“Two strangers meeting on a cruise, getting to know each other,” Jeffrey said. “This isn’t too prying, I don’t think.” He winked over the rim of his glass. “Unless you’re not some secret agent?”

“Se-secret agent of what?” I asked, my voice quivering. It was apparent he was messing with me. But I was nervous. If I were Erind, I wouldn’t have any problems continuously spouting lies. “Is there anything to spy about on this ship? It’s, uhm, it’s just a cruise.”

“Oh, lots,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Really lots.”

Did Jeffrey suspect something was wrong?

He shouldn’t. He approached me; I wasn’t targeting him.

Was he setting up another situation to show off? I gambled that this was the case. “You seem to know a lot of important stuff…” I purred, touching my mask with my index finger and thumb, hoping my illusion looked like I adjusted my glasses.

“You’d be surprised by the dealings going on here,” he said in a low voice, barely audible over the mellow jazz.

“Dealings? You make it sound so sketchy.”

“Nothing of the sort. Well, could be that some of them are. Depends on who’s asking.”

“What if I’m the one asking?” I glanced left at the display shelves as I sipped my drink, trying to appear indifferent. “This julep tastes good, by the way. Refreshing. Thanks for the recommendation.”

Jeffrey leaned close. Too close! He breached my personal space delineated by my knees. His perfume had a sharp scent that stung the top of my nose like spices. Hated it. Docking another point from him.

But I didn’t back away, tilting left instead and propping my elbow on the bar counter. I didn’t want our faces that close. His blue eyes peered through slitted lids as he examined mine. He nudged his head to the booth directly across from us.

“Don’t turn their way,” he said.

I glanced at the booth sidelong. Two figures obscured by shadows sat on either side of the table. “Who are they?”

“On the right is Spence Hugh, the CEO of HMCI. He’s talking to Raphaela McHunter. Her rainbow fur coat is recognizable anywhere.”

“McHunter?” I blurted, familiar with the surname. I tensed my jaws, unsure if I should’ve asked. Did I give away anything?

“The famously infamous McHunters of La Esperanza,” Jeffrey said. “One of, if not the richest family over the gorge. Construction and property development. Practically owned the city. Got the politicians and cops in their pockets. Was, anyway.” He frowned. “Where would I insert ‘was’ in all that?”

“Dunno with you.” I chuckled a pitch higher.

“I was going to say that was all in the past. Though they’re still quite powerful and wealthy nowadays.”

“Remarkable you know a lot of important people.”

“Nah, I don’t know, as in know, the McHunters. Probably not a compliment to know, know, them. Get me?”

“Uh, I guess?”

“I’m just more informed than the average person. Actually, you may’ve heard of the McHunters yourself. They were in that big scandal years ago. National news material.”

“What scandal? How many years ago was that? Maybe I was just a kid then. I’m not the type to watch the news.” I donned a self-conscious expression. “Erm, I hope you don’t think I’m a shallow girl, not keeping up with important news stuff.”

“No, I’m not thinking that,” Jeffrey assured me. “And that was long ago.” He patted my knee.

I flinched, abruptly moving my crossed legs a notch to the side, away from his touch. That wasn’t me. I would’ve done the same thing—I didn’t appreciate Jeffery’s advances even if he was attractive—but that immediate reaction was specifically not mine. Something in the recesses of my being welled up—a burst of disgust I knew wasn’t mine either. I tried to keep a scowl off my face and resisted the urge to clench my fists and throw them at Jeffrey’s ugly mug.

Ugly? Jeffrey was handsome. But also arrogant.

And creepy.

And slimy.

He retrieved his hand as he straightened in his chair. Brushing off my rejection, he went on as if nothing happened, “If you really don’t know, one of the McHunters was an—” He mouthed the next word. Then he placed a finger on his mouth.

Adumbrae? I silently spoke. He nodded.

I already knew that. It was such a famous case that I, though living in La Esperanza for only two years, was fairly familiar with it.

Raphael McHunter, the family patriarch, head honcho whatever of the McHunters, was an Adumbrae. The BID executed him, and a deluge of cases was piled on his family for benefitting from his powers and protecting him. Despite that, no one else was killed other than Raphael. Speaks volumes of the McHunter’s money and power; the government would readily execute those aiding Adumbrae but spared them the death penalty.

Various assets of the McHunters were caught up in protracted legal battles against the government, claiming them for damages, or among the family members themselves. One of the many properties the McHunters owned was the abandoned development project where the hero-wannabe hideout was located. The vast area, almost a city unto itself, filled with empty buildings and unfinished construction overtaken by nature, was like the remnants of human civilization thousands of years after the apocalypse.

Judging by her name, Raphaela McHunter could be Raphael’s daughter or niece. Was she here to charge us rent for squatting on her family’s property?

Likely not, I sarcastically replied to myself.

It was a surprise that no other McHunter became an Adumbrae—the BID put them through rigorous testing and years of observation, but all were cleared. But with Raphaela here, that might no longer be true.

