JACKIE:

  I sat across from Beatrice Claudi, the most powerful woman in the world, my estranged grandmother, trembling under her judgmental stare. Everything I said and did was being dissected, torn apart, while my identity fractured into the rotten branches of my twisted family tree.

  I fiddled with the drawstring on my borrowed sweatpants, avoiding her unflinching gaze.

  “Tell me, Jackie. What do you want to gain?” Beatrice nodded at the chessboard. “Your turn.”

  Grappling with her question, I grabbed a pawn and pushed it forward, mimicking her move.

  Beatrice pushed another chess piece without hesitation. “We’re all searching for something, and we can enter the Slipstream to experience many probabilities. Try things out. If we work together, we can all win.”

  “I’ll never help you,” I said with spite. “You’re a nutjob who only cares about herself.”

  I braced myself for her response.

  Her mask didn’t slip. “That’s not the way to speak to your grandmother, Jackie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You treat other people’s lives like pawns in your game.”

  I swept my hand across the chessboard, knocking the pieces everywhere. I didn’t need her to showcase my lack of knowledge in a trivial game. We both knew she had me beat on every level.

  Beatrice laughed. “You’re so enmeshed, dear. With so many probabilities to explore in the Slipstream, why care about one person or thing in the physical world?”

  “You cause so much suffering, Beatrice. In the Slipstream and in this world.”

  I pointed at the smoke plume emanating from the burning island, as if I needed an example.

  Peering at Firestorm asleep behind me, I thought of how handsome he was as Zayne.

  “You’re quick to blame, but those people would suffer anyway,” Beatrice replied. “I’ve seen the future, and if I hadn’t created my fire portal, a seismic event would have erupted the volcano and spilled lava on the village instead.”

  I scoffed. Beatrice could justify anything.

  “How convenient,” I said sarcastically.

  “The Slipstream, and life, works on probabilities,” Beatrice explained. “Probabilities are determined by who we are. Rich people will almost always be rich. The poor will almost always be poor. You’re an exception to that one in this life, but you can’t escape the truth.”

  “What truth?” My ears flushed.

  Am I a Flyer in other probabilities?

  Beatrice rolled up her sleeves. “If you have an addictive personality, you’ll almost always become an addict. If you don’t have any fashion sense, even though we’re related, I can’t help you in that department, either.”

  Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, thick with silent disapproval.

  I could take a jab about my clothes. After all, I had taken them off a clothesline in mid-flight. But was she also insinuating something deeper about me having an addictive personality? She didn’t even know me…

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  “If you’re evil, you’ll always be evil,” I retorted.

  “That’s a subjective word, my dear. Isn’t a girl murdering her parents evil, too?”

  I raised my voice. “You create mutants so you can—”

  “Silence!” Beatrice pounded her fist against the table, cutting me off.

  A glimmer of pain flickered in her eyes, but she hid it and regained her composure. “I know Life Rite has issues, but Mark's death almost destroyed the serum’s promise. It was difficult to rebuild the project without your grandfather.”

  She put her hand to her heart. “This is his legacy, and I rebuilt it in his honor. If he could see how far I’ve come… We not only cure diseases, we offer eternal life!”

  “To the Flyers!” I crossed my arms. “At what cost to others?”

  “What can I say? It’s an expensive endeavor.” She was so cavalier about it all.

  “If Life Rite can cure anyone, what about Baxter? Did you save him? Is he safe?”

  Beatrice furrowed her brow, surprised by the question.

  “You know my Pops Baxter? He was shot in the street.”

  She sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jackie. I really am. We tried to save him, but his gunshot wound was fatal. It hit a major organ, and after days of intense care, he finally succumbed to his injuries.”

  The news felt like a gut-punch. Tears swelled in my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. It was all too much now.

  A raspy groan crawled up Firestorm’s throat as he fought the tranquilizer clinging to his blood. Awake, his limbs trembled, joints cracking as he tried to rise. His legs buckled, then straightened, then buckled again, but rage propelled him. He stood, sluggish, wings dragging behind him. Each pained step toward Beatrice shook the balcony.

  “You kept me in a cage. You tested on me, mutated me. And now you’re burning the sacred lands of my people. Enough!” His pupils dilated. Bloodlust burned in his eyes.

  As he towered over Beatrice, a spark of fire dripped from his mouth and singed her designer dress.

  Alpha flew around the tense standoff with its familiar clicking.

  “Stand down, Alpha.” Beatrice shooed it away with a wave of her hand.

  “You’re right, Zayne,” she replied quietly. “I’ve played the villain for long enough. Time to make some new decisions. See the story unfold in new ways. It’s easily within our power with the Slipstream. Let’s do things your way now.”

  Firestorm and I exchanged confused glances. We weren’t expecting that and had no clue what she had planned. Did she truly see the error of her ways?

  “How can we trust you?” I wiped my dripping nose.

  “Shall we consult the Slipstream to find out or let it unfold in real time?” Beatrice asked smugly.

  “What are you proposing?” I asked.

  “Jackie, I need your blood.”

  I instinctively yelled, “No way.”

  Beatrice paused, biting the side of her cheek to keep the irritation from spilling out. Then, with a measured breath, she continued.

  “It’s funny. I never wanted to have a child. I did it to make Mark happy, but now I see how valuable it was. Grace… and that creature, birthed a richer bloodline. You’re a natural gene carrier, Jackie. The first of your kind. Your blood can take Life Rite to the next level.”

  “Is my blood really that special? I can't imagine.”

  Beatrice nodded. “It is.”

  Firestorm stumbled and fell, the drug pulling him under.

  The balcony trembled under the weight of his fall, bolts creaking in protest.

  As I cradled his drowsy head, my brain pieced together the hole in my heart that I’d carried around my entire life.

  “You’ve been after my blood my whole life, haven’t you?” I asked Beatrice. “That’s why Grace gave me to Baxter. So you couldn’t get my blood?”

  A wave of forgiveness swept over me. “My mother didn’t want to abandon me. She was trying to protect me.”

  Firestorm nuzzled his beak into my armpit, and I hugged his neck. He was all I had left now.

  Beatrice said, “I can’t speak for Grace’s choices.”

  “You can’t have my blood.”

  “Jackie, let’s run Life Rite together.” Beatrice reached over and grabbed my hand.

  “You can’t be serious.” I pulled my hand away.

  “Imagine the good we can create with the company. We’ll make a fortune on wrinkle creams to keep us living in luxury, but we can also cure so many diseases. That’s how this whole thing started. Mark cured me.”

  “You can do that without me.”

  “Absolutely, but it’d be more fun together. We’re family, after all. Plus, you’ll keep me on the straight and narrow.”

  “What’s the catch?” I asked.