"Do you know her?"  

               Bastian's question. Raw with fear.

               "Yes," I say proudly, as Veah pulls out two swords. "That's my girlfriend."

                There is chaos―pandemonium. I see people running as bullets begin to fly, and it is a free-for-all war with only one way out.

                 In order to get out of here, they're going to have to go through Veah.

                 There must be a hundred people here.

                 But Veah isn't alone. Ren and Maiko push through the curtains, exchanging a glance with each other.

                  Mai gives the crowd a bloodthirsty smile.

                  Someone―I recognize him as the man who ordered Pierce to take off her shirt―pounces on her. Maybe he figures she is a weakness, an easy target. For a moment, her name forms on my lips in an attempt to warn her. 

                   But before my voice can even escape me, she throws something at him.

                   It is sharp and silver and shaped like a star.

                    Tommy probably would have died on the spot. He loves badass weapons more than he loves pistachio ice cream. And I know from watching movies that what Maiko just threw is called a shuriken. A throwing star.

                     It rips across the man's throat. With a splutter of red, he goes down.

                     From across the neon lights of the club, my eyes meet Veah's.

                     I am still locked in Bastian's grip. His forearm tightens over my throat, as though he realizes he has found leverage.

                     Despite the music and the new sound of screaming, Veah tilts her head. A question. Did you get it?

                      Without looking away, I nod. I got it. 

                      It isn't the written formula, but there was a reason I tried to help Pierce. I saw the blue trail of crystal powder on the edge of the table, and I slipped a few beads into my pocket. 

                     We have something to work with.

                     I might only be an engineering and math major, but I'm not a child genius for nothing. Chemistry is one of my strongest skills. All I need now is a lab.

                     And to get away from Bastian.

                    "You know," I say, as Veah begins to cross the dance floor, slicing her way towards me, "you could have a little more manners. My girlfriend is more of a gentleman than you are."

                   "I have a hard time believing that," Bastian hisses against my neck. "The most deadly assassin in Tokyo city is a gentleman, is she?"

                  "That's right," I say, ramming my head back into his nose.

                  He lets out a shout of pain. His grip tightens, until I can hardly breathe.

                  "Better luck next time," he whispers.

                   Right before I ram my knee between his legs, I ask him, "How do you know all of that, anyway? About Magic and the four elements?"

                    It is only meant to be a distraction. My knee is already moving, colliding―

                    Just before I drive my kick home, right where the sun doesn't shine, he says, "Because I made Magic."

                   To anyone else, that might sound ridiculous.

                    I made Magic. 

                    Except from what I saw tonight, I finally understand what that means.

                    I saw what it did to Pierce with my own eyes.

                    And I need to know more.

                   But it is already too late to stop myself; I hit him, hard, between his legs. He doubles over, gasping, but before I can ask him what he means, if he is truly behind all of this, Veah is there.

                    "My knight in shining armour," I say.

                    "Let's go, Princess." Veah unsheathes a small dagger, and I realize she is going to kill Bastian here and now. "We've got a few minutes before Okami hears about this."

                 "Wait," I say, but then I pause.

                  I only have a moment to realize the floor is wet.

                 "Gasoline," Veah says, grinning. "As soon as we get out of here, all I have to do is light a match."

                  She really is going to burn down a church for me.

                   I think I might be in love.

                  Veah aims her knife at Bastian, but I hold her arm back. Stopping her. "We can't," I say breathlessly. "He just told me he's the one behind all this. He said he made Magic―he is the creator of the Wyvern."

                  From on his knees, Bastian groans. Trying to crawl away.

                  Veah's eyes harden as she looks down at him. "Then he deserves to die," she says, and she brings down the blade―

                  "No!" The music throbs in my chest. Right now, the dark-eyed, handsome boy looks so pitiful on his hands and knees. But that's not why I need to save him. "He's the maker of the Wyvern. He's the reason for all this. We should take him hostage. We should use him as leverage against Okami."

                   Veah shakes her head slowly. "When this place burns down, Okami isn't going to know who did it. We won't get in trouble for it―at least for a few days. But that's enough time. If we have Bastian, she'll know who threatened her. It's too dangerous."

                  "Please," I say. "She doesn't have to know yet. We can keep him a secret."

                  I can't explain why, because Bastian has given me absolutely no reason to even like him, or trust him, or even believe that he's not lying, but―

                 But I see myself in him. The loneliness that comes with being too smart. 

                 The prodigal child―abandoned. 

                 So I set my jaw, and I see the moment Veah finally relents. 

                 And I will never forgive myself.

                 Because in that moment of weakness, as she is looking at me, she is too distracted to notice the bullet before it hits her.

                 She doesn't even make a sound as she buckles.

                 Something like wrath explodes inside of me.

