Lev pedaled through the streets, the afternoon heat clinging to his skin. The city felt quieter than it should have. Or maybe that was just in his head.

  At the same time, it felt too crowded. The students were on break, some emptiness was expected, but it seemed like every street had someone walking. A couple on a bench. A man with a dog. All too normal, like the calm before a storm.

  Lev shoved the thought aside and kept going.

  The ice cream parlor looked semi-deserted when he arrived. This close to campus, everything should have felt that way during break. He parked his bike and stepped inside.

  The bell tolled as the door swung shut, and a familiar voice called from the back. Moments later, John appeared, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “John, what’s up?” Lev asked. “What’s the deal with your message? Casey is gone.”

  John just nodded. “I know. The message wasn’t my idea, your sister insisted.”

  Lev reeled. Kara was here?

  “She wouldn’t say why,” John continued, “but she was adamant. Figured it couldn’t do any harm to listen to her, so I sent it.”

  Lev’s heartbeat picked up. His mind raced through possibilities. “Where is she?”

  John gestured toward the back. “Last booth.”

  Lev didn’t wait. He jogged down the corridor to the private gathering room.

  At the last booth, he spotted two people. One was Kara, wearing a baseball cap, hunched over a stack of papers, reading intently. The other was a guy Lev didn’t recognize. About his age, lean but built.

  Then Kara looked up. Her face lit up. She shot out of the booth and slammed into him so hard he stumbled back. She clung to him, and he pulled her in tight, too relieved to care about anything else. The second her arms wrapped around him, something inside him snapped back into place. Like someone had flipped on the lights in a room that had been dark for weeks.

  Warmth. Pressure. Reality.

  Kara was real. Here. And so was he.

  Then Kara started to cry.

  Lev froze.

  Kara never cried. She was older than him by almost three years, always the responsible one. Usually, she was scolding him, not breaking down in his arms. Seeing her like this didn’t hit him in the gut the way not being able to find her did, but emotionally, it was just as terrifying. Maybe more.

  His eyes snapped to the guy in the booth, suddenly on edge. Who the heck was this? If he’d hurt her—

  Lev narrowed his eyes. Hard to gauge his height sitting down, but the way he carried himself… He was still even as he watched them—shoulders back, expression calm. He was too controlled.

  Lev rubbed Kara’s back, letting her cry for a minute. Letting himself feel. Her breath. Her weight. The way his arms didn’t feel empty anymore. Then, when she calmed slightly, he gently pulled back.

  “Kara, what happened?” His voice was urgent but careful. “Your building caught fire. No one could find you. I thought—” His breath hitched. “I thought you might be dead. And then I get this cryptic message from John—”

  “I’m sorry,” Kara said, wiping at her eyes. “I wanted to contact you sooner, but I couldn’t risk it. I’ll explain everything, but it’s a long story. We should sit.”

  Lev nodded, trying to push down the lingering panic. His relief was already fraying at the edges. Because now, he had to figure out what had shaken Kara so badly.

  Kara pulled him toward the booth. Lev let her, sliding in beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, just to assure himself she was really there. The booth was annoyingly stiff, but that sensation was a footnote. Kara’s warmth was louder, quieting the panic humming beneath his skin.

  It put him directly across from the stranger. Lev’s eyes flicked to him. “Uh, Kara, do you think you could introduce me to your companion?”

  “Oh, right. Lev, this is Teorin Davorn. Teorin, this is my brother, Lev.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Teorin said. “Sorry it’s under such strange circumstances.”

  Lev studied him: polite, careful in a way that made his skin prickle. “Pleasure’s mine,” he said lightly. “And about these unusual circumstances…” He turned to Kara, waiting.

  She took a breath and explained everything. From Teorin showing up at her office. To the fire. To sneaking to the ice cream shop. He rubbed his fingers gently against the fabric of her shirt as she spoke. He tried to focus on the words and not just the fact she was there, but the more he heard, the less sense it made. When she finally finished, he sat back, arms crossed.

  “So let me get this straight,” Lev said slowly. “Because of this document, which you haven’t even translated yet, people either want to kill you or force you to translate it for them?”

  Kara smoothed down the corner of one of the pages on the table. “Something like that.”

