as badass as ever—I’m about to be joined by the always-hella-epic Effigies. Make some noise for the Effigies!”
The crowd did. We were immediately swarmed by giant video cameras, staff, and security. Lake had stepped out first and she was already waving to the crowd, posing with her best angles in a short, off-the-shoulder red dress that matched her earthen skin tone. Lake had ordered us all the same one in the correct sizes and colors—peach for me, silver for Belle, black for Chae Rin. Had to look unified but distinct, she’d said. I hadn’t actually realized how much work and effort she’d put into this event in the midst of all the Saul chaos until this moment as I watched her confirm with event staff where we needed to go. She had the poise and control of someone who’d done this before, someone who fed off the energy like a willowy, starving plant soaking in the sunlight.
“Here we go—we’ve got the Effigies with us!”
Oh, so she was the interviewer. She was tall and busty with a beige dress on and her blond hair slicked back behind her ears. Lake ushered us forward, but my heels were too high and thin for a straight, smooth walk, so the second I tried to twist around to face the right way, I stumbled and nearly fell over.
“Oops, looks like she’s having a little bit of trouble there!”
Chae Rin grabbed my arm and helped me walk. I was sure that the one-second gaffe was already online, but what could I do about it? I had to keep smiling even as my cheeks hurt, even as I continued to scan the crowds for any sign of trouble.
“Hi!” the interviewer said, and only Lake and I bothered to respond as jovially as we could. “Ladies, hi! Wait a second, let’s turn around here and face the camera.”
We did. It felt strange being herded like sheep, but that was probably the normal condition of a celebrity on a red carpet.
“What an entrance,” she said as Lake stood closest to her. “A limo. Very classy. You girls seem to have gotten used to luxury!”
“Well, Kacey, they don’t call us warrior princesses for nothing,” Lake said into the mic, and I was sure the camera caught my cringe. I tried quickly to warp it into a mangled smile.
“Absolutely! Who else could make world security look so glamorous?” There was something so glassy and cheesy about Kacey’s grin; she probably wasn’t even half as excited to see us as she looked. “Awesome, awesome. Now, you guys are not only presenting today, but you’ve been nominated for Favorite Badass Role Model, and with all that fighting evil you guys do, I bet you’re not surprised.”
“Oh, we were surprised!” Lake said genuinely. “I mean, it’s really an honor to be recognized by people who look up to you—right, girls?”
“Yes! Absolutely! It’s so exciting!” I bobbed my head up and down, my eyes wide-open with that deer-in-headlights look that made me wonder suddenly why I had any fans at all. Belle and Chae Rin already looked over it, but they smiled serenely for the sake of the cameras.
“And, Maia, how’s your training going?”
“Good.” I tried not to make my fidgeting too noticeable. “It’s being put to good use.”
“Yeah? You were just at a fund-raiser over in the UK and now you’ve been whisked off to Canada for the TVCAs—where do you have the time to do any actual battling these days?”
That was a strange jab. The quiver in Lake’s expression told me she thought so too. Was it a trap?
“Well,” Lake said, recuperating, “we’ve just gotten back from a mission outside Glasgow. And we’ve been hard at work doing other stuff that unfortunately the cameras aren’t always privy to. But we’re always happy to come to events like these for the sake of anyone who looks up to us. You know, we want to show girls that anyone can be heroes, and—”
“Wait!” The interviewer was already looking past us. “Is that—is that who I think it is?”
We turned. Four of the biggest, loudest Harley-Davidsons, each painted pure neon pink, drove up to the red carpet like a motorcade. Each driver was muscled and topless as if they’d been dragged out of a bachelorette party in the middle of performing. And behind each man was a member of Britain’s current top girl group, GBD.
Kacey was beside herself. “What an entrance! Cameras, can we get a closer look at those motorcycles?”
