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“Now, I’ll leave you to your visions,” Holly announced dreamily to the group. “See what new heights you can reach, and then we’ll discuss your next steps towards your destiny.”

She crooked a finger at Kimmy and me, and we followed her back to the cellar. Another terrible thought occurred to me on the way, as I remembered a particular detail from Holly’s original note: perhaps you’re aware of the Sire’s similarities to a prince we both know. Did that mean Julius was also invincible? Fuck.

I asked Holly exactly that as soon as we were out of earshot of the still-fucked-up initiates.

“I don’t know,” was her reply, which didn’t make me feel better. “I don’t know anything for sure, but it seems to me like…like Jim J takes more than he’s supposed to. I don’t know if the invincibility is actually supposed to happen or not.”

“So, you don’t know if he’s able to be killed?” Kimmy asked, frowning. “Because that’s pretty fucking important.”

Holly shrugged.

“Only one way to find out,” I sighed, and Kimmy clenched her jaw, looking irritated.

“John, you—”

“Now’s not the time,” I cut across her, then turned back to Holly. “What now?”

Holly gave me an odd look in response.

“That was it, Wastelander,” she said, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “The rest is up to you.”

“What are you expecting us to do?” Kimmy said, shooting her another look of disbelief. “Or, what did you expect Claire to do? Single-handedly take down your immortal daddy? How? And when you all tried to kill her, more than once?”

“That man is not my father,” Holly snapped back, and I rolled my eyes. It was telling to me that that was what she was offended by.

“As usual,” I said, not bothering to hide my disgust, “she expected her big sister to jump in and feel bad for her and try to make it all better, because Mom doesn’t give a shit and won’t listen. That sound right to you, princess?”

Holly glowered at me. “You have no idea what I’m risking here, or what I’ve risked to help Claire before.”

“Yeah, I do,” I said with a shrug. “I just don’t give a shit. You’re a spoiled brat who was always Mom’s favourite, and now you’re trying to keep that status while throwing breadcrumbs to your sister. Don’t ever think we’re friends. You were on my list the first time I saw your sister cry over your worthless ass.”

Kimmy and I had turned toward the stairs when Holly said, “I have no choice. Sister or not, they’ll kill me if they know I helped her again.”

“I’m not the person you need to prove yourself to,” I replied, flashing her a sarcastic smile. “See, if someone said I had to betray my sister or die, I’d be fucking dead.”

The corner of Kimmy’s mouth turned up, amused, and we left the cellar without a backward glance.

Chapter 22

Claire

Claire

On Friday night, I waited until it was late before I put my plan into motion. Over the last few weeks, I’d carefully observed Major Hamilton’s movements while I was in the house. I knew he’d moved into the security room on the main floor full-time, because he never went home. The security room had screens that showed a live feed of all the cameras, which he watched periodically, along with a small single cot that’d clearly been shoved into a corner at the last minute. Otherwise, he lived out of a large suitcase.

I knew he had difficulty sleeping, because I often heard his footsteps on the floor below after I was in bed. It didn’t surprise me. Between his injured niece and his career as a soldier, who knew what sort of nightmares visited him?

I tried not to think about that as I got ready in front of the mirror in the ensuite bathroom. I tied my bathrobe, then mussed my hair to look as though I’d been sleeping, even though I’d been wide awake since I went to bed three hours before.

My heart pounded in my ears as I looked at myself in the mirror. Am I really going to do this? I thought of the fact that Hamilton was the only one who’d ever been decent to me at the Delta, how he’d done his best to keep me safe and deal with the bad hand he’d been dealt. I thought of his niece, Maya, and her beautiful black eyelashes that stood out against her cheek.

But then I thought of Julius, and the cannibals, and all the pain that the Omega Corporation had caused, the extent of which I still didn’t know. I thought of all the people who’d lost their loved ones, given only flimsy explanations about their deaths or disappearances. I pictured my father: his warm smile; gentle singing voice; and the way his brow creased when he was concentrating hard on a painting. I thought of the world he’d wanted for me, and how he’d tried to teach me to be good, even when the regime we lived under was anything but.

I thought of John, and Kimmy, and Summerhurst. If doing this brought me closer to going home with my family, it was worth any risk. And finally, I thought of thirteen-year-old Claire, devastated by her loss, and I owed it to her to find out what happened to the only person in the world who really loved her.

Tucking the pill bottle into the pocket of my robe, I made my way downstairs into the kitchen. No staff were up at this hour, and I purposefully made a lot of noise as I opened the refrigerator and retrieved a saucepan from a cupboard. I assembled synthetic cocoa, milk, and sugar, and began to cook them on the stove.

Just as steam was rising from the pan, I reached into my pocket and dumped my remaining sleeping pills into the mixture—the ones leftover from my ear surgery. I’d ground them down to a powder, and as they dissolved, I added more sugar and cocoa to mask any off-flavours.