Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle #2) - Adam Silvera Page 0,79

I don’t have it in me to move. I close my eyes and wait.

“Tala, don’t!” a guy shouts in an English accent.

I’m covered in shadows of massive wings and for a delirious moment I wonder if there’s a British phoenix that speaks with the ease of humans like my favorite childhood cartoon. But of course that’s nonsense. I look up to see who saved my life and there’s a pale guy with brown hair riding what has to be an obsidian phoenix judging by its glittering black feathers. The guy is wearing a leather jacket with feathered sleeves as black as the phoenix—another Halo Knight.

The obsidian lands smoothly on the rooftop and if I wasn’t already intimidated by the sheer size of this phoenix, a whole foot taller than the light howler, I fully tense up as those dark eyes that look hollowed out of its face stare at me. The Halo Knight dismounts and there’s a dirty white satchel hanging from his broad shoulder. From what I can make out underneath his open jacket, his white shirt is pressed tight against his pecs. He extends his cautious hand toward Tala as he approaches me.

“Why are you following me, Wyatt?” Tala asks.

“You’re my friend—and because Crest said he’d increase my book budget if Nox and I tracked you down.” Wyatt offers Tala a dimpled smile that doesn’t win her over. “You know Nox; he loves a hunt.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly.” Wyatt gestures at me and Brighton. He helps me up with his sweaty hands and we seem to be the exact same height judging by how I’m able to stare straight into his eyes, which are as blue as Brighton’s flames. Between the patchy stubble arching along his jawline and the smell of cedarwood, it’s as if Wyatt has been hiking in the wilderness for days. There are three thin scars down the side of his neck, possibly from a phoenix, but too small to come from Nox. He wraps my arm around his muscular shoulders and guides me to the stone bench to rest.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” Tala asks.

“Emil and Brighton Rey—the self-proclaimed Infinity Kings.” Wyatt knows who we are. Time will tell if that’s good or not. “Pardon me, darling, but I’m not familiar with you,” he says to Prudencia.

“A friend,” Prudencia says.

“Well, hello, friend.” Wyatt turns to Maribelle with a hand on his heart. “You’re Maribelle Lucero. My condolences. May Atlas’s winds blow again in another life.”

Tala allows his sympathy to sink in for a moment before pointing her finger at me. “Wyatt, that isn’t just Emil Rey—he was also Bautista de León and Keon Máximo. Everything we have feared about phoenix specters is true. They can be reborn and he’s the mastermind behind it all!”

I brace myself for Wyatt’s kindness to shift to violence but he’s still as a statue.

“I was reborn into this, but I don’t have any of Bautista’s or Keon’s memories. I swear I’m my own person and I don’t want to be a specter. I have a journal that belonged to Maribelle’s parents, Bautista and Sera, and I’m trying to complete their work on a power-binding potion. I want this cycle to end with me.”

“Wait one second.” Wyatt looks between me and Maribelle. “Maribelle, I thought your parents were two of the Spell Walkers that died during the Blackout. And Emil, you look nothing like Bautista or Keon but you’re somehow Maribelle’s father?”

“Bautista and Sera are my biological parents, but Aurora and Lestor Lucero raised me. Emil isn’t my father,” Maribelle says.

“But he technically is, yeah?” Wyatt replies. “His past life gave you yours. But what does that make you? I thought you were a celestial.”

Maribelle’s left eye burns like an eclipse and the right glows like sailing comets. Dark yellow flames encircle her fists. “I’m a hybrid.”

“Didn’t have to demonstrate; I would’ve believed you,” Wyatt says as he digs inside his satchel and withdraws a logbook. “That said, this is all a lot.” He mutters as he takes notes. “Emil is Maribelle’s father, but not really. . . . Specters with phoenix blood can come back to life but apparently as new people. . . . Celestials and specters can procreate. . . . Oof . . .”

I keep my eyes on Tala the entire time in case she’s feeling trigger-happy while Wyatt is writing away as if this has been a chill environment before his arrival.

“Did I miss anything?” Wyatt asks.

“The power-binding potion,” I say.

“Aha!

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