“Hey.” Chance sounded surprised. “Hey, Tory. It’s okay.”
My head never rose. I was exhausted, demoralized, and bereft of hope. Reserves gone, I sobbed into my hands, releasing months of caged tension, a deluge of faded hopes and realized fears spilling from me in an ugly rush.
A hand on my shoulder. Another slipping around my waist.
Chance gently lifted me from his chair and lowered me to the floor, cradling my body like a child’s. I sniveled, unable to control my emotions. He held me for what seemed like forever, stroking my hair, whispering soft words I didn’t comprehend.
When the tears were finally spent, I pulled back, face streaked, looking and feeling like the world’s biggest basket case.
Chance’s face was inches from mine, his strong arms still wrapped around my shoulders.
Dark eyes. Dark lashes. I’d never seen a more beautiful man.
He lifted my chin in his hand. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to cure you.”
I don’t know what came over me.
I launched forward, crushing my mouth against his.
Chance toppled backward, my weight hitting his chest as our lips met. Then he squeezed me tight, pulling my body closer.
An electric heat spread from head to toe.
Unbidden, my mind compared Chance to Ben. Chance was bolder, his entire bearing self-assured as he held me close. Ben had been fumbling and hesitant. Chance hungrily devoured my kiss with an urgency I’d never felt before.
What is wrong with you!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!
I broke away. Scrambled back against the wall.
Chance sat up, confused. “Tory, it’s okay.”
“No. I . . . we . . .” I ran a hand through my hair, eyes widening at the thought of what Ben would say. Or do. “We can’t.”
“We can,” Chance insisted, frustrated, one hand extending toward me. “We should!”
What is it with me and floors? The notion nearly sent me into hysterics.
Rising quickly, I hurried for the door. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
I fled the office before he could speak another word.
I made it back to Bolton in record time.
Distracted, I walked right past the gate. Might’ve strolled on into the harbor had Hi and Shelton not been watching for me.
“Yo, Brennan!” Hi waved at me from where they lingered in the courtyard. “Get in here, quick. Headmaster Paugh is on patrol.”
I slipped inside, joined them beside a bubbling fountain. Then my cheeks flushed scarlet.
Two make-out sessions in two days, with two different guys.
Should I track down Jason and take the Triple Crown?
“You okay, Tory?” Shelton edged closer, eyes worried. “Chance have bad news?”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Opted for a half-truth. “Chance had more lab results.”
Technically accurate.
“He’s still trying to figure out what’s going on with our DNA.”
Also true, as far as it went.
Shelton nodded, mollified. “I’m worried about these Trinity jokers. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast. Like ninja meth-heads.”
“Tell me about it.” Hi rubbed a purple blotch on his cheek. “Speckman’s not much bigger than Chance, but his flare strength was through the roof. Next time, we need a better plan than shipboard wrestling after dark.”
“True that.” Shelton slumped against the stonework, rubbing his side. “My ribs are killing me. I just wish we’d spotted the girl. I didn’t get a look.”
Another fact I knew, but didn’t share. The info I was withholding had begun to pile up. Made me sick to my stomach. I’d yelled at Chance for the exact same thing.
But I couldn’t accuse Ella without proof. Things would get too crazy.
So get proof. Do something useful.
“I need to run by my locker.” When the boys began to follow, I held up a hand to stop them. “Then I’m hitting the ladies’ room. I’ll catch up with you after.”
They nodded, settled back down by the fountain. Began arguing about Lost for the millionth time.
Hurrying through the massive front doors, I headed for the cafeteria.
Ella would be having lunch.
It was time to force the issue.
• • •
She was eating alone in our spot. Taking a deep breath, I approached.
Ella spotted me halfway and waved. I waved back.
“Hey, Tory.” Smiling sweetly, she kicked out the chair beside her. “Join the party.”
I ignored it, circling and taking a seat across the table. “We need to talk.”
“Oh? What’s on your mind?” Her expression remained pleasant, but I didn’t miss her narrowing eyes. Any final doubts died in that instant.
I looked her dead in the face. “You’ve got quite a kick.”
Ella paused a beat. Then her lips twisted cruelly. “Of course I do.”
She sat back, folding her arms over her chest. “I was less impressed with you.”
My fist hit the table. I struggled to keep from shouting. “What the hell, Ella? Why?”
The smile vanished. Ella’s emerald eyes glittered with malice. “Are you serious? You’re asking why, after everything you’ve done to me?”
My mouth dropped open in genuine bafflement. “Done to you? What are you talking about? I—” a quick scan of the room to make sure we weren’t being observed, “—rescued you. And nearly got killed in the process!”
“You’re the only reason I was kidnapped in the first place!” Ella hissed. “Knocked out, and stuffed in a car trunk!” Her voice quavered. “Held in a pit for three days, by a psychopath, because of you.”
Each word was a punch to my soul. Not least because they were true.
When the Gable twins had been abducted, I’d demanded the Virals get involved. During the investigation I’d shared some of my theories with Ella, inadvertently making her a target.
I hadn’t known it would happen, but it did.
“You know I feel terrible about that,” I said quietly.
