Fury (Institute of Unpredictable Magic Book 2)

Home > Other > Fury (Institute of Unpredictable Magic Book 2) > Page 10
Fury (Institute of Unpredictable Magic Book 2) Page 10

by Sadie Moss


  She walks into the room like she owns it, but in a casual kind of way. Holding hands with her is the dark-haired mind reader that I met when he showed Logan and me to our final recruitment challenge. Asher Prince. He’s one of her partners, and I mean that in a professional and a personal sense. Elliot has four boyfriends, and they all work together at IUM.

  Roman is behind her. Ah, crap. He’s her boyfriend too, but he was also my part-time professor at Griffin. I know he can see me, and I want the floor to swallow me.

  What am I supposed to say?

  Hi, Professor. I know you said I was very promising, but apparently I’m still bungling my very first mission. Sorry about the misplaced faith in me?

  Behind Roman are Elliot’s other two boyfriends, a blond and a guy with dark hair—Cam and Dmitri. They’re arguing quietly with each other, but they don’t seem angry. More like they’re arguing over which TV show is better, that kind of thing.

  How can they all be so relaxed? I didn’t throw up at the park, but I still feel like I might at any moment.

  “Settle down, settle down,” Stone says, raising his voice. Everyone quiets immediately, and I see Elliot perk up from where she’s sitting. She might be relaxed, but she’s definitely taking this seriously.

  “As some of you are aware to varying degrees, we’ve run into a unique disturbance in the magical community.” Stone gives a brief outline of the timeline of events. He manages to actually make me sound good, which only makes my cheeks burn even hotter.

  “Agent Parker has been doing an admirable job of leading a small team on trying to identify and neutralize this threat, but after such a public display, we feel it’s time we mobilize all of IUM to keep an eye on this so that nobody else gets hurt. Already, public opinion is leaning toward panic.”

  “Doesn’t it always?” I hear Elliot mutter.

  Nick must hear her too, because he chuckles.

  “Our biggest concern is that while we are still unsure of the identity of our first victim,” Stone continues, “both the second and third victim were according to their records non-Unpredictables. This new magic is giving them powers that are not only far stronger than their original ones but are of a completely different nature.”

  A rustle goes through the crowd and whispers start up. I wince. At least nobody here is panicking? For now, at least.

  “We have no idea how this magic spreads,” Stone continues, and I see one of Elliot’s boyfriends, Cam, start to put his hand up and then lower it when Stone says those words. He must’ve been about to ask if we had any idea, and I feel a pang of guilt that we don’t. Shouldn’t we know more than this by now?

  “So we want everyone to be on full alert. If you see or hear of any of this kind of magic—and we’ll be sending you all an email with identifying traits and some more detailed information—you’re to report this to Agent Parker and Agent DeWitt immediately. They’re in charge of this investigation.

  “I know that you all want to help, but the last thing we need is a repeat of last April with too many cooks in the kitchen.”

  There are some chuckles from the assembled agents, and I suspect that whatever happened last April, at least it was something humorous.

  “So please, intervene if you must in order to protect people, but don’t try to take over the operation, and pass on any information you have. If you can, don’t pursue something, just hold down the perimeter and get a hold of Parker and DeWitt, and they’ll get on the scene to take care of things. Use your discretion and common sense.”

  Everyone nods. Stone gives a slightly tired smile, like he wants to reassure everyone but isn’t even sure himself how this is going to go.

  “All right,” he says. “Dismissed.”

  The room begins to empty, and I exhale slowly, looking at the three men who are still sitting in the seats near me. Logan seems stoic and prepared. Nick looks a bit jittery, the first time I’ve really seen him off his game and not just plain old excited.

  Is he still angry about before? About the things people were saying at the park?

  I wouldn’t be surprised. He fought for years to help out Unpredictables and now, at the first sign of possible danger that could really be related to anything, people are ready to blame Unpredictables all over again and be afraid of them for no good reason.

