I hesitate over Kaitlyn Smith, then add her anyway. She might hate me now, but I'm not leaving her unprotected. Each name I write feels like a bargain with the devil - protection now for unknown consequences later. Every person on this list becomes a data point in Rogue Wave's files. Forever.

  "The usual suspects?" Lily asks, peering over my shoulder.

  "Plus some people from my old middle school." I tap my pen against the paper. "I'm trying to figure out how far to go. Teachers? Neighbors? Where's the cutoff?"

  "Prioritize the people Shrike could reasonably connect to you," Lily suggests. "Anyone who's been seen with you publicly, anyone who might be in news footage or social media posts with you."

  "That's still a lot of people," I mutter, adding Councilman Davis to the list. "My whole school has seen me go viral twice. I just don't think my name is attached to those videos. Otherwise I'd get weird fan mail all the time."

  "Yeah, but Shrike doesn't know which school you go to yet," Lily points out. "That's why he's checking high schools one after another."

  The side door chimes again, and we both tense until the security feed shows Amelia's face, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, dressed like she just got done a gymnastics recital.

  "Just me," she calls out as she enters, swinging a coiled leather cord in one hand. "Brought my new toy."

  "Your what?" I ask, momentarily distracted from my grim task.

  Amelia grins, holding it up for inspection. The whip is about six feet long, deep brown leather with intricate braiding along its length. "Made it myself. Been working on it for weeks."

  "I thought you bought those," Lily says, examining the craftsmanship.

  "I did, at first. But then I got into leatherworking. Better control when you make your own." Amelia runs her fingers along the braids. "This one's kangaroo hide. Most responsive leather there is."

  "Is it... ethical kangaroo?" Lily asks cautiously.

  Amelia rolls her eyes. "Yes, Mother Teresa. Ethically sourced from populations that need culling anyway. They're considered pests in parts of Australia."

  "Just asking," Lily mumbles.

  "Are your parents asleep?" Amelia asks me, glancing toward the stairs.

  "Mom's taking a shower. Dad's on a work call," I reply. "Why?"

  Amelia glances at Lily, then back to me. "Should probably talk about the Shrike situation"

  "I need to finish this list first." I gesture at the paper. "Rush Order's coming back for it tonight."

  "That's part of what we need to discuss." Amelia drops into a chair, laying her whip across the table. "What exactly is our plan here? Just hunker down and hope Rogue Wave's protection holds?"

  I set my pen down, looking between them. "Actually, I've been thinking about that."

  "Why do I suddenly feel nervous?" Lily asks no one in particular.

  "I'm going to respond to Shrike's invitation," I say firmly. "At the Metropolitan Opera House. But on my terms, not his."

  There's a moment of stunned silence.

  "You're joking," Lily says flatly.

  "I'm not." I lean forward, lowering my voice. "Look, right now he has all the power. He's terrorizing schools, threatening everyone I know, playing his sick games because he knows I'm hiding. But what if I flip the script?"

  "You mean walk into an obvious trap?" Amelia asks, though she sounds more curious than dismissive.

  "A trap works both ways," I argue. "If I know it's a trap, I can prepare. Set my own ambush."

  Lily shakes her head. "Sam, this is exactly what he wants. He's literally asking you to meet him so he can kill you."

  "No, he's asking me to pick the place and day. He picks the time." I tap the table emphatically. "That gives me control over the location. I can choose somewhere we can set up surveillance, escape routes, backup. And he said if I play around with him then he'll go after my friends and family, but if that angle is covered..."

  The side door chimes again, and the security feed shows Tasha, loaded down with a bookbag that looks bigger than a small child. A minute later, she enters, dropping her stuff with a heavy thud. "Traffic is insane out there. Police have checkpoints every six blocks, and there are news vans circling the neighborhood. Plus I saw Turbo Jett. Just kind of grousing around like a bird."

  "Great," I mutter. "More eyes."

  "Did you bring your whole apartment?" Amelia asks, eyeing Tasha's luggage.

  "Homework," Tasha replies, glancing at the entrance to the room that is, nominally, our comms center. "And maybe an extra computer I salvaged from a dumpster."

  "Perfect timing," I say. "We were just discussing whether I should respond to Shrike's invitation."

  "And you're actually considering this?" Tasha asks incredulously.

  "Not considering. Deciding," I correct her. "I'm going on the offensive."

  Tasha sits down heavily. "With what army?"

