by Ivy Asher
“If you need anything Bruiser, just use that handy new trick we discovered the other day, and we’ll be there as soon as possible.”
I look down at the runes on my ring finger at Bastien’s reminder. I immediately feel better knowing that if I need them, I can call on those runes and they will feel it.
“They told me they were bringing my stuff over; can you guys keep Laiken and Talon with you? I don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“Already done. We also kept the tablet and folder the Readers left for you. We figured it would be safer with us.”
“Thank you, Sabin—”
A heavy knock at the open doorway pulls me from my mental conversation.
“Guys, Enoch’s knocking, I’ll talk to you later… over.”
Bastien chuckles, and a round of irritated goodbyes and promises to see me soon sound off in my head. I run my finger over the runes behind my ear, turning them off and sit up. Enoch presses his palms on either side of the doorway, his sun-kissed skin and muscles flex as he pushes against the frame. His gray-blue eyes run over me, and he seems nervous.
“I want to introduce you to Becket. You haven’t met him yet,” Enoch nods his chin in the direction of the hallway, the sun from the window catching the white-blond highlights in his tow-colored hair.
He backs out of my doorway, and I follow him to the living room where Nash and Kallan are lounging. I trade awkward waves with them as I’m introduced to the only unfamiliar face in the group. Becket has a very boy next door appeal. Short ash brown hair, straight eyebrows over dark brown eyes, and high cheekbones with a smattering of freckles. He’s good-looking, but not in an overwhelming, my-brain-stopped-working-because-he-looked-at-me, kind of way.
“Beck is the fourth member of our coven,” Enoch explains.
I give him a confused look. “I thought Parker was in your coven?”
Enoch takes a seat on the couch next to Kallan and sweeps his hand out in an invitation for me to sit down, too. I stay standing.
“No, he’s a friend we go rock climbing with occasionally. That’s what we were coming back from when we ran into you that day on the road.”
The room falls silent, and it seems none of us know where to tread when it comes to talking about what happened that day. Just as the silence teeters on awkward, Nash breaks it up, his jovial tone overcompensating for the dark thoughts surrounding the lamia abduction.
“Consider yourself warned,” he teases. “After Parker woke up the next day, and was told what you did, a heavy dose of hero-worship kicked in,” Nash chuckles, and his eyes light up with mirth. It’s clear by the look on his face that he has a love for gossip that could rival any sweet tea drinking, rocking chair owning, old southern woman.
His dark hair is damp, and it makes me wonder when he had time to shower or swim before I got here. Nash is rocking some scruff on his face that wasn’t there the first time I met him. He looks tired, and for the first time, I wonder how they’ve been impacted by what happened. I’ve been so wrapped up in what happened with Talon and everything he revealed, that I haven’t bothered to step outside of my own shit to wonder what new scars the others who were taken might have.
“I didn’t really do anything,” I offer dismissively, brushing away Nash’s teasing. “I’m sure Parker will get over it when he realizes that.”
I look around the living room and just catch the shadow of a figure as it streaks past a window. Curious, I move toward the window to get a better look.
“Um… were we not at the same abduction, because I don’t think what you did could be classified as nothing,” Kallan tells me, the tone and look he’s giving me are incredulous.
I shrug my shoulders, not sure what else to say. I’m tempted to point out that none of them would’ve been there if it weren’t for me, but that’s a road full of potholes I don’t want to go down right now. I continue to look for whoever just walked past the window when the front door opens, and someone walks in. A familiar blond man smiles at me, as he makes his way into the living room and plops down in a chair. I look from him to Enoch.
“What is Pebble doing here?”
“My name is Elias Rock, and I’ve been assigned as your guard.”
My face immediately scrunches up, like I just smelled something nasty. The council assigned me a fucking babysitter? I stare at his cocksure smirk and shake my head, letting out a soul weary sigh. I absently pinch my bottom lip between my thumb and index finger. Everything about this situation suddenly feels really claustrophobic.
