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Page 22
Page 22
Aaron made an indistinct noise. “I’d describe Tori as passionate and instinctive in her decision-making. She’s stubborn, not self-sabotaging.”
“I’m just worried. Her hitting a customer in a fit of rage has relatively minor consequences in the human world. Something like that in the mythic world …”
“So far, Tori’s handled herself just fine, and we’re usually around to keep an eye on her anyway.”
“But what about when you’re not?” Justin sighed. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but Tori doesn’t have real magic. She has attitude and a few trinkets. That paintball gun is nothing compared to what you and Blake can do.”
“Blake and I are in a different league than most mythics.”
“That’s my point. Should she be playing in your league?”
Pressed against the wall, I waited for Aaron to defend me. To say I could totally handle dangerous situations and powerful magic. To say I belonged on his team, bringing down the big bads.
But he said nothing, silence stretching through the kitchen.
My fingernails cut into my palms. I pushed off the wall and swept across the room, grabbing my purse and jacket off the coffee table on my way by. As my hand slapped against the patio door, Justin’s words echoed in my head … reckless with her safety … impulsive decision-making …
Reckless and impulsive—like storming out in a snit of hurt feelings without telling anyone where I was going?
Gritting my teeth, I called over my shoulder, “I’m going to the coffee shop on the corner to get some donuts. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Huh?” Aaron appeared in the kitchen doorway, Justin right behind him. “Tori—”
“Be back in a few!” I added loudly, shoving the door open. “I have my phone.”
I shut the door, Aaron and Justin visible through the glass, standing in the kitchen threshold with confused expressions. Cold air nipped at my arms as I crossed the damp grass, wrestling my jacket on without dropping my purse. I stepped onto the sidewalk.
A car door slammed nearby. Blake had just exited his jeep, parked behind Aaron’s SUV.
He glanced my way. “Oh, hey Tori.”
I waved wordlessly and hurried my pace, leaving him behind. Turning my jacket collar up against the breeze, I marched down the sidewalk with long, furious strides, but it was too late for anger.
Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back.
She’s been like that for a long time.
Tori doesn’t have real magic.
Should she be playing in your league?
The words circled, stabbing me with each pass, and I couldn’t convince myself they weren’t true.
They were. Every goddamn word.
I’d always had a problem with my temper. Reckless behavior. Fits of anger. Lashing out. An attitude problem.
And I’d always pretended to be tougher than I really was. Entering the mythic world hadn’t changed that. Who else would charge into a full-fledged mythic battle with nothing but an umbrella as a weapon?
Yeah, I’d gotten a lot tougher. I could handle the average mythic just fine—but those weren’t the fights I was picking anymore. Look at me right now, investigating a mythic cult that may or may not include demon mages with nothing but my “attitude and a few trinkets.”
I jammed my hands in my pockets and kept going. My surroundings were a complete blur, and surprise flickered when I found myself standing at an intersection, traffic zooming past. The crosswalk button clacked when I jabbed it with my elbow, and I dried my face as I waited for the light to change.
The traffic halted. Sniffling pathetically, I crossed to the opposite sidewalk, cut through a line of cars in the drive-through, and entered the coffee shop. Sleepy-eyed customers craving their pre-work caffeine fix formed a line in front of the counter.
I stopped to assess the donut options, then got in line. Justin’s words kept jabbing me. I couldn’t even blame Aaron for his silence at the end. What had he been supposed to say? “Tori and her paintball gun are just as effective in battle as infernos and heart-stopping bolts of electricity.”
Yeah, sure. Maybe when I’d had my Queen of Spades, fall spell, and force-amplifying brass knuckles. But now? Not even close.
Even though he hadn’t spoken in my defense, he’d said some other stuff. She’s got a real knack for it … I’d describe Tori as passionate and instinctive in her decision-making … Tori’s handled herself just fine.
Dashing away a rogue tear, I smiled weakly. So maybe I couldn’t burn a building down—well, yes, I could, but I’d need to prepare for grand arson, unlike a certain pyromage—but Aaron still thought I was doing well for a human with some magic trinkets. He had my back, and I shouldn’t be angry with him. He was a good friend.
I tapped a finger against my lips. Like Justin had said, Aaron was the one who’d pulled me into the mythic world. Aaron was also the one who’d gotten Ezra off the streets. And Aaron had supported Kai when he’d split with his crime family at seventeen.