  "Me," I declare. "And anyone else willing to help me. But I'll do it myself if I've gotta."

  Amelia leans forward, skeptical. "So what's your actual plan?"

  "I leave a message at the Opera House, specifying a location that works to our advantage. Somewhere we can control access points, set up surveillance, and position backup. Then we prepare for every contingency."

  "Your parents will never agree to this," Tasha points out.

  "I know." I run a hand through my hair. "That's why I need your help. All of you."

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Everyone looks at each other.

  "We should call Maggie," Lily suggests. "She's part of the team too."

  I pull out my phone and dial her number. She picks up on the second ring.

  "Sam? Everything okay?" Her voice is slightly breathless, like she's been running.

  "Team meeting. Putting you on speaker." I set the phone in the center of the table. "I'm planning to respond to Shrike's invitation. Set up a confrontation on our terms."

  There's a brief pause, then Maggie's voice bursts from the speaker. "Hell yes! Finally! I've been saying we need to take the fight to him!"

  "Whoa, slow down," Amelia interrupts. "This isn't a video game. One wrong move and Sam ends up with spikes through her organs."

  "I know that," Maggie says, her voice dropping. "But hiding hasn't exactly been working either."

  "You haven't been saying that at all," Lily mumbles.

  "Well, I've been thinking it," Maggie replies. "We can't just hide forever while this psycho terrorizes my mentor. What's the plan?"

  "That's what we're discussing," I explain, filing away the mentor comment for later. "I want to pick a location that gives us the advantage."

  "Before we go any further," Tasha says slowly, "I need to know - are you doing this because you think it's tactically sound, or because you feel guilty about putting everyone else at risk?"

  I swallow, and I think. One after the other, not simultaneously. "Both," I admit after a moment. "I hate that he's targeting schools, terrorizing innocent people, all to get to me. But also, I genuinely think taking control of the situation is our best option. If we keep hiding, he'll just keep escalating until he finds me anyway. His whole MO is continuous escalation to force a response. If I just never respond to his invite, I bet he'll start killing people anyway."

  Amelia fiddles with her whip, considering. "If - and that's a big if - we did this, what location would you choose?"

  "Somewhere with minimal surface area," I reply immediately. "Less material for him to prepare with spikes. And poorly lit."

  "Poorly lit?" Lily asks.

  "So I can use my blood sense," I explain. "I can track him in the dark. He can't track me."

  "There's that abandoned warehouse on Delaware Avenue," Tasha suggests reluctantly. "The one they were going to demolish before the funding fell through. Open floor plan, minimal wall surfaces, and the electricity's been off for months."

  "How do you know these things?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  "I pay attention to the neighborhood. I don't know if you know this, Sam, but our little crusade is like most of my life now," Tasha says, smiling.

  Ah. That makes me feel bad, so I shunt the feeling away for later.

  "Plus there's that grove of trees behind it," Tasha adds. "Gives us places to position backup without being exposed."

  "You're actually considering this?" Lily asks, incredulous.

  "I'm considering all options," Tasha replies, turning her attention to unpacking her equipment. "Especially since our current plan is 'hide and hope for the best.'"

  "I'm not just considering it, I'm in," Maggie declares through the phone. "We take the fight to him, on our terms, in our territory."

  "A warehouse still gives him plenty of surfaces to work with," Lily points out. "What about somewhere more open? A park?"

  "Too exposed," Amelia counters. "We'd have nowhere to hide."

  "What about the construction site on Van Kirk and James?" I suggest. "It's mostly steel beams and concrete foundations right now. Minimal completed walls. And it has good sight lines from the auto yards nearby and the highway for surveillance."

  "That could work," Tasha says thoughtfully. "We could set up observation posts in the buildings across the street."

  "I love it," Maggie enthuses. "When are we doing this?"

  "We're not doing anything yet," Amelia says firmly. "We're just discussing options."

  "Hey, speaking of surveillance," I say, seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood slightly, "Tasha needs a codename."

  "What?" Tasha looks up from her cables.

  "Everyone else has one," I explain. "You're basically our mission control now. You need a handle. You're a superhero like the rest of us."

  Tasha blinks at me slowly, like a cat. "I was thinking Argus, or Panoptes," She says, "but that's too close to Argus Corps. All the good surveillance names are taken."

  "What about Peacock?" Amelia offers.

  "More like poopcock," Maggie mumbles in size 4 font, giving herself a delightful little titter.

  "No thanks," Tasha replies.

