Danielle was adamantly against the revenge plan, until she wasn't. Then we were planning, sorting, training, picking out fancy outfits and the weapons we'd take and working out how to get in and who to kill right up until the day finally arrives.

I've already thought a lot about dying. I've thought about where I might end up, whether that be floating through the clouds or burning alive in another dimension, or possibly as a fluttering hummingbird or another human being. I've thought about my body being shot apart, sliced open with a knife, tortured and beaten until I bleed out on the concrete floor. I've already thought about all of it. So staring at myself in a silky, red ball gown with my hair styled in a gorgeous ponytail and the weight of a knife and and gun strapped to my thigh for what might be the last time isn't as daunting as I'd thought.

I leave my room without much of a thought in my mind, until I see Chelsea stood outside of her room, soft tears slipping down her cheeks as she holds Posie impossibly close to her. Sympathy tugs at my heart strings as I step over, not entirely sure what to say. There's a woman stood nearby, the cadet who will be taking care of Posie. I simply clear my throat, capturing Chelsea's attention.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she tells me, her voice shaky. "I don't want to lose my baby."

I swallow, placing what I hope is a reassuring hand on her arm. "Posie's going to be fine." I almost flinch at how dull my voice sounds. "You'll see her again soon."

"But what if I don't? She'll grow up all alone." I don't know what to say. I don't want to give her false hope. She looks at me through glassy eyes. "Do you remember what you said? About how you'd take care of her if something goes wrong?"

I nod my head, reaching out a hand to smooth over Posie's soft, soft hair. "Of course," I say. "But there won't be any need for that. Nothing will go wrong. We've planned and trained so much. We know what we're doing."

"But it's all gone so quickly, don't you think? I've been training for ages but I suddenly feel like I don't know anything," she says. There's so much hopelessness in her voice, so strange coming from someone usually so headstrong and fierce.

She slowly passes Posie to me, who momentarily warms my freezing heart as I hold her close. She's fast asleep, tiny starfish hands covering her face. For just one moment, I have the strongest idea of how Chelsea is feeling. "I think that's just the fear," I say finally. "I'm sure once the adrenaline kicks in, you'll be ready to take it all on."

"I hope so," she says, wiping her tears. "I just hope, more than anything, that we all make it out of that house alive."

I nod my head, noticing the cadet stepping closer with a sad smile on her face. Chelsea and I both plant a long kiss to Posie's forehead, before the cadet takes her from my arms, and I hold onto Chelsea's hand as we make our way down to the garages.

I'm barely even shaking this time. My nerves are gone, replaced by anger fuelling my body. I think of how easily we all could've been killed those few weeks ago. I think of all the lives ruined by Simon and his thieves, including Danielle's and Blake's and every other innocent person they've murdered and tortured, sometimes for no reason. I think of everything, right up until Blake parks our car and I think of nothing.

He gets out of the driver seat and rounds the car to the passenger side. He opens the door, before gently handing me a masquerade mask of white silk and decorated with silver and crystals. I give him a look just as he ties his own over his face. His is a dark, emerald green to match his tie. 

"Of course it's a masquerade ball," I snort, fitting mine onto my face. It fits perfectly.

"Of course," Blake laughs, holding my hand and helping me from the vehicle. "They're filthy rich."

"But so are we," I smirk.

"We sure are."

Apparently, thieves all over the world hold the occasional party as a reason to splash the cash and sometimes scout out new cadets. I haven't been around long enough for our thieves to host one, but I can already tell it's a big deal. As soon as Blake and I step towards the house, I'm awestruck by how insane this is. The mansion is huge, possibly bigger than ours, with hundreds of guests in dresses and masks. They all somehow look more wealthy than those at the last party we went to, when everything went to shit, as if that's even possible. There are fountains covered in golden decorations and the gardens are lit by thousands of lights, illuminating the backdrop of the darkening sky.

The plan is for all of us to enter separately. The Drakan's know everyone's faces and it would be too obvious for us all to walk in like we own the place before getting ambushed. It was decided that Blake and I would go first, eventually followed by everyone else. Then we scout out the Drakan's, kill them first, and with any luck, those will be the only lives lost today.

I can't even bear to think of a different outcome.

Blake and I make it into the house, barely even spared a second glance by any of the guests, but before we can make it further into what looks like a grand, hotel lobby, Blake freezes and his arm stiffens. He recovers within seconds, discreetly angling his head over to a young guy with snow-white hair to match his white suit and white mask.

"That's Storm. He's a Drakan," Blake mutters.

"Already?" I ask, my voice so low I doubt he can hear me over the lively music and chatter from all over the house.

"He won't know your face, especially with the mask. Greet him and act like everything is fine and go to the ballroom. I'll find you."