“Oh gee, thanks!” Ella snorted without humor. “I’ll cancel my therapy.”
The surreal nature of our conversation washed over me. We were discussing a rain shower while lightning crashed down around us.
My voice dropped another notch. “Ella, how did you learn to flare?”
“Another disaster I have you to thank for,” she spat. “You’re a disease, Tory Brennan.”
I brushed the insult aside, though I knew it would hurt later. “I don’t understand.”
Ella looked away. “Why should I tell you anything? I’m surprised you figured out this much.”
It was my turn to lean forward. “We’re in this together, Ella. You and the rest of the Trinity. Me and my Morris Island pack. Even Chance. We’re all Viral.”
“We’re in it all right,” Ella replied coldly, “but not together.”
I nearly slapped my forehead. “How can you say that? We have to help each other!”
“Like you and Chance do?” Biting a thumbnail, she flashed a mocking smile. “He hasn’t told you the whole story yet. It’s obvious with every word you say.”
I tried to keep my voice steady. “What do you mean?”
Ella watched me silently, then shook her head. I could tell she wouldn’t answer.
I stared at her, stunned by the ugly transformation in my friend.
Ella smiled slyly, taunting me. “Who were you guessing? Ashley Bodford? Tripod becomes Trinity, eh? That was Will’s bright idea, but I thought it’d be funnier if you suspected Jason and Madison. So I tricked them into avoiding you, told them their relationship made you extremely uncomfortable. You really needed space. Worked like a charm.”
 
; I gaped. Fumbled for words. “How . . . how did you became Viral?”
Ella shrugged, as if we were confidantes at Sunday tea. “I met Will Speckman a few days after our . . . incident. We went to the same counseling center.” Ella rolled her sparkling green eyes. “Will has his own issues—talk about paranoid!—but he was super excited about his new job assisting the great Chance Claybourne. I was curious, but he wouldn’t talk about their little project. Said the work was too important. Top secret. Life changing. Yada yada yada.”
Ella rubbed her arms, eyes growing distant. “I never took his boasting seriously. But I learned my mistake pretty quickly, didn’t I? And you should’ve seen Will after he got fired.”
My shoulders slumped. “So you were infected by Speckman.”
“Or his charming roommate,” Ella chirped with false gaiety. “Who knows? Cole caught the virus soon after Will. I wasn’t infected until weeks later, after my time in that cell. Will still can’t figure out how, not that it matters anymore.”
I felt sick. “I’m so sorry, Ella.”
She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I was puking for days. If Will hadn’t talked me through it—hadn’t been there to explain what was happening . . .” She shuddered. “I’d have gone to a hospital. Gotten tests run. Ended up in a cage.”
Her eyes found mine. No warmth there. “Will had already transitioned, you see. He and Chance were trading notes, so Will already knew the score. Knew how to protect me. How to guide me through the changes. He’d done it once with Cole already.”
Speckman and Chance spoke? When? How often? What did Chance tell him?
“Did anyone else get sick?” My mind reeled at the implications.
“No.” Ella waved my question away, seemed irritated by her own compulsion to answer me. “The three of us went camping for a weekend. I didn’t know his jackass roommate was coming until after I got there. Then I got sick, way out in the woods. Will must’ve suspected the supervirus immediately, because he kept us there an extra day. When I recovered, they showed me what they could do. What I could do.”
Flaring. I crunched numbers in my head. Ella had gained control over her powers much sooner than my pack. Cole and Speckman as well. Chance, too, now that I thought about it.
Ella must’ve read my thoughts.
She leaned across the table, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr. “Yes, Tory. We learned quickly. We’re stronger and faster than you and your friends. Whatever Will and Chance cooked up, the second batch had more kick than the original.”
Ella winked, but not in friendship. I barely recognized my friend, sitting across from me with a spiteful glare. She’d borne this secret for weeks. Hid it from me every day. The depth of her scheming astounded me—to meticulously plan my downfall with such dedication, all while flawlessly pretending to be my best friend.
She torched my bunker.
With growing dismay, I realized how deep a grudge Ella must carry.
I chose my next words carefully. “I’m very sorry for what happened, Ella. All of it. And, yes, it was my fault. I thought you understood that I couldn’t have foreseen how events would play out, and that I did everything possible afterward to make things right. I guess I was wrong.”
Ella flinched the slightest bit. Her eyes found the tabletop.
I pressed ahead. “I’ve been Viral for over a year, with only the Morris Island boys to share it with. It’s been a blessing and a curse. I’m sorry you got dragged into this situation, truly. But my hope is that we can all work together, and get past this silly feud. There’s a bigger threat out there.”
That the Trinity seemed to be working with that threat, I left unsaid.
Ella hesitated, eyes glazing as her focus turned inward. Then she shook her head sharply, as if dismissing a foolish notion. “Like I said, you don’t understand. My pack needs to protect itself. That means you guys have to take the fall.”
She half rose, lifting her tray. “Don’t cross me again, Tory. You won’t like what happens. Your crew dodged Will’s stupid traps, so that nonsense is over with, but don’t come running to us for help. I won’t pretend to love what’s happening, but your pack deserves to pay the bill, not mine.”
