Incandesce by Sonya Lano

Author:Sonya Lano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wings, wing powers
Publisher: Sonya Lano
Published: 2017-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

MOMENTS LATER, AFTER I’ve mentally flayed myself for wasting time and appeased the hateful Cascades sneering at the back of my mind, my phone is out at full tablet size and Lunar and I are heading up an enclosed concrete staircase that’s overpowered with dust and the sting of ammonia.

I’ve already set up the automatic re-looping of feeds for the mounted hall cameras we’re about to pass, and I’ve disabled any alarms, but I’ve gone farther, too, and adjusted the tablet to seek body heat and movement. That, simply put, is because if I take into account all the wristband-less people we’ve come across recently—the scientist under the prison, the gang members trying to abduct Anza—I’m not taking any chances of my tablet not warning me of people wandering nearby without bands, and I wouldn’t put it past the Coalition to man this whole center with more of them. This way, the tablet’ll warn me of their presence.

Still, though, my ears strain for any noise, and my eyes sharpen on every shadow of hallway.

The screen warns us twice of someone approaching.

The first time, we duck into a storage room full of floor-scrubbing drones and ancient cleaning tools, me up against the wall and Lunar mashed up against me. It almost descends into a kissy-kissy moment, but just as he’s bending his head, an ancient mop stuck haphazardly in a bucket next to us topples and cracks him in the cranium.

He levels it with such an incinerating glower that I smother snickers as the person outside passes by none the wiser.

The second time, we end up in the men’s restroom, where Lunar propels me into a stall and lifts me onto the toilet seat, my feet balanced on the rim so two pairs of shoes won’t be visible under the door. He slaps the door shut and bolts it just as whoever was coming walks in, then Lunar faces the stall door, hands tense, his wings scrunched against his spine.

I’m not sure what we’ll do if the person notices Lunar’s black boots buckled from ankle to shin—if the dress code here doesn’t allow anything so gothic—but whoever it is just utilizes the urinal in a splash of piss and leaves.

I grimace, pitching my voice low. “He didn’t wash his hands.”

Turning, Lunar spans his hands around my waist and grins. “At least I’m hygienic.”

“Surgical steel wing blades. Could dissect a spleen or slice your bread.”

That earns me another kiss and a lift off the toilet onto the floor, my wings fluffing up at the descent as if they like me being pampered and lifted off commodes.

I might like it, too.

Seconds later, we’re back in the corridor and I’m peering around a doorframe into the largest lab room of the center, based on the electronic blueprints my tablet generated by analyzing the setup of surrounding walls.

This room is a goldmine of scientists, all hunkered in lip-biting intensity over their respective test tube stations.

No one’s paying attention to the door.

I motion Lunar behind me

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