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out these powers, the sooner we can make a move against the Blood Casters.” I believe in the stars now more than ever and I pray to every last one that Ma hasn’t been killed because of me. Especially not after how horrible I was to her on our last phone call. “Maybe we can save our mother.”

Emil stops reaching for his breakfast as if he’s lost his appetite thinking about Ma’s fate. Not having an answer is unsettling, and I keep assuming the worst but I can’t operate that way until we know for sure. I’m not giving in to the grief because it’ll make me weak and powerless like when Dad died. Not when I stand to be stronger and more powerful than ever—than anyone.

“I want to save her too, but we can’t rush into this. My powers aren’t working and you’re new to yours. If something has happened to Ma, then—”

“Then we make sure they don’t get away with it,” I interrupt.

Emil lets out a deep sigh. “By locking them up in the Bounds, right? You need my help with the phoenix powers, but I’m not doing that if you’re trying to become some assassin.”

There’s so much wrong with that, but I bite my tongue. Emil seems to be forgetting that learning new skills and absorbing information has always been easier for me. I was also working the camera during all his training lessons with Atlas on how to pull the fire out of him. I can do this myself if I have to, but I don’t want to.

“The dream has always been to save the world with you—the Reys of Light! The Blood Casters won’t stand a chance against us. We’ll be . . . What was it I called you when I was trying to figure out your hero name? Uh . . . Unkillable Kings! Though we should rework that to Infinity Kings for branding. You’re the Infinity Son and I’ll be . . .” Given the nature of the potion and my deathly powers there’s one name that feels right—Infinity Reaper. But between not having the ghost powers and Emil not wanting me to kill, I abandon the name. “I’m the Infinity Savior.”

We fist-bump and whistle, but it’s so halfhearted on his end that it’s getting harder to keep a lid on my frustration.

“I know my extra shot at life isn’t as flashy as you being reborn in phoenix fire, but I’m alive and I thought my brother would be excited about that.”

“Chill out, Bright, you know I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m hyped about the direction you’re moving in. I’m not getting caught up in our branding when it’s more important to figure out the binding potions.” He’s studying my face like he’s taking me in for the first time ever. “If we can miraculously brew the potion, I’m scared you won’t drink one with me. I’m scared of who you’ll become.”

He’s not technically my twin anymore, but we grew up close like we were. I can talk to him about anything and sometimes it feels like I have but nothing hits harder than words we’ve never exchanged: I scare him.

“I’m not going to lie, bro, there’s no part of me that’s eager to get rid of these powers. I’ve been waiting for this moment forever, but that doesn’t mean I’ll actually understand the downsides of gleamcrafting until I’m deep in it. This isn’t going to work, though, if you treat me like some power addict from the jump.”

“You literally risked your life for the most dangerous combination of powers,” Emil counters.

“To not die and help fight back against the real dangers in this city. I know it’s not a choice you would’ve made, but I promise I’ll do everything I can to earn your trust. We’re a team. Can we hug this out already?”

I stand and help him up. This hug reminds me of this past June, when Emil was missing Dad during Pride month. Last year our parents offered to accompany us to the parade, but Emil wanted to have fewer eyes on him as he entered that space for the first time, so only Prudencia and I went with him. He’d told Dad and Ma they could join next time and Emil regretted that so hard this past Pride when Dad wasn’t around. I gave him the hug that Dad would’ve given him, which always felt like its own superpower.

I hope Emil feels easier around me. I’ve been messy with him, even before we got involved with the Spell Walkers, and it’s going to take more than a chat on the beach to fix a brotherhood that I was ready to move across the country to get away from, but I’m sure we’ll be stronger than ever before. Literally.

I pat him on the back. “We good?”

“We will be,” Emil says. He nods toward the cottage, to where Prudencia is making her way down to us. “Are you two good?”

“I hope so. Did she mention anything to you last night?”

“I mean, I put one and one together, but we didn’t talk about any of that.”

It wouldn’t bother me personally if Prudencia did get into that with Emil. What matters is knowing where we stand.

“Morning,” Prudencia says as she joins us.

I want to lean in for a kiss, but that doesn’t feel right.

I’m getting worked up over the confusing energy in this triangle of ours. Everything has changed and everything is changing. I’m a specter. Prudencia and I kissed and had sex after years of nothing. Emil might be feeling like a third wheel in the same way Prudencia has understandably felt the same and that I have too. Then there’s figuring out what we are to each other now that I’m alive to answer that unspoken question.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask.

“On and off,” Prudencia says. She glances at Emil, who takes the hint.

“I’m going to start some research on your powers,” Emil says.

“Let’s kick off training this afternoon,” I say.

We fist-bump and whistle and our connection isn’t quite

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