“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Miss Virtue stood up, and all the machetes moved a few inches closer as the Assata kids stepped forward, raising their blades to shoulder height. Miss Virtue looked down at them and narrowed her eyes. “Bilphena, call your puppies to heel.”
Ube came forward and tossed his half-eaten toast on the table. “Y’all chill,” he ordered. Half of them tried to protest, but he wasn’t having it. “I said chill. Is she even armed?”
“We haven’t got a chance to pat her down.”
Miss Virtue smiled without any humor. “They value their hands staying attached to their arms, you see.”
“Virtue, they are children!” Miss Bilphena said, shocked.
“Armed children. I like to keep that distinction clear, thank you.”
“Machetes down,” Ube insisted. “If she got into the house and through all of Sunflower’s wards without being detected, I don’t think those are going to do any good.”
Miss Virtue gave him an appraising look. “I see the stories are true. You are wise, little one.”
Ube bristled at the diminutive, but any objection he was about to voice faded away when the rest of the Assata kids shifted their gazes to the doorway and immediately lowered their weapons, stepping back as far as the room would let them. Miss Bilphena followed their stares and let out a tight smile.
“So nice of you to join us, Sunflower.”
Bitter whipped her head around. A woman stepped into the kitchen soundlessly, wearing glistening black sandals and a crisp midnight agbada that cascaded off her shoulders, its folds draped with a casual elegance. It was embroidered with shimmering thread, as if electricity ran through the fabric. The woman glanced at Miss Bilphena but didn’t respond to her welcome, shifting her eyes to assess Miss Virtue instead. Bitter couldn’t stop staring. Sunflower’s head was shaved bald, smooth dark skin wrapping around her skull. Her earlobes were thick with clusters of diamonds, tracking all the way to the tops of her ears and casting a light that made it seem as if small galaxies were orbiting around her head. Power radiated off her, silent and heavy, warping the kitchen. Blessing and Alex were staring just as hard as Bitter was, but the Assata kids were either averting their gazes or sneaking their admiring looks in, as if Sunflower wouldn’t notice. Only Ube looked at her directly, as did Miss Bilphena.
Sunflower ignored both of them and walked up to Miss Virtue, who didn’t move so much as a muscle on her face. They both looked out of place in the Assata kitchen, both with a sharpness to them that was perhaps just the edge of power making itself known. Everyone found themselves holding their breath. Sunflower’s cheekbones were sculpted ridges cutting through her skin, and her eyes were dark as she searched Miss Virtue’s face. The standoff held for a tense minute before Sunflower flashed a little smile, showing a gap between her front teeth that was also bridged with diamonds. “Interesting,” she said in a low, husky rasp.
Miss Virtue tilted her head to one side. “Indeed.”
They looked at each other for a few more moments before Sunflower gave a sharp nod and turned to leave the kitchen. “There has been no breach,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Miss Bilphena stood up, clutching her robe around her, agitated. “Sunflower! She’s clearly standing here.”
“Yeah, thought you said no human being would ever make it through your wards,” Ube added, but his voice was gentle, not confrontational.
Sunflower stopped at the door, and the look she threw to them was immensely amused. “Yes,” she agreed. “Not a single human has ever made it through.” And then she was gone, and only the faint hint of rose was left behind in the air. Everyone gaped in confusion, and Miss Virtue sighed.
“Can you address your security issues later?” she asked. “I need to know what the angels told you when they arrived. Also, in case we’ve all forgotten, Lucille is slightly on fire. I think our new friends might have something to do with that.”
Bitter raised a hand. “You think they set the fires?” she asked. Surely, Vengeance couldn’t have been behind them. Bitter couldn’t imagine the angel burning people alive, and yet … she was painfully aware that she didn’t know what Vengeance was capable of, the lengths it would go to.
“We’re not sure what’s going on with those,” Ube replied. “They got started last night, and the cops have been cracking down extra hard on the protesters for it. Several cop cars were set on fire, and we got word that a bunch of places are burning. The courthouse, the prison on the south side, all of the precincts.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “All eleven of them?”
“Apparently.”
She grinned. “Sounds like a win to me.”
Ube gave her a look. “We don’t know what set it off. The protests have been continuing since last night, and the first wave of injuries is already larger than it’s been in the past week combined.”
“It’s not Assata maintaining the protests? Or starting the fires?” Blessing asked.
Ube leaned forward in his chair. “You do realize that only some of us organize the protests, and we don’t even gotta be out there for them to happen, right? The people of Lucille show up for themselves.”
“It’s a bold move to set the precincts on fire, though,” Aloe said thoughtfully. “The cops are going to push back hard.”
“It’s the angels,” Miss Virtue replied. “They’re fond of fire as a symbol, a cleansing. With the new day comes a new world.”
“How would you know?” Ube shot at her, his eyebrows drawn tightly together.
Miss Virtue bared her teeth in a polite smile that promised nothing and threatened quite a lot. “Fewer questions, more damage control. What did they tell you?”
Bitter exhaled and stepped forward to start the story from the beginning. She didn’t look at Miss Virtue as she confessed how she’d called Vengeance out of the painting, how they’d seen the second angel in Alex’s studio, then run into more in the atrium when they got to the safe house. “Hibiscus persuaded a bunch of the others to volunteer for the hunt, and then the angels vanished with them,” she finished.
Miss Virtue was looking at her intently. “But you didn’t volunteer? Even though you called out the first one?”
Bitter bristled. “I eh know it was going to be like this!”
“Yes, people rarely do when they pray.” Miss Virtue tapped a marbled nail against the table. “So—they’re hunting.”
“It wasn’t a prayer,” Bitter objected.
The woman’s gray eyes skimmed over her. “Wasn’t it?” she retorted, but she didn’t wait for Bitter’s answer. “Based on what you told them or what the others might have told them, who do you think they will kill first?”
The casualness of her tone made Bitter feel sick. “I real hoping they won’t kill anyone,” she said.
Miss Virtue gave her a sympathetic look. “Come now, child.”
“Vengeance said it would never hurt me!” Bitter’s voice sounded futile even to her own ears.
“You are a gate. It cannot hurt you.”
“Theron,” said Blessing. “They’d go for Dian Theron first.”