by Sadie Moss
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. I can’t see my siblings’ worried faces, but I can picture them perfectly. I’m glad that my nephews aren’t in the room at Max’s house, since they’re probably in school at this hour. I wouldn’t want them to accidentally overhear this.
“That sounds like a lot, Rae,” Penelope says at last, her voice a bit tentative. “Are you sure that you’re holding up okay?”
“I’m doing fine,” I assure her. “I have a good team of people working with me. And I knew it could be like this when I signed up for IUM. This isn’t anything I wasn’t prepared for.”
“True, but…” I can practically hear my older sister remembering that I’m not the kind of person who backs down on things. “Well, as long as you’re getting the support that you need, that’s good. Who’s on your team? Besides Logan?”
I tell them about Nick and Saint. And maybe I’m a little more open and enthusiastic about them than I would normally let myself be, but can you blame me? I’m trying to distract my siblings from being worried about me, and honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone about the guys. About how great they are. I’m really lucky to have them, I realize, as I describe them to my siblings. I truly am.
“They sound like great people,” Max says when I finish speaking. There’s a lighthearted tone to his voice again, which is a relief. “You’re lucky to have such great people with you. Are you actually hanging out with them outside of work?”
“Uh, yeah, sort of. I’m starting to. I’m trying to.”
“What about Logan?” Penelope says, a teasing note definitely present in her words. “How’s he doing?”
“Ah. He’s great. He’s really great.”
“Mmm. Have you two…”
“Oh my god, I’m not giving you two details about anything that may or may not have happened between me and my work partner.”
“He likes you,” Max points out. “And I bet these other two guys like you too.”
“Max!”
“What?” My brother laughs. “You should open up to them, Rae. Let them into your life. If nothing else, you’ll get more friends. Those are always good.”
“And officially ask Logan out!” Penelope adds with a chuckle.
“You two are the worst,” I groan.
“But you’ll think about it?” Max’s tone turns serious again. “You need support right now, Rae. You’re doing really well, and we’re proud of you. All of us are. But it’s a stressful job, and it sounds like what you’re going through is hard.”
“You need people around you to keep your chin up,” Penelope adds. “These guys all seem really great. We like Logan, and if Nick and Saint are the way you say they are, then I know we’ll like them too if we ever get to meet them.”
I think my siblings would like Saint right away. They’d want to adopt him. But Nick would either delight them or drive them nuts. He drove me nuts at first too, actually. He’s an acquired taste, and I’m sure he’d be the first person to admit it.
And even just telling my siblings what’s happened with the strange magic makes my stomach tighten and a shiver run down my spine. I don’t have answers to what’s going on with this new, unidentified magic. I don’t know what’s going to happen today or tomorrow, or if we’re going to end up with another dead body on our hands.
Fuck. I really, really hope we don’t.
Maybe my siblings have a point about leaning on the people around me. They certainly need to lean on me too. At least, Saint clearly does.
“I’m going to do my best,” I promise them. “I can’t promise anything. But I will try.”
“That’s all we can ask of you, sis,” Pen says. “You have the job you always wanted. Now fill your life with people.”
“We’re rooting for you,” Max adds. “On all of it.”
When I finish up my phone call and emerge from the bathroom, Saint is curled up on the bed, eyes open, watching me.
Ah. So I guess I was right about his super hearing.
“You heard all of that, didn’t you?” I ask, scrunching up my nose.
A small smile slides across his face. I bet he could hear the entire conversation even without using his powers. My siblings aren’t exactly quiet, and this is a little apartment.
I walk over to him, and the moment I hit the edge of the bed, he reaches out and grabs me by the wrist, pulling me in. He doesn’t say anything, but I don’t think he has to. With Saint, I’m not expecting a lot of words anyway. He doesn’t really use them as his main form of communication, and that’s fine with me.
He draws me closer until I nearly fall over right into his chest.
I can feel him chuckle as he balances me out, and I straddle his lap, his arms wrapping around me. It’s as if, between the sex and the sleep, his hard edges have been worn down. Softened. I smile down at him, and he smiles back up at me a little hopelessly, as if he can’t help himself.
It’s fucking gorgeous.
I want Saint to smile like this every day.
He should be this happy every day.
I want to be a part of making him this happy, but I feel like his entire life should just be like this. He shouldn’t hate himself, and he shouldn’t have people abandon him or view him as a monster. He’s a good person, and he deserves good things.
I want to say something to him, something of that nature, but I don’t want to bring up any more bad memories by reminding him of how the rest of the world, how his own family, has treated him.
So instead, I just kiss him again. Saint smiles into the kiss, his hands skimming warmly up and down my back. I’d like to stay with him, right here, for the rest of the day.
Just hanging out. Cuddling. Definitely having sex again.
But we can’t afford to laze around, as much as I want to. We have to get to work and see what we can do about this magic before it spreads to more people. So far, at least, we’ve been lucky in that it only seems to be infecting one person at a time, but if it’s a disease of some kind, then it could easily spread to multiple people.