  Lev dragged a hand down his face. His bookish sister. The one who spent her days buried in ancient texts. Somehow, she was caught up in all of this.

  It was mind-boggling.

  “What a lovely turn of events,” he muttered.

  Kara elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Ow.”

  “This is serious, Lev!”

  “Sorry,” Lev said, rubbing his side. “Just trying to lighten the mood. You two are kind of doom and gloom.” Lev leaned back and wrapped his arm back around Kara. “So, what do we do now?”

  “We?” Kara raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, we.” Lev shot her a look. “Do you seriously think I’m going to let you go off alone when you just told me someone is trying to kill you?”

  “You’re not exactly inconspicuous,” Kara pointed out. “Pretty sure at least half the planet knows who you are.”

  “So? If I have to wear a hoodie the whole time and dye my hair, I will.”

  “You hate hoodies.”

  “Oh, yes, and my clothing preferences are clearly the most pressing issue here,” Lev said dryly. Sure, sleeves dulled sensation and muted the world. Did she really think that would stop him?

  Kara was silent.

  “Just look at it as me making sweeping sacrifices for you. I’ll wear sleeves and everything.”

  Her fingers twitched.

  If they were alone, he would’ve turned up the charm: puppy dog eyes, the whole bit. Because just the thought of her disappearing—of not knowing where she was, not being able to reach for her—made his chest tighten. What if someone hurt her when he wasn’t there to stop it? He’d never forgive himself.

  Besides, he couldn’t function without her. Not normally. If she was gone, he’d have to run to someone—Mom, Uncle Rhett—just to keep it together. He hated doing that. It made him feel like a little kid begging to sleep in Mom’s bed during a storm.

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  Kara knew how much he needed her. She wouldn’t put him through that. Right? She always let him stay. Not like Dad. She never ignored him. Didn’t walk away. She wouldn’t start now, would she?

  And he was useful. She’d see that. She’d hate putting him in danger, but she’d see it.

  “I should send—” Kara started, and Lev panicked.

  He pressed in before she could say no. “Look, there’s no way I’m letting you go alone. Didn’t you say I’m already a target? So why leave me behind? It’s better to be in danger together, at least then we can watch each other’s backs.”

  Kara glanced at Teorin. Lev wasn’t sure how he felt about Teorin yet. He might have saved Kara’s life, but that didn’t mean Lev trusted him.

  Teorin just shrugged. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. We’re winging everything at this point anyway.”

  Kara eyed him, and Lev could tell she was close to giving in.

  “Please, Karbear? Let me help,” he whispered, using the childhood nickname as he rubbed her back just the way he knew she liked. “Please?” He didn’t hold back the desperation in his voice.

  Something in her expression fractured, and under his hand, her muscles relaxed.

  Lev grinned before she could even answer, hiding the immense relief that rushed through him. She wouldn’t abandon him. She didn’t do that.

  She glared at him, but also said, “Fine. You can come, but this isn’t some game.”

  “That’s what makes it fun,” Lev said, leaning in and planting a loud, wet kiss on her cheek.

  “Lev!” Kara yelped, scrubbing at her face. “You’re impossible.”

  “I know. It’s one of the reasons you love me, isn’t it?”

  Kara just snorted. “It’s one of the reasons I often want to strangle you.”

  Lev reached over and tweaked her nose. “Yeah, right.”

  She smacked his hand away, but she smiled. It stayed for a few seconds before slipping back into worry.

  Her voice dropped, and Lev’s shoulders tensed before he could stop them as she said, “Back to serious business. What are our next steps?” she asked, glancing at Teorin.

  “For now, we lay low until dark,” Teorin said.

  Kara frowned. “Is the dark really going to help?”

  Teorin tapped the table. “There aren’t that many people out right now. We need to stay unnoticed, so—”

  “Actually,” Lev interrupted, “there are more people out now.”

  Teorin stiffened. Then he swore under his breath. “Describe them.”

  Lev traced a pattern on Kara’s back, thinking. “It’s just people, but there are more of them, you know? And not students. It’s quiet, too. Creeped me out earlier, actually.”

  Kara turned to Teorin. “Who do you think it is?”

  Teorin’s jaw tightened. “I… don’t know. Could be the da Silvas. Could be someone else. But if they’re watching, we’re not moving. Not until dark, when we have some cover.”

