“What happened to you back there?” she asked.
He’d hoped she’d forgotten, or passed it off as stress. Of course she wouldn’t—she already knew to keep an eye on him for...irregularities.
He opened his mouth, not sure if he would tell the truth or make something up, but the door opened behind him and Jarrett and Christal entered, saving him from having to answer.
Christal strode into the center of the room like it was her own and looked them over, weighing them, judging them. Jarrett stayed in the corner. Tenn knew he should be focusing on Christal, but his eyes kept looking back to Jarrett. Cataloging the way the man stood. The scars and planes of his face that hid the boy he’d known as Kevin. The slight gray in his pale blond hair, from magic or stress, Tenn couldn’t tell. Somehow, though, the years of fighting didn’t seem to weigh on Jarrett the same way they did on Tenn—Jarrett stood tall, light. Something about him defied the darkness of the Resurrection. Something about him made Tenn feel like things could be okay.
Until Christal started speaking. Then his heart fell from his throat to his feet.
“Let me get to the point. In light of recent developments, I’m afraid I must send you back out into the field.” Her gaze narrowed on the twins. “I hear you know how to find the Witches.”
The silence that answered was deafening. Fire flickered in Sebastian’s chest, just for a moment, but that was enough to make Tenn take a half step back. The guy seemed like a ticking time bomb. He could practically hear Sebastian’s teeth grinding.
“How did...?” Stephanie started with obvious surprise. Then she looked at Jarrett, and her mask slipped back into place. But colder. “You swore you would say nothing.”
Jarrett looked down to the floor. “These are dark days, Stephanie. I had no choice.”
The glare Stephanie cast between Jarrett and Christal could level mountains.
“Our ties to the clans have been severed,” Stephanie said, her voice flat and an octave lower than normal. “We cannot help you.”
“I am not asking for your help,” Christal replied. She stepped forward. Even with her hands in her pockets, she spoke like she was brandishing a weapon. “I am telling you. If you know how to find the clans, if you have even the slightest inkling of an idea, you are bound by duty to do so.”
Stephanie pushed herself from the wall. Air flickered in her throat, and her hair billowed in the sudden breeze. Sebastian wasn’t able to hold back his agitation anymore; sparks flared around his fingertips where they clenched the chair, sending the scent of burning wood through the room. Tenn’s skin went cold. He didn’t want to see what would happen if the twins tried to mutiny. He doubted he’d get out alive. Even Jarrett stared at them with a hint of fear.
“You know of our agreement,” Stephanie said, her voice still taut. “We are not bound by the laws of your guild. We are not governed by your commands. We fight those battles which we deem necessary. And this is not our battle. You know not what you ask.”
“Are you so naive?” Christal demanded. The two were barely inches apart. In her high-heeled boots, Christal towered over Stephanie by a good foot, but Stephanie was far from cowering. Hell, Tenn expected her to hover. Christal opened to Earth, and somehow, just being open to the Sphere gave her a presence, a solidity, that said she would not be toppled. “Do you truly believe this battle ends with you? If you fail to aid us, how many lives do you think we’ll lose? I’m not speaking dozens or hundreds or even thousands. Millions will die, Stephanie. Because we. Are. Losing. And you...you will be responsible for those deaths. Are you really comfortable with more innocent blood on your hands?”
Stephanie gasped. Air winked out, and she took a step back, her eyes darting between Jarrett and Christal with a look that tore at Tenn’s heart. Betrayal. Pure and utter betrayal. She looked like a little girl who’d just been told Santa wasn’t real.
“We cannot,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. Her voice was soft, tinged with hurt. “Our ties are severed. There is no way—”
“We’ll do it.”
The room silenced in an instant, all tension gone like a snapped violin string. As one, they turned to Sebastian, who was studiously looking everywhere but into the eyes of those he’d spoken to.
“What?” Stephanie asked. More hurt in her voice, with another layer of betrayal.
“I said we’ll do it,” he said. His voice was muffled and husky through his burgundy scarf. Fire still flickered in his chest, sending waves of heat that made sweat break out on Tenn’s otherwise-freezing skin. Sebastian looked at Stephanie and they stared at each other for a long moment. Stephanie seemed to wilt further under her brother’s stare. Finally, she sighed and nodded, settling back against the wall and hiding her face behind her silvery hair.
“We know how to find them,” Sebastian continued. He didn’t stand up, despite the resolve in his voice. If anything, he seemed to sink lower in his chair. “But whether or not they’ll help us, I can’t say.” Then, almost to himself, he muttered, “They have every reason not to.”
“That’s more like it,” Christal said. She nodded, and Earth faded out. Her expression wasn’t smug, but it was close. Tenn could tell from that one look that she wasn’t the type who was ever denied anything. “You’ll leave tonight. I don’t want anyone to know it’s you leaving. Jarrett tells me there’s reason to believe you might be targeted.
“What happened to you back there?” she asked.
He’d hoped she’d forgotten, or passed it off as stress. Of course she wouldn’t—she already knew to keep an eye on him for...irregularities.
He opened his mouth, not sure if he would tell the truth or make something up, but the door opened behind him and Jarrett and Christal entered, saving him from having to answer.
Christal strode into the center of the room like it was her own and looked them over, weighing them, judging them. Jarrett stayed in the corner. Tenn knew he should be focusing on Christal, but his eyes kept looking back to Jarrett. Cataloging the way the man stood. The scars and planes of his face that hid the boy he’d known as Kevin. The slight gray in his pale blond hair, from magic or stress, Tenn couldn’t tell. Somehow, though, the years of fighting didn’t seem to weigh on Jarrett the same way they did on Tenn—Jarrett stood tall, light. Something about him defied the darkness of the Resurrection. Something about him made Tenn feel like things could be okay.