War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,116

post anyone would envy.

The guards of New Town are far weaker than any enemy I’m used to. And they have no idea we’re already here.

Cameron’s father looks her over, thoughtful as we walk. I shiver when his gaze passes over me, then back to his daughter. “So it’s true, then. You’re something . . . different.”

I wonder what he’s heard. What the Scarlet Guard told their contacts in New Town. Maven’s propaganda and poisoned broadcasts made clear the existence of newbloods. Does he know what his daughter can do?

She holds his stare, his equal. “I am,” she says without flinching.

“You walk with the lightning girl.”

“I do,” she replies.

“And this is . . . ?” he adds, eyeing Kilorn.

With a loopy grin, Kilorn touches his brow and angles himself into a shallow bow. “I’m the muscle.”

Mr. Cole almost laughs as he takes in Kilorn’s tall but lean form. “Sure, kid.”

The buildings around us grow higher, stacked precariously. There are cracks in the walls and windows, and every block needs a fresh coat of paint—or just the good wash of a rainstorm. The workers around us start to peel off, heading into different apartment structures with waves and calls. Nothing seems amiss.

“We’re grateful for your help, Mr. Cole,” I say under my breath, keeping my focus ahead. A few Silver guards stand on an arch some yards away, and I lower my face as we pass.

“Thank the elders, not me,” Mr. Cole answers. He doesn’t bother hiding from the guards. He’s nothing to them. “They’ve been ready for this for a long time.”

My throat tightens in shame. “Because someone should have done something a long time ago.” Someone like you, Tiberias. You knew these places existed, and for who. For what.

Cameron grits her teeth. “At least we’re doing something now.” At her side, she clenches a fist. With her ability, she could kill the two guards above us if she wanted. Drop them right off the arch.

But we pass by without incident, stepping into the shadow of the slouching, gray slum apartment building at the end of the residential street. It looks like the toy blocks of a giant child, piled high against the hazy blue. One section is taller than the rest, dotted with grimy, dim windows.

It’s where we need to be.

Mr. Cole glances at me, then at the structure. “Up you go, lightning girl,” he says, his voice soft. “Get high, get loud. That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble. Already I call to the lightning, feeling it respond deep in my bones.

When we reach the base of the building, we’re almost alone on the street, joined only by shift stragglers. Cameron turns to her father, eyes wide. “How much time do we have?”

He turns over his wrist and glances at his watch. Then Mr. Cole frowns, the lines cutting deep. “None,” he says. “You have to go.”

She blinks rapidly, her jaw working. “Okay.”

“Sir, I believe this is yours,” Kilorn says, reaching into his jacket. He pulls free a small pistol, and extra rounds of ammunition, neat in their case.

Mr. Cole looks at the gun like a snake that might bite. He hesitates, until Cameron takes it from Kilorn and presses it to his chest. She widens her eyes, pleading.

“Point and click, Daddy. Don’t hesitate,” she says with furious need. “Silvers won’t.”

Slowly, gingerly, he tucks the gun away into the satchel at his side. As he turns, I catch sight of the tattoo on his neck.

“Fine,” he breathes, dazed. I think all this is starting to catch up with him. Then he clears his throat. “The new-shift techs at the hub are informed. They’ll power down the city with your first strike, after the signal crosstown. Coordinate the systematic shutoff with your storm. Silvers won’t know we’re in on it. Buy some time.”

This part of the plan was eagerly arranged by both the Scarlet Guard and their contacts within the slum city.

“Everyone knows about the charges?” I ask, if only to be sure. The Scarlet Guard who slipped in with us are already scattered around the city, planting their bombs. Laying our traps.

Cole’s expression darkens and he scowls. “Everyone who can be trusted. We might have our own resistance, but we’ve got informants all over.”

I swallow hard, trying not to think what might happen if the wrong person knew what was about to happen. Maven himself might descend on New Town and crush our insurgency. Bring this poisoned, polluted ground smashing down on us all. And if we fail