He's gone before I can even argue with him, and without wanting to act all suspicious and draw attention to myself, I hold my head high and confidently walk over to Storm. He eyes me up and down and gives me a charming smile that makes my skin crawl.

He extends out a hand that I shake, glad my hands aren't clammy with the fear of being so close to someone who tried to have me killed. The urge to rip my dress and grab the gun is worryingly strong. "I'm Storm," he tells me. "We have matching masks."

I nod, giving him a forced friendly smile. "So we do. I'm Eve."

Eve Morales is my name for this evening. She's no one in particular, but as these parties are always open to anyone who knows about it, it doesn't matter. Shame, they really should have stepped up their security for tonight.

"Eve," he smirks. "Is there anything I can help you with? Or would you rather just get to the buffet?"

"Buffet sounds good to me," I say, hoping my mouth isn't twitching with the strain of this smile.

"Okay, then. Just know that the firework show is at eleven o'clock and the ball will end at two." He gives me another once over, his eyes lingering on my mask for more than a second. I need to leave.

"Got it," I say. I walk off and drop the smile.

The ballroom isn't too difficult to find. It's where all the life is, the music shaking up my insides and the noise of talk and laughter making me wince. I briefly wonder what to do, once again pushing down the urge to take out my gun now that all rational thoughts have left my body, until, as promised, Blake finds me. He firmly grabs my upper arm and pulls me to the edge of the ballroom.

"Did he suspect anything?" he says, keeping close to me. The heat and scent of him clouding around me distracts jumbles my thoughts for longer than it should.

"No," I tell him. "He seemed friendly."

He gives me that look, the one telling me not to be ridiculous as he misses the sarcasm in my voice. "You wouldn't be thinking that if you knew how many girls he's... you know."

I reach up, not too much as I'm a good few inches taller in my heels, and wrap my arms around his neck. I've become so confident around him, loving the sparks I feel whenever we touch. And if we're going to die, I might as well do what I've been wanting to do ever since I realised that Blake isn't a total asshole. "I was joking," I say. "Dance with me?"

He smirks, slowly shaking his head at me though his hands soon find my waist and his face leans closer to mine. "We're here to kill, not dance."

"So? If we're going to die we might as well have some fun."

I know he gives in as he doesn't protest when I start to drag him through the crowds over to where people are dancing. A beautiful and slow electronic song is playing, and I'm surprised with how easily we get into position and start dancing. We sway together at first, until the song builds and he's twirling me and we're smiling and I don't even care if we're doing it right because it feels perfect. We're going to die soon but it's completely perfect.

He brings me back closer to him after a couple of songs, seemingly so relaxed and content around me. My arms are around him, his are winding around my waist, and his face is tucked into the crook of my neck. He whispers that it's to hide his face, but his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck feels like no accident. I would melt into him right here if there weren't hundreds of people having the time of their lives around us, completely unbeknownst to what the sweet, young couple on the dance floor have planned.

Couple. I find myself liking the idea of that.

Cautiously glancing around the magnificent ballroom, I see a flash of the bright red of the tie that Jayden is wearing. I lock eyes with Chelsea beside him, who raises her eyebrows at me in acknowledgement before continuing to act like I don't exist, as planned.

Guilt eats at me. I should've comforted her more. I should've looked her directly in the eyes as I promised to take care of Posie. I should've taken that moment we had together to thank her for being the big sister I've always wanted and for letting me be so involved in Posie's life.

Blake's head raises from my neck and I miss the warmth of his breath. "What's wrong?" he asks me.

"Nothing," I breathe. I move my head closer to his as I bring him into an embrace. "Chelsea and Jayden are here."

He nods, his hand drawing a reassuring circle into my back. "We're getting closer to the showdown."

I sigh shakily, leaning back a little. "Is now the right time to tell you that I kind of really like you? Or should we wait for a more dramatic moment?"

I see his eyes darken under his mask and his mouth registers shock. I don't blame him. I'm shocked that I just said that, too.

Then he grimaces. "Don't do that, Aurora. Not yet."

"Don't do what?" I ask, ignoring the hurt of him basically rejecting me.

"Tell me you... like me," he says. "It'll just make one of us possibly being hurt even more unbearable."

My head lowers and I watch the red silk of my dress brush across the wooden floor. "Okay then."

But he takes my chin in his hand and presses the most gentle kiss to my lips, so soft I wonder if they even touched mine at all. The butterflies rise into my throat and every part of me flutters. "But you should know that I'd be very, very sad if you died today."

The butterflies explode into a blur of emotions. "I'd be very, very sad if you died, too."

I want to kiss him. I really want to kiss him. But kissing him would be like saying goodbye and I don't ever want to say goodbye to him. I hug him instead and cling to him.