  Saint, however, is the one really concerning me. He’s sitting there like a stone, like he doesn’t even want to move, and it breaks my heart.

  I get up from my seat to grab him, but before I can, Elliot passes me by, nodding at me. It seems to be an encouraging nod, and for a second, my brain short-circuits at the fact that she’s even noticing me. I mean, of course she would, the whole briefing was about my mission, but still.

  Elliot fucking Sinclair noticed me.

  Cue internal screaming.

  “Roman’s told me about you,” she says, and my breathing stops for a second. “He says you did great work at Griffin. I’m sure you’ll do well on this.”

  She moves on, the rest of her men following her, and Roman gives me a nod as he passes.

  Holy shit. I might faint. My hero just told me she knows who I am and that she thinks I’ll do a good job on this.

  I am so not cool enough for this.

  After the meeting wraps up, the last few hours of the workday speed by. The guys and I all hunker down and do what we can to hash out a plan of attack for next time we encounter someone with this strange magic. As people start to filter out of the building around five o’clock, I realize we have another issue I didn’t even think of.

  Saint needs somewhere to stay.

  He doesn’t have a home or an apartment or anything—he only just got out of prison this morning.

  “You can stay at my place,” Nick offers. “Big fancy penthouse, plenty of space, you can borrow some proper clothes…”

  “Or you can stay at mine,” I point out. “Since I’m in charge of this investigation and technically your handler for this.”

  I might as well be his parole officer, and I don’t think the warden or anyone else will look too kindly upon Nick, a random civilian, playing host to a onetime prisoner.

  “That’s probably the smarter idea,” Logan agrees, smiling at me.

  “I could crash at your place too,” Nick offers, looking a bit hopeful.

  “You have that big fancy apartment,” I reply, arching a brow at him.

  Nick looks annoyed with himself, like he’s wishing he didn’t have a home so that he had an excuse to crash with me.

  I find myself smiling at him in response, pleased to know that he wants to spend time with me, that he wants to be with us. He doesn’t seem jealous of Saint in the sense that he wants to push the other man out—just jealous that Saint gets time with me and he doesn’t.

  Logan’s still smiling, and I feel a bit of worry fade away.

  Maybe we can make this work, whatever it is. Maybe what once seemed impossible isn’t as far out of reach as my fear and insecurities told me it was.

  Saint shrugs. “Sure.”

  He’s still oddly stiff, and it’s not like him—at least, not around us. He was at first, but I’ve seen him change and come out of his shell. He’s started to trust us, and I hope he’s started to feel like one of us. Maybe being in a safe place like my apartment will help.

  Because I refuse to let him get lost inside his own head again.

  Chapter 14

  Since Nick drove us all to the park, he offers to drop us all off at our respective destinations before heading home. He drives Saint and me to my place first, informing us as we climb out of the car that he’ll have someone drop off some new clothes for Saint to wear.

  “He can’t just go around looking like that,” he announces, gesturing to the gruff man’s outfit.

  Saint looks down at his clothes like he’s wondering what the hell is wrong with worn jeans and a t-shirt. I don’t have the heart to tell him that those clothes have been sitting in lockup for years and they do not look their best.<
br />
  “Have a fun night,” Logan says. He got out of the car when we did, and now he hugs Saint, who looks startled at the show of affection. Then Logan gently places his hands on my waist, kissing me softly. “Try to stay out of trouble while we’re not around, yeah?”

  “If any of us is likely to get in trouble, it’s Nick,” I point out.

  “Hey!” Nick says in mock protest. His devilish smile undercuts his attempt at pretending to be offended though, and his hazel eyes dance with amusement.

  Logan gets back into Nick’s car and waves at us. I wave back, feeling giddy and foolish all at once. Logan really is okay with this whole unconventional relationship thing. He’s so relaxed, and that kiss he just gave me was sweet and easy, not possessive or like he was trying to say back off she’s mine.

