Friday, April 3rd at 8:03PM

Tarryn turned into a hotel parking garage, where she pulled a ticket and slowly rolled past dimly illuminated pillars. Signs for reserved parking and lettered rows guided them through aisle after aisle. Evie swallowed when they finally found an available spot near the back, and Tarryn threw the car into park. Doors opened, and Haven waited just outside Evie’s as she hesitantly tugged off her seatbelt. He offered her a gentlemanly hand, and she took it, her palm cresting the soft leather of his well-worn gloves.

She jumped down onto the pavement and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as Haven pulled his hand from hers, switching to clamp down on her upper arm instead. Fair. Evie tried not to drag her feet while they followed behind Tarryn to the alcove of elevators, where she spun around to check all the indicators before one pointed above the doors.

The classical melody filling the elevator escaped into the lobby the second the doors fell open. Evie’s jaw dropped. Rich, dark oak and gleaming white marble offset sparkling gold accents, much like the gold-trimmed glass shards of the huge chandelier bolted to the third floor’s ceiling, visible from the gaping hole down to the compass design set into the tile directly under it.

Men in suits shook hands at the bar walling off a restaurant, manned by a couple of hostesses looking like they were cleaning up for the night. Other guests waited in cushy, high-backed furniture and talked on their phones or adjusted their makeup. Some strode out in designer high heels or dress shoes to town cars idling on the curb through the wall of glass doors.

Evie glanced down at her knit, thick-striped, gray-and-white shirt and quickly shifted her bag strap over the remnants of a few coffee droplets. Good job, Evie. Cover a stain with another, larger stain.

Tarryn jogged over to the reception desk, immediately tapping a finger against it, like she needed to speak to the manager. Haven pulled Evie off to the side, continuing to wait by the elevators. His blue-gray eyes skimmed over the patrons with a huff of a sigh. Something about his presence was sort of comforting, and the way he half-sulked was sort of cute in an awkward way. Evie chided herself. She’d had an entire college campus of boys to gawk at, but of course she decided to unbury herself from all her work now to take in the sights of her young, dashing potential-kidnapper and his maybe-girlfriend-slash-partner.

As if summoned, Tarryn pushed away from the front desk and started back toward them. Haven glanced down at Evie, and she jerked her sights away, feeling the tips of her ears heat. Embarrassing.

Fortunately, he stopped eyeing her when he followed Tarryn, and they filed into another elevator car. She tapped the button for the eighth floor, and Evie tensed at the sound of a laughter-like snort from Haven.

“Shut up,” Tarryn said with no shortage of annoyance.

“Was… there something funny?” Evie asked.

Tarryn shot Haven a glare, though he continued to smirk. “He enjoys irony.”

A few quiet, awkward minutes later, they trailed down the hall to a hotel room, where Tarryn fiddled with the door. The indicator flashed green with a click, and she shoved it open, flicking on the light to reveal a plush king-sized bed, along with a small sitting area tucked into the corner between the sliding glass doors and what had to be the entry to the bathroom.

Evie followed Tarryn’s motion for her to take a seat on the edge of the bed, so she did, dropping her bag at her feet and anxiously waiting for something to happen. Instead of receiving some grand explanation about why she was there and who might be trying to kill her, Tarryn began to pace and rub her hands together while Haven leaned against the door.

“Um… can I know what’s going on now?”

Tarryn slowed to a stop and spun around with her hands on her hips and a grimace. “Okay, so… I’ll be honest with you: you’re going to laugh. That’s just how this goes. You’ll laugh, you’ll demand our badge numbers, and then you’ll finally come to terms that this shit is unfortunately real.”

Evie’s eyes slid over to Haven, who had his closed, almost like he didn’t care to be involved in whatever conversation she and Tarryn were about to have—not that he’d likely interject.

“That… what’s real?” Evie asked slowly.

Tarryn scrubbed at her forehead. “Shit, I’m terrible at this discussion,” she mumbled. “Look, the short of it is that people are hunting you down because you’re special. You’re like us—sort of.” She motioned between herself and Haven.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t follow… A cop?”

