Taking advantage of her confusion, I kicked her away and summoned my weapon once more, but heavy footsteps behind me forced me around. It was the Big Guy. His armor was still smoking from the fire he’d just charged through.
With clumsy steps, he ran at me. From wild instinct alone, I swung my scythe at him, hoping that this time the blade would slice clean through his neck. But he dodged, catching the handle just underneath the sickle and lifting me off my feet. I swung my feet in the air, too shocked to react when the beast-like man rammed his other hand into Eveline’s face as she made for him, swatting her away like a fly. Rhys was busy avoiding Jessie’s hand-to-hand attacks. As Eveline hit the ground, unconscious, I knew I had to finish this guy off myself.
I grabbed his head and set it on fire, the force of the explosion pushing us back. I ripped his helmet off as I fell, and that’s when I got my first look at him.
Oh, god.
The moment my boots hit the ground, I stumbled and landed on the floor, stunned. My stomach heaved as I saw the maggots—tiny, squirming things in the eye sockets of the rotted flesh where the Big Guy’s head should be. Parts of his skull peeked through. I covered my mouth.
This was impossible.
“Ah, man,” Jessie said. “You ruined the surprise. Still, it’s impressive, right?” Flipping back to create enough space between herself and Rhys, Jessie took off one of her gloves, revealing a sickly pale, slender hand, and snapped her fingers.
The monster started to move. Lumbering. Lurching at her command.
But phantoms were the only monsters that were supposed to exist in this world.
Phantoms and Effigies.
“Take her, Dead Guy,” Jessie commanded her slave. “Take the girl.”
The girl. Me. My arms were lifeless at my sides as I stared at the maggots slipping in and out of his flesh. I couldn’t move.
Suddenly, sirens echoed around us.
Sect vans sped down the tunnel from both ends. Encouraged, I whipped around to face my attackers again, but Jessie didn’t waste any time. Without another word, she cut across the tunnel, grabbed something from her back pocket, and threw it against the wall. The small metal device latched on to the concrete with four metal arms spread out like a lucky clover, each arm lighting up with red bars down its length.
A second passed.
Then, the explosion.
Rhys and I shielded our eyes from the dust. And once it settled, Jessie was gone, her monstrous puppet falling to the ground with a dull thud.
A dead pile of flesh and bones on the pavement.
12
FAILURE. BETRAYAL. TWENTY-TWO HOURS passed in disarray as Sibyl conducted an internal review of the London facility’s entire roster, though many agents had no idea what had even happened in the underground tunnels.
But that wasn’t enough for the Council. Apparently, after an emergency meeting, they’d called someone in from another facility to “aid in operations.” Whether that meant helping Sibyl or interrogating her, I didn’t know. Still, after what had happened, nobody could blame them for taking action. Only two agents had helped those mysterious soldiers attack us, but it was two too many. Lake’s and Chae Rin’s unit had successfully delivered their ring to its new fortified hiding spot. But Jessie had managed to make off with the one we were supposed to deliver. If backup hadn’t come when it did, she might have made off with me, too.
Sibyl had told us to stay in our dorms, out of the way, while she conducted the investigation, but that didn’t last long.
“Open up! Open up, it’s an emergency!” Rhys was pounding on the door.
Chae Rin glanced up from her laptop. Lake and Belle burst out of their rooms on the second floor. Jumping up from the table, I ran to let him in.
“What is it?” I asked, taking in the sight of a blue cast on the arm Jessie had snapped. Dark circles caved in the skin around his eyes, his full lips cracked from dehydration. He looked like he’d been grilled all night.
“Bloemfontein’s APD was hacked. Parts of the city have just been attacked by phantoms.”
I sucked in a deep breath, my shoulders lifting with my chest as I let the dread sink in. Saul was back in business.
“Have agents been dispatched to the area?” Belle kept her eyes on Rhys as she walked down the stairs, her body mostly healed from her wounds thanks to her Effigy abilities.
“Yeah. It didn’t look like it was a full-scale attack. The phantoms rampaged a farmers’ market for a while before disappearing again.”
“How do we know it was him?” asked Lake from behind the second-floor railing.
“It’s his pattern,” I said quietly, remembering New York. “Plus, phantoms wouldn’t just target a specific area, then disappear.”
Phantoms were forces of nature. They followed no will but chaos. So far, only the ring could channel that pandemonium into some instrumental purpose. It was him.
“We’ve been called to Communications.” Rhys was already turning. “Dot’s found something.”
“Is it about that girl who attacked us?” I asked, following him through the door. “Jessie?”
Rhys’s expression darkened as he tilted his head away from me. He rubbed his cast almost absently as he glared at something in the distance. “It’ll come up. Let’s get there first.”
Under the night sky, we crossed the grounds to Communications, following Rhys up the elevator to the third floor. The room in which Sibyl, Dot, and Pete had been waiting for us overlooked the main floor, its front wall made entirely of glass.
I assumed it worked only one way. Though I could see the agents below clicking away at their keyboards, their monitors lighting up as they tracked disturbances around the globe, they surely, hopefully, couldn’t see Sibyl pacing in front of a red-faced woman sputtering her usual anti-Sect rhetoric on the wide-screen television at the side of the wall. Tracy Ryan, Florida senator: the same woman leading the front on having us Effigies officially classified by international law as biological weapons of mass destruction so we could be quarantined accordingly.
“You can see the Sect’s incompetence with your own eyes,” she said as CNN split-screened her slim, pigeon-sharp face with live footage of the phantom attack in Bloemfontein.
My hands went cold as I saw large, spiderlike phantoms crash through streets with their clawlike legs. People screamed as they rushed past makeshift booths to save themselves from beasts almost half the size of buildings.
“I’ve said this before: The Greenwich Accords is nothing more than a locked and loaded gun holding the international community hostage while the Sect parades around, pretending to ‘handle’ these threats. But they’re not doing that. What they’re really doing is shoring up their arsenal and power while pretending to protect the rest of the world. They are waiting to strike.”