The following day dragged on, and the ones that came after it. A routine formed. Wake up. Train with Lily. Eat. Train with the team. Eat. Train again with the team. Eat. Study with the team. Sleep. Repeat.

It was a grueling pace. After six days of it, every single one of us was ready to drop dead. Staring into the mirror before me, I felt like the ghost of Selena’s past. Dark circles lined my eyes, the telltale sign that the killing gene was rearing its head again. I bent and washed my face with water for the third time, attempting to clear the barest smudge of violet from behind the gray. My other had visited every night since that dream, but none of the dreams took me through distorted memories. I preferred it that way.

“You look tired this morning,” Johanna said.

I glanced sideways across the long bathroom mirror at the amber-eyed girl. Her simple linen pajamas fit right in with the prison-like atmosphere. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” I mumbled.

“It’s hard to be at peace these days. We live in dangerous times,” she said.

I frowned into the water. Something seemed off about her words. Almost rebellious.

“That we do,” I said slowly, wanting to gauge her reaction.

She continued splashing her face with cold water. Silence stretched before us, and I turned back to my sink.

“I would be careful letting yourself get too tired. You never know when the next elimination will be,” she continued.

I stilled again. I definitely wasn’t imagining it this time. She was trying to tell me something.

“I can’t really be eliminated,” I said tightly. We locked eyes in the mirror. The rest of our cohorts were still sleeping, completely oblivious to the silent exchange.

“No, but you could fall out of favor with the Council, and Her Highness by extension.” Her words were soft and deceptive, but that simple statement said so much.

Johanna was sending me a message: elimination day was here. The real question was why. What point was she trying to make? Even if we were having one today, why risk herself?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

She took a deep breath, turning her body a fraction. “Do you kowtow to the Fortescues?” she asked, blunter than most dared to be with me. I liked it.

“No.”

“Then you have your answer.” Johanna walked by me, her mouth too grim for the wink she gave me before she left.

Her words replayed in my mind as I flipped the shower on.

That was weird.

I continued my morning routine before heading out to train with Lily at dawn. Chirping crickets greeted me at the door as the morning dew seeped into my cotton tank top. My legs carried me quickly from one end of the campus to the other. Elimination day. Was she telling the truth? Why would she? I shook my head, glaring at the horizon in the distance.

“Why so gloomy?” Lily asked, bringing me back to the ground in front of me.

“You’re one to talk,” I muttered.

She let out a short laugh in agreement, and I arched my eyebrows.

“What?” she asked, already retreating into herself. Too soon.

“Nothing. It’s just nice to hear you laugh.”

Her lips quirked up as we fell into our warmup—tree climbing. It was amateur in some ways, but it did her good to start off with something reminiscent of our childhood in the alpine larch. It was happier—for her, at least.

“You’re getting better,” I said.

Swinging from branch to branch, Lily pulled herself up, still two branches below.

“It does seem that way,” she said, hauling herself up another branch as I moved on to the top. Up here, the branches were thinner, more precarious. Balancing was as much a necessity as a skill, but the sunrise was worth it.

“Well, how about that? You finally made it before the sun came up,” I said, giving her a second to catch her breath before I nudged her shoulder and pointed east.

“Whoa…” she said, letting out a breath. Her awe lasted about two and a half seconds before she slipped, losing her grip on the branches. She only fell five feet before invisible hands plucked her out of the air and deposited her on a branch a few feet below me.

I was getting used to practicing with it for little things like making my bed, or turning light switches on. Her writhing body required more control, though, and more power. Adrenaline hit my system almost instantly, because now that I was using the power, I already needed my next fix. It was the two days I’d spent in Nashville with Tori and Lucas all over again. My body craved something my mind didn’t want to give it, and a low growl escaped my throat. I scrambled down the branches, not caring what they scraped or how much I bled. Lily fumbled in her attempt to keep up, but she didn’t fall again.

“Selena, what’s going on?” she called.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I paced back and forth, trying to calm myself. The sticky tendrils of madness clawed up my arms and into my brain, but I couldn’t lose it. Not with Lily.

“Selena—”

“Just give me a sec.” I held up a hand to ward her off as my blood cooled. The key seemed to be sensing it before the episodes came on, and making sure nothing prodded the cage too much until the monster settled.

Lily waited quietly by the pine tree as the clawing receded, and I no longer felt something crawling under my skin.

“It’s getting worse,” she said.

I didn’t even try to deny it. “Some days are worse than others…” I muttered, my voice trailing off. There was no room for excuses. Not anymore.

“And today?” she asked, her voice brittle.

