Phantom's Mask

By Sara A. Noë

Cato and his lab-family had a difficult choice to make—stay in Phantom Heights as mercenaries to protect the very humans who betrayed him once before, or cross the Rip into Avilésor where Azar lurks in his dark fortress. Neither Realm is safe, and no matter where they go, they’ll be fugitives.

Cato thought he was ready t

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara A. Noe
• Release date: Jul 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781732599871

Book preview

Voices.

I followed them under an eerie green sky.

The owners of the voices didn’t suspect I was tailing them. Ghosts were usually able to sense each other when they came into range, but I was special; I could shut off my power to become undetectable. Although I despised the vulnerability of being powerless, I had to admit it was a useful trick, especially when ghosts were the dominant population. Easier to hide. And when you’re the prey, being able to hide is critical.

What a terrifying feeling, being hunted. Even more chilling was the knowledge that safety was an illusion. There was no safe place—not anywhere in this world or the other. I supposed Azar’s fugitives fleeing the Ghost Realm must be able to relate to this experience, knowing that ghost hunters would be after them the moment they stepped foot through a Tear. But for me, who’d spent so much of my life as a free human who had never known what it truly meant to be in danger, it was still a relatively new experience.

The three ghosts I was following were dressed in red-trimmed black from their boots to their cloaks, pristine uniforms I’d come to recognize as those of the Shadow Guard. I’d been creeping closer and closer, and now their words were finally in range to hear.

. . . decided yet what you’ll do with the reward? a man was asking.

What reward? a woman replied. The captain didn’t say anything about a reward.

Are you kidding? When is the last time Azar put Captain Hassing in charge of a mission instead of Lieutenant Cisco? He jumped chain of command. I’m telling you, whoever brings him an Alpha is sure to get an immediate promotion.

Suddenly conscious of the blatant white Alpha symbol imprinted on the chest of my black shirt, I pulled the edge of my cloak to conceal it, just in case they happened to turn around and spot me.

The hefty guy on the end heaved his shoulders up and down in a shrug. I don’t see what’s so valuable about these lab rats. Seems like a lot of fuss over some wretches.

Hey, the first guy said. Rule number one: don’t question orders. Rule number two: if Azar wants something, you know damn well it’s valuable. And rule number three: if there’s anything of value to Azar, it’s in your best interest to be the one who finds it for him.

I was so engrossed in their conversation that I wasn’t careful enough with the placement of my foot, which found an empty can. I cursed to myself and pressed my body into the corner of an alcove, doing my best to blend into the deep shadows. The Shadow Guards froze. You hear that? The woman’s voice was hushed.

Yeah, said the guy on her left. His glowing red eyes scanned the shadows. But I didn’t sense anybody. Did you?

No, she replied. The third shook his head.

I held my breath. If I contorted my body any more into the corner, I was convinced I’d mold into the space as if I were made of rubber. I could have reawakened my power to become invisible, but I knew I was in their sensing range. The second I let my power flow, the Shadow Guards would know.

I didn’t move. There was no electricity here—no streetlights to cast pools of light, no vehicles with headlights. In the dark, I was in Azar’s domain.

Finally, the Guards turned away and resumed their patrol. I emptied my lungs in one slow release. Note to self: avoid being a klutz when you’re trying to not get yourself captured.

The Shadow Guards took a left turn at the next intersection, and I slumped against the brick wall in relief.

A small, furry creature landed on my shoulder from the window above.

Claws pricked my skin through my cloak, and I barely managed to avoid screaming and flinging the black-and-white kitten across the street. I pressed my hand over my racing heart and whispered, Bloody Scout, Kit, you just scared me half to death.

She flicked her rough tongue across my cheek and nuzzled me, her whiskers tickling my skin, then hopped down and scampered after the Shadow Guards. Instead of turning left in pursuit, she went right. I followed, hesitating at the intersection to look for the Guards. They must have turned another corner, because the road was deserted.

Kit and I both paused and turned our faces skyward when lightning flickered in the green clouds. A low rumble splintered the air in its wake. Kit’s ears fell, tail drooping. I walked past her, jolting her attention; she trotted after me. I knelt beneath a broken window, and Kit sat down on her haunches facing me. All clear? I whispered.

Her ears swiveled to listen in all directions. She crouched and jumped up onto the windowsill, then leapt into the dim interior and out of sight. That was a good enough answer for me, and I followed her into the building.

The office appeared to be deserted, but the trail of footprints in the dust told me otherwise. I closed my eyes and concentrated on finding my center. To turn my power off, I had to push the warm spark deep inside myself and seal it away, unfortunately a similar sensation to what the neutralizer did. The difference was that I could reactivate it whenever I wished now that I was free from my shackle.

Once I broke the floodgates, the tingle awakened my blood. I didn’t need a mirror to know that when I opened my eyes again, the right one would be glowing blue, the left green. The hot and cold currents of my dual Divinities circulated throughout my core.

Immediately, I shivered. It was a distinct feeling—a cold, sliding sensation along my spine. It happened only when another ghost entered my range. Or, in this case, when I entered the ranges of five other ghosts.

I strode past the dented filing cabinet, the bare desk, and the chair with a broken wheel. In the doorway, I hesitated.

Shapes were moving in the dark. I could identify the silhouettes of my lab-siblings by the color of their glowing eyes. RC was nearest to me; only one of his violet eyes was aglow. Ash—her smoldering ruby eyes so different from Axel’s chilling ones—was kneeling, and I caught the briefest glimpse of light reflected off a cat’s eye below her. Two pairs of cobalt eyes observed from the corner. Seeing Finn and Reese alert and sitting up by their own strength was always a relief. One of the twins coughed, the sound echoing in the cavernous room we called Home.

Jay’s silver eyes locked onto me. Cato, he greeted. Where’s Axel?

