by Mia Marshall
I knew he blamed himself for not recognizing what Brian was. I blamed myself too, though it was neither of our faults. “You got there in the end,” I reminded him.
“Yeah. I have a bad habit of showing up after the worst of the danger’s already passed.” There was an edge to his voice, a mocking tone directed squarely at himself. I thought he was remembering far more than that one night.
“Hey.” Before I had time to think about what I was doing, my hand was on his upper arm, wrapped loosely around his bicep. My instant awareness of the touch was reflected in his eyes, and I awkwardly released my grip, letting my hand drift to my side. “I thought you said you know better than to try and protect me.”
His snort conveyed both his exasperation and amusement. “Well, I know better than to eat a fourth serving of pie, too, but I still do that every Thanksgiving.”
Blowing out my breath in an exaggerated sigh, I easily pulled the river to me and circled it around the two of us until we stood in a cyclone of water powerful enough to yank us both into the river and hold us below the surface if I asked it to do so. I tried to offer Mac a serene smile, but I’m pretty certain it veered into smug. “I can handle myself.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Do you plan on carrying a river with you wherever you go?” He wasn’t joking.
I didn’t know where this version of Mac was coming from. He’d never been anything but quietly supportive before. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sharper than intended.
I kept the water spinning around us, our own private cocoon where the rules of the outside world might not apply. I could feel tension and frustration pouring off him. I’d felt something similar before, when we’d first met and he’d shown me what it looked like when an enormous adult male had a temper tantrum. He wanted to rage, I thought, to release the poison crawling through his mind.
I thickened the water, trapping him with me. “Tell me.”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment I knew the beast was looking at me. He blinked, and he was just Mac again. Agitated and angry, but Mac. “Seeing James like that, it was a reminder of how little control we really have. How easy it is to be hurt. Aidan, I look at you and I see so many ways I could lose you. To your insane parents. To the elementals if they ever find out what you are. To your—” He stopped abruptly. To yourself, he’d wanted to say.
Everything he said was true, which was why it was so irritating. I felt something begin to break, and I stopped playing fair. “What do you mean, ‘lose you’? You didn’t want me, remember? So you don’t get to stand here now and act like I’m yours.”
He was practically vibrating with suppressed emotion now. It was anger and hurt and, above all, a fear I didn’t understand. “Don’t be stupid, Aidan. I never said that.”
I felt the water slip, for just a moment, and I fought to hold it steady. I had to prove him wrong. He had to know I was in control.
“No, you said I wasn’t ready to be kissing anyone. And now you’re telling me you don’t think I can protect myself. You really don’t think highly of my ability to decide for myself, do you?” Even as I spoke the words, I knew I was distorting his meaning on purpose, trying to hurt him the way I was hurting. I’d thought I was okay with him wanting distance. I was wrong.
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “I never said that, either! You know I want you. You know I think you’re amazing. You know that.”
I did know that, but it seemed to make no difference. “Then why?” I wanted to sound in control, but I couldn’t. When you’re asking the man you want more than any other why he won’t be with you, control isn’t easy to come by.
He shook his head, a sharp gesture intended to remove the anguish creeping across his features. “Let’s forget, for a moment, that you ran away to Oregon.” I began to protest, but he ignored me, determined to finish. “How can we be together? We’re fighting, and I’m terrified to yell at you. I thought I was okay with the half-fire thing, but I will not be the one who pushes you over the edge. I’m not always a calm man, Aidan, and you can’t be around that. You can’t be angry or frustrated or anything that might trigger the fire.”
I knew he meant well, but his intention didn’t matter. I’d spent most of my life with other people making decisions for me, and I couldn’t accept Mac being one of them. Of all the people in the world, I needed him to think I could take care of myself, and learning that he didn’t think that turned my irritation into the very anger he was trying to prevent.
I took one deliberate step toward him until we were nose to nose. Well, nose to clavicle. I tilted my head up and met his worried brown eyes. “So, to be clear, I’m the delicate china doll that needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap and carried around, lest someone break her?” There was iron in my voice. Iron and fire.
“Will you stop twisting my words? I’m not worried about someone breaking you!” That time, he wasn’t able to find his quiet voice, and the words were shouted directly in my face. My own rage rose in response. Part of me wanted to scream at him. Another part wanted to push against him, to force this enormous man to bend to my will. And a final part, larger than it had any right to be, just wanted to claw at him, to press my lips to his and devour him until we were both lost.
I did none of those. My anger did what it always did, and the rage from my fire side blocked my connection to the water. The cone of river water, freed from my control, crashed around us, soaking us both. Neither of us moved or even seemed to notice.
“I’m worried you’ll break yourself,” he whispered. “And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” Without another word, he returned to his trailer, leaving me on the river bank, shivering for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.
Mac joined the rest of the cabin for breakfast, and we both did our best to pretend nothing had happened.
When I finally remembered to tell him my nighttime realization and my plan to visit my father, he immediately phoned his family with the new information and let them know he’d be busy all that day.
It didn’t matter if we were fighting. There was no way he was going to let me face my father without the support of friends. It really wasn’t easy to stay angry at the man.