I grabbed her arm. “Deserves what, Ella? What’s going on? Who is chasing us?”
She pulled away with a condescending headshake. “You see? Clueless.”
I popped up and shouted at her back. “Who was on the Yorktown last night?”
Ella called over her shoulder without turning.
“You should really talk to Chance.”
• • •
After school, I told Shelton and Hi everything.
I apologized for holding out, then spilled my guts. About Ella. Her warnings about Chance. Every last suspicion I harbored. Even Chance’s dire prediction about the supervirus.
I was tired of keeping secrets from friends. Had my fill of betrayal.
It was time to lean on the people I trusted most.
Except the kissing stuff, of course. I wasn’t crazy.
“We gotta tell Ben.” Shelton sat on the curb, looking shell-shocked. “He deserves to know, too.”
“But delicately,” Hi advised with a wince. “Might take some finesse.”
“Terminal?” Shelton looked at me with frightened eyes. “Is Chance sure?”
“No.” I dropped down beside Shelton and clasped his hand in mine. “He’s not sure. And he’s working on a cure as we speak. Don’t worry—one way or another, we’re going to be fine. I promise.”
Shelton nodded. Some of the tension left his shoulders.
“Let’s get to the marina.” Hi removed his blazer and tossed it over one shoulder. “We’ll call Ben and tell him to drive over to his dad’s place, then hammer out a plan.”
“Should we invite Chance?” Shelton asked.
Both boys looked at me.
“Not this time,” I said. “Tonight’s meeting is Morris Islanders only.”
I glanced down Broad Street. Not five blocks away sat Claybourne Manor, the largest private residence in the state. Home to Charleston’s richest bachelor.
A boy with secrets.
A boy I’d kissed just hours earlier.
I’m done being played, Claybourne.
“Next time we see Chance,” I vowed, “we’ll have the upper hand.”
For the first time in forever, I went straight home from school.
I was dead tired. No sleep the night before, then Chance. Then my showdown with Ella. All my reserves were gone. I needed a nap in the worst way.
So of course it didn’t happen.
Coop tipped me off as I walked through the door, greeting me silently and glancing over his shoulder. Kit and Whitney were sitting in the living room.
Great.
Spotting me, they practically jumped. For some reason I was sure they’d been arguing.
“Hey, kiddo.” Kit rose, conjuring up a smile, hands locking behind his back. After an awkward moment he sat back down. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Kit, I don’t . . .” Whitney glanced at me, then down at her lap. She’d gotten better at not inserting herself into father-daughter discussions, but this felt different somehow.
I was too exhausted to play along. “Out with it.”
Kit started. “What do you mean? I just wanted—”
Dropping my bag, I knelt to scratch Cooper’s ears. “Guys, this is becoming ridiculous. You’re getting married. I support that. But the silly dance we do every time you need to tell me something I might not like? It’s tired. I’m tired.”
“Then we can discuss this another time,” Whitney said firmly, standing and shooting Kit a pointed look. In that moment it occurred to me that I’d never really seen her angry with my father. Was this what it looked like? If so, good for her.
Bu
t delay was not a solution. “No, it’s fine. Just say what you want to say.”
Kit took a deep breath. “How would you feel about moving?”
I blinked. Felt the walls close in around me.
“Not far!” Kit added in a rush. “I’m not talking about leaving Charleston, or anything drastic. But lately I’ve been thinking—maybe we need a home with a little more space?”
I started to breath again. “More space?”
Then it hit me. My eyes found the ceiling. “You mean Whitney’s townhouse, in the city.”
Their exchanged glance was all the confirmation I needed.
“I take it the repairs are finished.”
Whitney nodded, her posture rigid. I could tell she was worried I’d explode.
As a lump built in my throat, I tried to think rationally. “Your place has like, what, four bedrooms? Each with its own bathroom?”
Another quick Whitney head-bob. Her tone was neutral, but tight with tension. “The square footage is roughly double that of here. My address is a short walk to Bolton Prep.”
Kit moved to her side. “The only thing that would change for you is those long boat rides. No more ferries across the harbor. More neighbors, more things to do. We’d live like normal people for a change.”
Something about the word normal broke the dam.
“No more best friends next door.” My voice caught. “No more wolfdog either, right? I doubt Cooper is welcome downtown.”
Kit stepped toward me, hands extended. “Tory, honey! It won’t be that—”
Beside him, Whitney stamped her foot. “No!”
I flinched, startled by Whitney’s outburst. Kit looked at his fiancée in total surprise.
Fat tears had gathered in her eyes. “This was a bad idea, Kit Howard.” Whitney’s hand chopped the air. “In the last year, Tory’s dealt with enough change for any five girls! She has friends out here, on Morris Island. Her own space. We are not going to uproot her to some place she’s never even seen before, simply because it’s more convenient for us!”
I’m not sure who was more stunned, Kit or me.
“It’d be more convenient for everyone,” my father replied weakly. Honestly, I’m not sure he knew how to react. “We’re not trying to—”