Laughter bounced off the walls around her, and she just continued her fake pout. Elijah was falling out of his chair. Vincent was chuckling madly behind his newspaper. Zander howled, leaning into Jasper’s shoulder. Only Quinn wasn’t laughing, he just stared at her.
“It’s a joke, Quinn,” she offered to him and he nodded.
“I know. I just didn’t find it funny,” Quinn mumbled, giving her a small smile.
At that, everyone lost their minds again. Except her. She just narrowed her eyes on Quinn and his small chuckle.
“You need cold water for that?” Elijah asked her, finally righting himself. “Zander, think you can help her with that burn?”
“Shit, I don’t know. Third degrees are pretty hard to fix.” Zander laughed, unable to control himself. Sawyer wasn’t sure how much worse the jokes could get at that point.
She sighed and took a bite of her last piece of bacon.
She signed up for this. Yesterday.
If this was morning one, she wasn’t sure if the next five years would be the best of her life or a new hell created just for her. She had her magic back… she could run.
“When do we start?” Sawyer asked Vincent once everyone calmed down. She couldn’t hide the small smirk forming on her face.
“After lunch,” Vincent sighed, still smiling. “When I’m not suffering from a splitting headache. I’m sure you can find something to do for the rest of the morning.”
“I think the right question would be… is there anything I can’t do?” Sawyer kept an eye on him as he considered that question.
“I would recommend not going any further than our town,” Vincent told her after a moment. “I’m not incredibly interested in needing to have someone with you all the time. Which reminds me…”
She watched him get up and leave. She frowned to Elijah, who shrugged.
“I have no idea,” he mumbled as they all waited for Vincent to come back.
It took a moment, but Sawyer saw him coming back and toss something. She grabbed it with a deft movement before it slammed into her face. She looked down at the object that jingled.
And she nearly gave a girlish squeal. She held back because it was bad for her image.
“My keys!” Sawyer laughed. “I get to drive my babies again?” They had been locked in the garage for weeks. She purposefully ignored them, since even thinking about them had made her desperate for a ride.
“Stay close by. Let us know when you’re leaving. Obviously, if you run, this all goes to hell,” Vincent reminded her. “But yes, you can go into town whenever you really want. Keep that phone on you at all times.”
“Speaking of going into town,” Jasper piped up. “Can we go get the Range Rover we left out there?”
“I’m not driving you.” Sawyer snorted. No, she wanted to take her car out by herself.
“I’ll take you,” Elijah groaned in reply. “Let’s go. We’ll give Sawyer the alone time she properly needs with her… babies.” With that, he threw a wink at her and she chuckled, spinning the keys on her right index finger. And noticed something else missing.
“Where’s my ring?” She hadn’t removed it since the night she met them. She figured they took it off her in the hospital and thought they would give it back to her. They hadn’t yet.
“In my workshop.” Elijah yawned, standing up from the table. “When I get back from hauling these two around, I’ll get it back to you.”
“Thanks,” Sawyer called to him as he left. In seconds, she was left with Quinn and Vincent.
That seemed like the right time for her to get out of the dining room.
She changed into a sturdy pair of black leather pants, a black tank, and a leather jacket. It was the first time since the hospital that she decided to wear anything other than sweatpants. It was the first time in ages that she wore a pair of her leather pants. When she thought about it, the last time had been the night…
Well. Sawyer huffed and looked down at what she was wearing. They were the same pair she’d been wearing when she’d met Elijah at the bar. Took him home. And gotten arrested. Caught. Whatever she could call it.
“Any reason for that outfit?” Vincent asked in her doorway, frowning.
“I’m going out on my bike,” Sawyer told him, not looking over to acknowledge him further. She grabbed a small bag she kept that looked like a tiny backpack. She dropped her wallet in it and some cash. Then she took a few hundred from that and put it aside. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Vincent replied, blandly. “Be back by our meeting time after lunch. And you ran from the dining room before anyone could give you this.” He held out a smartphone, and Sawyer took it slowly. “Yes, we can track it. Yes, you need to keep it on you at all times. No, you aren’t responsible for the bill. It’s a work phone. We all have one.”