  Saint’s still dead quiet and stiff, as I lead him inside my apartment, showing him the code to get in and taking him up in the elevator. I don’t know where else he might stay for now besides Nick’s apartment, and I can’t really have that, legally, since Nick is a civilian—so Saint might as well know the code.

  “I’ll get you a key made tomorrow,” I promise as I lead him inside. “Sorry about… all this.”

  Saint’s completely quiet as he looks around my apartment. My siblings decorated it for me, and I think it looks pretty cute. I keep it neat and clean, because I’m that kind of Type A personality, but I’m not sure that it’s… me. It still kind of feels like my childhood bedroom that my siblings also decorated for me. It’s perfectly lovely, but it’s not exactly mine.

  Given that I felt more at home in Logan’s apartment than my own, maybe it’s not so much the decorations as it is the people, or lack of them.

  Saint sits down on one of the chairs that I have situated near the kitchen counter, his jaw so tight that I’m surprised I can’t hear his teeth grinding together. Something’s clearly wrong with him.

  Okay. I’m not really good at this kind of thing, but I can do my best. I can try.

  “Hey.” I smile as I sit down next to him. “What’s going on?”

  Saint shrugs. I glare at him, pursing my lips.

  “Come on, talk to me. Please. I know that something’s up, and I’m only going to keep pushing until you tell me what it is.”

  Saint’s jaw clenches, and he looks away. I give him a moment. I really want him to open up to me. Not because I’m in charge of him or anything, but because I care about him. Because I like to think that we’re… kind of, sort of friends? In a way?

  After a minute, he looks back at me, his gray eyes haunted. “I was just thinking that you should’ve left me in prison.”

  “What?” I grab his hand before I can stop myself. “Saint. No. It was destroying you. You were so… you weren’t yourself in there.” And I can’t blame him. Darkstone Penitentiary looks like it would do that to anyone. “I’m glad I could get you out. You deserve to be outside. You’re not a bad person.”

  Saint snorts. “I’m glad you think that. But you’re wrong.”

  “Is this about earlier? With the crowd? They’re just scared and stupid. You saw how they were ready to turn on Unpredictables again. They’re not even worth listening to.”

  Saint sighs and turns to face me completely. “Rae. You need to understand. Those people were right. Not for the reasons they thought, but they were.”

  “How?” I demand stubbornly.

  I want him to explain to me how he’s such an awful person so I can shoot down his arguments. I haven’t lost a debate yet and I have the trophies to prove it.

  Saint gives me a long, searching look, as if he’s trying to see if I really mean it. Then he sighs, and his whole body seems to slump. Like the tension has gone out of him, but instead, he’s laid himself bare.

  “Unpredictables aren’t monsters,” I add, my voice going quiet. “If you’re a monster, then I’m a monster. All right? We’re going to get through this together.”

  “That’s what you don’t get.” Saint shakes his head. “You’re not a monster. Of course you’re not. But I am. You don’t know…” His jaw muscles tighten again. “I know you’re aware of my super senses, but that’s not the only magic I possess. I have more than one power.”

  That’s not unusual in Unpredictables. Whereas other magic users just have their one form of magic, like water manipulation if you’re a water elementalist or the ability to enchant objects, Unpredictables can have two or sometimes even three powers.

  Mine are telekinesis and shapeshifting into animals, for example.

  I stay quiet, trying not to hold my breath as I gaze at the rugged man. I sense there’s more to this story rather than simply the fact that Saint has an additional power that I didn’t know about.

  Saint looks like he wants to back away from me, like he wants to put space between us—not for his sake but for mine. It takes a long moment before he speaks, but I stay quiet, giving him the time he needs.

  “My other power is fear projection,” he says finally. “I can… I can make people see what they most fear. They feel terrified, and when people are scared, they sometimes start to… they can attack others.”