About an hour later, everyone has arrived besides Danielle. We're staying far apart from one another, Blake and I keeping to ourselves and trying to act normal while the others do the same with their respective partners. Blake takes me to the buffet to try and eat at one point, but I already know there's no chance of keeping those oysters and quail eggs down. We try a few drinks instead.

At the far end of the ballroom, there's a balcony that faces the room, two sets of curved staircases leading up to it. I've been watching it all night, no doubt along with the rest of the thieves, and now as I turn to look at it, my blood rushes down into nothing.

They're stood on the balcony. Every single Drakan thief flanking either side of their leader, Simon. I've been taught all of their names, so as my eyes flicker between each one, I finally put a face to those names.

I recognise Victoria and Sara instantly. Then there's Amber, with her wild curls of dark hair. Marco from Italy with brunet hair longer than mine. Christian, African-American with plump lips and a radiant smile. Storm, white and cold. And Colwyn. Enoch's brother.

I was surprised to hear that Enoch's older brother had abandoned him to join the Drakan thieves. They look pretty much identical, flawless skin and bright blond hair, but while Enoch is lovely and kind and easy-going, Colwyn is dark, brooding, mysterious. Even now, as he gazes across the floor of guests, it's as if he knows that every single one of us is literally and metaphorically beneath him. They watch us all for a long while as the party continues, but each one of us Vasquez thieves are on high alert now. All it would take is all of us taking out our guns and allowing their bloodied bodies to tumble off that balcony and down those stairs. But we have to be smart about it.

"May we have your attention please," Simon says, his voice magnified across what feels like the universe as he speaks into a microphone. Before he can say anything else, the room erupts into applause and cheers, many of them not realising who and what they are cheering for. I loop my arm through Blake's and politely join in with the applause. Blake doesn't even bother.

"Thank you, thank you," Simon chuckles as everyone settles down. "Thank you all for the warm welcome."

"He won't be warm for much longer," Blake mutters. I nudge him in the side, fearful of anyone surrounding us hearing what he's saying.

"We are so delighted that you all could make it today," Simon continues. "Something about hosting these parties is very special to all of us, mostly as it's nice seeing some fresh faces after spending every single day with the same people."

They laugh. Blake and the rest of us stay silent.

"Now, obviously we have our firework show soon and I wouldn't want anyone missing out on that, but I just have a quick message to make." His quick pause makes me realise how erratic my pulse has become, counting down the milliseconds of how close we are to getting our revenge. "Any potential cadets out there, I wish to have a word with you so please feel free to approach any one of us during the night, and--"

He stops abruptly. His raised lips turn down. He looks across the ballroom and, soon, everyone else does too.

Danielle glides through the ballroom, the tail of her dress chasing after her, and everyone parts like the Red Sea as if the world is her runway and we're all her audience. Every voice in the room is speechless. Every breath in the room is held. She keeps walking until she's looking up at the balcony, but while she's below and they're above, everyone here knows who dominates the power.

"Simon Drakan," Danielle greets coldly.

Simon's microphone drops to his side. "Danielle Vasquez-Jones. What do I owe this..." his mouth twitches. "Pleasure?"

"Oh, sweet boy," Danielle chuckles, shaking her head as if she's showing her disappointment to a toddler. "I think you know exactly why I'm here."

She takes the red cloth from inside her dress, holds it up for the room to see, before it flutters to the ground.

I rip the bottom of my dress and take out my gun, pointing at the people surrounding me and yelling at them to drop to the ground. I've done this before, but the only difference is that now, without a doubt in my soul, I know I can kill any one of these people.

Everyone else is doing the same. Blake, Jayden, Chelsea, Colby, Zavier, Maeve and Enoch, all of them yelling and threatening and pushing until the room is on the floor. I notice people trying to find an escape, but Enoch has locked the doors. There's no one going out, and no men in red uniforms are coming to the rescue.

When everyone is on the floor, we all step forward to join Danielle. All nine of us stood in a line, facing the enemy with our weapons raised. I don't quiver. I don't hesitate. I stare down each one of them before my eyes ultimately land on Victoria's. She recognises my eyes just as must as I do her's.

"Surrender now!" Danielle threatens. "Promise you'll never attack us or kill again, because I am done with this juvenile war our grandparents caused. I don't want any more of my family dead, and I'm sure you don't either. Surrender now and no one else dies."

The Drakan's start to protest, but Simon outstretches his arm, effectively cutting them all off. The room is so, completely silent as he makes his gradual way across the balcony and down the stairs. It takes a whole fifty-two seconds until he's stood right before Danielle, both of them equal in height. The scars on Simon's face look even more gnarly up close.

"You want a truce?" Simon asks, eyeing her up and down. "My ancestors would be turning in their graves if I ever agreed to that."

"Surrender or we kill all of you," Danielle says. She's not backing down. Something tells me she'd never back down.