I thought he was with you. My spine tingled again, making me shiver.

Here. A new pair of crimson eyes had appeared out of nowhere.

Jay nodded in acknowledgment of Axel’s appearance. Is everybody ready? he asked.

I looked at Ash and RC, waiting for them to answer. Yes or no. I’d like to know somebody else’s opinion, because I was still hopelessly conflicted about our decision. When they didn’t respond, all I could think to blurt was, Question. Their heads all turned to stare at me in the dark. Are . . . we sure about this?

We already decided, said Jay. No going back now.

Ash’s form reached over her shoulder and pulled a long metal staff from her harness. RC drew his hand out of his pocket, and from the gaping holes in the ceiling, the green glow of the clouds reflected off the metal in his hand. I wasn’t ready to summon my weapons quite yet.

The room was suddenly bathed in bright light. I saw, just for an instant, my lab-family. Finn and Reese sitting on a nest of blankets, the backwards hat over Finn’s mess of chestnut hair the only way to tell the identical twins apart. Axel leaning against the wall, his clairvoyant eyes peering through locks of his untamed coal-black hair. Kit, still in her fur, sitting next to Ash’s boot with her tail curled over her white paws. Ash clutching her staff, a silver band glinting on her upper arm, her ports visible in a line across her forehead. RC’s milky blind eye marred by a pink scar, the right sleeve missing from his shirt to expose the gauze winding around his arm. Jay’s ashen gray hair swept to one side, the silver whistle around his neck.

I had less than a second to imprint these images. Then, just as quickly as the light had come, we were lost in darkness again, only silhouettes with glowing eyes in the reverberations of a clap of thunder that made the depths of my bones vibrate.

Lightning illuminated Phantom Heights in a brief washout of white.

Holly Jennings stood in the corner on the terraced stage inside City Hall, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The people around her were phantoms of their former selves. After all of her diligent work to protect them, this was what they had become—homeless refugees battling illness and infection, trapped like rats inside City Hall, surviving on intermittent supply drops from the military and meager yields from raids on the town. The entoplasm dome surrounding the building affected ghosts, not humans, and yet, it felt like a prison, casting its cold green light on the gaunt faces of its skeletal inhabitants.

Holly glared sidelong at the ghost hunter standing by the boarded window. This was all Madison Tarrow’s fault. The people hailed her as a leader now; how quickly they’d forgotten that she was the one who had allowed this catastrophe to happen. Madison had let her personal loss lead to more—more families broken, more people kidnapped, more children buried or orphaned. And she’d almost repeated history by negotiating with the Alpha fugitives when they had abducted her daughter.

Holly shook her head. That was a bad deal, but no one would listen to her. Wesly Cooper had entranced the survivors with wild promises of hiring mercenaries to restore their town and their freedom. He was too cunning for his own good, and his audience had been far too desperate to know any better.

Holly flinched at a sudden crack of thunder that set her teeth on edge. Her gaze wandered to the nearest boarded window leaking eerie pale light through the cracks. The entoplasm shield tinted the nighttime clouds green, the low cloud cover broken only by the bright streaks of lightning that turned the sky into a brief puzzle. Was Cato out there shivering like a wretch in this miserable night? Or was he still safely secured underground at the AGC under Agent Kovak’s watch?

Pain.

Holly registered it the instant her teeth pulled away too much fingernail, ripping it to the quick. She hadn’t even realized what she was doing. Her tongue tasted copper as she ran it along the jagged edge.

Damn them, Madison seethed, peering through the gaps between boards at the storm. I told you they’d do this, Wes.

Holly’s gaze flicked to the werewolf, who crossed his arms with indignation. Just because we haven’t seen or heard from the Alpha ghosts in a week doesn’t mean they backed out of the deal, he defended halfheartedly. Despite the grim circumstances, Holly had to admit that she relished seeing Cooper’s usual overconfidence reduced to an almost humble demeanor, at least for the time being.

Madison gestured toward the boarded window. "Nothing has changed! If they’re still out there, which I doubt, then they sure as hell aren’t doing anything, because there are just as many ghosts, if not more, than there were a week ago!"

The supplies we’ve been leaving outside the shield are gone every day.

So? Madison retorted. It could be anyone out there stealing our limited supply. My bet is the Alpha ghosts fled into the Ghost Realm the second they had an opening.

Holly bowed her head and watched a red bead swell from the thin line at the edge of her torn fingernail. The Ghost Realm. It was hell for humans. If, against all odds, Cato had managed to escape from the AGC and was now hiding in the Ghost Realm . . . He’d be fine, she assured herself despite her churning stomach. The Ghost Realm was where he belonged now. He was probably safer there beyond Agent Kovak’s reach, and Holly didn’t have to worry anymore. Everything had worked out better than she could have hoped.

And yet, her chest seemed to tighten around her aching heart. Her throat clenched, as if her body was preparing to cry even as she mentally reminded herself that she should be celebrating this victory.

Why doesn’t it feel like a victory?

Thunder crashed, and the building trembled in its throes.

Wes, with no rebuttal to Madison’s claim, turned his head away. Maybe I miscalculated, he muttered.

The ghost hunter grumbled, We could have caught them and claimed the reward from the Agents . . .

Don’t say that, her daughter said hollowly from her seat on the bottom step. Vivian gripped the paw of her childhood teddy bear and raised her head to glare defiantly at her mom.

Trey was sitting next to her. He shifted uncomfortably and said, Madison? After touring the lab, I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy.

Madison shook her head and turned away from her apprentice. Everyone in City Hall was solemn as the realization sank in that their mercenaries—their last hope—were long gone.

Holly folded her arms and bowed her head, scoffing at her own low spirits. Perhaps Cooper had managed to stir her hope just a little with his tantalizing speeches. The people of Phantom Heights actually might have had a chance at reclaiming a normal life. Why did it hurt more to have hope revived and then crushed than it did to have no hope at all to begin with?