As Jeffrey narrated to me what I knew about the McHunters in hushed tones, I tried to get a better look at Raphaela without moving my head. It was too dim. All I could pick up in my peripheral vision were the rolls of fur obscuring her, their multi-colored bristles catching the scant light. She handed something I couldn’t discern to Spence Hugh of HMCI, a prominent construction company. When I interned at a law firm before enrolling in Eloyce, HMCI was one of the accounts I worked on—worked on, as in, bringing coffee to the lawyers working on it.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jeffrey said, evidently knowing the answer.

“Business stuff, I suppose? Unless you’re hinting that those two are a romantic item?”

Jeffrey laughed. “Your first guess is correct. The second one is going to be insane if true. I heard Madam Raphaela freed some of their family lands from the government’s clutches. My guess is that the McHunters are roping in the HMCI to develop their properties.”

“Sounds like a big deal.”

“If this place is filled with big deals, would they still be a big deal?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Did you notice the people at the table near the door?” Jeffrey jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. Not waiting for me to answer, he went on, “Edgardo Santos, brother of the mayor of New Los Angeles. The others with him are from Wilkens & Kingson.”

My hands tensed. That was the law firm I had interned at. Small world.

“I recognized one of the lawyers,” Jeffery said. “I bet they’re discussing the misappropriation cases against Mayor Santos. They say the mayor funneled government funds to his brother’s business.” Next, Jeffrey pointed to someone behind me. “Down the counter—don’t look at them—are the owners of…” He whisperingly rapid-fired about more important people having important meetings.

I took another drink, stealing a peek at my right palm. Nineteen minutes to go. Eighteen. Could time go faster? I wanted an excuse to ditch this talkative handsome prick. But I couldn’t leave now because I might still learn something crucial.

I cocked my head after Jeffrey finished, grinning at him all cutesy-like. “Okay, so that’s several deals that are individually big but not in comparison with each other.”

“You got that right.” He laughed. “You’re catching on pretty quick. Beautiful and intelligent.”

I ignored my burning ears at his compliment. “I mean, what you told me didn’t sound sketchy at all. Very big deals, but like, nothing really weird with them. I suppose the weird thing is… why here? This is a cruise ship. Not even a top-of-the-line one—my ticket just cost a few hundred bucks.” I grimaced. “Ouch. Just. To them, maybe, but to me, it isn’t just. Anyway, these people are all too important to be here. What’s up with that?”

This confirmed that I was on the right track. I should feel relieved things were going my way, but I wasn’t. I wished I was wrong. The thought of a ship full of Adumbrae made the skin of my hands clammy. And I was shallowly breathing, anxiety rising.

“You’re asking the right question, miss secret agent,” Jeffrey said, laughing. He was joking, but his words did make my heart stop for a moment.

“I was just wo-wondering,” I squeaked. Why couldn’t I be brave like Erind? If she were in my place, she wouldn’t be unnerved by this situation. “It’s not like I’m, uh, I’m outright asking. Just wondering. Nothing to it. We can talk about something else.”

“Oh, okay then.” Jeffrey blinked in confusion, taken aback by my sudden pivot. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I-I’m not sure…”

You should’ve pressed Jeffrey about it! I internally screamed.

The fricking lead was smack in front of my face, and I chickened out right after inadvertently setting it up! Because I rejected Jeffrey’s advance, he was unconsciously compelled to fan his peacock feathers more. This was his modus for picking up women; I could’ve taken advantage of it to glean more information.

But I just had to be scared. What’s wrong with me?

I was worried about Jeffrey catching on to my snooping. Understandable. But the risk was nothing compared to what I had been through. I had toed the cliffs of death so many times that it was a miracle I was still sane! Then came the answer—it wasn’t me who traversed all those dangers and faced off death more times than my fingers could count.

It was Erind.

I had nothing to my existence. How could I be like her? Do I even want to be like her?

No. Why would I want to be so… unnatural. I was fine being me. It was right to be me. She was the wrong one. I had no powers; I should err on the side of safety. And was there more to learn from Jeffrey? He was just the son of one of the 2M’s clients. He probably had no idea of what was really going on.

Yes, I was making the right choice—better me than Erind at the helm. I checked the crystal on my palm again. Fourteen minutes. What if this was my transformation’s duration?

I don’t want to be gone.

“Domino?” Jeffrey said, looking closer at the hand I was staring at. “Excuse me, Domino? Are you okay?”

“Yes? Yes!” I jerked, closing my hand. “Yes, I’m Domino. Oh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Is your drink getting to you? You might find juleps a bit stronger if you're used to mojitos.”

“It’s fine, really,” I said. Then I took a few gulps to show him.

“You’re probably bored I’m still the one talking. Bizarre that the conversation keeps circling back to me. Please don’t think that I’m narcissistic. I’m interested to know about you.”