Simon spares a look at his thieves, who are still on the balcony, looking as though they're braced to run. Victoria's been staring down the barrel of my gun for a long time. She's scared. "Well, I guess we have no choice," Simon shrugs, way too calm for my liking. "I assume you have a knife on you?"

I glance at Blake but he's too busy watching the interaction. Why would a knife need to be involved?

I watch intently as Danielle draws a knife from the strap on her thigh and slices open her palm without hesitation. I want to puke at the sight of the blood snaking down her arm and dripping onto the floor, remembering every single of drop of blood I've seen before now.

Then she hands it to Simon to do the same. Instead, he expertly slices it through the air, slicing her arm with the blade, and she cries out in pain.

The ballroom is a blur of screams, gunshots and yells. I don't know what's happening. I don't know who's dying. But survival instincts hits me harder than they ever have before.

I spin around, seeing two large guys in red uniforms stood there. I shoot one in the chest before the other is too quick for me, managing to steal the gun from my grasp and throwing it across the room. I punch him in the temple and kick him in the stomach, giving me a few precious seconds to rip the knife from under my dress. The guy grabs me from behind, strong arms winding around my stomach.

I ram my knife as far into his stomach as I can go, twisting it, pulling it out. He yells so loudly in pain that my ears start to squeal. I stab him again. His arms fall limp and I jump from his hold.

Another man lunges towards me. I hold up my arms in an X before digging the knife into his shoulder blade. He doesn't falter as his hand reaches for my neck, but he drops too the floor when a bullet flies through his body. I look up to see Blake lowering his gun.

It feels as though I'm trapped in a nightmare. I watch as my thieves are beaten, restrained to the floor, guns pointed at their heads. I barely have time to comprehend as another man in red approaches me and hits me harshly in the face. Then the nose. Then my stomach.

I try to fight back. I wave my knife in his direction, cutting his leg, but he grabs my hand with so much force that my bones snap and break and the knife falls from my hold.

I'm just about hanging on to life when two more men grab my arms and hold me upright. I'm dragged to the centre of the ballroom and dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

I notice a beat too late that the fighting around me has stopped.

Gasping for breath, I lift my head to see everyone I love alive, but each one of them are being restrained by three or more men in red. Some are bleeding. Some have guns to their heads. But they're alive. And they're watching me, eyes full of anguish.

Blake's eyes meet mine. He looks utterly helpless. Then his face contorts into pain right before a blunt force slams into my ribcage and I let out an animalistic yell. I look up through the haze of blood and pain to see Simon step around me. He just kicked me. When I look back over to Blake, it looks like he's been kicked instead. He struggles against the four men who have hold of him. Simon kicks me again. My lungs are on fire.

"I actually have a special gift for this one," I hear him say over the muffled humming in my ears. I rest my head back onto the floor, trying to stop the blood gushing from my nose. But I'm being lifted again by two men, one man holding onto one arm so that I'm hanging limply between them. My head lolls forward against my will before it's forced upright to be greeted with whatever 'gift' this is.

The world breaks and shatters and crumbles into dust as two identical faces are brought into the room. Two identical, painfully familiar faces.

Sean and Tristan. My brothers.

Both with knives pressed against their necks.

Simon steps over to me, his body blocking them from view. He runs a hand over my blood-soaked hair, down my face, dangerously inching further down my chest until it stops just above where my dress starts. Then he leans too close and breathes in my ear, "choose one."

Over the constant ringing in my head, I'm not sure if I heard him correctly. But then my brain registers the two words and I frantically shake my head.

"That's fine," Simon says, stepping away. "We can always just... kill them both."

"No!" I cry. "Please, no."

"Well, sweetheart, clearly you don't care about them that much, do you?" he continues, waving the knife in his hand like it's nothing. "You abandoned them as soon as you could, but now you're too scared to kill one of them?"

"That wasn't my fault," I say. "They're my brothers and I love them. Please don't do this."

"Why not? It's not like you'll see them again anyway." He walks back over to me. "You're my property now. Now, pick one. Pick the brother that you wouldn't mind seeing with a throat slit open. Leave one twin without the other."

"Why are you doing this?" I sob. "Why do you have them?"

His expression turns mad. "You know exactly why, you little bitch--"

"Actually," Danielle speaks up. I see her being restrained by two men. "She doesn't. I haven't told her."

I look into the eyes of my brothers. I don't think I've seen them cry in years, but the tears now flow freely and I'm choking on the guilt. They should never have been brought into this shit. They're innocent. They're two, young men with so much life in the both of them. They're terrified.

"Oh," Simon chuckles, turning his attention from Danielle to me. "Your boss has done you dirty. I guess... maybe we should just kill them both."

The knives start to travel across their necks.

The bomb goes off at that very moment.