Outside, the rain pounded, whipped in driving sheets by the ferocious wind. Holly eyed the rattling boards over the windows. A cold foreboding was taking root and spreading throughout her whole body. Was this a natural storm, or the work of a kálos Atmokinetic with the ability to control the weather?

Lightning washed everything in white for a split second in the throes of a deafening thunderclap. City Hall was plunged into blackness—something no one had witnessed in a year and a half. There was a moment of stunned silence. Somebody yelled, The shield is down!

Panic.

People started screaming. Somewhere in the darkness, Madison was yelling, begging everyone to calm down. The crowd had been engulfed in hysteria, terrified that ghosts were appearing, unseen, in the blackness. With all the screams, it was impossible to tell if anyone was actually being attacked.

Shannon! Holly called, her voice lost in a cacophony of screams. She cupped her hands around her mouth. Shan! Shannon, where are you? Bodies jostled her from every direction in the dark. Another flash of lightning gave her less than a second to scan the mayhem for her daughter. "Shannon!"

A deafening howl drowned out the screams. Holly yelped and doubled over, clapping her hands over her ears. The howl vibrated her bones, her teeth, the whole building. She squinted when the room was suddenly illuminated in red light.

Madison was standing onstage next to a giant gray wolf, a burning flare held high over her head. "Everybody, calm down! This flare isn’t going to last long. I need you all to stay calm when the light goes out. All raiders, arm up and form a perimeter. If you see any glowing eyes, shoot. Don’t hesitate, and don’t ask questions. Pull the trigger."

The townspeople cowered in the center of City Hall as the raiders pushed their way outward. "Excuse me, move, get out of my way, move, Holly snarled, unapologetically forcing her way through the throng. The red light was burning away. She had only a few moments, and there were too many faces in the shadows. Shannon? Shannon, where are you?"

Mom!

Holly whirled. She took a breath to call again but hesitated when a hand gripped two of her fingers. Her daughter squeezed between two bodies, emerging from the mass. Holly exhaled in relief and pulled her inward for a tight embrace. Oh, thank God.

She rested her cheek on top of Shannon’s head. Madison was now standing before the barred doors, gripping a two-barreled silver gun. Trey and Wes took up positions in opposite corners. The wolf was growling, hackles raised along his back. The raid team joined the werewolf and the ghost hunters along the perimeter, facing the boarded windows with their backs to the townspeople.

The flare went out.

An angry rumble of thunder rolled over the drone of rain beating the roof.

Distant lightning flickered. Vivian’s finger was tight on the trigger. She squinted in the darkness, barely discerning the outlines of the boards between lightning flashes. She was ready.

But nobody came through the wall.

She glanced sideways at Trey, who was straightening in confusion. He turned to her mom. I don’t understand. Why aren’t we being attacked?

As one, every body rotated. Thousands of expectant stares fixated onto Madison, who pried her stiff finger from the trigger. Maybe they’re all taking shelter from the storm? She holstered her gun and strode across the great hall. I’m going to try to fix the generator while there’s still time. Trey, you’re in charge of the team. If anything goes wrong, call me.

She wrenched open the door to the basement and disappeared in the pitch black. A flashlight beam appeared, marking her descent. Trey stared at the doorway, looking as though he might throw up with his newfound responsibility to be in charge during a crisis.

Lightning flashed again, followed by a boom of thunder that rattled the entire building. A young girl in the crowd started bawling, her cries muffled as her mother pulled her close to comfort her.

The darting beam reappeared up the stairs. Footsteps announced Madison, who halted in the doorway to breathlessly report, Lightning struck the shield. It repels ectoplasm, not electricity, so some of the conduits on the generator are fried. I don’t know if I can fix it.

Vivian leaned back against the wall, her stomach threatening to surrender her dinner of tomato soup and stale crackers. The ectogun in her hand suddenly felt useless against the hundreds of ghosts just outside with nothing to hold them back.

Madison was so flustered that she was talking and thinking aloud at the same time. It should have hit the rod instead . . . I need . . . parts, tools . . . I can dismantle . . . no, no, that wouldn’t fit . . . if I can just find . . . She vanished down into the basement’s depths again.

Wes growled quietly, his ears pricked forward. The raid team stood at the ready, fingers cramping over triggers, bodies tense, senses alert. Orders? a woman asked.

Trey didn’t answer, as if habitually waiting for his ghost-hunting master to reply. Vivian whispered, Trey?

Hold your position, he finally croaked.

Vivian faced the window again. She curled her fingertips between the boards and squinted across town square. From here, she could see the silhouette of the Fruth building across the street, the tallest building in Phantom Heights. The lightning rod on the roof should have attracted the electricity to protect the shield. One stray bolt, and this might be their last night.

Vivian stepped back and exhaled. She checked her ectogun to ensure the safety was off.

Five minutes later, Vivian and most of the raiders had straightened, looking around City Hall with ectoguns loosely gripped in their hands. And when the storm passed and morning’s light broke the darkness, they were sitting, weapons lying in their laps or tucked back into their holsters. No one dared to leave or even open the door, but several peered through the cracks between the window boards, and more than one reported seeing ectoplasm bursts and ghosts fighting in the plaza. Looks like gang clashes, raiders reported.

Wes sustained limbo long enough to announce, I’m going to find out what’s happening.

You can’t leave! Trey cried.

The wolf, who had started to slink for the doors, paused and metamorphosed again to ask, Why not?

Vivian glanced at Trey, who scowled, mouth open, but no answer came when he did a slow sweep of the hall. Vivian followed his gaze and surveyed the crowd. Everyone was calm. There was no reason for Wes to stay here when he could gather information outside. Well . . . said Trey, what if we’re attacked?