  "What about Lighthouse?" I offer. "You guide us, keep us from crashing on the rocks."

  "Ooh, I like that," Maggie's voice crackles through the speaker. "It fits."

  Tasha considers it. "I like that better than Pissdick. Lighthouse it is. Can we get to the actual conversation now that we've had our little fun distraction?"

  "So we're really doing this?" Lily asks nervously, looking around the table. Clearly trying to rein things back to the topic at hand.

  "We're planning it," I clarify. "Whether we actually do it depends on how good our plan is."

  "I'm in," Maggie says immediately. "One hundred percent."

  No one looks convinced by this, but they don't press the issue. Nobody else even says 'I'm in'. There's no big heroic team moment. They all just look nervous.

  "Okay, team, you're, uh... Dismissed for duty. Please go get some Wawa," I say to the assembled group.

  Tasha pulls out a bag full of bread and peanut butter. "Way ahead of you."

  "You are so weird," I add.

  As everyone disperses, doubt creeps in. Am I really ready to face Shrike? Or am I just desperate to feel like I'm doing something - anything - other than hiding? The image of those security guards, bound and terrified, flashes through my mind. What makes me think I can handle someone who does that for fun?

  But the alternative is worse: waiting for him to find me unprepared. Waiting for more innocent people to suffer while I hide.

  I return to my list of names, now with renewed purpose. If my plan works, maybe I won't need Rogue Wave's protection for long. Maybe I can end this myself, on my terms. Lily's gone home to do her duties as delivery person for her parents. And my parents are busy doing their parents thing. Parents parents parents parents parents. It stops sounding like a word after a while.

  It's maybe an hour later before the security alert chimes, interrupting my thoughts.

  "It's a pizza guy," Tasha tells us.

  "It's Rush Order," I clarify. "Right on schedule. He's just here for the list." I head toward the door, then pause. "But maybe keep an eye on the security feed, just in case."

  I step outside into the cool night air. Rush Order is leaning against the wall, casually eating what appears to be a gyro. He's still wearing a fake delivery guy costume, or maybe it's a real one he stole, but this time his glasses are red and with a slightly different flame.

  "Package time," he says through a mouthful of food. "Got my list, Small?"

  I hold up the folded paper but don't immediately hand it over. "Before I give you this, I need to know something."

  "Twenty questions? Fun game." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Go ahead, shoot."

  "What you said about Maya Richardson. Was that true, or were you just messing with me?"

  Rush Order's grin widens. "Truth is such a flexible concept, isn't it?"

  "Answer the question."

  "List first."

  I stare at him blankly. "Why are you doing this?"

  "Chaos," he says simply. "I'm not your friend, remember? I just find you interesting. When interesting people get interesting information, interesting things happen." He holds out his hand. "The list?"

  I hesitate, then hand it over. "All done."

  He unfolds it, scanning the names quickly. "Comprehensive. Good girl."

  The patronizing tone makes my teeth clench. "Your turn."

  "When I know someone's name, I know where they are. Like a homing pigeon," he says, stuffing the list into the waistband of his shirt. Now, all of a sudden, I want to grab it back from out of his hands, but he takes two steps back out of my wingspan before I can really even think about it. "Maya was way more North than whoever was in Harrisburg. I can't tell you where, exactly, but I could tell you relative angle and distance. Somewhere in New York."

  I stare at him like he's just told me a magic invocation. Or started speaking three different languages at once. "How do I know you're not lying? To get me to start something."

  "I can't make you do anything, Bloodhound. Even if I put a gun to your head you still have free will. Or do you?" His trademark grin returns. "Sweet dreams, Bloodhound. Don't let the Nazi bedbugs bite."

  I almost reach for the list again, but he sees my shoulder twitch and responds faster than I can slip my hand out. "Ah ah ah. We shook on it, remember?"

  "You're a bad person. I want you to know that once I'm done with Shrike and the Kingdom, you guys are next," I say through grit teeth, trying to sound bigger and meaner than I am. The words sound hollow even to my own ears. I'm literally dependent on their protection right now, and we both know it.

  "Sounds great. Can't wait!" he answers, before turning on his heel and starting to run, before I can even get another piece of snark out.

  As Rush Order disappears around the corner, doubt creeps in. Am I really ready to face Shrike? Or am I just desperate to feel like I'm doing something - anything - other than hiding? But the alternative is worse: waiting for him to find me unprepared. Waiting for more innocent people to suffer while I hide.