We could have several crazed and powerful magic users on our hands at once. Maybe even a pandemic.
And that is the absolute last thing we need right now.
Reluctantly, I pull away from him, and we both slide off the bed to get ready for work.
It’s weird, having someone else in my apartment. I’ve never had anyone besides Max and Penelope in a home with me. At Griffin, I had roommates to start out with, but I quickly transferred to a single dorm room. I preferred it that way. And this isn’t a dorm room at a university. This is my home. It’s different.
Luckily, having someone else in it isn’t uncomfortable in the way I feared it might be. It’s nice, actually. Saint’s quiet, but he seems comfortable in the space.
I remember Logan cooking dinner the other night, and I wonder what it would be like if he was here too, whipping up breakfast for us. Or Nick ordering us something because he’s extravagant that way, all four of us gathering in the kitchen to eat and drink coffee, talking and joking about whatever comes to mind.
It’s an image I never thought I’d have, but now that it’s in my head, I can’t get it out. I feel like someone’s taken my heart in their fist and squeezed, making my chest ache in a pleasant way.
I think I’d really like that.
Max and Penelope are entirely to blame for this. I want it officially stated for the record. This is all their fault. Their little pep talk on the phone has got me daydreaming about all kinds of crazy things.
Saint puts on his clothes from yesterday, but we each have a text from Nick that says he’s bringing fresh clothes for him to IUM so that Saint can have something proper to wear. Knowing Nick, it’s probably a whole wardrobe.
“You good?” I ask before we head out the door, just to make sure. Saint might be nervous about going back into IUM today, and I understand why.
He nods. He’s not smiling, but he still seems softer than yesterday.
; “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 17
I would really, really, really like today to go smoothly and according to plan. But all the same, I walk into IUM prepared for anything.
Nick grabs us first thing after we arrive and shoves several bags of clothes at Saint.
“Go change so that you actually can show off how good looking you are,” he instructs. “And burn those clothes. I mean burn them. Don’t even throw them away. I want to see smoke.”
“You’ll set off the fire alarms,” I point out. “Please don’t burn them.”
Nick sighs. “Rae, light of my life, you’re no fun.”
The entire complex has a buzz of hectic energy that’s unusual. I’m used to seeing people walk through the halls with purpose, but it’s more than that today. Everyone around us is dashing madly, having to deal with a bunch of phone calls rushing in and people coming to IUM to ask if they’re going to be safe.
“What’s going on?” I ask, craning my neck a little as I look around.
“Word got out that the second and third victims weren’t actually Unpredictables the way the public thought,” Logan says with a sigh. He looks tired already, like he needs a nap, even though he probably got here just before Saint and I did. “They were regular magic users. And so now everyone’s worried that they’re going to get this disease too.”
Fuck. “Is it on the news?”
“A bit. Stone’s working on keeping it as contained as possible.”
“And people are reporting everyone,” Nick adds, sounding disgusted. “Anyone they don’t like, or anyone they feel is acting just a little strangely. They’re convinced that the person’s got it, so they’re reporting them. Apparently, IUM’s been up to their eyeballs all fucking night with false reports.”
Damn it. That’s only going to make our job harder. This is pandemonium.
“We have to do something about this,” I say. “Something to calm people down. If it’s already leaking out, then it’s too late to keep a lid on it. I think we should do an official report so that people aren’t just relying on gossip.”
At least that way people will have accurate information. It’s going to be so much harder to track down people who actually have this magic issue if we’ve got all these fake cases to wade through first, and that could mean another life lost.
The thought makes me shudder. I don’t want that. I can’t get the images of those dead bodies out of my head.
Not just dead, but violently so. Blood everywhere. It’s enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
Nick and Logan nod in solemn agreement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nick this angry before. I wasn’t even sure he was capable of this kind of anger.
“I’ll go on the news,” he says shortly. “Don’t worry, Rae, I’ll arrange everything.”
“What—Nick, are you sure?”
“Yeah. I got this.” He pulls his shoulders back, anger still burning in his hazel eyes. “I’ve had lots of experience dealing with the press. And I’ve been a spokesperson for Unpredictable people for years. I know how this all works. I’ll handle it.”
He sounds determined, even a little grim. “Are you upset?”
“Of course I’m upset,” he admits, shaking his head and blowing out a breath as Saint returns in a fresh set of clothes.
Logan drags the four of us off to the side, obviously feeling like this isn’t a conversation to be having in the open.
“I watched Unpredictables get shit on for years,” Nick goes on, his voice lower. “And now that we’ve finally accomplished something, everyone wants to go right back to thinking they’re shit again. And everyone’s immediate response is to panic? There’s no reason for everyone to be behaving like this. People are making our jobs harder, and it’s bullshit.”
Nick holds up his hands, a little of his usual charm breaking through the anger in his expression as he shrugs. “Now, I’m not an IUM agent. I know that. But I like to think of myself as an equal partner to you all. So I want to do my part. And what I’m good at—what you three are not so good at—is charming the public.” He pauses, glancing between Saint and Logan. “Well. You’ll charm them if you just stand there and look pretty.”