I won’t be long, Wes assured, his response almost incoherent in the mess of sharp teeth as he trotted away on four legs. A pair of raiders opened the door for him.

With the werewolf gone, the raid team drew their weapons again.

But the morning passed without incident. Vivian found Trey sitting with his back to the wall. She holstered her weapon, crawled next to him, and sat cross-legged. Viv, he said, why do you think we haven’t been attacked yet?

Not sure, she answered, feeling strangely calm.

You think they’re waiting for us to lower our guard so they can take us by surprise?

I don’t know. She leaned back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling high above her. Tell me about the twins, she said, turning to make eye contact with Trey.

"Now?"

Yeah. What were they like?

He thought for a moment. Zombies, he finally replied.

What?

Trey hesitated. Well, they watched everything and everyone with these dead blue eyes, but they were . . . I mean, they were kinda creepy because they knew every single thought in your head. On the one hand, I get why Agent Kovak is worried. They’re so silent you forget they’re there, but I think they observe a lot. Even things never said out loud. I bet they know a lot of secrets he doesn’t want leaked to the public. But they didn’t say a single word the whole time they were here. I can’t see them ever giving up any of Kovak’s secrets.

Vivian kept quiet, considering his description. Trey pulled out his Rubik’s cube but just held it in his hand, staring at it. Hey, you solved it! she exclaimed.

No. A1 and A2 did. And I still can’t figure out how they did it.

Vivian gazed at the solved cube. The twins solved it? But they’re only . . . what, ten?

Trey narrowed his eyes. I think they’re smarter than they seem on the surface.

I wish I could have been here. I would’ve liked to meet the people Jay was willing to sacrifice everything for. He doesn’t seem like the type to take unnecessary risks.

Trey was still staring at his cube as if it had hidden answers within and he could find them if he just glared at it long enough. Softly, he said, It’s stupid, you know? Cato bet me twenty bucks I’d never solve this thing. I used to imagine what his face would look like when I showed him this. He shoved it deep in his pocket. Listen, Viv, I know you brushed off everything that happened for your mom’s sake. But please tell me the truth—did they hurt you?

No. They didn’t. They scared me sometimes, but they never hurt me. Jay is . . . hard to describe. Kovak said he’s an aggressive, coldhearted, calculating killer, but the Jay I met was a thoughtful, patient person who was nervous about even coming near me.

Well, apparently he’s also a liar. And he was going to kill you.

Vivian was silent in response to Trey’s cold analysis. I don’t know about that, she said softly. What do you think about this deal? Seriously?

Trey stared down at the prototype gun from the AGC lying in his lap. Well . . . I keep thinking about . . . about Cato. And what he would do if he were here with us.

Vivian drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. And what do you think he’d do?

Trey scoffed. We probably wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. But I think he’d give the Alpha ghosts a chance . . . don’t you?

She shrugged, then tilted her head down so her knee muffled her words. I miss him.

Yeah, Trey agreed, the word cracking.

Thump!

Vivian scrambled for her ectogun. The raiders were on their feet, every weapon trained on the doors. Scritch-scritch-scratch, then a low whine drawing out into a quiet howl.

Wes? called Chase, the raider nearest to the door.

A puppylike yip answered.

Chase heaved the bar to the side and hauled the heavy door open. A furry gray head nudged it hard, tossing Chase back. The massive wolf slunk into City Hall, its eyes glowing yellow. In this form, Wes was as big as a draft horse, broad-shouldered with a short dark mane between his shoulder blades.

The ectoguns lowered toward the floor. Wes shook his body, flinging water everywhere and causing a wide radius of disgruntled people to shield their faces with their arms and curse at him. His body shrank, the wet fur yielding to skin, and then the limbo creature was standing on two legs, his tail swishing back and forth to keep his balance on his furry haunches.

Where’s Madison? he demanded above the grumblings and the questions.

Vivian jogged to the basement door and called down, Mom! Wes is back!

Her mom appeared at the bottom of the staircase and trotted up the steps, then halted in the doorway. What’s going on out there? she asked, wiping her hands on a dirty towel.

Wes shifted, eyes darting, as though he was on an adrenaline high and couldn’t keep still. We’ve been attacked nonstop since the shield went down.

What are you talking about? We haven’t seen a single ghost.

It’s the Alpha ghosts. They’ve set up a perimeter around City Hall. They’re protecting us.

The gun fell from Vivian’s hand and clattered to the floor, the only sound in the wake of silence following Wes’s statement. Her mom’s eyes were wide as she ogled the boarded windows.

"Maddie, you have to fix that shield now. I don’t think they can last much longer."

She ran her fingers through her hair. They actually stayed . . . she whispered, shaking her head.

Wes strode forward and seized her by the shoulders. She grimaced; Wes still had claws. Maddie! They must be exhausted! You have to get that shield operational!

She nodded. Okay. I think I’m close. I just need a few more hours.

Wes released her and turned away. I’m going out there to help them, he announced, his body shifting again.

Trey stepped forward. I’m going, too.

No, said Madison. No, you have to stay here to guard City Hall in case any ghosts get through their perimeter.

I can help, he protested.

You’re needed here most.

The wolf loped out the doors again. Trey watched bitterly, folding his arms. Thank you, said Madison. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

We should send raiders, he insisted. The green team can fight while the blue team guards City Hall.

Vivian stood straighter. She and Trey had always accompanied her mom on the green team. Jay needed her help, and she was ready.

Her mom considered the proposal. Police Chief Emerton spoke up: I don’t like that tactical move.

Why? Trey challenged before Madison had a chance to.

Because, he replied patiently, we employed mercenaries we’ve never met. We go out and start shooting at ghosts without knowing who’s who, and we’re likely to shoot our own allies. Fast way to end a deal, don’t you think?

I agree, said Madison.

Trey clenched his teeth, choosing to stew in angry silence.

