“But it also makes us weaker,” I finished for him. “It tears you down, breaks you down, from the inside out. I don’t know what Jeremiah tells you about that, but whatever superhero vibe you’re rocking now, it won’t last forever.”
“And how do you know that?” he asked. “Have you seen a member of the Dark Elite break down?”
I opened my mouth to retort that I didn’t need to see it, that I trusted Scout to tell me the truth. But while that was true, he made a good point. “No. I haven’t.”
“I’m not saying it happens or not. I’m just saying, maybe you should figure that out for yourself. In our world, there’s a lot of dogma. A lot of ‘this is how it is’ and ‘this is how it should be.’” He shook his head. “I don’t know how it works for your people, and I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends or anything. I’m just offering some advice. Take the necessary time to figure out for yourself what’s good and bad in the world.”
We looked at each other for a few seconds, the two of us staring across a plastic table, until I finally had to look away. His gaze was too personal, too intimate, even for a secret lunch hour meeting at Taco Terry’s.
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Part of it. I also wanted to warn you.”
That brought my eyes back to him. “About what?”
“I hear you stepped into the turf war between the vampires. Between the covens.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you stepped into the middle of something you shouldn’t have. But I also know you need to go back.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “I am not going back. They nearly tore us to pieces the last time.”
Sebastian shook his head. “You need to go back. And you need to ask the right questions.”
“The right questions about what?”
He looked away quickly, apparently not willing to share everything. But he finally said, “Find Nicu. Ask him about the missing.”
Scout had been kidnapped by the Dark Elite—was that what he meant? Had the Reapers taken more Adepts? “What do you mean, the missing?”
“That’s what you need to find out. I can’t ask the questions for you.”
“If you’ve hurt someone, I swear to—”
He gave me a condescending look. “I’ve helped you. I’m helping you again. Remember that.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You just told me to go back to see the vampires while they’re in the middle of a turf war.”
“For your own good.”
I doubted that, but I had questions of my own. Might as well take this opportunity. “While you’re being helpful, tell me about the new monsters in the tunnels. Slimy things? Naked? Pointy ears?”
“I know nothing.”
I shook my head; he’d answered too fast. “You’re lying. I know they have some connection to the Reapers.”
“I’m not part of that.”
“Wrong answer. You’re one of them,” I reminded him. “We know the monsters have been in at least two spots in the tunnels. Where are they coming from?”
He looked away. “Just talk to Nicu.”
That made me sit up a little straighter. “Nicu knows about the monsters?”
“That’s all I can tell you. I have my own allegiances to protect.”
“Well, at least you’re done pretending to be a good guy.”
Sebastian looked back again and leaned forward, hunching a little more over the table. “This isn’t a game, Lily. This is our world, and we are different from the rest of them. From the rest of the humans.”
“No,” I said. “We aren’t different. We have a gift—a temporary gift. It doesn’t make us different. It only makes us lucky.”
Shaking his head, he sat up straight again. “We have a temporary gift now. Did you know that? That the magic hasn’t always been temporary? We’ve been losing it, Lily. Over time. Slowly but surely, each generation has their magic for a little less time than the generation that came before it. And maybe that’s because we’re blending with humans. Maybe it’s some kind of magical evolution.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know we want a different future. We don’t want to just give up something that has the potential to help so many people.”
“You mean something that has the potential to hurt so many people.”
He shook his head. “All of this magic—have you thought about what it could do for humanity? Do you know the things we’ve already done for humanity? All those moments in human history where someone gets some amazing insight—the polio vaccine, the understanding of relativity—you think those moments are an accident?” He shook his head. “No way.”
“That doesn’t justify what you have to do to keep the magic. If we’re losing it, we’re losing it. We need to accept that and be done with it. It’s not an excuse to use people to keep the magic longer than nature wants you to have it.”
“You think no cost is worth the price,” he said. “I disagree.”
“Your cost is the lives of other humans.”
“The cost for our good deeds—for saving millions by our contributions—is a bit of one person. The many are more valuable than the one. We believe that.”
I just shook my head. There wasn’t much chance I was going to agree with him however well he justified it. I looked up at him again. “Lauren and some gatekeeper girl paid us a visit last night.”
His eyes went hugely wide. “Last night?”
I nodded. “You want to tell me why?”
“I don’t know,” he began, but before I could object, he held up his hands. “I don’t. It could be Scout. Jeremiah was interested in her.”
“Because she’s a spellbinder?”
“Maybe.”
“She’s off limits. Permanently,” I added, when he looked like he was going to object. “I’ve got firespell, and I know how to use it. Any more Adepts come sniffing around St. Sophia’s looking for her or her Grimoire or whatever else, and we won’t just leave them hexbound in the tunnels.”
“You’ve turned vicious.”
“Like you said, this isn’t a game.”
“At least you’re listening to part of it,” he muttered. Then he lifted the countermeasure and pulled it over his head, relief clear in his face when he placed it on the table. “I want to show you something. Hold out your palms.”