Saint glowers at Nick as if to say I’m not pretty, you asshole. Logan looks down at himself, then shrugs as if to admit that the man’s got a point.
“How soon could we get you on the news?” I ask.
“Probably this afternoon.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll make some calls. If you and Logan can draw up some talking points for me, talk with Ben, see about getting this all distilled into something concise, I can have that on hand while I chat with the press.”
“And I’ll just stand here and look pretty?” Saint asks, sarcasm heavy in his tone.
Nick pats his arm. “Exactly.”
Saint doesn’t roll his eyes, but he looks like he very much wants to.
After a few phone calls, Nick gets himself a spot on a primetime news outlet. Apparently, a few people owe him a favor or something like that. He was talking so fast I couldn’t quite catch all the details. Next thing I know, I’m being whisked off to a news studio with him.
Logan insists on staying behind at IUM and refuses to let Saint go.
“I need to be there to protect them,” Saint protests.
“If the people there realize who you are, it’s going to be a nuthouse,” Logan counters. “You’re staying here with me. We’ll go through the reports again and see if there’s something we missed.”
Saint looks like he’d rather go back to Darkstone again than go through paperwork, but he doesn’t protest further.
Nick drives the two of us over to the news studio, and as soon as we arrive, I’m immediately grateful that he’ll be the one giving the interview. This feels like when my teachers would single me out at Griffin and I could feel the resentment of my classmates, only ten times worse. All of the whirling attention, the demands, the “hurry up and wait” feel of it… I hate it.
The billionaire playboy is in his element though. He’s grinning and joking around with people, looking completely relaxed, without a care in the world. You’d think that he was coming onto the news to talk about his latest technological marvel, not about something so serious that it has people dying and panicking.
This is part of Nick’s talent, I realize as I watch him. He’s being so charming to everyone at the station, talking and truly listening to them, and that’s going to get people to listen to him.
I stand off by one of the cameras, out of the way, as the segment starts for the news. The reporter at his desk is friendly and affable. Apparently, this guy has already interviewed Nick a few times during his crusades in support of Unpredictables, and he teases Nick the moment the lights come up and we’re live.
“Back to get into politics, eh, Mr. Fitzpatrick?” the newscaster asks.
“You know it. I just can’t seem to help myself.” Nick winks at the camera, toward the audience at home. “I can’t sit by when I see people getting blamed for things that aren’t their fault. Looks like everyone’s ready to bash on Unpredictables again at the first sign of trouble.”
“I take it you’re talking about this new… some people are calling it a disease?”
“I call it Ichtaka, based on an Aztec name that means ‘secret.’”
As the words come out of his mouth, the urge to drop my face into my hand is strong.
I can’t believe it. Now everyone’s going to be calling it that ridiculous name. Damn it.
The newscaster nods as if he’s impressed by the fancy title, and after that, Nick launches right into his spiel. It’s got all the talking points that Logan and I came up with, and Nick sells it all beautifully. He praises Logan and me, and all of IUM, and manages to make everyone who’s been panicking sound like they’re being ridiculous without directly saying it. I find myself smiling softly at him as he lounges in the guest chair, wearing a fancy suit with his collar op
en and top buttons undone, looking both classy and debauched.
He’s unbearably handsome. I never realized until now that Nick has actually been toning down the charm when he’s around Logan, Saint, and me. I thought that he was being his fully charming self, but I guess he was being more of a straight shooter with us than I gave him credit for.
It fills me with an unexpected bubble of happiness to know that Nick hasn’t been charming and playing us the way that he’s so obviously playing and charming the newscaster, the crew, and the audience.
It means he respects us. He respects me.
Nick finishes up after about twenty minutes, and the newscaster shakes his hand. “I think you’ve done a lot to help calm people down in the wake of all that panic,” the man says.
Nick looks humble, which I didn’t expect. “It’s really not me. It’s the IUM agents I have the privilege of working with. They’re the ones doing the heavy lifting here.”
“I see one of them is here with you now.”
“Ah, yes.” Nick gestures for me to come over and join him.
Swallowing my nerves, I go over. Nick puts his arm around me, grinning broadly. Proudly. “This is agent Raelyn Parker. She’s one of IUM’s best and brightest. It’s been an honor to work with her as the leader of our specialized task force.”
I can feel my face heating up, and I pray that my blush isn’t as visible as it feels.
Nick and the newscaster chat for another minute, and Nick’s arm stays around my waist the entire time—comfortable and easy, like it belongs there. He hasn’t said that we’re together or anything, but I’m pretty sure everyone thinks that we are by the end of the interview. Why else would I spend all this time pressed against his side if we weren’t… something?
When the interview wraps up, Nick schmoozes for another few minutes before leading me out of the studio and back to his car.
“I think that went well,” he says. “I think that’ll really help people stop panicking.”
“That was… impressive,” I admit. “You really know how to talk to people. Convince them.”