Vivian turned away to watch Chase jam the bar back into place over the doors. She understood Trey’s frustration. He wanted to be a ghost hunter. He wanted to fight.

And they both knew Cato wouldn’t have stood there doing nothing.

The ghost collapsed with a sickening thud into a puddle at my feet.

Raindrops dripped arrhythmically from the lip of my hood, and I tugged at the soaked black cloth covering the lower half of my face. Jay had taken inspiration from my former days as Phantom, and now he, Ash, RC, and I were all hidden behind hoods and masks to conceal our faces and, more importantly, our youth. But I was gasping to force air through the fabric and into my burning lungs, and I yearned to pull the wet cloth away so I could breathe.

My victim stirred, starting to pull himself up again. The trickle of blood from his nose told me he was close to burning out, but he still had a little strength left. I held out my hand, focusing all my concentration on the water he was kneeling in.

I associated my two Divinities with colors. The green power was hot. It was rage and destruction, and when it surfaced, both of my eyes blazed green. The other was cold and blue. This was the one I summoned when I reached for my center, causing my left green eye to change color and match my right blue one.

The puddle solidified; crystalline pillars of ice erupted upward to encase the man’s arms and legs. No way he had enough power left in his reserves to become intangible. I let my hand fall.

A sudden chill crept down my spinal cord just before an impact sent me crashing into the wall. Damn it—too slow. The ectoplasm bruised my ribs on one side; the wall bruised them on the other. I hit the ground, stunned, and twisted my neck to find my assailant. He was a big man in height and girth, his whole bald head tattooed. I tried to stand, but my muscles didn’t want to obey. This battle seemed endless. I was sleep-deprived and hungry. I’d been drinking from puddles whenever I had a few minutes to catch my breath, and the fatigue was making me slow and clumsy. This was a much bigger arena than what I was used to fighting in. More enemies. More hiding places. Same fight for my life, though.

I pushed myself onto my hands and knees.

Stand up.

My arms trembled. I glared at my reflection in a puddle.

Stand up! I screamed at myself. The ghost stopped his advance, eyes glowing as electric-blue ectoplasm condensed in his hands. I didn’t have the energy reserves left to summon a shield; this was going to hurt.

His smile turned into a grimace, and he went rigid as degraded red ectoplasm suddenly coursed in vicious tendrils along his entire body.

Grade G. The highest form of ectoplasm. Impressive, I thought in a delusional daze, so numbed by exhaustion that I wasn’t even afraid of who was generating this Grade G ectoplasm, how powerful he or she must be, or how much it was going to hurt if I was the next target.

My attacker shrieked, his body convulsing as the energy ran through it like red lightning shocking his system and snapping across his skin. His screams subsided when he sank to his knees, then onto his side, residual zaps of ectoplasm still crackling across his limp body. A cloaked figure wearing an Alpha uniform was standing behind him.

Thank you, I croaked.

Axel stepped forward with his fist extended. I seized his forearm and allowed him to effortlessly pull me to my feet. "Just to be clear, I didn’t do it for them," he said, jerking his head at dark City Hall.

I nodded wearily. Only a few hours ago, I’d resented my lab-brother for sitting on a rooftop watching the battle. He still wouldn’t fight with us, and even worse, he had the nerve to hang upside down from the gutter and criticize my footwork. Axel could have ended this fight a long time ago. He was the strongest, fastest, most powerful ghost alive, and he was also the most stubborn. I still thought Jay was being a pushover by letting Axel get away with this rebellion, but I could honestly admit, I’m glad to have you by my side.

An eerie, bone-chilling howl broke above the drone of the rain. I paused, gazing past my lab-brother at the massive animal fleeing from City Hall. The creature loped into town square, glowing yellow eyes fixed on a pair of ghosts fighting with Jay. Wes pounced on his prey. Jay vanished, leaving the two ghosts to the mercy of the wolf’s teeth.

A distant squeal of pain—unfortunately an all-too-familiar one I knew belonged to Ash—made me turn. Axel was already gone to assist her. I was on my own again.

I gazed at the white building that housed the human population of Phantom Heights. City Hall had four stone columns supporting its portico, and a domed roof served as the base for its clock tower. My blood-family was inside. I didn’t want to think about how I was fighting to protect them right now, because I didn’t want to be. They’d disowned me; they didn’t deserve my protection.

I shook my head. I’m not fighting for them, I reminded myself. I was fighting for Finn and Reese. I was fighting to earn their medicine, and I was fighting to repay the debt we owed for our powers. Not my blood-family.

A figure running toward City Hall jolted my thoughts, and I sprinted in pursuit. The woman must have sensed me; she whirled. With a battle cry, she swung at me, and in two smooth moves, I’d taken her down. I raised my left fist, sweeping my ice-crusted forearm to the side to deflect her blow away from my head while simultaneously driving my right hand up into her exposed face, smashing the heel of my palm into her nose. The forward and upward thrust of my hand shattered the cartilage and bone with a disturbing crack. My opponent screeched and stumbled away from me, her hands flying up to her face to catch the blood.

I shivered, sensing another ghost, and I heard him charging me from behind, his footsteps heavy, his breathing loud and ragged. I knew by listening to his gait that he was much larger than me. I had seconds to react. Intangibility was a useful defense—if I called upon it, he’d pass right through me—but it was costly, not ideal in a long-term fight. My power reserves were dangerously low as it was.

I crouched lower, preparing myself, listening, and at the last possible moment, I took two steps back, straight into my startled attacker. He’d been committed to grabbing me where I was, and I’d thrown off his timing by moving closer to him. I seized his arm, which was still outstretched to lock around me, and hauled him over my shoulder, using his own momentum to flip him over my crouched body.

