to part with when you began this journey. Your Handlers will die, as will you, Jack. Leaving your beloved Fleur alone on the battlefield to grieve for you.”
“You’re lying,” I bite out, angling away from Julio and Fleur so they won’t hear. Our Handlers are long gone. Chronos has no idea what he’s talking about.
“I’ve seen it, Jack,” he says with feigned sympathy. “But I don’t need to show you your future to prove myself. Deep in your gut, you already know it’s true. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have insisted they leave you.” I feel the blood drain from my face. “But that’s of no consequence. One of them is already ill; her days are numbered. As for the other . . .” Chronos clucks his tongue. “I was surprised such a timid young man would choose to die defending you.”
I disconnect, unwilling to listen anymore. I cross the lobby and set the phone down on the desk. The receptionist watches, clutching her necklace as we retreat back through the visitors’ lounge.
Chronos is wrong. Chill and Poppy will be fine. Our Handlers are long gone. He’s wrong about the ending.
I throw open the door to the courtyard, Julio and Fleur following close behind.
“What did he say?” Fleur asks, the second the door shuts behind us.
“He wants us to surrender.” There’s no point in telling her any more. It’ll only upset her. We’ve got enough to worry about right now.
Julio spins me around. “Did he say anything about Amber?”
I shake my head. The air outside smells like creosote and hot concrete after the rain. Every trace of Amber has been washed clean away. Julio throws a fist against the brick wall, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Fleur wraps her hands around his bleeding knuckles, holding them fast even when he tries to pull away.
Through the window, the receptionist casts wary glances at us. She picks up the front desk phone, tucking the receiver against her shoulder as she dials. The TV screen on the wall projects an image of the bar in Arkansas, along with four artist sketches and descriptions of each of us.
“We have to go,” I tell them. The sooner we get off the grounds, away from here, the better off we’ll be.
Fleur holds tightly to Julio, her voice low and soothing. “Let’s go back to the car,” she says. “Maybe Amber’s there.”
I lead them around the far wing of the building toward the street where we parked, but the sidewalk is empty. Amber’s nowhere I can see or smell. We can’t stay here any longer. Not while Chronos’s Guards are so close.
“Now what?” Julio paces beside the car. “Where would they go? Where would they take her?”
I meet Fleur’s eyes. Someone has to say it.
“What?” Julio asks, holding a thin leash on his rage. “Whatever you’re thinking, spit it out, Sommers!”
“They won’t take her anywhere,” I say, hating myself for the stricken look on Fleur’s face. “They won’t risk losing us again. Their orders are to Terminate us. He won’t be satisfied until we’re in the wind.”
Julio backs away, shaking his head. His voice breaks when he finds it. “No. She’s here. I know she’s still here.”
A swirl of hot wind tosses loose trash over the street. Fleur reaches for him, but he won’t let her touch him. I can feel her panic taking root as she watches Julio back farther away from the car.
The keys bite into my palm. “She’s gone, Julio. It’s not safe. We can’t stay here.”
Heat lightning flickers in the distance. Reflects in the tears in his eyes. He pounds his chest with his fist. “I would feel it if she were gone. I would know it!”
Fleur’s eyes widen on something behind me. I look over my shoulder as a police car eases to a stop at a red light at the end of the block. “Come with us,” she pleads with Julio. “We’ll figure something out, but Jack’s right. We have to go now.”
Julio just keeps backing away, until he’s standing in the center of the four-lane road, his fingers laced behind his head, eyes closed and face to the sky like he’s praying. The traffic light turns green. Blue lights flash as the police car accelerates toward us.
“Get in the car, Fleur.” My door is already open, one foot inside, the other cemented to the sidewalk. Fleur runs to the passenger side, gets in, and slams the door. “Julio, come on!” I holler.
The patrol car siren whoops twice. Julio spins,