“What in Chronos’s name is that?”
“It’s a cat.”
“No shit! What the hell is it doing here?”
The temperature in the room skyrockets as Julio gets up in my face. His bitter breath smells like coffee and grapefruit and his T-shirt reeks. “Fleur said we could each bring one bag of things we can’t live without. This,” he says, pointing to the cat, “is Slinky. He’s the one thing Marie can’t live without, and I’m not leaving him. Now are we doing this or not?”
“Great. I guess we’re doing this.” I sling my backpack to Chill, mentally preparing myself to break out of a magical bunker with two comatose girls and a guitar in a very large litter box. Julio hefts the lid back on the crate and levers the dolly off the floor, rolling it behind me.
I pause to stare down the cold, white hallway, slightly dizzy as my stomach falls away. It’s like I’m standing on the precipice of a downhill slope with switchback turns I can’t see around, ice looming everywhere. I take one last look at our room. Then at Chill, hoping it’s not the last time I see him, too.
“You’ve got this,” he says. It’s the same thing he’s said to me at the beginning of every winter, before every hunt, as long as we’ve known each other.
Julio rolls the dolly into my ankles, bumping me into the hall. And with that, I set off to do the second-most stupid thing I’ve ever done in all my lives.
18
Summers
JACK
Julio stands sentry, shielding me from the camera’s eye as I kneel in front of Fleur’s door and slide a pick into the keyhole. The door flies open, and I fall over the threshold, landing on someone’s feet. Poppy grabs me by the collar and drags me inside, swinging the door open for Julio and the dolly.
“Took you long enough.” She shoves an envelope at me. “My participation is entirely compulsory, just so we’re clear.”
It’s stamped from Washington, DC, two months ago—two months after I left Fleur on the construction site. The letter inside smells faintly of lilies.
Poppy,
My time is up. It may seem like we have no choices left, but maybe we do. When the Summers come for me in August, know that I want this. For both of us. If you won’t trust anyone else, then trustme. Consider this my last dying wish of you.
Your friend—always,
Fleur
I don’t say anything to Poppy. I’m afraid anything I try to say will ruin it. She’s let us into their room, and two backpacks wait beside the door.
Julio drops to his knees beside Fleur’s stasis chamber, searching for the emergency release latch. “Call Chill. Let him know we’re ready to take her offline.”
“Wait!” I grab Poppy’s elbow. Through the glass, Fleur’s face is peaceful. Her eyes move under their lids as if watching her dreams play out inside them. Her pulse is steady on the monitor, her skin warm. All that will change the minute we open the chamber.
“She’ll be okay,” Poppy says, gently prying my hand from her arm. “I’m sure of it. She’s been incubating long enough. Julio sent her home early, which I’m guessing was part of the plan.” She throws him a glare. “She’ll be tired and cranky, but her vitals are good.”
The locks slide open. Warm, humid air rushes from the broken seal, carrying Fleur’s scent with it. Instinct pushes me a step back from her chamber. Julio inches closer as Poppy wedges open the lid and a flash of Fleur’s skin—shoulder to hip, thigh to toe—reveals itself. Suddenly, an instinct I’ve never felt before grabs me by the throat. I seize Julio by the collar of his smock and spin him around so our backs face the chamber. He’s no lightweight, and the effort makes me dizzy.
Poppy grunts, fabric rustling as she struggles to dress Fleur. Julio’s knuckles crack. He checks his watch and peeks over his shoulder.
“We don’t have much time. I could help her, you know.”
“If you so much as lay a hand on her, I’ll freeze your balls off in your sleep.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Jealous much?”
“Just wary of your base instincts.”
“A little help here?” Poppy groans as she hefts Fleur’s torso from the bed. I reach her first, wrapping one arm around Fleur’s waist. She flops against me, her head lolling against my chest, the curves of her body soft and warm in a pair of leggings and a fleece sweatshirt. For a moment I’m paralyzed by it. By the weight of her life in my arms. It’s taking all my strength just to hold her upright. I don’t have the energy to lift her.
“Let me do it.” Julio reaches for her, waiting for me to pull away before looping an arm under her knees. He lowers her gently into the crate beside Marie, pressing a chaste kiss against Fleur’s forehead and holding it there.
