Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle #2) - Adam Silvera Page 0,27
baggy shirts. There’s a lot I would give up right now just to touch him again. To explore our feelings. Maybe even discover each other without any clothes on.
“That Spell Walker your boyfriend?” Jax asks from the door, his presence completely surprising me.
My blood rushes to Emil’s cheeks, and I glow gray as I revert back into myself. “No,” I say as I throw on one of my old shirts. I have no idea how long Jax has been watching me. I can’t have the Senator thinking that Emil is someone I’m interested in. “He’s just another good guy that got hurt because of me. Many more to come thanks to you all.”
Jax doesn’t take the bait. “Tell me. How many times have you turned into other people to see what they look like naked?”
I sit up in bed. “That’s not how this works.”
“That’s a shame.”
I wasn’t best friends with my bodyguard Logan, but there was always decency between us. “Any chance of Logan relieving you from your shift?”
“He took leave after your ‘death.’ Took it personally,” Jax says. “But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
Let him think that he’s the one that’s got me cornered, even though every time he smirks and crosses his arms or taps his left foot, he’s giving me what I need if I get the opportunity to shift into him and escape.
I got good at picking up details on people years ago. Samples came back from this family photo shoot where my smile was so convincing, even though I’d been pissed at my parents that morning. I was only eleven then and thought it was bizarre how smiles could be faked. I kept studying other people from there, trying to figure out their tells. Which smiles from Mom were lies? Was Dad’s smile real when he saw me onstage for school plays? Or the one when I drew him in third grade for Hero Day?
This all came in handy at the beginning of February when I stood under the Cloaked Phantom—the twice-a-year constellation that elevates shifting abilities—and drank Luna’s potion to get my powers. She appreciated how well I paid attention to others, and even though our sessions were brutal before I could really get a handle on shifting, it’s all played a part in why I’m so good at what I do.
I have to use this to my advantage, but plotting against the Senator and his team is tricky. There’s no telling when Zenon is looking out of my eyes to see what I’m up to. I can’t take notes about any plans. I can’t mess with the window, which has been welded shut. I can’t set aside anything I might use as a weapon. I have to operate like there’s a camera on me at all times; I don’t know that there isn’t. I’ve been spending a lot of time in bed, eyes closed to black him out. It’s a good thing he can’t see into my head, I guess.
The lights in my room switch off. I turn, thinking it’s Jax still messing with me, but the hallway is dark too, and he’s looking around suspiciously.
“Status on power,” Jax requests into his wrist communicator.
That means that whoever is surrounding the manor must be spread out or not looking at each other. When a person is alone, Zenon can only identify them if he recognizes their body or clothes, or if they’re staring into a mirrored surface like a puddle or glass.
“I’m taking Eduardo to the panic room,” Jax says.
The panic room has existed in the manor since the Senator was a child, but he’s had it updated over the years as he’s made more enemies. It has everything we could need—independent high-speed internet connection, fridges with enough food to last two weeks, top-of-the-line wands, bathroom with functioning shower, foldout beds, and, most importantly, the strongest power-deflecting gleam-shield that money can buy. I don’t want to go down there. I can’t risk tripling the number of locks keeping me in the manor.
It’s a long shot, but what if Emil is here to rescue me? If he suspected that the enforcers got their hands on me, then maybe he would’ve thought the family home would be a good place to check out. Then again, it’s damning to break into the house of the presidential candidate who is running on a platform