Again, he placed his hand on my knee. And again came the impulse to punch him. But I was going to react my way. Not Erind’s. This was my body, and I’d spend what possibly were my last minutes as Domino standing up for myself.

I firmly grabbed Jeffrey’s wrist with my right hand, moved it by the counter, and unceremoniously dropped it. He didn’t resist, probably expecting something else, and was surprised by what I did.

“I’m not the kind of girl you think I am,” I said shortly, rotating my stool to face the bar counter.

“No, I wasn’t assuming anything like that,” he hurriedly said. “I just thought we had a connection going on.”

“If we did, it’s gone now,” I said.

This was better than stringing him along. I knew he liked the illusion my Domino powers made for him. He’d work harder to make it up to me. If I navigated this correctly, I could get him to spill actual secrets he might’ve overheard from his parents. If Erind were in my shoes, Jeffrey would probably be dead. Better me at the helm.

“Come on, don’t say that.” He leaned on the counter. “No beating around the bush. I sincerely apologize for…”

“For?” I turned to him, bitchy face on. He examined his hand with unblinking eyes, turning it over and back down. Cold fear gripped my heart. Did he feel the crystal on my palm when I held him? “Um, I can explain! That was… um, where are you going?”

Jeffrey clumsily left his seat, almost tumbling to me. I held out my hands to catch him, but he managed to find his balance. He had a blank gaze as he mumbled, “Rest… room…”

He wobbled further into the bar as if drunk, though he had barely touched his drink. His mouth was busy yapping away earlier. And I assumed someone like him, who frequented bars, could hold his alcohol.

No, this was something else.

What should I do? Follow him or lead him out of here?

I did neither, remaining glued to my seat, too stunned by the realization that another power had manifested. That was my power, wasn’t it? He wasn’t just suddenly feeling sick or employing an out-of-this-world convoluted trick to pick up girls?

It is my power, I decided. Contact with the crystal had affected him. But I had no idea what it did.

Jeffrey soon disappeared around the corner where the lines of blue mood lighting couldn’t reach. I swiveled to face the bar again, subtly spying left and right. No one was looking at me. No one also seemed to have noticed something was wrong with Jeffrey. The bartender was at the left end, preparing drinks for other customers.

I picked up my glass again as I strived to stay calm—just a normal girl drinking alone in the bar. My fingers grasped the copper so hard I would’ve crushed it if I still had super strength. I brought the glass to my mouth but didn’t drink, just feeling the ice on my lips. I swallowed my saliva. My heart pounded so hard it could’ve jumped up to my throat.

What the fuck am I still doing here? The thought jolted me.

If something terrible happened to Jeffrey, I should be far away from here. With only twelve minutes remaining—now eleven—I should be near my room. I glanced at the bartender. He had his back turned. I jumped off my chair noiselessly and tiptoed to the exit.

I didn’t have money to pay for the drinks. Maybe they’d charge that to Jeffrey’s room or something.

“Why am I worrying about that?” I muttered. But then, something that should make me worry was coming.

“You think Jeff’s still here?” came a familiar whiny voice.

“Should be,” answered another voice I also recognized. “He’s interested in that girl.”

Jeffrey’s friends! I froze by the doorway. They were coming from the right, their footsteps getting louder. I bowed my head, ready to brush past them as they entered.

“He’s gonna have to cut it short,” the first voice said. Closer, this time. I braced myself. “Can’t keep the big guy wait—woah!”

The two turned to enter the arcing opening into the bar. I strode forward, head down, aiming right between them, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. A hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder. My heart skipped a beat, and not in a romantic way.

I caught the scream climbing up my throat at the last moment. Drawing more attention to myself wasn’t a good idea. Punching them would be downright stupid. “Uh, excuse me,” I said, my voice of uneven pitch. If they weren’t going to buy my excuse—and I had no idea what I should say—then I’d try using my crystal power. “I have to get going.”

“Damn right, you have to get going,” Whiny Sidekick said. He held my shoulder. “Big Marcy’s looking for you.”

“For me?” Big Marcy? My terrified brain couldn’t even begin to process that sentence. Was my cover blown?

“Yeah, your parents were calling you, but you weren’t answering your phone,” said Backup Sidekick.

“My parents?” I couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. Déjà vu?

“Don’t play dumb, man,” Whiny said. “I know you’re fixated on that girl. One look, and I immediately knew she was your type. But leave that for later. Where is she anyway?”

“Maybe she already ditched his ass,” commented Backup.

“The Jeffrey Nickelson?” Whiny patted my shoulder. “Getting rejected? I never thought I’d see the day. Oh, wait. We already saw that with Liza!” He cackled like a hyena, though I knew hyenas weren’t really laughing—hyenas were agitated if they made that sound.

I learned it from the Animal Channel I loved to watch as a little girl. Rather, Erind watched that. I, Domino, didn’t exist yet back then. Correction. I wasn’t Domino right now.

I was Jeffrey Nickelson, and I had less than nine minutes to meet Big Marcy.

I can be braver than Erind!