                 There is a sword in Veah's hand, but as she sinks to one knee, her grip loosens. Before I can think twice, I am clutching the sword with both hands.

                 Facing the man who just shot Veah's leg.

                 "Guns," I hiss, "are illegal in Japan."

                 Never mind the fact that there is a gun in my back pocket.

                 I swing the sword.

                 It doesn't kill him, but it does ruin my appetite. Once he falls, and I am sure he'll no longer be a threat, I let the sword clatter to the ground.

                 Veah is still on one knee, but she rises unsteadily. Her face is pale, and her leg is shaking uncontrollably. "I'm fine," she tells me.

                  "You're fine?" I repeat incredulously.

                Bastian is still trying to crawl away. I borrow Veah's katana and hit his head.

                When did I become so violent?

                 I kind of like it.

                 "Yes. I'm fine," Veah says, touching the wound on her thigh. Her fingers come away bloody. "We need to go. Come on."

                  Before I say she is absolutely not going anywhere without medical help, I am interrupted by the sound of arguing, louder than the music. 

                  "I told you I would kill more people than you would, you piece of shit," I hear Mai say. "I want my money. We had a bet."

                 "What if I paid you in another way?"

                 "Tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means, or I'm going to cut your dick off right now."

                  "I'm calling your bluff. You had too much of a good time to cut off Ren Junior."

                   "Ren Junior? More like Princess Sophia."

                  "Princess Sophia?"  

                   "Hello?" I holler, over the vibrating song. "We have a situation here!"

                   "Does it call for Viagra?" Mai shouts. "Because then I'm sure Ren will finally be useful for something!"

                   I glance down at Veah's injured leg and Bastian's unconscious body.

                   "No Viagra!" I yell. "But you need to hurry!"

                 The bodies on the dance floor are either unconscious or dead. As I step over them, I try not to think too hard about it. These are the same people who chorused for Pierce's death. Who were willing to drug a girl with something fatal, just to see the outcome of it all.

                 These are the people who cheered when an innocent girl slit her throat.

                 No, I am not going to feel sorry for them.

                 "I want to light the match," Maiko says suddenly. "Please. It has to be me."

                 "Why?" I ask curiously.

                  Ren shakes his head wordlessly at me. Don't question it. Bastian's limp figure is resting over his shoulders, and although Ren is tall and willowy, he has to be strong in order to lift that deadweight. 

                  It's a long story, Maiko told me once.

                  Quietly, I hand her the matchbox. 

                  "Those bastards," she mutters in a low, angry voice. "Bastards." 

                   The floor beneath us is slick with gasoline. They must have poured it throughout the halls, the club.

                  Now, in the stairwell, I see where the liquid slicks the floor. We are standing safely behind it.

                   In the dark, Maiko lights a match.

                   And I send up a silent prayer to the heavens. Sorry, God. 

                   Golden-orange flame.

                   It licks against the shadow, kissing the dark. Holy fire, reflected in Veah's eyes. She is looking at me like she has never looked at me before, and then she reaches out―tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

                    Mai tosses the spark onto the gasoline.

                    Fire races through the stone corridor, illuminating the world as brightly as the sun.

                     Veah's eyes are wide with something that might be awe. "Your hair," she breathes. "It's gold."

                    Is she aware that she was just shot?

                     "We have to get you to a hospital," I say, shaking my head. "You might be bleeding out―"

                     Already, stifling heat rises in the air. Smoke begins to churn. Mai and Ren nod to us, already further down the corridor.

                    "You're beautiful," she whispers, her hand gentle on the side of my face.

                    I smile, unable to help myself. And those three words almost escape me. "I―"

                    "You two are idiots!" Ren shouts. "Get your asses over here before you burn alive!"

                    I hear Maiko mutter, "Lesbians."

                    "You owe me fifty," Ren argues. "I said this would happen. It's just something about arson―"

                    Veah grabs my hand, and we are sprinting like there is a wall of fire behind us, like we are about to get ourselves burned alive. And I think I might not mind this―not anymore. Because as long as I'm with her, I think I'd be happy to spend the rest of my life running. Even if it's from the rest of the world. Even if it's for my life.

                   Ren and Maiko disappear up a stairwell, from where I first arrived. The temple's side entrance.

                  But as I round the bend, ready to swerve, Veah urges me forward.

                Trust me. Always. 

                 "You do know that was the exit, right?" I say. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted the girl who was just shot in the leg. Maybe she has a concussion, too.

                 "I have to show you something."

                 "While this place is burning?"

                  We are still running. Veah flicks open a matchbox, dragging me up another set of stairs. But this time, they are not secret or hidden, like the side entrance. They are glossy and marble and gold-veined.

                 This must be the temple.

                  The fire is far behind us now; I can only taste the acrid scent of smoke. Five minutes―we have five minutes.