Tarryn let out a breathy, amused chuckle, and Haven’s eyes flicked open, dancing to match his quirked lips.

“No, no. Not a cop. Um… Have you ever noticed anything strange about your family? Like, where did you get that watch?” Tarryn motioned to her own chest, and Evie looked down.

Her pocket watch. Evie’s hand flew up to it, rubbing her thumb along the silver case’s seam with the thought of it slipping out in the chaos. “It was a gift from my grandpa. He gave it to me when I turned twelve.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“I mean… he made a joke that it was the last year he could give it to me because there are only twelve numbers on it.” She laughed quietly. “It doesn’t work though. It’s jammed, and I can’t get it to open. So it’s only really good for decoration.”

“You sure about that?”

Evie’s bemusement quickly faded. She wasn’t sure.

“Where are your parents? You said you had an aunt. What about the rest of your family?”

“They’re… They’re all gone. It’s just me and my aunt now.”

Tarryn hummed, biting her lip. “Well, unless she doesn’t know, I believe your aunt’s been keeping secrets from you.”

Evie’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“The watch isn’t just some family heirloom, Evie. It’s something that’s passed from predecessor to successor.”

She gripped the watch a little tighter, glancing over at Haven for some sort of confirmation. He only tilted his head with a slight raise of a shoulder, as if to say, ‘Well, she’s right.’

“There are people in this city who aren’t who they claim to be. It’s all a façade because they’re like us. Some of them may not realize it, but most of them do. Each has a gift or calling that—usually—helps the rest of the world along. We’re like fate’s little custodians, hard at work. We keep everything on track when it starts to shift off course.”

Evie cleared her throat. “That’s… uh… a little far-fetched, don’t you think?” she asked with an uneasy laugh.

Tarryn pressed her lips together, as if she were waiting for something.

I’ll be honest with you: you’re going to laugh.

Her mouth went dry.

“We’re broken into a total of nine variations. Everyone among us fits into at least one, but no more than two. For some reason, it seems that’s the limit, and they’re considered special cases. All of it is passed through family lines. Which brings me back to your aunt. However, since we have no real way to prove that, let me just start with a brief breakdown of each variation, starting with mine.”

She held up her hand, ticking off her index finger. “The eighth faction—hence my partner’s amusement in the elevator—are known as Keepers. We are considered to be the last line of defense between anyone ‘normal’ and those who are a part of the Custodians. We’re protectors and peacekeepers, which explains the name. Most of us end up being shuffled into law enforcement or cybersecurity or anything of a sensitive nature that requires handling.”

“Does that mean that all cops are Keepers?” Evie asked, her brows knitting together. So far, this didn’t seem all that strange, but her gut was telling her that it was about to be.

“No. There are plenty of normal people working as police. We have a special division just for us. They don’t know what we are, but they understand it’s a special unit.” She shrugged, ticking off another finger. “Anyway, let’s move on by counting down to seven. This is the number designated for the Inked. They’re the chaotic, reckless, starving-artist types that sometimes hang around tattoo parlors and manipulate people for fun. At some point in the distant past, they used to mark people for protection or temper those who might be a danger to others. The downside is that they enjoy that kind of stuff. They get a high off of lying, cheating, and stealing. Think of the stories about evil fairies, and that’s basically them. Everything comes with a caveat.”

Tarryn shivered. “And that’s enough about them, so let’s move on to Shade, the sixth faction. They can manipulate shadows in some capacity. Some can quite literally become shadows as well. It’s the perfect type of ability for espionage, which is why they can be both valuable and very dangerous. However, some can also slip into other people’s dreams or pull you into theirs.” She paused, eyeing her. “You still with me?”

“Like actual shadows? You’re saying someone could be in here with us, and we wouldn’t know?”

Tarryn surveyed the room. “After you’ve seen it enough times, I feel like it’s a lot easier to pick out. To the average person, not so much. Not to mention that it’s rather rare to find someone that good at it. A lot of them aren’t very careful about concealing themselves that well. They like to treat it like invisibility, but it’s not. Trust me, there’s no one else in here.”

Evie began to nod, anxiously glancing around the room while she continued with this bizarre imaginary system.