“Elimination day,” I said, as if that explained everything.

“Already? How do you know?” she asked, unconvinced. One eyebrow went up as she pursed her lips.

I sighed, leaning back against a tree. “Johanna,” I muttered into the wind.

“Who?”

“A Supernatural girl Anastasia brought in. She’s odd...” Something about this whole thing grated at me. Why would she tell me? Me and mine passing meant one of hers didn’t.

“You sure she wasn’t lying?” Lily asked. She kicked a rock hard enough that it stuck in the tree ten feet away. When she reached her potential, she was really going to be something.

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head, running a hand over my hair.

“Okay…are you ready? Are they ready?” she asked, seeing my train of thought as if it were her own.

“Yes and no,” I said, playing with a piece of my hair.

“You are, but they aren’t?” she guessed.

I nodded, throwing my hair over my shoulder, then rocked forward and turned to leave.

“What’s wrong? I thought you picked them because they could handle this kind of thing,” she said. Her footsteps trailed me, even as I took off down the path.

“I underestimated how strong the Supernaturals she brought in would be. Tori isn’t keeping up well, and Alexandra’s still exhausted from coming so close to burnout.” The monster inside was locked in its cage, but pawing at the latch. I needed to ditch some energy and fast, or someone was going to get hurt.

“Then what are you going to do?” she asked, picking up speed to stay even with me.

“I have no idea. If Johanna’s wrong then it doesn’t matter, but if not… I have no idea what they have in store today.” I clenched and unclenched my hands in an effort to calm myself. It failed miserably.

“What if I can help you all?” she asked. There was a lilt to her voice I hadn’t heard in a long time. It set me on edge. She was planning something.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, intrigued but fighting the urge to shut her down. We didn’t need a repeat of the warehouse, but I had to stop leading with an iron fist when it came to her.

“I can transfer your energy to them,” she said smugly. She had an air of confidence about her that hadn’t been there since the warehouse. It was nice to see, but I still didn’t buy it.

“How?” I asked skeptically.

“Think about it. I can heal people…or kill them, depending on whether I’m giving or taking energy. Maybe I can act as a conduit and take your energy, but give it to them instead of absorbing it,” she said. Something about the way she phrased it made it sound like she already knew she could do this.

I slowed to a walking pace, and we weren’t even halfway back yet.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, slowing as well.

“Have you done this before?” I asked bluntly. She looked away, playing with a piece of hair. “You have, haven’t you?” I demanded.

She looked up to me, her brown eyes watering. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” I asked icily. The wind whipped around us, stronger than was natural.

“It happened this summer, but I covered it up because I didn’t put together what was going on…” Her voice trailed off under my stony glare.

“What happened?”

“I tried to hurt Elizabeth, but her energy just went from me to Blair, making Blair stronger. She pulled me off Elizabeth before I could tell for sure, but…” She continued mumbling to herself, and it was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

“But what?”

“Our first day back at Daizlei I attacked you, and I took something from you when I did. It hurt, though, because I took too much. I couldn’t hold it, and then…I kind of—accidentally—sent some of it into Tori when I bumped into her and Lucas on the way back to the dorm. I tripped—it all happened so fast. I know what I felt, though, and I know I passed your energy into her. At least some of it. If I can control how much I take, I think I can siphon enough to take the edge off for you, and help them—like I did with Tori.” She looked away guiltily, and as pissed as I was for her not telling me, I couldn’t exactly blame her. It wasn’t like I was the most forthcoming.

“Well, that answers that question,” I muttered, running my slick hands over my damp tank top.

“What question?”

“Can you actually transfer anything without hurting someone—including yourself,” I added. Her eyes lit up. I really shouldn’t have been entertaining this idea, even if she could do it.

“I can!” The dumb grin on her face said it all. This was how she wanted to contribute.

“Lily…” I started, already knowing we couldn’t go down this road. Maybe if we had a few more months of practice and she was stable, but this—this was ludicrous.

“I can do it. I know I can. I won’t let you down. I prom—”

“It’s not happening. I’ll find another way.” I walked past her as I headed back to main campus.

“Wait a minute. Since when do you get to decide for me?” she called, like this had only now occurred to her.

“I’m not deciding for you. I’m deciding for me. You won’t do it, because without me, you have no energy to give.”

It wasn’t really a lie, but in deciding for me, I was deciding for both of us. Sure, she could try with someone else, but she wouldn’t, because she didn’t trust herself, and that was all I needed to know not to trust her doing it either. So, she could gape at me all she wanted, but I wasn’t taking chances. Not with the killing gene, and not with her.