She drops her hand to my shoulder and a fierce expression crosses her face. “No. We can’t let them do that. We need all ofit if we want to survive what’s coming.” She squeezes harder. “If we don’t stop them now, they’ll just keep coming back, Luna.”
I groan, knowing she’s right. My heart pounds so hard I can barely hear my own voice.
“Fine. You’re probably right. But I’m coming with you, not hiding in a closet.”
She studies my face for a moment and then nods before pulling me hard against her in a bruising hug. When she pulls back, she places her finger in front of her lips, signaling me to be as quiet as possible. I close the door of my room to keep Penny in, terrified she’ll get hurt if I let her loose. She’s not exactly a vicious guard dog. At best, she would gladly whack whoever’s broken in with her fluffy tail as she waits for them to pet her.
We move like shadows through the darkened house. The sound of footsteps and low whispers leads us down the stairs to the kitchen. I have to wipe the clammy sweat from my hands on my pajama pants to make sure my grip on the shotgun stays firm as we hesitate just outside the door. I swallow hard and suck in a deep breath, adrenaline flooding my system as we silently step through into the room.
There are two figures stuffing mylar bags and mason jars from the counter into a duffle bag that sits on the floor between them. One of them is unmistakable and a wave of cold anger rushes into me. It’s Mr. Tanner, our nosy neighbor from two doors down. The other guy’s taller, thinner, and I think he’s the guy that lives across the street further down. He’s holding a crowbar in one hand.
"Told you she was hoarding a bunch of food," Mr. Tanner sneers, rifling through our cupboards.
"We’re just gonna borrow some," the other mutters, though the crowbar tells a different story.
I’m so sick of all these horrible things happening that are out of my control that something comes over me, a flare of coldwhite rage thrums through me as I lift the shotgun towards them.
"Stop," I yell, louder than I intend. My voice is hard as ice, and I’m more than a little shocked it came out so strong and steady, considering just how scared I am right now.
They turn, surprised at first, but in less than a second, their looks turn ugly. Mr. Tanner lifts a hand with a pointed finger our way like he’s about to launch into a stern lecture. The other guy raises his crowbar and takes a step toward us. Gigi doesn’t even hesitate.
She snaps off a shot with her derringer, the suddenness of it causing a squeak of surprise to fly from my lips. The tall man screams, drops to a knee, clutching his thigh as blood spreads in a circle on his jeans, the crowbar clattering to the floor beside him. Mr. Tanner yelps but then lunges toward me with an ugly, rage-filled look.
I try to squeeze the trigger of the shotgun but I can’t bring myself to shoot him. My hands are frozen in place even as my mind screams, 'Shoot!' But something else takes over.
A surge of cold fire explodes from me. Silver-white light flares in a sudden burst. It hits Mr. Tanner square in the face, sizzling across his cheek. He howls, staggering back. I finally unfreeze and instead of pulling the trigger, I swing the shotgun like a baseball bat and slam the stock into his shoulder. He crashes back into the counter, gasping.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" I rage scream at them.
The man Gigi shot tries to scramble up on his wounded leg. Mr. Tanner grabs him and together they stumble to the front door and fumble to open it. Gigi is hot on their heels as she threatens them.
“If you two idiots even think of looking at this house again, you won’t be walking anywhere ever again. I swear on all that’s holy, I’ll take you to meet the devil personally!”
They practically fall outside as the door gets pulled open in their fear of my little spitfire of a grandmother. Gigi slams and locks it behind them. She places a shaking hand on the door and just leans against it with her head down and her chest heaving for a few moments before sucking in a ragged breath and turning to me. When she opens her arms to me, I drop the shotgun and rush into them and then we collapse. I fall to my knees and Gigi follows me down, arms around me, her breath coming fast.
"They’re going to keep coming, aren’t they?" I whisper in a voice that feels raw.
She presses a kiss to my temple, her voice fierce. "Then we keep fighting. We hold this fucking line, Luna. We fight until the boys get home.”
She leans away and cups my face so I see it when her expression changes. Her hand reaches up and smooths my hair back with a look of concern. I try to hold back the panic as I push to my feet and run over to the hall mirror, already sure of what I will see. All I can do is stare at the new silvery white streak that’s appeared. My eyes look haunted as they fill with a sheen of tears.
“What is happening to me?”
Gigi comes and wraps her arms around me from behind. “Gigi, something’s happening to me! That bright light…I think that was me. I think I did that.”
She shakes her head, unable to find any words of comfort or explanation. Every inch of me just wants to go back, back to when all the guys were here and I was starting to feel like I was getting a handle on living this life. Tears spill down my cheeks. Not just from fear, but fury also. Helpless, aching fury at the not-knowing if they will make it back. The not-knowing if we’ll still be here if they do.
"I want them back," I sob.
I want Reid’s sweetness. Jules’s arrogance. Torrin’s certainty and Gage’s steadiness. My family, I want all of themback. I can’t lose another family. I won’t survive that. I wouldn’t want to. I can already feel myself slipping back into the darkness they all pulled me out of and I don’t think I’ll be able to swim free of it again.
Gigi rocks us slowly. "They’ll come home, baby. They will."
But will they? And when or if they do, what will be left of me? Because this girl… the one who’s glowing with a power she doesn’t understand, who just hit her neighbor with a gun… this girl isn’t the girl they left behind.
Chapter 52 - Mars
Smoke stretches like claw marks across the morning sky, black lines cutting across the surface of the huge, broken moon that hangs above the city of Regina. I stand on the edge of the apartment building’s roof, staring out at the wreckage below. Somewhere out there, multiple car alarms blare. Screams echo like they’re bouncing off the buildings. The whole city feels like it’s being held underwater, drowning and thrashing for air.
