Broken Knights (Gifted Academy #4) - Michelle Hercules Page 0,75

face while she tries to keep her jacket closed. Thanks to the light color of the fabric, it’s easy to spot the bloodstains on her sleeve. Morpheus notices that too. He curses, then turns into dark smoke, vanishing through the crack in the window in the blink of an eye.

“What the hell was that?” I ask.

“He’s embraced his demigod side.” Daisy reaches for the door handle, but I open it for her with my mind. She glances at me and smiles. “Thanks.”

My heart goes to a hundred in an instant. Damn, I have it bad for this girl. I follow her, but considering her attention is now riveted on Mrs. Malek, I try to ignore my naughty thoughts. Morpheus has shifted back into a solid human. He’s Chaos’s grandson all right. That was a freaky trick he pulled.

“Mom, are you okay?” Morpheus stares at his mother’s clothes.

“Yes. This isn’t my blood. I’ve been helping with the wounded. Come inside quickly.”

“Any chance you can open the loading gate for us? We have cargo that shouldn’t be left outside,” Xavier says from inside the van.

“Yes, of course. We don’t want any vehicles parked here anyway.”

We all head inside and discover a world that looks like it came straight from a war movie. Part of the warehouse floor has been converted into a makeshift hospital where wounded patients lie on blankets and mattresses on the floor. It makes me sick when I realize that most of them are children.

Daisy gasps, covering her mouth with a closed fist. I start toward her, but the sound of my name being called out stops me in my tracks. I turn toward it and find my mother making a beeline in my direction.

“Phoenix, oh thank heavens you’re okay.” She pulls me into an embrace. I’m too stunned to react, so I just stand there like a wooden pole.

“What are you doing here?” I pull back, wrestling with the conflicting emotions bouncing around in my chest. The little boy in me wants to lean into the comfort of her embrace, but the jaded person I am now can’t let go of the pain.

“I tracked Shereen down when I couldn’t locate you. I heard about that awful cop on the news.”

“Yeah, he got what he deserved. But are you helping the Norms and Fringes now?”

She jerks her head back as if my question offends her. “I’ve never shared your father’s ideals about them.”

Hearing her speak about him makes me nauseated. The latch holding the dark memories of my abuse cracks right down the middle. If I don’t focus on something else, it will split open. I turn to Mrs. Malek. “What can we do to help?”

“Please get settled first, and then look for Ellen. She’ll tell you what to do.”

Bryce steps forward, looking grimmer than ever. “Point me at your most critical cases.”

Daisy’s and Rufio’s faces blanch. Bryce has not fared well after healing the dying. But how could we look at all these hurt people and not try to help?

“There’s one little boy, not much older than two, who’s in bad shape. We don’t think he’ll last much longer,” Mom says. “I’ll take you to him.”

Bryce and Daisy follow my mother, and because I can’t stay too far away from the love of my life, I do too. I avoid glancing at the people along the way, but not because I lack sympathy. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll break down. I’m hanging on by a thread already. Their pain is getting to me; it’s making me remember my own. Another fissure on the latch. Fuck. I grind my teeth harder.

When Mom stops next to a little kid who has more than half of his body covered in burns, my legs falter. Daisy makes a distressed sound, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Those motherfuckers,” Bryce grits out.

“How? I thought they’d attacked the schools. He’s too young,” Daisy says.

“I don’t know. He was found underneath his mother on the sidewalk near one of the attack locations. She died trying to protect him.”

“So he’s an orphan?” I ask through the lump in my throat.

“We don’t know. His father might be looking for him.”

“He’s so quiet,” Daisy murmurs.

“I think Ellen might have given him sedatives,” Mom replies.

Bryce kneels next to the kid, placing his hand above his chest. Immediately, a bright glow comes forth, illuminating the area. The boy disappears underneath the halo. Bryce doesn’t move a muscle. The only indication that he’s working hard is the furrow of his eyebrows.