“Even Quinn?” She needed to throw a question in there somehow.
“I have to get him a new one every few months.” Vincent sighed. “Have a nice ride…” He turned to leave and looked back at her after a couple of steps. “You look like a thief in that outfit.”
“I know.” Sawyer chuckled with a smile. “I figured this can be my work outfit, though.”
“No,” Vincent bit out and then left.
Sawyer raised an eyebrow and snorted. She remembered the night before, and her cheeks got a little warm. Well, drunk Vincent found her attractive, which was probably his problem. She also found him attractive, which was her problem.
What an awful problem. Truthfully.
She used to fuck his brother. Willingly. Coerced. Fearing for her life. It didn’t matter. The fact was, she slept with Axel.
She used to kill for his brother. Unwillingly. Coerced. Fearing for her life. None of that mattered. The fact was, she killed for him.
And with that thought, Sawyer grabbed her bag and hustled out the house. She was going to give Vincent the money for breaking open her lockbox at the bank, but she could do that later. Much later.
She didn’t want to spend the entire day wrapped up in thoughts about what she used to be. This was supposed to be the first day of a new world order, a new life where she could do some good and be free of the weight of those secrets.
While the secrets were out, she still felt the weight, and nothing was going to free her mind like a ride on her BMW would. She could take her Audi out while it was raining, but it was a clear summer morning in Georgia. The perfect time for a ride on the motorcycle.
She knew by the missing truck that Elijah and the guys were already gone. She pushed her helmet on, positioning the visor over her face. She swung a leg over her bike and tore out through the garage door he’d left open.
For ten seconds, she felt like the wind. That initial rush of starting off onto an open road where no one and nothing was in her way. Once that wore off, she kicked up the speed and truly flew.
Sawyer didn’t worry about accidents. If she was stupid enough to get in one, she knew to immediately sublimate and slow herself down. The bike would be ruined but she would come out of it unharmed.
Half way to town, though, the sirens sounded behind her and she growled to herself.
First day back on her motorcycle, get pulled over.
Fantastic.
She slowed down and moved to the shoulder. She cut the bike off while the police car pulled up behind her. She slowly removed her helmet and waited patiently for the fat sheriff to get out of his car. When he approached her, she smiled at him.
“Good morning, sir. Fine day out,” she said, letting her Southern accent slip out on purpose.
“It is,” the sheriff grunted. He had a rough smoker’s voice, and she bet he did two packs a day. He cleared his throat and looked her over. “You know why I pulled you over?”
“I was speeding, sir.” Sawyer didn’t feel any magic coming off him and knew he wasn’t a Magi. Even then, she probably didn’t even need to do that. He was in non-Magi law enforcement and therefore couldn’t be a Magi. It just wasn’t al
lowed. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Driver’s License and registration, please, Miss,” the sheriff commanded, and she sighed. She pulled the small pack of her back and opened it.
The sheriff had the balls to put his hand on his sidearm before she even reached inside.
“Sheriff, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t need a gun,” she snapped at him, “or anything else in this bag.”
“Is that so?” The sheriff glared at her, and she saw a vein pulse in his forehead.
“I’m a new member of Vincent’s team with the International Magi Police Organization,” she informed him, reaching into her bag. The day before, Vincent had given her all new legal identification. It was probably the first set of legally acquired IDs that she’d ever had—at least in her adult years. She handed the sheriff her driver’s license and her IMPO identification.
“This doesn’t make you above the law, Magi.” The sheriff held up the IMPO identification and the cute little badge she got to carry. She didn’t like how he stressed Magi at her, when her name was right in his hands. She hadn’t realized the guys had that type of person living so close to home. Or she hoped the sheriff wasn’t that type of person. Anti-Magi assholes became more common in the more rural areas. She didn’t want to be living in an area with them. They tended to cause trouble that they couldn’t in the city.
