Yara blinked. Then she looked around. No one else I could’ve been talking to. Turning back to me, she softly said, “Uh, hello. I’m Yara. Pleased to meet you.” She gave me a little nod, almost a bow.

A weird reaction. If I didn’t know Yara had only one living sibling, her brother, I would’ve thought the person I was speaking to was her twin or something. When I inadvertently met Yara as Domino, she glared daggers at me, demanding who I was. Back then, Domino wore the illusion of Yara’s deceased sister—probably half-sister—because of their mother. That could be a factor for Yara’s nasty reaction. 

Now, she sounded… nice. As I neared, she hesitantly stood up, offering a hand. But I already took a seat beside her. Hand still out, she sat back down, wearing a confused face.

Grinning, I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you too, Yara. This is the first time we’re meeting, isn’t it?”

Yara should be assuming I was someone high up in the 2Ms hierarchy. A random girl walking into a program attended by the 2Ms’ clients? The guards weren’t stopping me or anything. More than likely I was an Adumbrae. And an Adumbrae on this cruise was someone important, especially with how I strutted about. Confidence does pay off when wearing a disguise, as Reo had said.

This wasn’t even a disguise. I am an Adumbrae.

Just not the sort Yara was thinking.

My hunch was that Yara wasn’t an Adumbrae herself. Not yet, anyway. I was using use the same playbook as when Deen and I first met Bianca—Deen pretended she wanted a friend her age in the 2Ms’ organization. That was my idea, so why not recycle it? I was going to play it by ear if this’d work on Yara.

“Yes, this is the first time,” Yara replied. “Ms. Er-eren…?”

“It’s Erind,” I said.

“Yara McHunter,” she said, nodding again.

“I know. And you’ve already introduced yourself.” This bitch was baiting out my surname because she couldn’t recognize my first name. I didn’t bother lying since the 2Ms knew who I was anyway, but I didn’t want Yara to be judgmental about my surname, or its unrecognizability, if that was even a word.  

“I’m sorry, Ms. Erind. I was flustered at mispronouncing your name,” she said, not looking flustered at all. She had composed herself, probably realizing this was a great opportunity to rub shoulders with someone important. “Let me apologize for that. I should’ve listened carefully when you introduced yourself.”

“Many people get my name wrong. Really not surprising. It’s not a common name, at least in this part of the world. So is yours.”

She nodded, a bit too eagerly. “When my father heard this name decades ago during one of his business travels in Brazil. He loved it so much that promised himself to name his first daughter ‘Yara’. My mother took some convincing, but she eventually gave in.”

First daughter?

Right, Raphaela was the McHunter, not her husband. Yara was from Raphaela’s second marriage, assuming there weren’t more.

Was there even an actual marriage? Why was Yara carrying her mother’s surname? In this scenario, under California statutes, it would either mean Raphaela wasn’t married to Yara’s father—and that was a whole can of worms—or Yara had a double surname but omitted using the first one. Could be that the surname of Yara’s father didn’t command prestige like ‘McHunter’. I was proud of myself for remembering some law stuff.

“That’s a cool story,” I said, deciding it was tactless to ask about her surname situation. Also, I should already know about her background if I was with the 2Ms.

“Thank you, Ms. Erind. It’s a fond memory of my father.”  

Did that mean her dad was dead? I don’t care. After seeing how bitchy Yara could be, her fake politeness made me want to puke. She was obviously trying to butter up to me.

Theory time—the McHunters were newcomers into the fold of the 2Ms. They could hardly risk getting involved with Adumbrae after Raphael McHunter was executed by the BID. But now, they were following in the illegal footsteps of their lost patriarch because they thought enough time had passed and the heat was off them. Maybe they needed money? More money. Power? The usual stuff.

Or the McHunters could’ve been in the 2Ms’ outer circle and were now trying to join the more exclusive club of monsters after seeing an opportunity. Plenty of vacancies after the BID raided the 2Ms’ base. There were high-profile arrests and investigations after that incident—probably an understatement to call it an incident—but there was nothing about the McHunters. They might not be important enough to attend the underground arena of Eve the fateful night I was also there.

In any case, Yara didn’t want to offend me and I found it very entertaining. I was more than half certain she was still human. Her family must be joining the trip to Red Island. Let’s see if I can confirm my hunch.

“Enough about my name,” I said. “Are you alone? Oh, wait. I see your mother down there. Your brother too, beside her. Why are you sitting away from them?”

“This is just not my… thing. No offense to Mr. Hugh. His talk is very inter—”

“Boring,” I cut in, smiling at her. “Who cares about construction? Oops! I guess your family, because of that project you’re cooking up.” Thank you, Jeffrey, for the assist.

“You know about it, Ms. Erind?”

“Not much. Just that your family might free up some of your legally entangled lands and Mr. Hugh’s company’s going to develop them. But that’s boring to talk about.”

“It is.” Yara frowned. “Even if I found it interesting, I have no part in its planning whatsoever. Sometimes, my brother is included in their meetings, but not me.” She sighed. “You might even know about it more than I do.”

Something spicy? “Why did they exclude you? They think you’re too young or what? Not good with financial stuff?”  