                   The temple is beautiful. There is bright golden light and wooden panels, with glowing Japanese calligraphy etched into the ceilings. It feels serene. Peaceful. There is the sound of trickling water, and it soothes me.

                  Softly, Veah says, "I hate it here."

                  I only give her a questioning look, eyebrows raised.

                  "This isn't a real temple," Veah tells me. "It's a front for the club below. Okami had this designed a while ago. It's where I begged her to save my parents."

                On the temple's altar, I finally notice a pale golden bowl.

                My steps are hesitant as I walk towards it.

                Behind me, I hear Veah say, "This is where I pledged my loyalty to her. Where I spilled my blood in her honour."

                 I have arrived at the bowl. My stomach clenches―dread, as I peer over it.

                 Into it. 

                Blood.

                Bitterly, Veah says, "Do you know what she told me, once I was sworn to her? She said, This love makes you weak. Do you see how easy it was to use your parents against you? And that was when I realized it wasn't the Cais who had used my parents as hostages."

                Inside the bowl, there is fresh red blood.

                I turn around, my heartbeat lurching. "What? What does that mean?"

               "Okami made me think it was the Cais who took my parents hostage." Veah laughs―shortly, sharply. "That it was revenge, for running away from the Cai gang. But it wasn't the Cais. It had been her all along, so when I went to her . . . when I pleaded for her help . . . I became loyal to the very person who had been behind all of it."

                 "The trick," I realize. "When those people arrived on your parents' doorstep and said you had been hurt. That was Okami, not Imai?"

                 "My own mistake," Veah says, her eyes flickering. "My fatal flaw."

                 As she closes the distance between us, I can't help but notice there are droplets of her blood on the glossy wooden floor.

                 "We have to get you to a hospital," I say desperately.

                 "Today, when you called my name . . ." Veah's hands are on either side of my face, and I reach out to her. Pulling her closer to me by the collar of her jacket. "I thought I had lost you, Kaya. I thought you were dead."

                 "Heaven and hell," I whisper. Thinking of when she had been cast in that glowing turquoise light. Water rippling between us. She had said, I would move heaven and hell to get you back. 

                  I smell smoke.

                  The fire is almost here.

                   Veah draws back slightly. From between her fingers, a match twirls. "I told you, earlier, that if anyone down there hurt you, I would burn this place to the ground. So tell me, Kaya. Do I light this match?"

                   I think of everything she has endured. 

                   Her blood was once spilled in that golden bowl. 

                   In this very temple, I can imagine her on her knees. 

                   Pleading with Okami to save her parents' lives―when, all along, Okami had been the one who had taken them. 

                  I can imagine her anguish. Her pain becomes my pain, and I have never felt anything like this before.

               But I am also thinking of Veah's injury, of the fact that we might not have enough to get her to safety―to get her help―

                 "You need medical help," I say. "Ren will be able to do something once we're―"

                 "The fire won't touch this place," Veah says. "Sacred ground. Okami made this temple almost indestructible. The only place it can be brought down is from the inside. From right here."

                   The heart of the church.

                   Ironic, isn't it?             

                  So tell me, Kaya. 

                  Do I light this match?

                   After everything Okami has taken from her―from us―I realize there is only one answer.

                   "Light it up," I tell her.

                  Burn down the church.

                   Within seconds, the fire sparks against the wood.

                   And the flame is devouring. Destructive.

                   At that moment, Veah's phone begins to ring. She hands it to me as the fire grows around us.

                   "Hello?" 

                   Cassie is crying.

                   "Are you okay?" I demand. "What's wrong? What happened?"

                    Veah motions for me to follow her through the back. Smoke begins to cloud the air. The warmth becomes almost unbearable.

                    "I broke up with him," Cassie sobs.

                    "What? Who?"

                   "Tommy,"  she wails. "I broke up with Tommy. It's just not going to work, you know? Once we go back home, I still have to finish school in Florida. Tommy lives in New Orleans. How is that even going to work? It was the right thing to do. But it hurts so, so much. I don't think I'll ever be able to love again."

                    "Tommy?" is all I can manage.

                    "I just wish I didn't have to leave, but my education is way more important than a boy. I can't be worrying about a boyfriend while I'm in med school, you know? I want to be a doctor. I want to get my PhD. Do you really think he's going to stick around for that? It's just better this way. I know it was the right thing to do. I can't be distracted. But I really think I'll miss him." She chokes back a sob. "He was really hurt. You should have seen him."

                     "Tommy?"  I repeat, while Veah leads me into the fresh outside air. Behind us, the temple begins to collapse.

