Jay, I decide; Elizabeth’s contained—at least for now, though the metal has got to start disappearing soon. I turn to face Jay as he reaches the top of the stairs.

“Don’t shoot,” he gasps, raising one hand, the other clutching his side. “It’s just me.”

As if that makes any difference.

“Mark, she knows,” Elizabeth says.

Mark?

“Liz,” he scolds, his eyes wary. And tired. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. I probably look the same. He glances between Elizabeth and me and I can tell he’s trying desperately to catch up.

I don’t intend to give him the opportunity.

“Why are you here?” I ask in a deadly whisper, taking half a step toward him, gun extended.

“Because you broke into Reese’s office,” Jay says, his hands raised in front of him.

“How do you know that?”

“There’s an alarm on everything in this house, Tave. That’s why both of us are here.”

I grit my teeth, hating that I didn’t think of that. “Why the hell is everything so safeguarded?”

“Well, consider—”

“Tavia?” Benson’s voice interrupts me, filled with panic. My eyes dart away from Jay for a second and I see the bands holding Elizabeth beginning to dissolve.

I close my eyes and new bands form, prompting a quiet squeal of pain from Elizabeth.

“Tave, Jay!”

My gun swings back around to Jay, who apparently attempted to take advantage of my back being turned. His arm is raised, but as soon as the barrel of the gun points his way again, he mutters a curse and lets his hands fall.

Shackles form around his ankles, wrapping around the banister and pinning his feet into place.

“Come on, Tavia, this is ridiculous,” Jay says, looking more annoyed than threatened by his bonds.

I set my jaw and point the gun again, hating myself for it even as I know there’s nothing else to do. “Don’t follow us or I’ll use this … or worse,” I add, feeling really stupid, but they seemed truly afraid of my abilities. “Come on, Benson,” I say, shouldering my backpack. “We have to go now.”

“Don’t go with him,” Elizabeth shouts. “You know who you need to find and it is not Benson!”

“I’m not listening to you anymore,” I hiss at her.

“Please, Tavia, don’t let him confuse you. You’re meant for another. I know you can feel it.”

I clap my hands over my ears and start down the stairs.

“Tavia, wait, don’t leave,” Jay says, and I almost turn at the panic in his voice. “My work, we’ve found connections between the Reduciata and the virus, and if you walk away, I’m not sure I—”

“I can’t—I can’t listen to either you anymore,” I yell, cutting him off. “I can’t believe anything you say.” And if I don’t leave now, who else will arrive? How many people can I really hold off with my ephemeral magic tricks?

I glance around the living room and kitchen as Benson and I pass through to the garage door. So many memories. Good ones. The awkward but strangely motherly moments with Reese, hilarious times with Jay when, for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a brother.

All lies.

Before anger can suffocate me, I turn my back on everything and head out to the garage, slamming the door on my old life.

As soon as I’m out of the house, I let Elizabeth’s gun clatter to the cement.

Benson opens his mouth—he probably thinks we should take it with us—but I silence him with a look. I can’t. I just can’t. I hate being dangerous just by being me; I won’t carry a weapon on top of that.

Acknowledging my refusal, he instead pulls the huge bundle of keys out of his pocket. “We’ve already broken and entered; how do you feel about grand theft auto?”

“You think we should take Reese’s Beemer?” I ask, recognizing how ridiculous my words sound, as though this were the most awful thing that’s happened today.

Benson swallows. “Not really. But my car’s at the library, and I don’t want to expose you to whatever’s out there. I guess you could try to make one, but …”

“It’ll disappear in five minutes,” I say, cutting off his answer before I have to consider actually doing it.

“Right,” he agrees. “Besides, it’s black; it’s not flashy. It’ll work.”

I stare at the sleek, shiny vehicle. “She’s going to call the cops.”

“She won’t.”

“It’s an eighty-thousand-dollar car, Benson. Trust me—she’s going to call the cops.”

He turns to face me. “No. She’ll chase you down on her own. And now she’ll have to find a car to do it. No cops; she won’t risk exposure.”

“That’s one hell of a gamble,” I say softly.

“Let’s chance the odds.”

I hesitate, not wanting to hurt Reese and Jay more than I already have.

“Tavia,” Benson urges, “they may have been complicit in the murder of your parents.”

“Fine,” I say, swallowing the pain that comes with his reminder. “But I drive.” Because if someone’s got to steal a car, it’s going to be me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

My thoughts and I are silent for the first few minutes as we drive along. I stick to quiet neighborhood streets, avoiding anywhere people might be looking for us. For me.