Her mind was too slow, dripping like syrup from a spoon—sticky and languorous. She had no chance to react before he pressed her finger to the trigger and the gun exploded in her hands. The sound was sharper than a crack of the whip, bouncing around in her head, echoing over and over until she thought it would be the only sound she would ever hear again.
Her eyes darted to Jason’s chest, sure that blood would be spreading across it, like a crimson flower blooming across his chest. But there was—nothing. She lifted her gaze and found him looking at her with a mocking smile. He held out his hand between them and slowly unfurled his long, elegant fingers. Lying on the palm of his hand was a flattened metal disk, still glowing red with the heat of his Gift.
“Even their most powerful weapons would have no effect against us. The Norms could turn a million guns against us, and a Terra would have the Earth swallow them whole. An Atmospheric would turn their bullets back at them, an Inferno would melt the guns in their hands, and an Oceanic would create a tsunami to crest over them. The Norms should be grateful that we live peacefully alongside them, that our minds have never turned to war.”
The weight of his words sank slowly, turning her blood to ice. She opened her mouth to speak, to argue, but words escaped her, leaving her gaping like a fish out of water. Jason watched her silently and then gave a small shake of his head, bored with her lack of response. He turned away, arrogance dripping from every inch of him, the very picture of Gifted privilege, and for once, she understood it. Why would he feel anything other than arrogance when he held the power to destroy at his fingertips?
* * *
Armed with a bottle of tequila, Jason and Allyra wandered down to the private beach at the back of the house. Unobstructed by the trees, the moonlight flooded over the pristine stretch of white sand and danced on the gentle waves of the ocean, creating a mirage of glittering diamonds.
The fierce heat of summer had passed, and autumn announced its arrival with a new bite in the air, carried over the ocean surface. Allyra rubbed her arms, trying to chase away the tiny goose bumps on her skin.
Jason handed her the bottle. “Here—a few mouthfuls and you won’t feel the chill.”
Allyra took a tentative sip and nearly spat out the contents as it burned down her throat like rocket fuel. “That’s disgusting,” she choked out. A cellar full of expensive alcohol and this was what he chose?
“It gets better the more you drink.”
“Another life lesson?” she asked sarcastically.
“I do possess an overabundance of them. Stick with me, little bird, and I will show you the secrets of the world,” he singsonged at her.
She rolled her eyes at him and took a larger sip from the bottle. Now that she expected the gasoline-like taste, it went down a little easier, and a gentle warmth blossomed into life within her.
Jason took the bottle back from her and took a large gulp from it. He sank into the sand, lying on his back and staring up at the stars. Now that the breaking and entering portion of the evening had concluded, he seemed content to fall into the stillness of the night.
Allyra sat down beside him, but the silence pressed in on her, pushing the air from her lungs and making her skin crawl with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool temperature. Without the fury of adrenaline surging through her veins, she could no longer forget the horror of Chi’s broken body. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes as if it might physically dispel the awful image from her mind.
As if he could read her mind, Jason said quietly, “Don’t torture yourself. Death is a part of The Five Finals. Chi knew that, and he chose it anyway. You did everything you could’ve to save him.”
“Did I?” Allyra spat out the words. She was angry—at herself, at The Five Finals, at the world in general. It burned brighter than molten gold, raging through her mind, melting away all reason and logic.
“Did I?” she repeated, “Did anyone? There’s no reason for his death. They could’ve stopped it—they could’ve acted sooner. They simply chose not to.”
“Those aren’t the rules and you know it.”
“Screw the rules. What’s the point of all this?” she shouted, unreasonably focusing her anger on Jason. “The Five Finals is utterly pointless. It’s archaic and barbaric, and I can’t understand how you all just put up with it.”
Her voice cracked as the red-hot fury burned itself to cinders. “All it does is set people against each other and cut short lives that might have grown to be so much more.”
Allyra gulped, unable to continue as she remembered the contradiction that was Chi—his incredible intellect and thirst for knowledge, set against a childish naiveté. His kindness combined with a burning desire to succeed. Her grief for Chi coalesced into older pain, like little drops of oil combining into a larger, more monstrous one until she could no longer tell just whom she was grieving for.
She took a deep breath, her voice more controlled as she spoke again. “Maybe one day Jeong will look back on The Five Finals and realize he sacrificed Chi’s life for no more than petty dislike and a chance at winning this ridiculous, outdated competition. Maybe guilt will finally overtake him and then what?” Allyra held up the tequila bottle, took a large gulp from it, and then answered her own question. “Perhaps a steady slide into alcoholism? Whatever happens, there are no winners here.”
Jason didn’t seem to have an answer for her, and they sat on