“I’m going for a walk.”
I move toward the door, but Nash steps into my path, and I stop. I give him an irritated glare.
“Is that a problem?”
He doesn’t move or answer, just shoots a quick look to the others. I follow his gaze and notice that each of them are on their feet like they’re ready and waiting to spring into action.
“Am I a fucking prisoner here?”
Enoch steps towards me, and I tense automatically.
“Not exactly, but wandering off on your own is probably not the wisest move given what happened last time.”
“And who gave you dominion over my moves and decisions? I sure as hell didn’t.”
Enoch takes another step towards me, his eyes simmering with frustration. “By the moon, Vinna, is self-preservation not one of your many abilities?”
My eyes bounce quickly around the room before locking back on Enoch’s exasperated gaze. “Guess not,” I answer straight-faced, and then shove Nash out of my way.
He lets out a surprised yelp as I sprint for the door. I fling it open and dash out into the thick warm air. Curses and shouting sound off behind me, but I don’t give a shit. I pump my arms and dig in with my legs, quickly falling into a fast run. I don’t have time to assess my surroundings and come up with a solid plan for evasion, because the heavy pounding of footfall is loud and ominous behind me. I’ll just have to wing it.
A shimmering green wall of magic shoots up fifteen feet in front of me, and there’s no way to avoid it unless I stop. I’m not giving in that easy though. They’re going to have to do a hell of a lot more than put up a shiny magic wall and think that’s going to be enough. Come on runes, don’t fail me now. I angle my body so it’ll hit the magic barrier shoulder first and I continue to charge like a raging bull.
A familiar tingling sweeps over me as I slam into the green-tinted magic. There’s enough resistance in the barrier to sting as my shoulder makes contact and it’s probably going to leave a bruise. But it only slows me a little before the barrier shatters all around me as I force my way through. I run for the stone wall that borders Enoch’s property. I call on the runes on my legs, coaxing extra power from them so I can leap high enough to clear the ten-foot wall. Suddenly with my next stride, the ground is no longer solid beneath my feet. The hole that just formed beneath my foot throws me off balance, and I trip, smashing into the ground hard.
Momentum tries to force me to skid forward through the grass, but something solid is holding on to my foot, and I’m jerked and stretched into a forced stop. It fucking hurts. I feel for whatever’s now surrounding my calf and ankle. I look down to find that my foot is surrounded by grass and dirt. What the hell? I look like I’ve somehow grown out of the soil, like a fucking flower ready to bloom.
I can’t remember which one of these assholes has elemental magic, but I know I have them to thank for this. Stupid prick, I could have broken my fucking ankle. I know Nash could technically heal it, but I’m sure it would hurt like hell before that could happen. I pull on my calf but it doesn’t budge, and I’m aware that the others are running towards me. The lead I had disappears like sand through my fingers.
Thinking back to everything I’ve read so far about elemental magic, I call on mine and push my palm towards the earth surrounding my foot. Nothing happens. I try again to separate the grass and soil from my entombed leg, but my inability to make anything happen is laughable. I let out a frustrated grow
l. How the hell can I do half the shit I do, but I can’t make the ground willingly release my foot when I want it to?
I give up on trying to force my fickle magic to cooperate and instead focus on muscling my foot out of the ground. I painstakingly pull and jimmy myself free and then flip the bird to the hole left behind in the grass.
I get up, and I get ready. I’ve got maybe ten seconds until irritated, bossy male casters surround me, and I fully intend to put up at least a half-assed fight. Contrary to how this looks, I’m not actually trying to escape. The fucked up truth is, I don’t have anywhere to go. But when each of them stood up to stop me, so sure that I would have no choice but to obey, I couldn’t fight the overwhelming need to give them, and their attempt at control, a little fuck you.
