Infinity Reaper by Adam Silvera (new books to read .TXT) 📕

can report that news to their mother. I can barely focus, so relieved that Emil is okay, and honestly, a little grateful that his brother is packing powers to help keep him alive since I can’t trust Emil to take care of himself.

I’m on my bed, almost done memorizing the pages, when the slow knock I’ve grown up with catches my attention. The Senator has returned and he doesn’t look like himself. His thick glasses don’t hide the deep shadows underneath his reddened eyes. He’s lost noticeable weight in his cheeks and the public will be sure to scrutinize what that means for him.

“You look like hell.”

“Campaigning to be the leader of the free world isn’t without its sacrifices,” the Senator says. I expect some comment about how he tried to do away with me to further his goals, but he doesn’t seem to have that snideness in him at the moment.

“Sounds like you’ve got some more competition out there.”

“The Infinity Kings? Another threat we’ll neutralize.”

I’m sure Brighton came up with that name. I hope there’s truth behind it.

“I trust you’re prepared for your interviews,” the Senator says.

“Just about got the new lies memorized.”

“If you don’t sell those lies as truth we will kill those women right in front of you.”

“Then you’ll lose your leverage against me.”

The Senator smirks. “You can’t possibly believe that we’re relying solely on their lives to get you to cooperate.”

I don’t know if he’s playing mind games with me, but the threats while I do his dirty work are really pissing me off. “I said I got this! Unless you’re here to run lines with me, back off.”

Jax appears in the doorway with his hand raised as if he’s going to have to telekinetically restrain me. I stay seated on my bed.

The Senator doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated. “I am here to let you know that we’ve secured the Silver Star Slayer for the interview with a set of pre-approved questions. He’s a tremendous supporter of mine and giving him this spotlight will increase a platform that has been very generous toward our cause.”

The Silver Star Slayer is a deranged vlogger. He’s always red in the face as he explodes with conspiracy theories such as an airplane that went missing because it was swallowed up by a prime constellation. The first video I watched of his in full was about the Blackout. He claimed that the brawl between the Spell Walkers was the result of Aurora Lucero discovering an affair between her husband, Lestor, and Finola Simone-Chambers. He had shared all these pictures of Lestor and Finola close during battle to support his theory of how much they can’t live without each other.

“You should do him a favor and send him to a psychiatrist instead,” I say.

“That wouldn’t serve me,” the Senator says.

It wouldn’t. The Silver Star Slayer will always be outspoken against anything a gleamcrafter does. A celestial on a plane was once praised for teleporting into the pilot’s cabin to save the captain, who was having a seizure, and the Silver Star Slayer posted a whole video about how vulnerable all passengers are on a plane when a celestial can take over as quick as a snap. He absolutely hates the Spell Walkers, always blaming them for the destruction to public property when they’re fighting for their lives or saving others.

“Be ready in thirty,” the Senator says.

“I know Luna was busy during the Cloaked Phantom,” I say before he can leave. “What are you going to do with me when it’s time to swap me out with my replacement?”

The Senator stops at the door. “That will depend on your performances moving forward, Eduardo. We can either write you back into the show, or we can write you out for good.”

The attic has been redone for the interview. The walls and windows have been blanketed to avoid anyone recognizing this space from the many photos available of the manor online. I know from the scripts that when speaking as Eva and Carolina that I won’t be disclosing where we’re supposed to be, and the Silver Star Slayer will be signing one hell of an NDA. Not that it seems necessary with the way he’s fawning over the Senator in the hallway.

“Time to suit up,” Roslyn says after she’s finished setting up the camera and the ring light.

I morph into Eva—my brown skin lightening, hair growing longer with a patch where Eva has been pulling too much, beauty marks appearing on my cheeks, eyelashes extending—and I shrink a little into the chair.

“Don’t worry about the black eye,” Roslyn says as I’m in the middle of building in all her bruises. She holds up a tablet where she’s video-chatting with Dione, who’s downstairs in the panic room with Eva and Carolina. Roslyn compares my features with Eva, who looks terrified beside her four-armed former best friend. “Lose a little more hair.”

“I got it right,” I say. I look more groomed than Eva since I’m not supposed to appear as if I’ve been locked away for a week.

“The dramatics will benefit us. If you’d like, I’m sure Dione will rip out more hair to make it true.”

I do as she asks, reminding myself that her time will come.

“Stick to the script,” she says before calling, “We’re ready!”

I keep my hands folded in my lap. I’m not familiar enough with Eva’s composure when she’s relaxed, having only spent intimate time with her when she was stressed and crying, but I’m hoping that I can sell this to the Senator’s team and signal Iris that something is off about her girlfriend.

The Senator escorts the Silver Star Slayer inside, a white man in his early thirties with a navy tie over his hideous lime-green shirt that looks like it might glow in the dark. He has auburn hair and brown eyes that already hate the celestial he sees sitting before him. He approaches me cautiously, as if he suspects Eva’s healing power is somehow violent.

“Russell, this is Eva,” the