{Phoenix, AZ}

Sagan didn’t like Mercy. The woman had shown no emotion during the tour of their sterile-smelling facilities at Banner Health, a vast hospital system. Her body language came across as stiff and administrative.

The advanced state of their installments unnerved Sagan. The air conditioning blasted so hard, she regretted wearing a light cotton dress with cut-off shorts beneath, showing off her goosebumps. On top of the electricity, the hospital supplied apartments, work-out centers, gun ranges, and established patterns, habits, and schedules. Three-months into the apocalypse, and they’d set the new standard.

Xelan had prepared the Iona installations for decades, and they weren’t this well-organized in part thanks to Frullop’s interference. Judging by the posture of Sagan’s Shadow—tight shoulders, straight backs—she wasn’t the only one feeling suspicious. The absence of children in a place like this grated on her nerves. She wanted to leave, but the CoN mission took priority.

The tour ended full circle at the modern-style lobby of the hospital’s main entrance. For such an open-concept hospital, the lobby suffocated Sagan. The black-painted drop-ceiling rose only a foot over Xelan’s head. They’d pulled the gates down on the information desk and the gift shop, leaving the pale blue entrance without purpose or warmth. It reminded Sagan of J. A. Fair High School.

One of Mercy’s underlings, Guilt, whispered into her ear. Once finished, she nodded and dismissed him with a lingering stare at his backside. “I must apologize. It seems I’m… needed at the festival.”

Kyle muttered barely under his breath, “I’ll bet you are.”

Rayne nudged him before asking, “You’re having a festival? We won’t keep you. The tour was absolutely eye-opening, and we’ve learned so much from your organization here. I appreciated the educational experience.”

Tameka and Xelan peered at her. Even Sagan found Rayne more diplomatic than usual. Rayne turned to leave, and Sagan followed.

Just as the others headed toward the door, Mercy spoke up, “Would you care to join us?” Beside Sagan, Rayne broke into a grin with her back still to the woman who continued, “In these bleak times, people, especially young people, need some distraction. It would honor us if the great General Callahan made an appearance.”

Rayne ditched the grin and spun on the spot. “That sounds like a great morale booster. Are you sure we won’t be too much to accommodate?”

Mercy’s short mousy-brown hair bounced with her as she emphasized every accomplishment with her emphatic hand gestures. “In honor of your deeds—heralding an army, eliminating the Icarean threat in Corpus Christi, and encouraging several Icari to defect to the human cause—we invite you and your company.” The human cause, not their cause. Mercy led them to the double doors beyond the foyer. They opened out into a vast courtyard behind the various hospital buildings with a man-made lake.

Sagan caught her breath at the sight of the starlit sky reflecting from the water like a mirror. The moon rested new and dark in the night. Bonfires illuminated the mass of humans milling around, dancing, and eating. Some even roasted marshmallows on the flames. Loud music played from speakers and amps mounted throughout the grounds. Flyleaf’s I’m So Sick. Even with the happy activities, the tension in the air tingled on her arms.

Sagan wrinkled her nose at the lack of diversity, both of color and of sexual orientation. Everyone wore khaki shorts. The guys wore no shirts, and the girls wore matching white polos like camp counselors. The bland people stayed tight to their own kind as the Shadow joined the soiree.

Mercy excused herself, “I have to tend to my duties. Make yourselves at home and enjoy the festival.” She disappeared in a throng near the lake.

Kyle muttered, “Finally.”

Xelan and Colton grunted their agreement.

Rayne nodded. “Everyone knows what to do?”

Cypher and Colton both stood at attention with a nod.

Kyle and Lucas shared a look and answered simultaneously, “Yeah,” “Yes.”

Xelan and Tameka locked arms and nodded.

Sagan walked over to Rayne’s side and patted her dead shoulder.

Rayne ordered, “Let’s split up and get this over with. Remember, don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Unless you’re an Icarus,” Lucas added with a grin.

Kyle frowned at him. “You taste it, and I’ll drink it after you.” They paired off and walked away toward the buffet.

The last comment overheard from Lucas was, “I’m not a poison tester.”

Xelan gave each of the remaining members some eye contact and lingered a long time on Rayne. He said, “Everyone be careful.”

“We’ll see you in thirty minutes, Rayne,” Tameka added. She tugged Xelan by the arm, pulling him in the lake’s direction.

Colton and Cypher headed alongside the hospital without a word.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“These operations always make me itchy,” Rayne complained beside Sagan.

Sagan held out her arm for the escort. “M’lady.”

Rayne gave her a coaxing smile. “You’re such a tease.” She still looped her arm through, to Sagan’s delight.

As they made their way into the crowd, Sagan measured the countenance of the surrounding people. Frowns, glares, and whispers. Was this not a happy event?

Someone close by said, “I heard she tore an Icarus’ head clean off.”

Another claimed, “She sacrifices people to her pet Icari.”

And then the lamest one, “Dyke.”

Sagan rolled her eyes, and Rayne said, “Wow. I haven’t heard that one since March.” She seemed otherwise unphased. A radiant smile was planted on her lips, and her eyes shone, almost glowing in the dark.

In the last three months, Rayne was a force to be reckoned with. Before Invasion Day, she had always itched for a fight. It had showed in the tight lines of her face and the unrelenting control of her posture, never relaxing. Recently, she exuded confidence in her fighting ability without the need to prove herself. She simply was a badass, and she knew it. They entered this crowd of people with Rayne positive she and Sagan could take them, hands down. Her confidence drew Sagan further in.

Rayne stopped and leaned into Sagan’s ear. “I like when you stare at me,” she whispered. Then she kissed Sagan’s neck.

Sagan’s pulse hammered against the walls of her blood vessels.

Someone nearby scoffed.

Rayne giggled.

