“Myla, stop!” Mom gasps. “No one can see you like this.”
Mom lectures on and on about hiding my glowing blue eyes, but I barely hear her. Instead, my attention’s locked on the now-pleasant feeling of power that lingers around my fingers. The electric sensation expands and changes until it’s a thousand tiny voices calling to me, some singing, others laughing, all of them aching to be brought to life. It’s hypnotic. I glance around the room; Mom and Walker are lost in conversation. Only I can hear the little voices.
I’m dimly aware that Walker sits down beside Mom. Some of his words break through the haze in my brain. “Camilla, there’s no point pretending any more. Her eyes are glowing bright blue.”
Mom lets out a ragged breath. “Yes, Myla. Your father is Xavier. You were right about Tim. We never even held hands.”
It’s the confession of my lifetime, but I only half-hear her. My focus is still drawn to those little voices and the power behind them. I raise my hand before my face, flipping my palm front to back, over and over. My mouth seems to speak without my willing it. “I have the blood of an angel, demon, and human in me.” Memories flip through my mind: using the baculum with Lincoln…Understanding Latin during the Scala initiation…Lightning strikes when I felt strong emotions…And my eyes turning blue after kissing someone with angel blood.
The voices grow louder, wrapping my consciousness in their calming words and lovely music. Their desire to take physical form becomes almost overwhelming. Suddenly, it’s clear who they are: igni.
And who I am as well.
My voice comes out low and dreamy. “I’m the Scala Heir.” At those words, an igni materializes before my palm: a single small bolt of white light that shimmers with beauty and strength. Part of me knows I should be terrified at the sight. Instead, I’m calmed as more and more igni appear by my hand, and then swim around my palm like a school of fish.
Around me, the world fades into a dreamy haze as the igni multiply, soaring and diving around each other in their dance around my fingertips. Their many songs unify into one voice, taking on clear words and meaning. They sing of souls soaring to a Heavenly afterlife that’s beyond even the angels. They soothe me with calm words, helping me to accept their power and light. And they warn me: ‘now you must discover how and why your powers hidden for so long. Your next step will then be clear.’
After that, they all disappear.
I lower my hand, staggering backwards until I lean against the living room wall. My breathing is ragged and tight. I can’t seem to suck in enough air. My body turns numb with shock. Did that really happen? I force in slow breaths until my mind clears. The living room comes back into focus. Mom and Walker sit side by side on the couch, neither one moving.
Minutes pass until Walker bows his head, his voice solemn and low. “The Scala Heir.”
Mom grips her hands at her waist, her eyes wild with panic. “It’s not too late, Myla. Maxon Bane has lived almost a thousand years; he may live a thousand more. You always had the potential to become the Scala Heir, but you did not need to be awakened, let alone angelbound. Now that it’s happened, you can still hide. Go anywhere. Run. Now. No one will know that you’ve changed.”
I stare into her red-rimmed eyes, emotions battling inside me. There’s frustration that she’s still treating me like a child. Anger at having been lied to for a lifetime. Pity for everything she went through with the war and Xavier. Fear at what will happen now that I’ve changed into the Scala Heir. Tension crawls up my body. One thing is for certain: no matter what path the future takes, I’m in for a long fight.
At that realization, my mouth rounds with the smallest of smiles. A fight like that? Sounds like a challenge. And I’m always up for a challenge.
Mom leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Did you hear me Myla? You have to hide. Anywhere.”
Stepping away from the wall, I move to stand before Mom and Walker. My voice comes out low and strong. “That’s not your decision anymore, Mom. From now on, I make the choices about my future. And to do that, I need some answers.” I remember what the igni told me: I must understand why and how all this happened.
Mom slumps further into the couch; her eyes lock on the floor.
I kneel before her, taking her hand in mine. “How long have you known I was the Scala Heir?”
Mom looks away, biting her bottom lip. My eyes narrow. I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.
I give her hand a squeeze. “I understand what happened with Xavier and Armageddon. Verus showed me in a dreamscape last night. I know you’re frightened about losing me the way you lost my father. But I need you to be strong now, like you were as a Senator. I need you to answer my questions. How long have you known I was the Scala Heir?”