Lyda Rose, badass spy.

The one thing that people don’t usually get about power is that it’s not about what you have, but what you know. To have the most power in the room is to be the one who knows the most, who can use that to their advantage and throw the situation into their favor. In this room, and this situation, that particular person was Lyda Rose.

Her blood pumped through her veins at a faster pace than the others around her, whether from being at high attention or from the adrenaline that was still in her system from breaking into the party they were at now. It had taken two unconscious security guards for them to be able to appear without seeming suspicious and even then she felt eyes on her. They had been hired by only one person there and it was to stay that way, no exceptions.

She stood closer to the door by the wall, blending into her surroundings for the time being, but knowing that that had to change if anything was on the verge of happening. Having taken this particular job, she knew better than to question who hired them and even less, for what particular reason. Her teammates and she were spread out around the party, mingling with the other guests at the high-function occasion. Some looked like they were just enjoying the party, walking around the art gallery, while others, you could tell, were in on the other business of the party, the reason her team was called in.

The blade from the knife touched her thigh, sending a cold shiver up her side as she walked a bit behind the target. Although her black hair had been left down to settle to the middle of her back, she felt a cold feeling creep over the side of her neck as well, despite the warm air coming in from outside. The four other members of her team, Teddy, Katherine, Raf, and Asher, coordinated with her and kept their eyes on each other as they kept their distance from the only other person they were sent to keep their eye on. Lyda had just reached for the mike in her ear when she felt a presence behind her.

“The signal has been shut off; don’t even try to contact them.”

—By Cristina A., 17, Texas