They close in around me, hands raised with magic and ready to keep me at bay. My lack of magical ability is clearly going to put me at a massive disadvantage. The fact that the earth just ate my foot, and I couldn’t do shit about it, is a brutal reminder of just how fucked I am fighting magic with magic.
My go-to selection of blades aren’t an option, since I’m not trying to kill or maim anyone, and I quickly run through what else in my arsenal might piss them off and give me a leg up without making them bleed...too much.
5
My new prison wardens form a semicircle around me, assessing me and my defensive stance as they come to a stop. Staff in hand, I wait to see who’s going to make the first move. I’m met by narrowed eyes and various looks of irritation. In an effort to sprinkle a little more intimidation around, I expertly twirl and maneuver my staff around me in a way that would make Donatello jealous.
Pebble moves towards me but stops suddenly when Enoch and Kallan start yelling at him.
“If you go near her when she has a weapon in her hand, you’ll be out of this fight in seconds,” Enoch warns him.
Pebble looks back at me, and I can see the doubtful debate going on in his head.
“Trust us, bro, that is a fight you can’t win. Use your magic, that’s your best bet.”
I call on a throwing knife and chuck it at Kallan. I make sure to only hit him with the handle of the small blade, but I throw it with enough force that it will leave a nasty bruise. The hilt connects with his shoulder creating a hollow thunk sound, and the weapon tumbles toward the ground. I let go of the magic holding the small blade solid, and it disappears before it touches the ground.
“What the fuck?” Kallan shouts.
He drops whatever magic he had ready in his hands and massages his shoulder with a wince.
“You’re just going to sell me out to Pebble like that?” I accuse him, trying not to grin. “I would have only knocked him around a little. Just enough to wipe that cocky grin off his face.”
On cue, everyone looks over at the paladin, where surprise, surprise, he’s smiling that overconfident, smartass smile.
“You could’ve tried, sweetheart,” Pebble challenges, the arrogance in his tone a perfect match for the arrogance in his grin.
I roll my eyes at him. “Please, you would have been on your back in five seconds flat.”
“If you ask nicely, I’d be happy to get on my back in three seconds flat. I like a woman who wants to be on top.”
I tilt my head appraisingly. “Yeah, I could see that. You seem kind of lazy.”
Kallan throws an indignant arm in Enoch’s direction. “He warned him too, and I don’t see you throwing knives at him!”
“Enoch just told him I was going to kick his ass. He wasn’t laying out my weaknesses for a perfect stranger. I guess we’re not the battle-tested bros I thought we were,” I finish, trying not to smirk.
“At least she missed, what are you whining about?” Pebble comments smugly.
Another throwing knife leaves my hand headed for Pebble before anyone can even turn my way to track the movement. The blade sinks into the meaty part of Pebble’s thigh. He cries out and looks down at the knife and then up to me. Anger slowly replaces the shocked look on his face.
“I don’t miss. I’d be happy to continue to prove that for however long you continue to prove that you’re a cocky prick.”
I turn my focus back on a now laughing Kallan. Nash chuckles and slowly makes his way over to Pebble to heal his new leg wound. Enoch snorts and runs a hand over his face, the tension leaving him now that he realizes I’m not actually making a break for it.
“I thought my dad was going to kill me,” he mumbles, mussing up his hair in obvious exasperation.
“Don’t worry, there’s still plenty of time for that,” I offer sweetly, as my staff disappears and I brush some stray blades of grass off my shirt and pants. I head back towards my new fancy prison and ignore the soreness in my body from the fall.
“Vinna, it’s obvious you’re not going to make this easy on us,” he tells me, and the glint in his eyes gives me the distinct impression that he just might like that. “But we’re in charge of your safety. You can’t just run off.” His tone is imploring, but I sense a deeper question I can’t quite identify nestled within it.