                     "And the only ice cream they have here is pistachio ice cream, which is really fucking disgusting, but everybody is obsessed with it. I don't even know what to do with it except eat a whole tub. I think I might watch Legally Blonde. Or Ten Things I Hate About You." Cassie sobs harder. "Or maybe I should watch White Chicks. But I haven't seen Friends in forever. Actually, fuck that. Ross is a sexist asshole. How am I supposed to just get over this? I think I'm going to run out of tears. That's it. I'm watching The Notebook. Is it possible to die of crying too much? Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know." 

                     I am still choking on, "Tommy? Really?"

                     Veah gets into the driver's seat of the getaway car. Maiko and Ren are already in the back. As she slams her foot down on the pedal, I see the church burning in the rearview mirror.

                    "So how about you?" Cassie sniffles. "Is there anything exciting going on? You're still alive and well?"

                    "Definitely alive," I say. To Veah, I hiss, "Didn't I just say you have a bullet wound in your leg?"

                    She accelerates the gas pedal. There is something untamed, something thrilling about the way she grins slightly at me.

                   Cassie says, "Have you faked your death yet? Oh! Did you make your new identity? What's your new name?"

                    "Anita Hanjaab," I grit out.

                    "What? I thought you were a lesbian."

                    "You,"  I growl at Veah. "Get out of the car. You were shot. I'm driving." Into the phone, I say to Cassie, "No, that's my name. Anita Hanjaab."

                     She is laughing. "What are you, a sixteen year old boy in my health class? Jenna Talia? Mike Coxlong? Dixie Normus?" 

                      From the corner of my eye, Veah chuckles.

                      In the backseat, I catch sight of Ren and Maiko kissing, rolling over on the leather. 

                      "That's it," I bite out. Veah is still smirking―until I reach over my seatbelt. And slap her. "Your leg is injured. You shouldn't be driving. Do you understand me when I say you need medical help? Stop the car."

                      Once the car is parked on the side of the road and there are horns blaring behind us, drivers shouting in furious Japanese as they pass by with rolled-down windows, I narrow my eyes.

                    "You," I say to Veah. "Your leg was just shot. The least you could do is pretend to even feel it. I refuse to let you bleed out." 

                    Ren hoots, "Veah, you just got scolded!"

                   Until I focus on him.

                    "You," I say. "Are you a doctor or not? You're not going to let her die, or I'm going to kill you myself."

                    Maiko laughs.

                    I narrow my eyes at her. "And you. You are going to just confess to him that you like him and you want to marry him and you want to have babies with him."

                    Ren's eyes widen on Maiko. "I knew it! You were bluffing when you said you would cut off my dick."

                    Maiko snarls at him. "I don't mind adopting."

                  "And both of you are going to stop arguing!" I snap. "We just broke into Okami's temple and burned down her damn church. I have a sample of the most wanted drug in Japan, and―where is our hostage?"

                    "I'm right here," comes a groan from the trunk.

                    "He's awake?"  I shout.

                    "On it," Ren says, and I hear a thud as he slams a rifle into Bastian's skull. 

                    "Good," I say, satisfied. "Now, where was I?"

                    "Wow, Kaya," says Cassie through the phone. "I didn't know you could be such a badass."

                      "Try bossy," Ren says.

                       "And you," I tell Cassie, "you are going to cry your eyeballs out over your boyfriend―who we will discuss later―and you're going to grieve, and mourn, and accept your heartbreak. Give yourself some time. Watch Legally Blonde. Definitely watch The Notebook. I love you, and you're going to be okay, alright?"

                       I swear I hear Cassie's smile through her voice. "Alright," she mumbles. "Love you, too."

                       Then I hang up and frown. "I'm missing something. What am I missing?"

                       Maiko bites her lip. "The European trade deal banquet tonight?"

                       "The European . . ." I choke. "The what now? That's tonight?"

                        "Ren and I found out an hour ago."

                        "You didn't think that was an important thing to mention?"

                         "Well . . . I kind of got distracted."

                       I narrow my eyes at her. And Ren. "Are you telling me that I have six hours to figure out the formula of this drug so we can use it as blackmail at a banquet later tonight?" 

                       Maiko sighs. "The real problem is, what are we going to wear?"

                       "The real problem is the fact that we have six hours to pull off Veah's entire crazy plan!"

                      "A backless sapphire dress, or the elegant white pantsuit?"

                      "The white suit," I say automatically. "Suits are hot."

                     Veah raises an eyebrow at me. I ignore her.

                     "If you think suits are hot, just wait until you see―" Maiko cuts herself off with a devilish grin and a glance at Veah. "Just wait until tonight."

                  "Oh, God," I say. "We are so going to get ourselves killed."

                   Veah winks at me.

                    My conscience says, But it'll definitely be worth it for a pretty girl. 

                    Famous last words.

>>>

No, really. Name one thing hotter than a girl in a suit.

From the moon and back,
Sarai