The man floundered through the air, then landed with a hollow grunt on his back. The air rushed out of his lungs in a single whoosh. I leapt forward and came down on top of him with both feet squarely in his stomach. He tried to gasp, but with nothing left in his lungs to exhale, he just made another strangled grunt. I raised my hand toward the sky, and in the two seconds it took for me to bring it down hard, a ball of ice had formed in my fist, now leaving my fingers and flying the short distance with gravity’s acceleration into his face.

I glanced at City Hall for the hundredth time, wishing the Dome would appear so I could rest. Come on, Madison, I thought impatiently, as if directing my thoughts at the refuge would goad her into action.

Incoming. Right side.

How I knew that, I couldn’t say. Long hours getting the crap beaten out of me in the Arena had tuned my level of awareness. I was used to seeing RC’s silver disks zipping through my peripheral and having a split second to react. I clenched my fist and raised my right arm, ducked my head, and turned my shoulder to meet the blow as I reached for my center. A layer of ice hardened into partial armor on my right arm. This minimalistic hardening maintained my power reserves more efficiently than intangibility would have, especially since the latter defense was useless when ectoplasm was involved.

The weapon—it wasn’t ectoplasm, but I couldn’t catch enough of a glimpse to identify it—struck my forearm. The impact knocked me to the side, but I kept my footing, even used the momentum to spin a full circle and fling a shard of ice back at the source of the attack.

She was quick enough to deflect it, my ice meeting a metal weapon with a clang that echoed across the square. But I was faster. I’d already thrown two more deadly shards that whizzed through the air. The first was high, aimed for her head. She deflected. The second was lower, aimed for her rib cage, only half a second behind the first. Not enough time to lower her arm after shielding her face. My aim, guided by my concentration and Divinity, was true, and she went down.

I had no time to celebrate. My feet were yanked off the ground, and I found myself floundering through the air. A cloaked figure with glowing green eyes was pulling me toward him. A Telekinetic, like RC? He veered back with his fist, and I was on course to fly right into the blow. I couldn’t stop my trajectory, but I raised my forearms in front of my face and coated them with ice while pulling my knees up and coating my shins as well. His punch, amplified by brass knuckles and my speed through the air, made contact with the ice armor on my arms. My ice cracked, but it protected me.

Then I was flying away from him. I couldn’t react fast enough to brace myself when I smashed into a column. Bloody Scout, I wheezed. That might have cracked a rib or two.

I was being pulled toward him again. I was pretty sure this wasn’t telekinesis. He didn’t have RC’s finesse to guide me in any particular direction. RC could have flung me from wall to wall and dropped me on the roof like a rag doll; all this guy could do was attract and repel me, as if his body were a magnet and I were made of metal.

I held out my palm and fired ectoplasm to greet my assailant ahead of me. I dropped like a rock and landed hard on the cobblestones half a second before my ectoplasm rebounded and flew over my head. So, my opponent couldn’t attract me and repel an attack at the same time. Okay, let’s play.

He flung me away again, but this time I was ready. I brought my feet up so the soles of my boots landed on the column. My knees bent to absorb the impact.

He pulled me toward him once more, already veering back for another punch, and at the first shift in direction, I pushed off the column like a rocket. This time, I didn’t curl up to take the hit. This time, my ice didn’t thicken into a shell to protect me. This time, I waited until a couple of seconds before impact before I reached for my center again, and then I was holding a crude ice spear that would meet his stomach before his brass knuckles could meet my face. I saw the instant realization widen his eyes, but he couldn’t reverse his power in time.

My spear passed through his intangible abdomen, my body a second behind. His power broke. I dropped my spear and tumbled across the cobblestones, trying to slow my momentum. I hadn’t fully stopped rolling, but I had my bearings, and I threw my arm out, freezing ice needles and sending them flying in his direction as I finally slid to a clumsy stop.

He’d already turned to face me. My ice stopped midair, and then the shards were zipping right back at me. I didn’t move; by my will, the ice melted, pelting me as harmless rain. Damn it. I missed my chance. Anything I’d throw at him now—ectoplasm or ice—would be repelled. So would I if I tried to charge him.

My focus traveled from his face down to his boots. To his reflection in the puddles. To hardening that water and making it slick and smooth underfoot.

He slipped, arms pinwheeling to keep his balance, but his feet flew out from under him, and he crashed onto his back. I raised my hand, fingers splayed. He jerked with a gasp, staring straight up at the low cloud ceiling. I let my hand fall. I didn’t need to check to see if he was dead. I didn’t need to see the sharp ice stalagmites that had erupted from beneath him and impaled his body, a growing pool of blood mixed with my melting ice in the rain. He’d given me a good fight, but it was over.

Slowly, I stood. I wiped my nose, surprised to see blood diluted raindrop by raindrop on my fingers. Not good. My power reserves were almost tapped out.

Two more ghosts approached me, their stances indicative of another fight. Great. Two on one. I’m too tired for this shit. They halted, seemingly alarmed by something behind me, and then they took off running. Bewildered, I turned.

Shadow Guards were appearing through the Rip. Okay, I take it back. I prefer the two-on-one odds.

Something hit me so hard and fast I found myself on my back staring up at the clouds in a daze. What struck me? I didn’t want to get up again. I wanted to lie there and close my eyes and fall asleep.

But I couldn’t. With a groan, I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up. To my surprise and relief, a green spark lit the tip of the clock tower. A single beam shot from the tall spire and fell to the ground like a transparent curtain. I stared at the Dome, and then I chuckled. Next thing I knew, I was laughing hysterically like a lunatic in the downpour. About time, Madison.

The Guards had hesitated at the Dome’s reappearance, but they were moving into formation. I shivered; Jay was kneeling beside me. Close your eyes, he advised.

I obeyed. His hand clutched my shoulder, and I braced myself. A roaring wind filled my ears as immense pressure pushed against me from all directions. When I cracked my eyes open again, I was Home.