  His gaze flicked to Lev. “You should head out. Staying here too long… if someone was watching you—”

  Lev tensed. Wait. Was Teorin saying someone had been tracking him this whole time?

  “Alright,” he said, keeping his voice even.

  Teorin slipped a folded note across the table. “I need you to call this number once you’re out.” His tone was calm, too calm. Like he’d done this before.

  Lev picked it up, glancing at the hastily scribbled digits.

  “It’s a Novem contact,” Teorin continued. “Tell them you have a message from Horizon-12. That I’m calling a vigilance. Then tell them where your parents are.” He held Lev’s gaze. “I don’t want them getting hurt.”

  Lev felt a prickle of unease. What sort of crazy spy novel nonsense…?

  “You think they’d go after them?” Lev asked.

  “I don’t want to find out,” Teorin said firmly. “Just give them the message. Nothing else on an open line, and you need to go. Meet us at campus tower in the lobby, thirty minutes after sunset. Got it?”

  Lev exhaled sharply. “Fine. Thirty minutes after sunset. Campus tower lobby.”

  “Make it look casual,” Teorin added. “Go for a run. Keep your route winding. Look like a guy just blowing off steam. And whatever you do, don’t get caught.”

  Lev’s fingers tightened on the paper in his hand. This was all new and different and wrong. “I need ice cream,” he muttered. Something familiar. Something real.

  Specifically, the caramel and pecan ice cream John had with the perfect amount of crunch. He could already taste it, but the memory was hollow, frustrating. His body recalled the feel, the flavor, without the satisfaction of the real thing. Still, it reminded him of Rhett. Of being safe.

  Teorin gave him an odd look.

  Lev just ignored it and turned to Kara. She bit her lip, watching him. If he didn’t leave now, she might change her mind.

  Without a word, he wrapped her in a quick hug, then slid out of the booth. His body screamed at him. It hated the part where he had to let go. He itched to move back, because how could he know she was safe if he couldn’t feel her?

  He ignored the itch.

  Kara hesitated, then shoved her backpack toward him. “Take this with you.”

  Lev caught it before it could slide off the table. He tugged at the zipper, the rough edge catching under his finger as he peeked inside. “Is this supposed to be your mobile library?”

  “Sort of.” She gave Teorin a pointed look. “The collection has been a little ravaged.”

  There was real pain in her voice. That wasn’t just a joke.

  “Want me to write it all out for you again?” Lev asked. “I have a great notebook collection. I’ll add little entertaining illustrations and bedazzled sticky notes and everything. Far more useful than before.”

  Kara snorted. “You’re turning my scholarly notes into a comic book?”

  Lev grinned back. “I’ll make sure there’s little illustrations of you telling me off too. It’ll be just like your rule list at home!”

  Kara leaned back and poked him with her foot. He caught it, and tickled along her ankle. She yelped, kicking at him, and he danced back, already retreating toward the front of the ice cream shop.

  “You’d better run,” Kara threatened.

  “Working on it. See you tonight.”

  “Be safe,” Kara said.

  Lev didn’t answer. It wasn’t himself he was worried about.

  Lev saluted her and walked to the front. John didn’t even ask. Just passed him a double scoop in a waffle cone, chocolate and sea salt caramel, and gave his shoulder a solid squeeze. His grip was steady, strong. Still in his prime, at what had to be seventy-something.

  “You looked distressed, so I went with sweet with a crunch,” John said, nodding toward the cone.

  Lev huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”

  It wasn’t his exact craving, but it was caramel and crunch, close enough. A new memory of comfort, because John cared.

  John got him like few people did, because he’d known Uncle Rhett first. And Rhett was the only other person who really understood what it meant to be like Lev. To be a Kinetic Memoran. To remember every sensation like it mattered. To need it, sometimes, just to stay sane.

  Lev sank into the booth near the front window, letting the cold hit his tongue, grounding him. The texture, the taste—real. Not just memory. Something steady when everything else was coming apart.

  He could see Teorin watching him from the back, disbelief plain on his face, but he didn’t care. Only after the last bite was gone did he head out the door, route already winding in his head. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to.

  ***

  Teorin watched Lev leave. He wasn’t sure what to think of him. He was just eating ice cream right after Teorin had informed him they were being hunted. What did he not understand about secret, lay low mission? Weirder still, Kara didn’t seem worried about it at all. She seemed to think that Lev could keep a secret.

