Legacy(96)

“You make it sound a little like a Who’s Who list.”

“Maybe it is,” she said. “Anyone who doesn’t make the list is definitely not getting an invite to the world’s most exclusive party, where the door prize is survival.”

“What are they going to do after that?” I asked, watching her carefully.

She walked to a nearby wall and leaned against the corner, her hair still stringing behind her, binding Old Man Winter, who stood, stoic and silent, watching us talk. “Take over the world? Give each other facials and perms?” She gestured to her long knot of hair. “Which, in my case, would be an expensive proposition. Hell if I know.” She looked to Winter. “What about you? Do you know?”

“I know it is nothing good,” Winter said in his low, slow timbre. “One does not start a plan by wiping out all of metakind and end with something benevolent, such as a benefit to raise money for the American Red Cross.”

Hildegarde looked at him before giving him a concessionary nod. “The old man’s got a point. For those who aren’t on the bus for the select few, it’s not looking so grand.”

I looked over at her. “You keep mentioning the select few. Any idea how they were chosen?”

She tapped her fingers against her leg. “No idea.”

I watched her, sussing it out. She set her jaw, and I looked over at her compatriot. He was big, almost swollen. “You must be a Hercules,” I said, and he nodded. “My grandfather was one.”

“Interesting bit of family history,” Hildegarde said. “He still alive?”

“No,” I said with a slight smile. “Omega killed him.”

“Oh,” she said, and things just felt awkward. “Uh, gosh. That’s, uh ...”

I shrugged lightly. “It was a long time ago and across an ocean, plus I didn’t know him, so ...” I looked at Hildegarde again. “So how do you want to do this?”

She froze, and I got the sense that her head was spinning as she was looking for a response. “Do what?” The pitch of her voice was off, was wrong somehow, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on how.

I didn’t get a chance to ask my next question, either, because a hand reached out from behind the wall and grabbed her head, slamming it into the concrete block. Hildegarde dropped to the ground as someone stepped out from behind the wall, a shadowy figure that glared coldly down at her before looking up at me and giving me a slight nod.

I recognized him even though it had been months since I’d last seen him; his short brown hair framing his young features. He was missing his glasses, though. When last I’d seen him he was wearing ridiculously oversized glasses, like the biggest nerd on the planet. They were gone now, and he looked young, handsome. He took a deep breath as he watched me through his brown eyes and then sighed. “Hey, Sienna. Did you know that she was betraying you to Century?”

“I was starting to get that feeling, yes,” I said, letting my eyes scan between him, Winter, and Hildegarde’s goon, who was standing almost stunned, unsure of what to do. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I think I already know.”

“You always were a clever one,” he replied. “And, hey, I told you last time we met I’d see you again.”

“I vaguely recall that,” I said to Joshua Harding, “but I kind of figured that Century killing you would have put the kibosh on that.”

“Century didn’t kill me,” Joshua replied, that enigmatic little smile on his face. “Do you know why?”

“Of course,” I said tightly, feeling every muscle in my body tense as I looked at him. “Because you’re Sovereign.”





Chapter 41




“The kids—your friends—were sure you were dead,” I said, looking uneasily at him. Winter was to my right, still tangled in the solid weave of Hildegarde’s hair, though he looked like he was very nearly shivering, as though the warm summer air was chilling him. Hildegarde’s last remaining flunky was just past him, still looking stunned.

“I let ’em think it,” he said. I looked at him very carefully. He was the same kid, but now I was seeing him differently. Suddenly his boundless confidence didn’t seem so out of place, and he didn’t really look fifteen or twelve or whatever anymore. He didn’t look old, but there was wisdom in his eyes that I could discern even in the dark. “Hey, I saved their lives from the squad Century sent out. Does that earn me any points in your book?”

“Very few,” I said, letting my weight shift back and forth between my legs, ready to spring. “Since you’re also in charge of the organization that’s killing all of our kind.”