Poison Princess

—La Luna. She’s the Moon Card. The Archer.—

So if every Arcana had supernatural powers, hers was archery? The Olympics frowns on performance enhancers, Selena. Or it’d used to. “Meeting her was wild,” I told Matthew. “I heard her call so clearly, then poof, her voice in my head went silent. And when we first met, I saw something flash over her, like a picture.”

—Tableau. A card. How we recognize each other. But Evie . . .—

“I knew it. I’ve been hearing her voice for months, and now I’m in her house? This is too weird.” I stretched my arms over my head, surprised my migraine wasn’t worse. The pain was manageable —even though he sounded much louder than normal. Had I cut some of the distance between us?

“So is the Moon good? Or evil, like Ogen?” I wished Matthew would say she was just like El Diablo, or worse than! I’d be forced to get Jackson away from her.

—Good or evil?— Matthew sounded confused by my question. —She’s the Moon. But Empress, we need to talk . . .—

“What’s up?” Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and eased to my feet.

The bed disappeared behind me.

“Matthew?”

I was no longer in Selena’s guest room. I found myself standing with Matthew in his basement playroom, but water was rising around our calves. His khaki pants and long-sleeved button-down were soaking wet. He was shivering.

A flashlight burned from a peg on a nearby wall, allowing me to see him clearly. His face and hair were dripping, his brows drawn together.

I’d known he had even features and deep brown eyes. But now I could see lighter flecks in his eyes, could gauge the strength of his lean physique. He was almost as tall as Jackson.

“Why are we down here and where’s all this water coming from?” Obviously, there were still big reserves of water out in the world—we just had to find one.

Then secure it.

“Tremors,” he said. “Pipe burst. Water tower.”

“Then the whole place could flood?” When he nodded, I said, “Matthew, you have to leave this room immediately!”

He remained motionless, like a dog that had been commanded to sit in the middle of a busy freeway. “Can’t.” He looked so pitiful, so lost, his big brown eyes darting.

“Yes, you can! Get out now,” I ordered him, wishing I could shake his shoulders. The protectiveness I felt for him staggered me.

Beanbags floated past our legs as the water steadily rose. “Can’t,” he repeated. “Mother locked me in.”

“Why would she do that to you? Does she know your basement is flooding?”

He nodded. How could she condemn him to drown?

“Mother knows what’s b-best for Matthew.” He rubbed his palms over his upper arms. “Mother knows I won’t stay in the car. Shouldn’t have fixed engine. Bad, Matthew, BAD!”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying! Kid, just listen to me. Is there a window? There has to be a way out! You’re strong—go break down the door!”

“Clock stops. Don’t have to see the future to know that.”

“What does that mean? Like, you’ll die?” The idea rocked me. I had this friend out in the world waiting for me. Now I was going to lose him?

“Mother’s dead. I follow.”

No, he can’t die! “I’m coming for you! Where are you?” Please be close enough for me to reach in time. . . .

He gave me a sad smile. “I’ve always been on your way.” The vision wavered, then changed to a time before the Flash.

He was in a backyard, at a barbecue with other kids, but they wouldn’t talk to him. So he wandered off, standing all alone as a rocket blasted off in the distance.

“Rocket? Oh, dear God, you’re in Houston! Or . . . or Florida!” Just as I started to despair, I saw a hilly dirt road scored with washboard ruts. Hilly?

Then I clearly saw the T-shirt he’d worn. HUNTSVILLE SPACE CAMP. “Huntsville! In Alabama?” Only one state over.

But all the way north.

“Matthew, how long ago did it start flooding?”

“Couple of hours.” So roughly one foot every two hours. Maybe?

I could make it to Huntsville in time—if I could talk Jackson into driving me and the winds cooperated. “I’m coming for you, kid. Just hang on!”

Once the vision faded, I hurried to dress in another borrowed outfit—jeans too tight over my ass and too long and a T-shirt. I yanked on my damp boots over a pair of spotlessly white socks.

Minutes later, I was jogging down the stairs with my packed bug-out bag.

I found Jackson in the kitchen, shirtless, wearing only his new jeans. He sat with his head in his hand at the breakfast counter, while Selena—clad in a short silk robe—happily scrambled powdered eggs for them.

She poured him a tall glass of some orange drink, then doused it with a healthy splash from a vodka bottle. He took the drink without a word, blearily downing half of it in one gulp.

When she rubbed a knuckle in his hair, I realized that I was probably witnessing their morning after. And I wanted to vomit.

This domestic scene dashed any lingering hope that Jackson wouldn’t sleep with her. He’d found a girl who would “put out.” And I knew he would never leave this Shangri-la of hunting and gourmet food and sex.

Not for the irritating former cheerleader who couldn’t heat soup. The one who always made things so difficult for him. The miserable tease.

But for Matthew’s sake, I would still try to get Jackson’s help. Even if he didn’t pick me.

Hoping to ward off my tears, I assumed a cheery air. “Good morning, guys.”

He swiped his forearm over his mouth. In a murderous tone, he said, “Where you goan, Evangeline?”

“Same place I’ve always been going, Jackson.” Just need to make a quick stop on the way to save a boy’s life.

Selena sat at the counter and crossed her long legs, unconcerned when her robe split all the way to her upper thighs. But hey, Jackson had already seen the goods, right? “Evie, I talked it over with J.D. last night—and you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. Like, even permanently.”

They had talked it over, and they were extending the invitation. My claws tingled—as if they were waking up. “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get going.”

“You’d really leave all this food and water behind?” she asked. “The electricity and security?”

Yes, her estate was perfect. Too perfect. A place like this could tempt a girl from her mission if she wasn’t careful.

“North Carolina is cannibal and plague territory,” she continued. “What’s the rush?” She seemed very serious about getting to the bottom of this.

Jackson hadn’t told her the details? Not during their beer binge last night, or their—what was it called—their pillow talk?

I had to admit I was surprised. “Like I said last night, I’m going to join my grandmother there. I belong with her.”

Selena took a sip of Jackson’s drink. “Why would you believe she’s still alive? I hate to say this, but she’s probably not, you know?”

Jackson threw his hands up. “Just what I told her!”

“There’s got to be more to this than a long-lost granny,” Selena said. “She’d never want you to sacrifice the safety you could find here just to try to locate her. All that’s out there is death and more death.”

—The water’s rising!— Matthew called, making my head throb.

Fighting for focus, I muttered, “She is alive.”