  “Yes. They do.” Fear is the biggest enemy in our world, if you ask me. People are so often afraid of what’s different, of what’s not like them. They’re afraid of what they don’t understand. It’s why they were so awful to Unpredictables for so long—because we don’t know what our magic will be until it manifests, and it’s not like anyone else’s magic, it’s unique, our own, and it can be very powerful.

  “I was out with my family one day,” Saint continues. “We were at one of those horror night things that they do at amusement parks. And I got scared. It was stupid, really. I know it’s not real. But I was scared, and my power manifested. It started making everyone around me freak out. And I couldn’t control it. I didn’t know how to make it work. So people turned on us. They started attacking my family. I think they thought that my family were the monsters or something. I’m still not sure. I can’t see what others see when they’re afraid. I just bring it out of them. I can control it now, manipulate it. I’m not in their heads though. I can’t see what they see, so I can only guess.”

  Saint takes a deep breath, then another.

  “But it doesn’t really matter. Either way. Because the crowd attacked my family, and I tried to protect them. And in protecting them, I—I killed someone.”

  My breath catches in my throat. I suspected that was where his story was heading. I know Saint killed someone, and when he started talking about this… I mean, where else could it be headed? But it’s still making my breath stick in my throat as if the air has gotten too thick.

  I want to reach out and take his hand, but I’m not sure if I can. If he’ll let me.

  Saint keeps going. “I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t mean to. But I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to stop it or protect my family. I was just trying to do the right thing. And it was all my fault.”

  “You went to prison for that?” I can’t help but ask him.

  He gives me a look. “Of course I did.”

  “It was self-defense! The crowd attacked you and your family!”

  “But my magic started it. My magic made them do it.”

  “Maybe your magic scared them, but it was their choice to get violent over it. That was up to them, not you. You didn’t control them.”

  “Now I can, sort of. I can use the fear to convince people to do things.” Saint looks completely broken, like he’s his own worst nightmare. “They wouldn’t have done any of that if it wasn’t for me. They wouldn’t have attacked my family.”

  “You couldn’t control it.”

  “If you’re driving a car and lose control and you kill someone, you still go to jail.”

  I reach out, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You couldn’t control it, Saint. Magic is different, it’s not a car. You were trying to do what you could to protect your family.”

  “They don’t see it that way
.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that my family hates me now. Or they distrust me, at least. I haven’t seen them since I was sent to Darkstone. I think they’re scared of me and what I can do. Most people are.”

  “You mean your family just abandoned you?”

  I can’t even imagine my siblings abandoning me. Max and Pen love me. They raised me after our parents died. They’ve done everything for me, and I’m so close to them, I genuinely can’t imagine not having them in my life. The idea that they would ever stop talking to me makes my chest ache.

  But it’s almost impossible for me to picture a scenario where that would happen. I can’t imagine anything that would get in between us or cause them to lose faith in me, or me in them.

  What kind of family does Saint have that they would do this to him?

  That they would be afraid of him and wouldn’t try to see things from his perspective?

  I squeeze his hand tighter. “I won’t ever do that. I won’t give up on you. And I’m sure Nick and Logan won’t either.”

  Saint shakes his head, but he doesn’t pull his hand away from me. I take that as a good sign.

  “I don’t believe what people say about Unpredictables,” he murmurs. “I know they’re not monsters. You’re not. Logan’s not. I’ve met too many Unpredictables to believe otherwise. People are stupid for condemning all of us. But they got it right with me. I’m a monster. I cause fear in people. What kind of person does that?”

  “Any power can be put to evil if you set your mind to it,” I reply. “It’s not what your power is, it’s how you use it. I didn’t even know you had this power.”

  “I don’t like to use it.”

  “Exactly. You could’ve used it on the mage in the mountains, or on this poor man today. It probably would’ve made things easier. But you didn’t.”

  “It’s not worth the risk.”

  “Right.” I let go of his hand and take his face in mine. I have no idea what I’m doing, but somehow, with Saint, I seem to be the one with more experience in this whole… emotions department.

 

‹ Prev