He wasn’t alone. While my friends had confidence in my ability to function day-to-day without going crazy, they apparently didn’t view a visit to Josiah, during which I asked whether he’d started abducting shifter children, as a day-to-day activity. They collectively decided I needed supervision.
A lot of supervision, in fact. We took Mac’s Bronco, because it was difficult to fit three elementals and two shifters into Sera’s much smaller car. In case I wasn’t secure enough with four babysitters, they’d placed me in the back seat, with Simon and Vivian bracing me on either side.
I suspected the company had much to do with that morning’s loss of control. The kitchen window overlooked the river, and anyone watching my confrontation with Mac would have seen the rage briefly consume me. My friends knew that every time I accidentally tapped into the fire magic, I was slowly creating a schism between the two halves of my psyche. This morning, that short loss of control had likely pushed me one step closer to insanity, a fact I really wanted to ignore. I didn’t feel any crazier than normal. Not yet, at least.
Even so, I needed to stay calm. It was just that simple. Calm and controlled at all times, just as I’d been raised. It sounded peaceful and mind-numbingly dull.
I looked to my right. Vivian was looking out the window, her face serene as she quietly observed the passing scenery. “Do you ever get angry?” I asked.
She turned to me surprised. “Of course I do.”
“Really? When?”
Sera twisted in her seat to listen in. Mac had refused to let her take over his stereo, and she needed some form of entertainment for the drive. “Seriously, Viv, when?”
Vivian fidgeted under our dual scrutiny. “Last week. You were both there. Remember when I couldn’t break into the MI-6 database?”
I looked at her, dumbfounded. “You mean the night you cursed twice and ate a large bowl of ice cream?”
Vivian nodded. “I dislike being thwarted.”
That I could believe. So far as I could tell, Vivian had no intention of selling national secrets to terrorist factions or blackmailing high ranking government officials. She simply wanted to know everything there was to know, and she viewed a government firewall the same way the rest of us viewed a somewhat challenging Sudoku. It was nothing more than a puzzle to be solved.
“But...” I could tell Sera was trying to figure out how to phrase her next words without sounding condescending. Finally, she gave up. “You’d make a lousy fire, Viv.”
“Thank goodness for that,” said Simon. “We have enough hotheads in this car. I can’t be the only one in favor of a calm, reasonable approach to life’s problems.”
“Hey!” I protested. “When I’m not setting things on fire, I’m totally reasonable.” I decided to change the subject before anyone began a rebuttal. “So, Vivian, how did you manage to calm yourself down from that shocking fit of rage?”
A small, self-satisfied smile crossed her face. “I broke into the MI-5 archives. They were redacted files, though,” she added modestly.
Sera whistled, impressed. “If you ever decide to take over the world, can I be your consultant? I can think of a few changes I’d like to make.”
“Pancakes on every restaurant menu,” I suggested. “And none of those weird-ass fruit-flavored syrups, either.”
“I was thinking we give in to global warming for a while. You cold weather-loving freaks have had your day,” said Sera.
“A koi pond in every yard,” said Simon. The distant, dreamy look in his eyes suggested he wasn’t entirely joking.
“Reunite The Clash,” added Sera. “We can reanimate Joe Strummer, right?”
“Do you listen to any bands in which all the members still live, Sera?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Hey, the good ones always go young while the boy bands live forever. What about you, Mac? What would you change?”
His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, his somber gaze reflecting none of the others’ levity. “I’ll get back to you.”
He swung the wheel, turning us into the parking lot of Truckee’s lone luxury hotel, the building Josiah owned and lived in when in town. The place he intended to call home until I finally saw his version of reason and returned with him to Hawaii. “I’d like to have fewer crazy relatives,” I said quietly. I glanced at Sera, staring at me with more compassion than I could handle. “Present company excluded, of course. You’ll always be nuts.”
She grinned, and the expression vanished from her face. “Gotta keep up with you. Sisters are supposed to be competitive, you know.”
As we walked to the lobby, my friends quietly surrounded me, forming a protective barrier. Though I hated being treated as weak in any way, I found the support touching, even knowing how ineffective it was. Josiah could incinerate them in an instant if he felt so inclined. He also had to know that if he did so, Sera and I would be lost to him forever. I suspected he had a few more cards to play before resorting to such extreme measures.
“Ms. Blais. Ms. Brook. I’m Jonathan, Mr. Blais’s new personal assistant.” A young man rushed up to us. His dark eyes and hair and bronze skin identified him as being almost certainly a fire, and a reasonably strong one to still have the traditional coloring. Though he looked eighteen, he could have easily been well into his 30s or even 40s, depending on how much elemental blood coursed through his veins.
He was handsome, with a carefully tailored suit and tidy haircut he’d likely paid too much money for. Josiah always did like to surround himself with signs of wealth and control, creating the sort of environment that relaxed him while causing everyone around him to tense up.
Jonathan clearly was not expecting us, and our presence had him panicking. “Mr. Blais did not tell me you were coming. He’s not here at the moment, but I’m certain he’d want you to wait.” He attempted to herd Sera and me toward the elevators while determinedly ignoring our friends.