“I didn’t think it did,” Sawyer mumbled. She hadn’t, she just thought he would like to know who she was. “I’m more than willing to take whatever ticket you give me.”
“Good,” he huffed and then walked back to his car. She waited for him to bring the ticket for her to sign. She wasn’t going fast enough to get her license revoked, but it would be pretty hefty, that much she could guarantee.
Vincent was going to be pissed.
It took nearly thirty minutes, for some unknown reason, and Sawyer was let go, ticket shoved into her bag. She kept it slow the rest of the way into town and parked at a small coffee shop. She was still frowning over the sheriff when she walked in the little café and ordered a mocha latte. She stopped frowning as she sat down at a little table and took a sip.
She hadn’t spent too much time in town, yet. She had run errands with the guys on occasion, like the day Jasper kissed her, but she had never taken time to sit and take it in.
Grace Hills, Georgia. Population five-hundred forty-three. She’d done her research on the little, one-main-street town. All the kids went to school three towns over. Two street lights, one hardware store, one café, a small building they called a town hall. The town didn’t even get its own water tower. There were two churches, Baptist and Methodist. There was a small general goods store that also stocked groceries, a little mom and pop place. A bar, the one where she picked up the guys with Elijah and Quinn.
Sawyer was very far away from her life in the big city. She continued to sip her drink as the sheriff pulled through town. She didn’t like the way he looked at her bike and groaned softly. A couple women walked in, looked at her, blanched, and looked away.
Sawyer ignored the older one’s quiet comment about how Sawyer needed to go back to her own country.
Yup, she was back in the deep backwoods of Georgia, where being a bit brown was possibly the worst thing she could have been. Fantastic. Magi on top of it? She really didn’t think Grace Hills was going to become home anytime soon. Or even mildly comfortable.
She took another sip of her drink, watching the other people inside the café. It seemed Friday mornings at the little café was the place to be. She ignored the side looks and just watched the locals meander about the small place.
Then she saw a waitress slip, and Sawyer couldn’t stop herself from using a bit of magic.
Sawyer blinked over and caught the young woman around the waist before she hit the floor and landed in the shattered glass of a coffee pot. Sawyer pulled the young woman away just in time for none of the hot coffee to hit her, but Sawyer got splashed on her leg, causing her to hiss in pain. Scalding hot water was hot. She would need to ask one of the guys to look at that. Her leathers would protect her from most damage, but she felt there was a chance it could blister.
There was silence. She released the waitress and stepped back, looking down at the coffee pot. People were staring, some gaping, others pale.
Oh yeah, they didn’t see Magi using magic here very often. Sawyer had probably just blown their little, narrow minds.
“I’ll go,” she whispered, stepping back again. The waitress only nodded, not even saying thank you. Sawyer left her drink on the table, grabbed her things and hustled out.
Her first day of freedom was shaping up to be a bit of a disaster. Just what she needed, to cause a scene. She jumped back on her motorcycle. It was time to go home before she caused some international incident in the tiny town of less than six hundred people. That would be something only she could pull off. She could easily put Grace Hills, Georgia on the map if she wanted to too. She didn’t.
She needed to ask the guys about the local feelings about Magi before she tried to be helpful again. Or before she inevitably got pulled over again by the old, fat sheriff.
Because that would happen. She liked to go fast, very fast.
4
Zander
“We shouldn’t have gotten drunk last night.” Jasper groaned. “Why did I let you convince me it was a good idea?”
“I’m not really sure,” Zander mumbled, rubbing his neck. It was stiff, thanks to the awful position he’d passed out in. He’d thought that drowning away his feelings had been a great idea. He always seemed to forget that the morning after was shitty.
“At least we have our Range Rover back?” Jasper sighed, leaning back in the driver’s seat. Zander noted they hadn’t started moving yet, though.