“Too superficial, or so they say. I’m not even sure what it means.” Yara tossed her hair back as she rolled her eyes. “They raised me to be this way and now they’re complaining about it. If they trained me in business, I could be just as good as anyone. But that’s how the way things are. I’m relegated to being the spoiled socialite daughter who has no real say in the family. Some of my relatives forget that I exist.”

I wondered if her parentage had something to do with it. “But you’re here? You’re not as unimportant as you say. I’m assuming you’re not just on vacation on this cruise.”

Yara chewed her tongue while staring at the backrest of the seat in front of her. Several seconds ticked by. I listened to Spence Hugh discuss new construction materials for buildings in areas prone to Adumbrae seedings. Interesting. I wanted to test if I could punch a hole through this hyper-modern reinforced concrete stuff.

“You’re right, Ms. Erind,” Yara finally said. “But you already know I’m not on vacation.”

“See? Your family trusts you if you’re their representative,” I replied, hoping that I didn’t misunderstand what she implied.  

“To be candid, I’m not sure trust is the right word. I don’t want to speak ill of my family, but—”

“You don’t?” I grinned to show she could freely speak.

I detected hints of bitterness in her voice. Her resentment was an opening. I’m friendly and lovable. Did I mention cute? Why wouldn’t Yara want me to be her confidant, especially in this scary organization? I bet I could make her trust me over anyone else. This wasn’t even about finding a way to bring the hero wannabes along to the Red Island. Manipulating people for no reason was fun. Gotta exercise my manipulation muscles.

Yara glanced at the front row, a smirk flitting across her face. She could either continue pretending to obediently follow her family’s wishes or reveal her true thoughts to me.

I gambled that she was assuming that I knew her whole story—even though I didn’t—and would think it was useless to lie. She’d probably rather go with the truth to show sincerity and endear herself to me since I could be a source of favor someday. Yara should have plenty of experience navigating these kinds of social situations; her buttering-up efforts were proof.

“I…” Yara tilted her head and then shrugged. “Hmmm… my situation is akin to getting married off to a foreign power for a political alliance.”

“You view yourself as a princess, then?”

She smiled, but still had somber eyes. “I’m not sure if I prefer this to getting hitched to someone I didn’t know in a faraway country. If the marriage doesn’t work out, there’s always divorce. That option’s not available here if I change my mind.” She let out a hollow, sarcastic laugh.

“Well, I don’t think that’s speaking ill at all.” I turned to face her as if giving my full attention. “Just seeing things how they really are. And your concerns are very much valid.”

“I want to help my family,” she said. “This is the option… available to me. It doesn’t sound as grand when I put it that way. But if all goes well, this will have the most impact given our situation.”

I didn’t understand that last part, but Yara’s words made me think she wasn’t so bad after all. She might be a decent person deep inside, like those rich mean girls in movies who became that way because of family issues and ended up changing at the end, becoming friends with the protagonist they were bullying. Reminds me of Deen.

However, Deen wasn’t a bitch even though her family mostly ignored her. Granted, her family wasn’t pushing her to become a monster, so there was that key difference. Maybe I should introduce Yara to Deen?

“So, how are you feeling about it?” I asked.

“It’s for the family, so I—”

“Not that. I meant what are you feeling about your impending, uh, change.” This’d be embarrassing if I got it wrong.  

“I only have a couple of days as a human left,” said Yara, her eyes returning to the stage but unfocused. She clenched her hands on the armrests.

Jackpot. I was right. She was going to Red Island to get monsterified.

“There’s nervousness,” she said, ticking off a finger. “What else? Anxiety. Hesitation. Those just go along with each other. Also, actual fear. Did you also feel any of those things, Ms. Erind?”

“Not really, no,” I said. I couldn’t really feel those emotions, I added inwardly. “What you’re feeling is normal, especially given the context. But there’s a difference between us. I went into this for my own… reasons… and not for others. I willingly did this.”

“I’m also doing this willingly.”

I snorted. “You know what I meant. External, internal thing.”

She slowly nodded. “Yes, there’s a difference between our… motivations.”

“Are you regretting—?”

“I’m not!” Yara briskly answered, suddenly sitting straight, drawing the attention of some guards. Was she worried about giving the impression she didn’t want to be an Adumbrae like me? That I might take it as offensive or something? She continued, “This is my choice and my choice alone. I could’ve refused it, but I didn’t. No one forced me into this.”

Stupidly rationalizing with herself. Probably also protecting the image of her family. I bet I could talk her out of this if I wanted to. A fun challenge but too bad it ran counter to my plans.

“I understand what you’re going through and—” I stopped, noticing a hulking man enter the row we sat in.

It was the guard staring at me earlier. As he approached, I realized he was the idiot at Big Marcy’s office who almost attacked me after noticing I had blood on me. If Big Marcy didn’t stop him, he would’ve met the same fate as the guard who did attack me. He also cleaned up after my mess—the dead guard—so he wasn’t immediately deleted from my memory for being insignificant.  

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hartwell,” he said, bowing. “Do you need any assistance?”

