one small piece of defensive skills. You should learn as much as you can.”
“You think that would help?”
He flashes a lop-sided smile. “It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
Right now, I rely completely on my guards to protect me. I’ve picked up a few things, but Oliver is right, Mother has only taught me how to hurt others. “Can you show me?”
“I could, but I have someone better in mind.” He taps his wristlet. “Dawson, can you come to Lark’s office?”
The air crackles near the door and Dawson steps out of nothingness. “How can I help you, Miss Lark?”
Oliver leaps off the couch. “She wants to learn defensive skills and I thought she should learn from the very best.” He winks. “Don’t ever repeat that. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Of course. Miss Lark, if you’ll please stand near your desk.” Dawson’s deep timber vibrates like a cello at the orchestra.
I scurry across the room and turn toward my guard.
“On my mark, I want you to imagine deflecting the magic I’m sending at you.”
I flinch. “If I can’t do it, will it hurt?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
I grimace. That doesn’t sound promising. Still I raise my hands to my chest, palm sides out like I’ve seen my guards do.
“Three, two—”
Before he finishes, a piece of magic whizzes at me from Oliver’s direction. It hits me in the side and knocks me over.
“That’s not fair!” I say, as I right myself. “I didn’t know you were going to do that!”
Dawson pushes up his glasses. “It was fair. The first rule of defensive training: always be alert. You never know where your enemy will appear.”
I suck in my breath and ready my hands. “Fine. Try again.”
This time, both of them fire magic at me. I deflect Oliver’s, but Dawson’s strikes me square in the chest.
“If we were engaged in battle, you’d be dead.”
I try not to laugh. Little does he know, I don’t plan on living much longer. I huff and ready myself again.
Just as I’m about to dodge an attack from Dawson, an alarm blares from all three of our wristlets. A soothing female voice speaks: Security Breach. Please follow protocol. Security Breach. Please follow protocol. Over and over again.
Oliver and Dawson exchange troubled looks.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
My guards both have their fingers to their ears, listening to their secure feed. With a weary glance, Oliver replies, “A minor incident. It’s nothing to worry about, but we need to get to a secure area.”
A dull numbness radiates across my body. At school, we practiced drills for Sensitive attacks. Drills just like this one. Only we are the Sensitives. So what’s going on?
Before opening the door, Dawson says, “It’s important we appear calm. Do not smile, but try not to look concerned. Calm. Think calm.”
The door swings open. States people pour into the hallway. Despite years of training, confusion reigns as everyone races to the secure area. The panic radiating off the crowd grows as more people push and shove, trying to make their way to the front of the pack. Oliver drags me into the crush coming at us.
“Who’s attacking? The Splinter group?” I shout over the noise of the hallway and the alarm.
Oliver presses his lips together. “Humans.”
#
My guards and I are the last to cross the threshold before the door is bolted shut. The door scanner gathers our names from our wristlets and we move to the center of the room.
At the front, Mother and Annalise stand beside several dignitaries. But there’s no Kyra.
I search the room, but she’s nowhere.
Mother climbs the stage, and when she turns around, her face is somber.
She holds her green wristlet to her mouth. “Dear members, there’s nothing to worry about. We’ve experienced a small breach in the outer perimeter of security. While no Sensitives have been found in the building, we’re taking every precaution. We’ll remain here until the all-clear signal.”
It takes me a moment to process why Mother used the word Sensitive. Then I remember there are numerous humans in the building.
Shouts come from outside the secure room. Someone bangs on the door in a rapid pattern; a code no doubt, since we’ve been taught Sensitives steal wristlets and impersonate States people. An Enforcer I’ve never seen before holds his wristlet to the door scanner. The door swings open, and a man who I think is the head of building security collapses into the Enforcer’s arms. He’s bruised and his clothes are torn.
“What is this?” Mother demands, loud enough for everyone