infirmary he’d woken in after his first explosion, and empty. A wall of cabinets hung to his right, each door shut and locked. Temperature-controlled air seeped in through the ceiling, pristine and cool.
He struggled against the restraints. No use. He was trapped.
His mind rocketed back to the slum lands of Providence—Avery Wicksen’s cold, emotionless face staring back at him as she injected the fluid into his neck. If he was truly in the Lodge now, they’d have traveled thousands of miles past the border and into New York State. He’d been unconscious the entire time, unable to remember any of it. Helpless for hours. They could have done anything to him.
He nearly lost it for a moment. It was the smell, mostly. He knew all of the officials at the Lodge on a first-name basis. He’d had friends here. Not real ones, but acquaintances nonetheless. Had they watched him being carried in? The murderer who had double-crossed their leader and left her for dead? If Cassius had been in their position five months ago, he would’ve wanted revenge. They’d be right to hate him.
His breathing quickened. He forced himself to calm down. Panicking would cloud his mind.
The door handle turned.
He tensed as he watched the single door crack open. A shadow fell across the wall.
Then Madame entered.
His heart sunk. He blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. His expression lost all composure. She’d be happy to see that, he knew.
Madame. Alive. Walking.
“No,” he started. “No, I saw you … ” He trailed off. Words couldn’t express it.
She stepped into the room with the same authoritative ease she’d possessed when he’d last lived at the Lodge, when he’d still considered himself her son. Her dark hair was tied back, not a single strand out of place. She wore a custom-fitted business suit. The sleeves of her white blouse spilled over her wrists. The familiar pair of delicate spectacles rested over her cold eyes. Below that, a scar ran down her left cheek until it met with the folds of her smile. But she wasn’t smiling.
“Cassius.” She shut the door behind her. He bristled at the sound of her voice. “Welcome home.”
“No.” It was the only sound he could make.
He watched her approach. He didn’t dare speak for fear of what she would do. He’d seen her handle enemies before. Mercilessly. He’d watched her lock away Skyshippers without food until they were skin and bones, until she had drained everything she needed from them.
She shifted toward the cabinets, leaning her shoulder against the wood. “You’d have never seen this wing. Experimental. One needs the proper clearance to gain access. You were nearly there. Another three weeks, maybe, and I’d have let you take a peek.”
She crossed her arms. Cassius scanned her hands for weapons. They were empty.
“Tell me about your vacation.” She gave a cold smile. “I’ve heard the Polar Cities are particularly nice this time of yea r.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.” He choked out the words.
“Am I?”
He glared at her, unable to speak. It was like talking to a ghost. How could she have been so strong? And that scar …
She followed his gaze. “Admiring my little souvenir?” She ran her finger against her cheek. “The doctors offered to sew me up completely, but I asked them to leave a little something. I’ve grown too vain, anyway. It’s a sort of gift. Your gift to me, Cassius.”
She took a deep breath and approached him, her eyes latching onto his. “Oh, don’t be so serious.” She leaned her hand against the wall, inches from Cassius’s face. “It’s good you escaped for a little while. A boy your age… what kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t let you go off and find yourself?”
“You’re not my—” The words hurt as they came out. He couldn’t finish the statement.
“Shh.” She held a finger to his mouth. “Don’t strain yourself. You’ve had a very long day.” She turned on her
He struggled against the restraints. No use. He was trapped.
His mind rocketed back to the slum lands of Providence—Avery Wicksen’s cold, emotionless face staring back at him as she injected the fluid into his neck. If he was truly in the Lodge now, they’d have traveled thousands of miles past the border and into New York State. He’d been unconscious the entire time, unable to remember any of it. Helpless for hours. They could have done anything to him.
He nearly lost it for a moment. It was the smell, mostly. He knew all of the officials at the Lodge on a first-name basis. He’d had friends here. Not real ones, but acquaintances nonetheless. Had they watched him being carried in? The murderer who had double-crossed their leader and left her for dead? If Cassius had been in their position five months ago, he would’ve wanted revenge. They’d be right to hate him.
His breathing quickened. He forced himself to calm down. Panicking would cloud his mind.
The door handle turned.
He tensed as he watched the single door crack open. A shadow fell across the wall.
Then Madame entered.
His heart sunk. He blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. His expression lost all composure. She’d be happy to see that, he knew.
Madame. Alive. Walking.
“No,” he started. “No, I saw you … ” He trailed off. Words couldn’t express it.
She stepped into the room with the same authoritative ease she’d possessed when he’d last lived at the Lodge, when he’d still considered himself her son. Her dark hair was tied back, not a single strand out of place. She wore a custom-fitted business suit. The sleeves of her white blouse spilled over her wrists. The familiar pair of delicate spectacles rested over her cold eyes. Below that, a scar ran down her left cheek until it met with the folds of her smile. But she wasn’t smiling.
“Cassius.” She shut the door behind her. He bristled at the sound of her voice. “Welcome home.”
“No.” It was the only sound he could make.
He watched her approach. He didn’t dare speak for fear of what she would do. He’d seen her handle enemies before. Mercilessly. He’d watched her lock away Skyshippers without food until they were skin and bones, until she had drained everything she needed from them.
She shifted toward the cabinets, leaning her shoulder against the wood. “You’d have never seen this wing. Experimental. One needs the proper clearance to gain access. You were nearly there. Another three weeks, maybe, and I’d have let you take a peek.”
She crossed her arms. Cassius scanned her hands for weapons. They were empty.
“Tell me about your vacation.” She gave a cold smile. “I’ve heard the Polar Cities are particularly nice this time of yea r.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.” He choked out the words.
“Am I?”
He glared at her, unable to speak. It was like talking to a ghost. How could she have been so strong? And that scar …
She followed his gaze. “Admiring my little souvenir?” She ran her finger against her cheek. “The doctors offered to sew me up completely, but I asked them to leave a little something. I’ve grown too vain, anyway. It’s a sort of gift. Your gift to me, Cassius.”
She took a deep breath and approached him, her eyes latching onto his. “Oh, don’t be so serious.” She leaned her hand against the wall, inches from Cassius’s face. “It’s good you escaped for a little while. A boy your age… what kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t let you go off and find yourself?”
“You’re not my—” The words hurt as they came out. He couldn’t finish the statement.
“Shh.” She held a finger to his mouth. “Don’t strain yourself. You’ve had a very long day.” She turned on her
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