This motherfucker blurting out my name! I noticed Yara raised a brow. “Hello there, Biggins!” I gave him a mischievous smile. That’d make him think I was up to no good. “My new friend and I were just chatting.”

“It’s Wiggins, Ms. Hartwell,” he replied.

“You’re big, so I remembered you as Biggins. Close enough, surprisingly. I usually suck at remembering people’s names. You’re Biggins.”

“Biggins, it is then, Ms. Hartwell.” His jaw muscles tensed. I noticed a vein throb near his temple. From his point of view, talking to me was like defusing a nuclear bomb. He continued, “Perhaps I could entice you with a relaxing spa or afternoon tea at the Eden café. Boss told me to make sure you get the full experience of what this cruise has to offer.”

“Maybe later. I’m having fun here.”

“I don’t imagine this talk is of particular interest to you,” he said. “Perhaps you and Ms. McHunter can go to—”

“Oh, I’m staying,” Yara said. “Mother accepted Mr. Hugh’s invitation for our family to attend his talk. It’d be rude if I left.”

“Is that so? Then, I’ll accompany only Ms. Erind to the—”

“I’m staying too, Biggins,” I cut in. That was a good way to try to get me out of here. He likely knew Yara couldn’t leave. The café offer did sound good. “I want to learn more about construction. I only know about the other side—destroying stuff.”

Understanding my thinly veiled threat, Wiggins the Biggins left us alone and returned to his post. A slight distraction but it gave me street cred. Did I use that term correctly? His intrusion bolstered Yara’s image of me as being influential in the organization.

Yara said, “Ms. Hartwell—”

“Just call me Erind.”

“Ms. Erind, then?” she asked. I shrugged. She leaned closer to me and whispered, “What should I expect when I reach the Red Island?”

Thank you for bringing that up, I celebrated in my head. “I can’t tell you.”

“I know it’s a secret and I shouldn’t know about it because I’m still not a—”

“I can’t tell you because I can’t remember.”

Yara raised a brow.

“Our memories are wiped before we leave Red Island,” I said, recalling Vanessa’s explanation of why she couldn’t give me any information. “An Adumbrae stationed there has the power to do it.”

“That makes sense,” said Yara, nodding.

“I don’t know if it’s painful or not. The operation or ritual or ceremony or… I seriously have no clue what’s being done to us there. Probably something medical because they give us pills for our maintenance and do some psychologist stuff with us afterward.”

I got that information from Vanessa’s friends, those idiots who found me in the tunnels beneath the city after I escaped the BID’s nuke. I couldn’t remember much of what they said, just that they were speculating on how that Adumbrae cocoon thing formed in Eve’s arena. Heck, I couldn’t even remember any of their names. Vanessa would be sad if I told her that.

“I’ve been told that much,” said Yara.

“If it’s medical, on an operating table and stuff, they’re going to use anesthesia. If it’s something super invasive, like major surgery levels, they have to knock us out. If you’re worried if it’s safe or not, I don’t know of anyone dying during the procedure, whatever it actually is. Rumors would easily get around if this or that guy was supposed to, you know, change, and he doesn’t come back to his family. The organization can’t cover that up.”

Yara frowned. “Maybe they can…?”

I tapped my temple. “Think about it. If something went wrong with your operation, your family’s going to raise hell if you’re returned to them as a pile of mutated flesh, right?”

“Um… I’d rather not think—”

“Let’s say you died instead. Same case. They’ll return your body—or even not—and your family will complain. There’s no way to hide that. Maybe they can cover up some failures, but not all. I heard nothing whatsoever about people dying during the operation. I’m sure you’ve asked around too.”

Yara nodded. “All I’ve heard were success stories.”

“Bottom line, there’s nothing to worry about in the safety department.”

Yara drew a deep breath. “Thank you for your assurance, Ms. Erind. I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of my nerves, but I’m feeling a lot better. I’m glad I met you.”

“You know what will make you feel better? How about you hang out with us tomorrow at Catalina Island?”

“Us?”

“Me and a friend of mine. She’s a Leska.”

“I didn’t know someone from the Leska family has… turned.”

“Oh, she’s human. But she knows my secrets. I brought her along for the ride because it’s lonely and boring if all I have to talk to are these people.” I gestured to the 2Ms’ clients sitting in the tiers below us. “I’m not on this cruise to go to the Red Island. I just have some meetings here, and it’s all vacation for me. That’s why I have a friend along. Would you like to come with us?”

“I’ll be glad too.”

I chatted with Yara for a few more minutes before leaving. Biggins the Wiggins approached me again, but I declined all the luxury stuff he offered. I had to find Jubjub and Imani after I cooked up a story about how I managed to connect with Yara McHunter.

All in all, Yara wasn’t so bad. Someday, she could become an ally—a pawn. Someone I could use even after my planned party at Red Island.

I hadn’t thought much beyond destroying Red Island and burying the hero wannabes there. That wouldn’t be the end of my worries. It was going to be the start of more troubles. Before, this prospect would’ve annoyed me. But now, it sounded fun.

“Maybe I want the world to bother me…” I muttered.

“Pardon, ma’am?” said the woman outside the theater that Imani and Jubjub entered.

“Oh, I was just talking to myself,” I said as I entered the door.