“Enoch, I’m in charge of my safety. And let’s keep it real, thanks to this fucked up world of magic, I don’t have anywhere to run. But that doesn’t make you, your coven, or dear old dad and his elder buddies, my masters or commanders. Yeah, we went through some shit together, but the truth is you don’t know me, and I don’t know any of you. If you’re looking for promises to be good, or blind faith and compliance, look somewhere else. None of you have earned my respect or obedience. So, I’ll do whatever I fucking want.”
We reach the too big front door, and he beats me to the bronze knob and pulls the door open for me. I know I shouldn’t read into the gesture as anything but a polite show of manners, but I can’t help feeling annoyed by it. Any other day I wouldn’t think twice about walking through a door someone opened for me. These fucking casters have me reading into everything like it has some hidden meaning or agenda.
I leave Enoch to his shady door holding and make a beeline for the room they’ve assigned me. I shut myself in and fume. If the floor wasn’t polished concrete, I would be wearing a groove into it from all the pacing I’m doing. I need to work out and expel this angry, restless energy, but fuck if I’m going to ask them where the gym is around here. Of course, it’s the one thing left off the tour I was given earlier.
My thoughts drift to my guys, and I wonder what’s happening at the mega-mansion. What did they go home to after the hearing with the elders? If I hadn’t witnessed the fight over Valen’s statement, I would have assumed Lachlan and the others would be relieved to get rid of me. But then why wouldn’t Lachlan just give up his claim when he was asked to? What was that about? Why keep me, when you hate me? It’s the Beth puzzle all over again. Although now I know that Beth never wanted me, it was just Talon’s compulsion that forced it on her.
The ever present ache in my soul fights to the forefront of my mind at the thought of Talon. Just when I think I’m managing to tread water in my pool of sorrow, something else happens, and I get pulled back under to drown in the desolation. I’ve replayed Talon’s dying words over and over again. I’ve scoured every detail and exhaustively examined each revelation. Of all the crazy shit I’ve experienced over the past month, I never saw what Talon confessed coming.
It’s rocked me to my core, and I’m not sure how to feel about any of it. On the one hand, I’m indebted and beyond grateful that Talon was looking out for me. I wouldn't be who I am today without him, or his influence and guidance. But on the other hand, I’m fucking pissed. I can’t help feeling manipulated and angry that he kept me in the dark.
I can accept that he couldn’t tell me when I was under Beth’s roof, but why the fuck didn’t he say something when he found me on the streets? From the first day that Talon introduced himself, he should have fucking told me who and what I was. So much confusion and loneliness could have been avoided if he had just done the right thing. Not to mention all the information he had ab
out my parents, information that’s now lost forever.
Voices out in the rest of the house are gradually getting louder, and it yanks my attention away from my troubled thoughts. Who the hell is yelling? I leave the room and follow the angry, raised voices to their source.
“You shouldn’t be here. You need to respect what the council decided and back off.”
“Leave everything there, because you’re sure as hell not coming inside the house.”
I round the corner ready to lay into Enoch and Nash for yelling at the guys. But I freeze when it’s not any of my chosen at the door but Aydin. He stands amidst stacks of boxes and as soon as he sees me, it’s obvious he’s no longer listening to shit Enoch or Nash are saying to him. I fold my arms over my chest, and we stare at each other.
“I brought your things.”
“I see that. The question is, why are you still here?”
Aydin flinches like my words physically hurt him, and I try really hard to stomp out whatever’s inside of me that feels bad for that. I knew Lachlan hated me and that Silva didn’t trust me. Keegan was more wrapped up in supporting Lachlan at all costs than forming his own opinions about me, and Evrin was nice but mostly indifferent to my presence.
Aydin was the one who made it easier to let all of their shit slide off my back. He was the one that gave me hope. The one who made me think that maybe someday the others would come around. He was my friend, or at least I thought he could be. But as I sit here staring at the ginger giant, all I can think is…liar.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” Aydin tells me.
“Feel free to stand out there for the rest of your life then.”
I turn to walk away and try to get ahold of the unstable emotions splashing through me at his presence.
“Vinna, I’m sorry!”