“That brings us to five, which includes my friend over here.” She held a hand toward Haven. “They’re called Mist. They’re the secret keepers, but more along the lines of general, vast, universe secrets that we occasionally pull from to glean information about what needs to be done to combat certain situations. Some are hearing, visually, or vocally impaired, some of them act cryptic, and a good chunk of them can break down a person’s mind and rebuild it to make them forget certain things.”

Evie’s mouth worked, unable to fathom how that was even possible.

“Outside of that, they’re a bunch of tight-lipped assholes who think that they’re better than everyone else because they just know things.” She shot him a glare. He rolled his eyes. “But Haven’s both Mist and a Keeper, so I guess that means he’s okay.” 

She waved a hand. “Tears are number four. They’re named for their remorse and mercy. They can manipulate water as an element, including blood to help the sick or injured. Most are typically in the health care field, and while they still use medicine, they can often help things along a little more efficiently. On the flipside, we have their counterparts at number three, which are the Animated. They can also help mend people with their affinity for fire. They’re also fire-resistant and can often summon fire. Once again, medical field, firefighters, or excellent chefs.”

Evie scoffed. “I think that’s probably the most outlandish one you’ve mentioned.”

“Oh, it gets better.” Tarryn smirked, holding up two fingers. “Two is the faction currently at the helm of New Atlas, though other major cities have different factions in the primary spot. Ours is the Spirits. Some of them, true to their name, can commune with actual spirits, but most are known for this connection to the space around us and divining from the celestial heavens.” Her voice turned into something akin to a preacher, somewhat mockingly with her face and arms tilted up to the ceiling. Her hands dropped after a moment. “They’re basically glorified fortune-tellers. They’re good at predicting shit.”

She held up a finger. “However, the future is nothing without the past. Which is why number one is the Trick. They can pull from history, and they are very much able to manipulate time. Granted, I’ve been told that it’s rather limited, but it still can impact things just as drastically. That’s where you come into play.” She pointed at her chest, straight at the pocket watch.

Evie’s mind was already far away by then, taken back to a house miles away from here. To a workshop filled to the brim with clocks. “I can’t turn back time,” she said, forcing a nervous giggle.

They didn’t laugh with her.

Oh, dear God. They think I can.

“No, seriously. There’s absolutely no way that’s possible.” Evie shot up from the edge of the bed. “I’ve never done it. I don’t even know how the hell I’d be able to anyway. I’ve never seen anyone else in my family do anything like that either. You have the wrong girl, so I’ll just go ahead and see myself out.” She grabbed her bag, starting for the door, praying Haven would step out of the way.

“I wasn’t done yet,” Tarryn said flatly from behind her. 

Haven pointed his finger upward, moving it in a circular motion like he was telling her to turn around. Despite her reservations, she did.

“Lastly,” she continued, “we have our ninth faction. It’s a catch-all of those who have decided they’d rather have normal lives, with or without the memory of their power. Some have committed a crime in which the council—a governing body consisting of one member from each of the eight main factions—decides for them to be stripped of their power. They’re called Fallen. All of the guys we ran into were a part of that faction. It’s likely they’re very much aware that you’re Trick, and they’re hoping to silence you. It could very well be connected to why all of the Trick in New Atlas have disappeared over the past decade and a half.”

“Wait…” Evie said slowly, the image of a car pulling out of a driveway playing through her mind. “Are you… are you implying that it wasn’t an accident that my parents died when I was younger? That they were targeted because of something they knew about all of this nonsense?” She motioned wildly between Tarryn and Haven, her stomach dropping as Tarryn’s expression turned sympathetic.

These people were insane. She was just kidnapped and told this entire wild story about a secret society of people that played puppet masters for the rest of the world. “Proof,” she said suddenly. “I want proof. And I want it now, or else I’m going to call the cops.” She pulled her phone from her bag. “The real cops.”

Tarryn clicked her tongue. “All right. I already told you that we are, but if you insist.” She jerked her chin toward Haven, and Evie spun back around to face him. He began tugging off one of his gloves, reaching for her hand. She froze, unsure of what he was about to do. He gently took it, and the world around her fell away.