Holy shit. Aaron had saved all of us.
As I marveled at that epiphany, the line shuffled again and I turned my attention to the donut display. Was it too early in the morning for chocolate drizzle?
What was I thinking? It was never too early for chocolate.
My mouth watered as the line shortened again. Shifting forward eagerly, I dug into my purse for my wallet. I should probably get two dozen donuts. One dozen wouldn’t leave me any leftovers, not with two—possibly three—men devouring them.
My hand stilled, and I frowned at my wallet. The guy in front of me advanced to the counter, ordered, and stepped aside. The cashier gestured for me to approach.
“Next!” she called in annoyance when I just stood there.
I moved, my feet slapping the floor. Cold air blasted my face as I exited the coffee shop, and I blinked in confusion. My hands were empty of donuts.
My feet thumped along the sidewalk, moving with purpose. Trees and streetlamps and houses and apartment buildings passed me. My gaze was fixed straight ahead. It jarred across Blake’s jeep, Aaron’s SUV, and Justin’s truck, then locked on the patio door of our rented apartment.
The door slid open, grating in its track. Blake and Aaron were bent over the terramage’s phone, deep in discussion, while Justin sat in the armchair, perched tensely on the leather seat. They all looked over as I walked in.
“You’re back!” Aaron frowned at my empty hands. “Was the coffee shop out of donuts?”
I looked around, then knelt beside the duffle bag sitting against the wall. My hands dug into it and pulled out a dark shirt folded into a bundle.
“Tori,” Justin protested. “Do you mind?”
Aaron canted his head at the bag. “What are you doing, Tori?”
I wiggled my fingers into the fabric and closed them around a cold metal grip. The shirt fell away.
The three men went unnaturally still when I rose to my feet with the gun in my hand.
“Tori?” Aaron whispered.
I took two careful steps, turned, and raised my arm—aiming the barrel at my brother’s face, two feet away. His wide eyes stared at me. Shock. Disbelief. Fear.
My finger curled over a narrow metal tongue inside the trigger guard.
“Tori!” Aaron roared, lunging toward me with his hand outstretched.
I pulled the trigger.
Chapter Fifteen
The trigger depressed under my finger, the gun clicked, and Aaron slammed into me.
A second body hit me a moment later, and I was crushed between them. The gun was yanked from my hand, my arms were wrenched back, and Blake locked me in a hold that had my spine arching against his broad chest.
Aaron held the gun by its barrel, breathing hard as he stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head.
I blinked slowly. My gaze moved from the pyromage and the gun he held, then to my brother’s face, frozen in disbelief. My hand … holding that icy metal grip. My finger … pulling the stiff trigger. The memory was fresh and bright in my mind.
I—had—pulled—the—trigger.
Panic exploded through me and I screamed.
Aaron and Blake jolted at my piercing cry, and Justin leaped up from his chair.
“I didn’t do that!” My panicked shriek raked my throat. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—no, no—I would never—”
I struggled against Blake’s hold, denials spilling from my lips as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“I didn’t—I didn’t—I didn’t—”
But the gun had been in my hand. I’d pulled the trigger.
As I devolved into a wordless wail, Aaron set the gun on the end table beside the sofa, then pulled me from Blake’s hold and pushed me at Justin. My brother caught me with a startled grunt.
“Calm her down,” Aaron ordered. “Blake, let’s go.”
The terramage nodded sharply.
“Go?” Justin clamped an arm around me as the two mages strode for the patio door. “Where?”
“To find the mythic who messed with Tori,” Aaron called over his shoulder, eyes blazing. “Wait here.”
They disappeared outside, and I didn’t move, standing rigidly in Justin’s hold.
“To find … what?” I whispered.
“Someone messed with you? What does he mean?”
“I don’t know.” My whole body shuddered nonstop, and I couldn’t shake the image of the gun in my hand, aimed at my brother’s shocked face. I had done that. Whatever Aaron thought had happened, no one had put that gun in my hand.
Justin wrapped his arms around me. How could he hug me after what I’d tried to do?
Minutes dragged by, then the patio door banged. Aaron strode inside, fury on his face and Blake right behind him. I cringed into Justin as the pyromage strode up to me. He drew me away from my brother, turned me, and pushed me down on the sofa.
“Tori,” he said quietly, kneeling in front of me, “what happened while you were gone?”