Madison emerged from the stairs, wiping perspiration from her brow. It’s working, she announced.

She was answered with a chorus of cheers.

As the ruckus settled, knuckles rapped on the door from the outside. It’s me, came Wes’s voice. Trey opened the door, and the werewolf poked his head in. He cleared his throat. Doc handed him a towel to wrap around his waist, and then he slunk inside on dirty bare feet, beaming through the blood spattered on his face. "I told you! he crowed. Ha! I told you this deal would work!"

Madison sighed, but she couldn’t dispute. If Wes hadn’t made the deal with the Alpha ghosts, they all would have been in serious trouble when the shield went down. What she dreaded, however, was having to hear Wes boast for weeks on end about it. Even now, he was opening his mouth to continue, but he paused and looked at the whiteboard instead with a hushed, Oh.

Madison turned. The marker was levitating from the tray. It wobbled precariously, as if the wielder barely had the strength to raise it. City Hall held its breath as shaky words were written on the board, the handwriting noticeably sloppier.

Exausted need a brake.

Madison nodded. Yes, of course, she answered faintly. You deserve it.

The marker fell to the floor with a clatter, the cap spinning separately.

Thank you! Madison called, but she was sure the Alpha ghosts were already gone. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the floor, still in a state of shock. She had been so sure they’d left Phantom Heights without looking back, and yet here they were, honoring their bargain, risking their own well-being to uphold their word.

Wes, give me your phone. She held out her hand.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her distrustfully. Why?

She fixed him with a cold stare until grudgingly, he went to his pile of folded clothes and dug in the pocket of his jeans for his cell phone. Madison dialed the AGC’s number and held the phone up to her ear.

What are you doing? Wes demanded. They kept up their end of the deal!

Madison raised her index finger warningly, signaling him to be quiet. She turned away as a female’s voice answered, You’ve reached the Agency of Ghost Control. This is a restricted line. If you have dialed by error, please disconnect immediately. Otherwise, state your name and whom you wish your call directed to.

Wes lunged to reclaim the phone, but Madison spun away. Yes, hi, this is Madison Tarrow, hunter ID 0228. I need to speak with Agent Kovak, please.

One moment.

Holly’s eyebrows lifted in alarm. You’re calling Kovak?

Madison! Wes exclaimed.

I know what I’m doing, said Madison. "Now shut it before I tell him there’s a werewolf standing in front of me." Wes took a startled step back as if he’d just been slapped.

Over the earpiece, a man’s voice answered. Kovak speaking.

Hello! Madison chimed. Holly frowned and shook her head, but Madison had already realized that her voice was too chipper. She coughed once and said, This is Madison Tarrow.

Maddie? Agent Kovak sounded surprised. She almost corrected the irritating nickname, but she held her tongue as he continued, This is . . . unexpected.

Trey shook his head pleadingly and mouthed, You can’t do this. It’s not fair.

Conscious of every eye still trained on her, Madison replied, Ah, yes, well . . . first of all, I just wanted to thank you for the weapons you sent us.

Mm-hmm, always happy to help, Agent Kovak murmured absently. Madison imagined him inspecting his manicured fingernails and fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Also, we’ve been keeping an eye out for your missing ghosts, so I’m calling to update you—there’s been no sign of them here in Phantom Heights.

The crowd let out a collective sigh of relief, and Wes’s hard scowl softened in realization. Holly set her hand over her heart. Madison stood still, listening to silence on the other end of the line.

Finally, Agent Kovak said coldly, "Tarrow, we aren’t interested in knowing where our ghosts are not. Don’t call me unless you’ve seen them or you have reason to believe they’ve passed your way."

Although he couldn’t see her, Madison nodded. Yes, sir.

The line went dead. Agent Kovak had surely slammed the phone down, no doubt out of frustration at the pointless interruption and the mocking tone with which Madison had said, yes, sir.

She shot Wes a smirk as she tossed the phone back. They kept their end; I thought we should keep ours.

The raid team crept slowly, guns drawn, led by the gray wolf slinking through the darkness.

It’s quiet tonight, Madison said, stepping over a window frame. They’d been outside the entoplasm shield for more than ten minutes now without encountering a single ghost.

Trey paused as a shadow flitted a few yards away. He couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched, and the last time he’d disregarded that suspicion, they’d lost Vivian. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Maybe they hadn’t been attacked yet because there was an ambush ahead.

His finger was cramping over the trigger. He almost would have welcomed an opponent just so he’d have an excuse to see how the AGC’s modified gun handled. He had yet to fire it, which was beyond strange. He heard light footsteps running quietly through the night, but when he turned, he saw nothing. Too bad I can’t sense ghosts like Cato could, he thought.

Madison’s white-knuckled grip on her gun loosened. I wonder why we haven’t been attacked, she said.

Movement in the shadows drew a gasp from Trey. He tapped her shoulder. When she turned, he pointed at an open door. I think that’s why, he whispered.

Madison stared. When the rest of the raid team followed their glances, they also froze. Lurking in the shadow of a doorway was a cloaked figure with a single glowing blue eye, the other half of his face hidden behind the doorframe. Stitched on the front of his chest, barely visible in the poor light, was part of a white α symbol.

The ghost met their gazes briefly, narrowed his eye, and then slipped into the shadows.

Trey said, I think they’ve been trailing us since we left.

The wolf whimpered and turned in a tight circle, sniffing the air. Madison swallowed. She whirled just as the edge of a cloak vanished around a corner. They surrounded us, she realized aloud.

Just like when the shield went down, Chase added.

The raiders murmured among themselves and glanced about nervously. What do we do? another asked.

Trey looked to Madison for guidance, as did everyone else. She considered for a moment, then answered, Let them fight. We can travel farther and bring back more supplies.