“Can we go home?” Zander asked, leaning his seat all the way back.
“Yeah,” Jasper muttered, turning the damn thing on. Zander thought about the night before.
“I said some things last night,” Zander whispered. “About Sawyer, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but they were things you’ve said before in about a hundred different ways.” Jasper grunted. “Zander, you have got to back off with her.”
“I don’t want to,” he said, looking at the roof of the car. “She’s our Sawyer, Jasper. I don’t care what else has happened, she’s ours.”
“You say that,” Jasper said with a bite. “But you’ll go out to Atlanta in a few weeks, get drunk again, pick up some blonde that specifically doesn’t remind you of Sawyer, and fuck her until you forget. Like always.”
Zander winced. Yeah, his life since they realized Sawyer was missing had been one of easy bodies, hard hearts, and quick rendezvous.
“Not anymore,” Zander promised. “She’s back in our lives, permanently. Sure, if things hadn’t played out the way they did, she would have left. And I’d be going back to that, but now she’s here. I saved her life—"
“Don’t be stupid enough to use that against her,” Jasper growled at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Zander snarled, sitting up. “I saved her life, and now she’s on the team. We saved her life. She’s got a chance at putting all that shit behind her. And we can…”
“You are so lovesick,” Jasper mumbled.
He was. Zander knew deep down that no one was ever going to be better than Sawyer. Now he needed to convince Jasper and Sawyer. Jasper was fighting his own rigid sense of morality, and Sawyer was wallowing somewhere in the dark, thinking happiness wasn’t for her. Sure, they could both plaster on a smile and laugh, but at the end of the day, Zander knew they were at war with themselves.
“How are you feeling?” Zander asked softly. “About everything?”
“I don’t know,” Jasper whispered. “I’m missing a leg…that fucking sucks. Sawyer is alive and staying with us, that’s amazing.”
“Not what I was asking about, though… sorry about the leg. I knew when I saw it that I coul
dn’t save it,” Zander apologized, swallowing a lump in his throat. He remembered the sight of Jasper’s crushed lower left leg. He remembered the shock Jasper was going into. Since the hospital, Jasper was coping well mentally with it. The team was thankful for that, at least.
“My leg isn’t yours or Quinn’s fault.” Jasper sighed. “As for what you are asking about… Zander, I just don’t know. I’m furious enough to hunt Axel down just to rip his head off. I’m sad enough that I sometimes want to lay in bed and not deal with it. And Sawyer… she killed people, Zander. She was infamous for it. And that’s hard to take in.”
“Is it?” Zander frowned. “Personally, I think it’s great. Not the Shadow part but… She’s strong enough to survive, and she did it all to protect people she cared about. That’s got to mean something. She never did any of it willingly. Her animal bond and a boy’s life were on the line. You can’t judge her for that—"
“Look,” Jasper snapped at him. “You asked me how I’m feeling, I’m telling you. Let’s not make an argument out of it right now.”
Zander wanted to. He wanted to shake Jasper until he rattled his friend’s brain enough that Jasper stopped caring about Sawyer’s past. Zander’s temper built at the idea that Jasper would condemn Sawyer over her history. He wanted to scream that none of it was her fault. It was theirs for leaving her.
“Jasper, we need to talk about it,” Zander growled.
“It’s been three and a half days since she woke up, Zander!” Jasper hissed, turning to him. “Give me some fucking time, please. That’s all I’m asking. Give this some time to settle. She doesn’t have any secrets anymore, and now we can really talk to her. Give me a chance to do that. Then you can argue with me, her, and anyone else you want. You can kick down my door and strangle me if I don’t agree with you. But you need to give me some time to figure it out.”
Zander went silent, fuming at Jasper’s avoidance of the conversation. He didn’t care if Jasper had a point. He could ignore that. Zander dealt with problems the moment they showed up, and he didn’t need time to figure out what he wanted. Jasper could drag his feet.
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