I planted my feet. “When do you expect him back?”
“Oh, any time, any time. Please, you can wait upstairs.” I watched him carefully as he spoke the airy words, and I saw the hard flint in his eyes. He knew Josiah was eager for his daughters to return to him, and Jonathan was determined to keep us at the hotel until his boss returned.
Naturally, this made me even more determined to leave.
“Where is he? We can go to him.” I smiled, a big, harmless smile I didn’t mean in the slightest.
“He’s looking at a new piece of property on the south shore. Really, he’ll be back any minute.” Once again, he tried to push us toward the elevator. He made the mistake of placing a hand on Sera’s and my backs. Sera, of course, would not be pushed anywhere, and she firmly planted her feet. My absolute lack of muscle tone gave him some advantage, and he’d have been able to move me closer to the elevator if he hadn’t been stopped cold by the low growls coming from two of my companions’ throats.
Vivian watched the entire scene, more entertained than concerned. I knew she disliked lingering in the hotel lobby—her dreads, combat boots, and well-worn Doctor Who t-shirt made her stand out in this five-star hotel—but for the moment, she appeared to be enjoying herself fully. I realized it was a long time since I’d seen her smiling so easily, and I hoped it meant the distracted Vivian of the last few weeks was a thing of the past.
Jonathan was having considerably less fun. He hastily dropped his arms to the side and held his hands out, palms up, trying to show us how innocent his intentions truly were.
“Mr. Blais only wishes to speak to you. I know he’d want you to wait.” I couldn’t shake the suspicion that, if we chose to wait in the penthouse, we’d find ourselves trapped until Josiah returned, or possibly teleported to the volcano compound. If anyone on earth knew how to teleport people, it would be Josiah.
I tilted my head and tried to soften my expression, looking innocent. Jonathan took a step backward.
Someday, my face was actually going to make the expression I asked it to make, but today was not that day. I gave up, and laid it out for him. “We are going to leave now, Jonathan. You can either tell us where Josiah is, so we can go directly to him and he can speak to us, as he wishes,” I placed no small amount of emphasis on that final word. “Or we can leave, and wander around for a bit. Maybe go out of town for a few days. Maybe check into a hotel where he can’t find us. And then, you’d get to explain to him just why you were so determined not to divulge his location.”
All the blood drained from Jonathan’s face, causing him to look at least a decade or two older. “Of course, Ms. Brook.” He quickly scrawled the address on a piece of hotel stationery, handed it to us, and scurried away.
“Should I feel bad about abusing that lackey?” I asked curiously. After all, the poor man was just doing his job. It wasn’t his fault that job required him to do my father’s evil bidding.
“No,” said Sera, plucking the paper from my hands. “He needs to be tougher than that to work for our father. You did him a favor.”
I turned around and promptly pulled up short to avoid crashing into Carmen. I had no idea how long she’d been standing there. None of us had sensed her arrival, so quietly had she approached. Damn cat feet.
Mac was scowling, and even Simon looked a bit miffed. I suspected they really didn’t like anyone getting the drop on them, particularly another shifter. The self-satisfied smile hovering around her lips let me know she was well aware of this fact.
“Where is he?” Carmen asked Sera, glancing pointedly at the slip of paper in her hand.
Sera’s scowl mirrored Mac’s, and for a moment I thought she might swallow the evidence, simply to prevent Carmen from getting something she wanted. Instead, she tucked it neatly into the front pocket of her black jeans and held the woman’s gaze, Sera’s blank expression more than a match
for Carmen’s smug one. “He’ll be back soon. You can wait.”
Instead, Carmen took a single step forward, until she took up Sera’s entire frame of vision. She was a couple of inches taller, and Sera was forced to tilt her head to maintain the stare. Sera maintained the expressionless mask she wore when she was the most volatile, but I saw tiny sparks coming from her fingers, the magic close to the surface. Worryingly, I noticed that Carmen’s nails were extending, hinting at the deadly claws she carried in her alternate form.
I wanted to believe they were just posturing, but I couldn’t be sure. If it came down to it, Sera should win any battle. With her magic, she could set Carmen on fire in the blink of an eye. Carmen might be intimidating, but I suspected even she needed a moment to recover from third degree burns.
However, there’d be no room in such a fight for even a moment of hesitation. Carmen could shift in the space of a heartbeat and rake a long claw across Sera’s throat, slicing the jugular before Sera was even able to singe her eyebrows. Death tended to bring an abrupt halt to any magical offense.
Regardless of who would win, I knew we didn’t want the battle to occur in the busy lobby of a luxury hotel.
“Why do you want to see him?” I asked. I had a fairly good idea, but I hoped such a harmless question would defuse the situation, at least temporarily.
She tilted her head toward me, considering me with large, unblinking eyes. It was strange to watch her movements, so similar to Simon’s and yet so foreign. She was a predator in a twin set. It didn’t seem to matter to her how much power we could wield. Until we proved otherwise, we were prey. I forced myself to hold her stare, knowing she’d interpret it as a challenge. To be fair, it was easy to be brave when defended on all sides and when at least one of those bodyguards had claws that made hers look downright dainty.