She took off at a brisk jog, and Trey matched her pace. It was a strange feeling, going against all instincts to be cautious, but they had mercenaries at their disposal. Might as well take full advantage.

Trey’s gaze wandered up to the shadow that dashed along the rooftop above them, a whisper of footsteps running through the empty building on his right, the edge of a black cloak disappearing around the corner up ahead.

I yanked down the mask and exhaled to calm my pounding heart. I hadn’t intended to be seen. I’d been lucky this time; I was the only ghost in the Realms with heterochromia. If the raid team had seen both eyes, they would have identified me immediately, even with the hood and mask hiding my face.

I waited, allowing the humans to put distance between us, and then I refitted the black cloth over the lower half of my face and slinked behind. They’d quickened their pace and abandoned some of their stealth now that they knew we were here.

I gritted my teeth as Ash’s screams broke the quiet—another Spasm. The humans faltered. They must think we were torturing someone. That was almost amusing, but just as well because Jay said it was best for them to fear us. He hoped that would inspire them to keep their distance. Be silent, be quick, he’d instructed. Nothing more than a passing shadow.

As Ash’s cries faded, the raiders continued on. I trailed after them.

The final count was five to two. Axel and I had been outvoted. Axel didn’t really care that much; despite the vote, he still refused to aid humankind. To me, the final decision was a devastating blow. I didn’t want to be here. These people from my life Before turned on me once, and I had no doubt they’d turn on me again without hesitation, only this time they’d hurt my new family, too. But, like it or not, our services had been employed until the day the humans broke their end of the deal, and until that happened—I knew it was only a matter of time—my personal mission was to protect my lab-family above anyone else, despite our deal.

So, while RC recuperated, we spent several days training at Home. We had to relearn how to use the full extent of our powers, which had been neutralized and filtered for so long. The first few days were long hours of nonstop drills and sparring sessions overseen by Jay. He wanted us to be completely prepared. Once we started fighting, we were sure to make a lot of enemies in a short amount of time. There would be no room for errors.

The plan was to establish a firm hold on one section of the town before gradually widening the radius of our control. We were essentially just another gang claiming territory. But just before we were ready to make our first move, the Dome malfunctioned, forcing us into action to protect our new wards. And now, here we were, our first real mission since that impromptu battle.

I quickened my slinking stride into a swift dash through the abandoned buildings alongside the raid team. My long, smooth gait easily overtook them. I paused half a block ahead to crouch below a window, where I set my fingertips on the dusty sill and rose just enough to peer over the edge as the wolf stalked past. His massive paws padded across the asphalt, tail whisking from side to side, nose to the ground, eyes glowing yellow in the night. The swelling moon cast a silver sheen on his gray coat. He still perplexed me to no end.

A few days ago, Jay had asked, What was your relationship with Wes?

I’d had to search through my fragmented memories. I didn’t remember much about Wesly Cooper. I think we tolerated each other. He wasn’t an enemy, but he wasn’t an ally, either.

Is he trustworthy?

My gut says no.

The wolf passed from my vision, and the leader of the raid team sidled into view—Madison Tarrow.

My green Divinity burned hot with hatred while I watched her sweep her gun expertly in front of her body. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She was slim, similar in stature to Vivian. But much colder. I didn’t think she knew how to laugh like Viv, or even smile like her daughter.

Tell me about Madison, Jay had requested.

I’d emptied my lungs in one heavy sigh. She’s lethal, hates ghosts, and is capable of anything. That’s all you really need to know. I had left it at that. A few years ago when I’d been Phantom, she had tried to kill me countless times. I’d been her enemy, but she’d never been mine. That was Before. Now, I considered her one of my greatest adversaries.

Trailing just behind was her apprentice. I cocked my head, studying the teen. We had to be about the same age. He wasn’t nearly as deadly as his ghost-hunting master. I could tell just by the way he moved that he wasn’t as confident, either. His steps were cautious, and his eyes darted behind a pair of goggles. While Madison was calm and collected, Trey was nervous and jumpy.

It had been sobering to come face-to-face with him for the first time after my escape. In that moment when our eyes locked while I hesitated in the doorway, we’d stood before each other in our true colors—he an armored ghost hunter, I a fugitive hiding in the shadows. How our friendship had devolved over these past few years. I had been beaten down, broken in mind, body, and spirit, over and over, hardened by betrayal and the need to survive. I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Trey after Lastday to turn him into this. I barely even recognized him behind his goggles and patchy beard.

What about the ghost hunter’s apprentice? Is he dangerous?

Madison is teaching him everything she knows, so for now at least, we’ll have to consider him an enemy too, unless he proves otherwise. I didn’t tell Jay that Trey used to be my best friend. My past didn’t matter now. The next time I’d face him, we would not be friends. We would be a ghost and a ghost hunter, two people destined to be enemies regardless of who we were in a past life.

I watched the two ghost hunters pass, the rest of the team trooping behind. Interestingly, Vivian wasn’t with the group. No doubt Madison had her precious daughter hidden away in City Hall to keep her safe after our kidnapping stunt. It was not only interesting, but also amusing. Madison really did fear us.

I draped my arms on the windowsill and rested my chin on my hands, my gaze following the armed humans making their way down the street. I bet Vivian was bored out of her mind in City Hall. I’d probably never have the chance to speak to her again. Disappointing, but probably for the best. It was too dangerous to get close to her. It was too dangerous for me to get close to anybody from Before.

I shivered. I stood in alarm, skimming the street for the ghost I’d sensed. I turned away from the window to continue trailing the raid team. This mission was particularly difficult; I was surrounded by hostile ghosts while avoiding the hostile humans who were all armed to the teeth with ghost-hunting weapons. Part of our decision to keep our rather conspicuous uniforms was the hope that the raiders would recognize the Alpha symbol on our chests and hold their fire. As Trey just proved a few minutes ago, that