Lake looked furious as the crowd went wild and Kacey started calling the girls over. Joanna, Hailey, Misha, and Cara. Their latest brand change had finally taken off when they started this latest “Scandalous” era with their heavy chola makeup, tank tops, high-waisted jeans, high ponytails, and the heavy spray tans concealing their originally pale skin. It was certainly a far cry from the cutesy, teenybopper, kids-next-door image they’d originally been given by their label back when Lake was part of the group. I guess some music exec figured Girls by Day was more fit for made-for-TV movies targeting the middle school market. Well, the rebranding had done wonders. “Scandalous” was now number one on the Billboard Hot 100—a point Kacey would surely bring up when she invited them to join our interview.
“Kacey, hi!” Jo was as tall as Lake, but built like a linebacker. She bumped her broad shoulders into Lake, maybe purposefully, as we all shuffled to make room for one another and yet still catch the camera. Chae Rin and Belle certainly didn’t mind stepping out of the frame. “Oh, Victoria, how are you, love? When’s that single dropping? Any day now?”
Lake’s lips thinned into a straight line, her brown eyes dripping with malice as she laughed cutely enough for the cameras to believe it. She tapped Jo a bit too hard on the shoulder.
“Wow, look at this: ex-groupmates meeting again for the first time in years—are you getting this, guys?” Kacey needn’t have worried; two more cameras swarmed us. “Lake, how does it feel seeing your old group again after so long?”
“I’m shocked, to be quite honest.” Lake tilted her head and made a show of staring at Jo’s outfit. “So much has changed. You’re almost as dark as I am now. Bit too long in the tanning bed, then? Strange, considering how you always used to manage your real skin tone by avoiding the sun.” Lake giggled into her hand. “Like a vampire.”
“Yes, love, I avoided the sun like your singles avoided the charts. But anyway!” Jo said as Lake bristled. “So excited to be here.”
“Yes, I know, so you’ve got several nominations,” Kacey said, and I could see Lake flinching at her emphasis. “And you’re performing ‘Scandalous,’ which has been number one on Billboard for, like, three weeks straight.”
“They’re saying it’s totally going to be the song of the summer!” chimed one short, stalky member, her black hair tied in a huge bun with a blue ribbon. Misha? Maybe Cara. One of them.
“And since you two are finally here, together on the red carpet for the first time in years, Jo, what do you think of your old group member getting nominated for Favorite Badass Role Model?”
Another trap—a barely concealed one. Lake kept her smile plastered o
n her face as she waited for the attack.
Jo’s light brown ponytail swished as she tilted her neck and considered it. “Well,” she said, “personally, I’m just excited for her. And to be honest, I’m a bit surprised, too. I mean, little Vicky being nominated as a role model?” Her “friendly” laughter had a knife-sharp edge to it. “She’s really come a long way from faking injuries and illnesses to get out of fighting as an Effigy. I like to think of her as a little butterfly that finally spread her wings after years of being . . . well, whatever butterflies are first. Worms?” She smiled.
“Lake,” Kacey said, “we all know you had some kind of breakdown in Milan. Is it true you faked all that just to get put on leave?”
The veil fell. Lake looked terrified. Even with all the constant screaming, there were some members of the crowd watching the interview intently. Kacey must have gotten word from her producer through her earpiece, because she suddenly shifted.
“Okay, I see I’ve kept you for too long—well, enjoy the night, ladies! And, GBD, I have a few more questions to ask about your hit single!”
Lake composed herself as we continued down the red carpet, but I could tell from the creeping redness in her eyes that she hadn’t been prepared for that particular attack. Showbiz cattiness was all about the dog whistles and low-key shady remarks. But this was live, and regardless of what the truth was, the idea that Lake had purposefully wrangled herself out of her cosmic duty in favor of embracing what many called a failed celebrity life had now been televised.
“Lake, are you okay?” I held her hand when she stumbled a bit over her high heels—something I’d never seen her do.
“It’s true. So what? My parents didn’t want me to fight,” she said in a low whisper. “They still don’t. They don’t want me to die. What’s so wrong with that? Jo . . . She couldn’t possibly understand.”
I squeezed her hand as we continued down the red carpet through the glaring flashes. Lake tried to recover by taking selfies with fans and signing autographs. I followed suit the best I could.
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