  What in the actual cascades was with this guy?

  He’d seen Lev plenty of times—on sports vidstreams, in news segments, splashed across feeds with some new girl every month. Not because Teorin sought it out, Lev Tanel was just the kind of person you couldn’t avoid if you were on the net at all.

  Cocky. Flashy. Charismatic. The kind of guy who seemed to slide through life with too much charm and not enough sense.

  But this? Seeing him as a normal guy, teasing Kara, cracking jokes? It was strange.

  Teorin had expected someone louder, someone who needed to be the center of attention. Lev wasn’t quiet, exactly, but he wasn’t as loud as Teorin had imagined either. And his relationship with Kara just seemed so… wholesome. Not what he expected from someone who was supposedly in a new bed every couple days.

  It didn’t quite line up. Not with the image in Teorin’s head.

  And that mismatch made him uneasy.

  He hadn’t wanted to bring another person into this. But there wasn’t a good enough reason not to let Lev come, either. Not now. Not with the city feeling wrong. And he didn’t think Sasha would hesitate to use Lev against Kara.

  He was too easy to find. Too well known.

  “You sure he’ll be okay?” Teorin asked. “If he’s followed…”

  Kara snorted. “You think he doesn’t know how to lose a tail? Half the time he’s dodging reporters or fans just trying to get home. His normal routes practically involve scaling buildings.”

  Teorin blinked. “Scaling buildings?”

  Kara shrugged, a little too casually. “I saw him jump off one once. So… scaling, wall-running, dropping from balconies—you name it. He grew up playing keep-away with paparazzi.” She leaned back, crossing her arms smugly. “Honestly? You’d probably lose him before you made it down the block."

  Teorin stared at her for a second. “Right. Good reason never to be famous then.”

  Kara chuckled, but then her expression turned serious. “So, what’s the plan exactly? Why the tower?”

  “That’s our rendezvous point with Jeron.”

  Kara straightened one of the pages on the table. “Hmm. So, you do have a plan. I was starting to wonder if this was all improvising.”

  Teorin just looked at her.

  “Okay,” she continued, undeterred, “but if we’re meeting at the tower, why even consider the woods earlier?”

  Teorin exhaled. “Because there was a good chance we were being followed. Cutting through the woods would’ve let us shake them before doubling back near the university.”

  Kara studied him. “Do you think we were followed?”

  “I don’t know.” And that was the problem.

  If they were being tracked, they had probably lost them. Probably. But after what Lev had said about the streets feeling too crowded and too quiet—

  “And now?” Kara pressed.

  He met her eyes. “Now, we wait. And hope it stays that way.”

  Kara sighed. “I’m going to work on translating again.”

  “Great. I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when it’s time to go.”

  Kara frowned. “Are we really safe just sitting here?”

  Teorin stretched out in the booth. “For now. If someone was going to storm the place, they’d have done it already.”

  “Comforting,” Kara muttered, but she didn’t argue.

  Teorin shifted, trying to get comfortable. He had to bend his legs, propping his knees against the table so his feet wouldn’t hang off the end. Not ideal. Still, better than nothing.

  Then there was the shuffling of pages as Kara worked. Just a little thing, but it caught his attention. He closed his eyes, willing himself to rest. Whether it came or not was another question.

  [Archivist] Again, this is not rent.

  [Lev] It totally is. Look, Archivist, I’m basically doing what you do. You collect files, I collect good stories. Same thing.

  [Archivist] It is not the same. My role is preservation, not promotion.

  [Lev] Oh, so when you cross-reference a document, that’s not promotion? This is literally cross-referencing. With style.

  [Teorin] With nonsense.

  [Lev] Call it nonsense if you want, but this one’s about an archival intelligence. That’s basically what you do, right, Lianne?

  [Archivist] I am not an AI.

  [Lev] No, but you’re so impressive it sometimes feels like you are. Which makes this practically a sibling book. We’re an archive. It’s run by an archival intelligence. Siblings. And we are all about siblings, right? You wouldn’t turn away family.

  [Archivist] …Your logic is questionable, but permitted.

  [Lev] See? Even she agrees. Archival solidarity.