his irritation. “I lost a child once.” He spoke brusquely, not masking his anger. “That little baby had his whole life ripped away from him.” There was a dripping, bloody feeling in the air, the memory clearly still raw. “So I became a father to the world. I want to make sure the children of today have a future. One that they choose, not one chosen for them.” He tilted his head as if he and Jamie were familiar, dropping his bone-chilling tone with ease as that enraging half-smile spread back to his lips. “Maybe soon you shall join us too and choose your own future?”

It took Jamie a moment to understand what he’d just heard. A siren wailed in the distance. It wasn’t until a metallic taste spread over his tongue that he realized he’d bitten his cheek.

“I would never join you.” But, even as he said this, comprehension spread through him, blossoming like a wound in his chest. This man was charming and dangerous, an anger in him that matched his own, and he could see how easy it would be to fall for it.

It’s all a lie, he told himself, but the fact that he even needed the reminder sent white-hot rage through him. How dare they force these questions on him?

A buzzing in his left pocket caught him off guard, a pesky distraction tickling his leg. His phone. He knew it was Lottie, but he couldn’t answer. With a flash he reached into his yukata, grasping one of Ingrid’s knives, and threw it at the shoulder of the Goat Man.

The bird registered the move, throwing out a cloaked arm to deflect the lethal weapon, and Jamie realized the cloak was padded armor, an intricate mesh to protect them. The knife ricocheted off the bird’s extended hand, but the force sent it flying into his own stomach.

The Goat Man gave no second look to the bird, who now clutched his bleeding wound. His mouth turned downward in a despondent frown. “How disappointing.”

The rabbit came at Jamie fast. Its mask was a hair’s breadth from his face. Diving out of the way, Jamie felt his foot meet with the edge of the rooftop, the world below swirling.

The roof door was blocked off by Leviathan; the only way out was down.

“Quick, isn’t he?” the Goat Man called with a laugh. “We made a deal, Jamie. So long as you do us no harm. I think it’s clear you broke that rule, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to come with us.”

It was surely intended as a distraction, and, sensing as much, Jamie pulled Ingrid’s other knife from his robe, holding it out defensively. “One step closer and I’ll jump.” He could feel the ledge, a purgatory between the humiliation of capture and the relief of escape. Below he could see a pile of garbage bags, a place to cushion the fall, but he could not let them see it on his face.

Still clutching his stomach, the bird looked up at him through the mask, and it was the strangest thing, as if his eyes were like beacons, beseeching him not to do it.

The Goat Man held up his hand in a false truce. “There’s no need for—”

“That’s mine!” Ingrid screamed, rushing forward as the others turned to her.

“Ingrid! No!” the rabbit screeched at her.

She came up slow and clumsy. With one quick swipe Jamie was falling.

It was so easy, a floating sense of acceptance, the wind whistling past in a soothing welcome, the descent singing like a lullaby. If he chose, he could have simply let go, let himself meet the ground in one final sigh, but that was not his plan.

Pushing hard off the brick wall, he landed in a brace position over the pile of rubbish, the stench thick and grotesque as the air rushed out of his lungs, his bones shaking.

As he hit the ground, his face raised to the sky, the world slid out of focus and the clouds opened and it began to rain.

18

“THIS IS CERTAINLY A SURPRISE.” Deep gasps racked Saskia, her hands on her hips. It wasn’t exhaustion; she was relieved.

Disheveled and confused, the Rosewood students struggled to make sense of what was in front of them.

“Okay,” Anastacia declared, trying her best to tame her wild mane of hair after the motorbike restyling they’d all received. “Can we agree right now that I never have to touch a motorbike again?”

Peeling lemon and lime tiles surrounded them, the chipped ceramic spilling off the empty pool. The room felt too bright, shrinking Lottie’s pupils and making her eyes sting, tears dripping down her wind-pinched cheeks. Ellie held her in the crook of her arm while she stared down their saviors.

Four familiar faces: Rio, Miko, Wei, and their Pink Demon leader in all her ethereal glory. Sayuri.

Release, that’s what she wanted to feel, but Lottie could only think of Jamie, how careless they’d been with him, that he was all alone.

“Jamie still hasn’t answered. We have to find him,” she said again, sniffing hard. “We shouldn’t have left him alone. I’m so stupid. We should have helped him, not left him. I’m so—”

“Your Partizan can fend for himself.” Sayuri’s voice was unrecognizable—fiery and intense. “We have more pressing matters at hand.”

“Haru too,” Lottie began. Her worry was so sharp she could taste it in the back of her throat, salty and bitter. “Haru’s in trouble. We have to go after them.”

A sour smirk tore across Rio’s face, Miko by his side tutting.

“Haru is part of Leviathan,” Sayuri said calmly, no emotion to be found in the terrible statement.

A pressure was building in the air, a static intensity, and in the distance came a low rumble.

Saskia’s eyes sparked with fury. “What? How long have you known this?”

Haru, the friendly boy whose smile radiated warmth, the boy who’d even charmed Jamie, someone he trusted. It was too horrible; Lottie couldn’t make sense of it.

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