Page 12 of Illusory

“Don’t you think you have enough on your plate right now?” asked Tessa instead, her weathered eyes fixed on me as though they might be able to snap the sense back into my head if they just stared at me hard enough. “What with the Son of Perdition on its way and the Horseman gunning for you to become their Fourth? And let’s not even mention the complete infestation of demons in Hollow Hills at the moment.”

“My plate might be full, but there’s always room for dessert. And the Council? They’re the motherlode of all desserts,” I informed with a vengeful smile, as though I couldalready taste the victory.

“This isn’t a piece of goddamn cheesecake,” snapped Tessa, obviouslynottasting the victory. “This isThe Orderwe’re talking about. The motherfucking Apex predator. The very top of the food chain of power and magic. And you’re what? A brand-new Slayer-slash-Nephilim who can’t even control two percent of the abilities you’re aware of let alone the ones you don’t even know about. You don’t stand a chance against them.”

“Maybe not today I don’t,” I agreed, because I wasn’tcompletelydelusional. “But I’m only getting stronger, and right now, I have something that none of them have.”

“And what’s that? A death wish?”

“No, smart ass. Potential.”

“Potential?” Tessa snorted. “Well, thank god for that. I’m sure they’re already shaking in their boots.”

“Laugh all you want, Tess, but I’m serious. If what Jaqueline said about me is true, then that means I have the potential to be more powerful than any of them could ever even dream to be. My blood runs thicker and my heart beats fuller and after everything they’ve done to me, I’m still standing. They didn’t stop me. They couldn’t break me. They barely slowed me down. And even if I’m dead wrong about this and I never end up fast enough or smart enough to stand a chance in hell against any one of them, for dad, it’s a hill I’ll happily die on.”

My words clung to the silence that descended in the room, permeating the air with their verity. This wasn’t about some power grab or the chase of certain victory. It wasn’t about picking sides or spilling blood or even good vs evil. Not anymore. It was about avenging my father—consequences be damned.

“Alright, Little Miss Potential, you made your case,” saidTessa as she crossed her arms and nodded her approval. “I guess we’re taking it to the hills then.”

I blinked back at her, positive I’d misunderstood her. “We?”

“Yes,we. You don’t actually think I’d let my little sister run off and die on that hill alone, do you?” she asked rhetorically and then softened her voice when she added, “He raised me, too, you know.”

“I know.”

We stared back at one another, as though silently trying to will the other one not to cry—not to let our minds go back to our dad and remember all the ways that he had made our childhood unforgettable. To remember the Christmas mornings and weekly game nights. The bear hugs and mornings breakfasts. But I could tell Tessa’s eyes had already welled up just as badly as mine had, and if we didn’t stop right then, we’d be done for.

Tessa looked away first, wiping the corner of her eyes as she cleared the grief from her throat and then I did the same, shoving my own back down into the pit of my heart where I kept all my memories of him safe.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked after a short beat, her hardened mask back in place.

It took me a second to realize that I had somehow actually talkedtheTessa Blackburn into joining me in my unwinnable war against the Council. Tessa, the bullheaded, stubborn as a mule know-it-all. I bounced a glance at Gabriel who responded with his own nod of approval. I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d made that happen, but I was running like the wind with it anyway.

“The plan is to pick them all off the list, one by one, starting with the Horseman,” I explained evenly, meeting each of their curious gazes. “The more threats we eliminate,the more we tip the scales in our favor. I can’t be looking over my shoulder every second of the day, wondering when the next attempt to hijack my life is going to be, so we definitely need to send those apocalyptic fuckers packing as quickly as possible.”

“Have either of you found anything in the books about them yet?” asked Gabriel, ticking his head to the latest piles of leather-bound textbooks sitting on the kitchen table.

Jaqueline shook her head as she flattened her palm against the stack in front of her. “There was nothing mentioned in the scriptures about the Horsemen, much less anything about vanquishing them. We’re hoping there might be something mentioned in these grimoires,” she added, though she didn’t appear very optimistic about their chances.

“Any contingency plans?” he asked.

Jaqueline shook her head again, regretful.

“What we need to do is get our hands on some damn Angel scripture,” said Tessa, her anarchical side coming out fierce and resounding. “If Jemma is Nephilim, then there’s a good chance she might have the ability to use Angel magic. And if Angel magic is what created the Horseman, then maybe she canun-createthem.”

“What about the Sang Noir?” suggested Gabriel, his focus on me. “Weren’t you able to read its coded text?”

I nodded that I had. Looking back now, that probably should have been my first clue that there was something really off about my supposed bloodlines. “Unfortunately, the Council’s holding it hostage at Temple. Knowing them, they’ll probably have armed guards stationed there around the clock.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Not necessarily. I don’t doubt that they have it under lock and key, possibly even warded or in the Vault, but they aren’t going to waste valuablemanpower standing around it. Not with all the demons showing up as of late.”

“What are you saying?” asked Tessa, eyeing Gabriel. “Do you think we could actually get access to it?”

He ran his hand along his lower jaw, running the numbers in his head. “It’s possible. The last thing they’re suspecting right now is for one of us to show up at Temple. If need be, we could try to set up some sort of diversion and then have Trace port in there while they’re busy chasing our decoy.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” said Tessa, her expression lighting up at thought of all the possible supernatural laws we’d be breaking and just how much fun that might be.

“That won’t work.” Everyone turned to gape at me, as though I’d just started making random chimpanzee noises in the kitchen. “Trace can’t port there,” I stated matter-of-factly.

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