“Shadow Progeny, this is Alpha Three and Wingmaster. We think we found something. Over,” Tameka said through their earpieces.

Rayne perked up. She adjusted a ribbon in one of her braids to cover the communication. “Alpha Three, this is Alpha One. Proceed. Over.”

Xelan’s voice came next, “Shadow Progeny, this is Wingmaster.” Sagan snickered. Who else could it be? “We could use a distraction. Over.”

That was all the excuse Sagan needed. Into the earpiece, she said, “Alpha Two to Wingmaster. Affirmative. Over and Out.” The music rolled over from the Ying Yang Twins to Ciara’s Oh. She pulled Rayne by the arm into the dance space. “C’mon.”

Rayne followed without hesitation, and her smile evolved from covert mask to genuine happiness. The crowd parted for them until they reached the center of the mass. Bodies writhed around them.

On the outside, Sagan gave a friendly, happy persona. On the inside, she judged their terrible dance moves with harsh words and a shake of the head. Pathetic.

The two girls danced a while. Sagan pressed more risque moves with their hands on each other—hips, ribs, hair, and so on. They garnered attention, quickly. Most of it jeers and nasty comments. When they faced one another, Rayne pulled the dress strap on Sagan’s shoulder aside and kissed her shoulder.

Gasps and growls followed. There was even one heckle.

Xelan came across the earpiece. “Alpha Two, this is Wingmaster. Whatever you did worked. Proceeding. Over.”

As Rayne’s lips traveled kisses from Sagan’s shoulder along the sensitive skin of her neck, the blond girl’s breath hitched and her concentration on the rhythm suffered. She pressed the mic and said, “Wingmaster, this is Alpha Two. C-copy. Over and Out.”

A very male chuckle carried into the channel.

Kyle.

Sagan peered around the crowd, catching sight of him. He toasted a drink toward her. She shook her head. He and Lucas had evidentially separated. Sagan asked, “Didn’t he learn from last time?”

Rayne purred against Sagan’s hair as the song changed to Lil Kim. “We always rescue him. How does that incentivize him to learn?”

Thinking back on the dive Rayne took off that building, Sagan said, “You’re one to talk.”

Rayne stopped her nibbles and kisses, disappointing Sagan, but dammit they needed to talk about this. Rayne said, “Are we having this fight again? Here? Now?”

Sagan winced. “You’re right. It’s not the best time. But I worry because I love you.”

At that moment, Sagan noticed someone through the break of the crowd over Rayne’s shoulder. He sat, lounging at a food stand. His silver eyes watched her across the distance. She stopped, cold.

“I promise we can talk about it later, but for now our job here is done. I’m checking vantage points next,” Rayne said as she stepped back. “Sagan?”

The man smirked as the crowd interrupted Sagan’s view of him, and Rayne’s voice snapped her back to attention. Sagan got out, “S-sorry. I need to find the ladies’ room. I’ll catch you on the channel.”

Rayne peered at her longer than Sagan liked. Please don’t press. She needed to know if he was real or not.

After another heartbeat, Rayne smiled. “All right, badass Lt. General. If you get into trouble, call us. Or scream. I’ll level the entire operation to get to you.”

Sagan beamed at her while the guilty knife twisted in her heart. “I know you will.”

Rayne vanished into the crowd first, her eyes searching the people. She still counted things. Sagan knew it for certain. While their leader ditched most of her other unhealthy habits the counting had never died. Sometimes it lent itself to a tactical advantage, like now. But how much help was counting ceiling tiles in the foyer?

When Sagan no longer saw Rayne for the crowd, she allowed herself to part through the opposite direction to her hallucination, waiting at the food stand. Everything slowed down for her like a dream. He sat there, patient and determined. His expression admiring, a little impressed even. His long white hair flowed down, with no ornamentation or fancy styling. Loud, obvious, intentional. Volume up to the sky, but simple. It blended with his eyes into a mirror effect, drawing out the dark flecks even more.

As Sagan drew closer, her pulse swam in her throat.

He wore a black ripped tee. His pale skin peeked through, enticing her. Pristine white jeans really popped bringing the look together, and she wanted to both praise and murder his stylist.

Danger never looked so good.

Korac kept his eyes on her as Sagan walked, and she tried to ignore the complementary angular features of his masculine face. As usual, she felt hazy around him. She never knew if his appearances were real, a dream state, or a hallucination.

Fuck it.

Sagan approached Korac at the corner of the bar, gazing into his eyes. He turned, following her movements. When she stood close enough to count the pale lashes of his eyes, he reached a hand out to her face.

At the sound of Korac’s voice, Sagan’s eyes fluttered closed. He said, “The way you move when you dance…” She opened her eyes when he stopped.

Raw. Hunger.

Like an animal at feeding time, Korac wanted to devour Sagan. His eyes grew dark, and he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Slow.

With little breath left in her and swaying from the blood rush, Sagan asked, “Are you real or another hallucination?”

Korac’s face transformed. He frowned with his brows down hard, and his lips drawn into a tight line. He opened his mouth to answer her, when she leaned down into the hand still waiting to cradle her cheek. It flickered, shimmering blue. Not solid. Her body stiffened as her eyes hardened. The song changed to Marilyn Manson’s cover of Tainted Love.

“You’re not a hallucination,” Sagan said as she backed away. Her heart skipped a few beats.

Korac’s frown deepened, if that were possible. He watched her go without intervening or saying another word.

Into the earpiece, Sagan sounded the alarm. “This is Alpha Two. Emergency extraction! Alpha One is in danger. Repeat, Rayne is in danger.” She ran through the crowd in the direction she last saw Rayne.

Korac made no attempt to pursue her. He’d been the perfect distraction.

Sagan hoped her selfishness didn’t get Rayne hurt. Or worse.