Storm and Fury(28)

Thick lashes lifted. “Are you safe here?”

I opened my mouth, but closed it, because I had no idea how to answer that and for some reason I...I didn’t want to lie to him.

And that was dumb, because I’d been lying to him in many ways since I’d first spoken to him.

A muscle feathered along his jaw. “If you’re not safe here, we can take you with us when we leave. Help you in any way you need.”

Shock rendered me silent as a swelling motion rose in my chest like a balloon about to float to the ceiling. “That...that is sweet of you to offer.”

“I’m not being sweet,” he replied, his gaze holding mine. “I’m serious. If you’re not safe here, we can take you someplace where you will be.”

Looking away, I focused on my bedspread, finding it hard to not be completely honest with him while meeting his gaze. “I’m all right here, but thank you.”

He fell silent for so long that I had to look at him again. He was watching me. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

He gripped the arms of the chair and rose with the kind of inherent grace all Wardens possessed. “I should go now.”

I didn’t say anything, because I wanted him to stay.

As if he could somehow read my mind, Zayne stopped, and I don’t even know why, but my breath caught, and I was waiting again.

“What were you doing outside tonight?” I blurted out.

Zayne’s brows snapped together. “You know, it was the strangest damn thing. I’d been feeling keyed up all evening. Restless, even though I was with Dez and Nicolai, and this...this is going to sound bizarre, but I just had this sudden...urge to get some fresh air.” He coughed out a laugh. “Good timing, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Perfect timing.”





12


“I have a job for you,” I said to Peanut.

Seconds after Zayne left, the ghost had drifted through the bedroom wall. Of course he didn’t knock, but I was too tired to have that conversation with him.

“I’m down for whatever. You know why? ‘Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.’”

I blinked slowly. “What?”

Peanut’s transparent expression fell. “Ferris? Ferris Bueller?”

“Yeah. Okay. Anyway, can you pay attention to Matthew and Thierry? See if you can hear anything they’re talking about?”

“Like what?”

Good question, because I wasn’t exactly sure, either. “Like, if they are talking about our guests or...or about what happened to me. I don’t know. Just anything weird.”

Peanut nodded. “I can do that. I can do that all night long. Actually, I can do that right now. They were just downstairs whispering between themselves and the other guy. Nicolai.”

“Okay. Yes. Now would be a good time to spy for me.”

“Awesome!” He gave two thumbs-up and then simply evaporated.

My head fell back on the pillow. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep, but it was like whatever burst of energy I’d experienced when Zayne had entered the room had left with him.

Which was notably odd.

I ended up passing out pretty quickly.

I’d slept for what felt like an eternity, waking up a little after ten in the morning. The first thing I wanted to do was find Misha, but I took a shower first, towel dried my hair and combed out all the knots. My arm was a little sore, but the redness had already started to go down. Like Wardens, I healed pretty quickly. By tomorrow the stitches would probably dissolve, and by the weekend the scars would be a faint pink.

After pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a T-shirt, I toed on a pair of flip-flops and left to find Misha. I didn’t have to look far. He answered when I knocked on his door.

“Hey,” I said, entering and then closing the door behind me.

His room was dimly lit, curtains drawn and only a small lamp on by the bed. He was sitting at his desk, closing his laptop. “Hey.” He didn’t turn to face me.

I stopped just inside of his room, suddenly...feeling weirded out. I glanced around. His bed was so neatly made that I knew he hadn’t slept in it, because it was always a mess. I waited for him to turn around, and when he didn’t, trepidation formed in the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth, closed it and then tried again. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” came the gruff, short reply.

I clasped my hands together. “Then why are you sitting with your back to me?”

Misha finally turned the chair around. He didn’t say anything, and it was too dimly lit for me to make out his expression.

My stomach dropped. “Are you... Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you, Trin?”

I wasn’t sure. “Because of last night? I told you I was staying in—”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Really?”

“Really. I wish you would’ve stayed in like you said, or texted me that you wanted to come out, but you didn’t do this to yourself.”

Feeling a little relieved, I inched closer. “Then why...” I trailed off, unsure of how to ask what I wanted to know.

“Why what?”

I drew in a deep breath. I never held back with Misha before. “Why didn’t you come see me last night?”

“I wanted to, but after getting my ass chewed out by Thierry, I didn’t think I’d be good company.”

I guessed that made sense, but still. “I’m sorry you got in trouble. I told Thierry it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but Thierry was still right. I should’ve stayed in,” he said, letting his head fall back. “And don’t argue with me about it. You’re not going to change the way I feel.”

“Misha—”

“Look, my job is to make sure you’re safe. I failed last night.”

I crossed my arms as I bit down on my lip to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t hold it in. “You know, I didn’t need you last night.”

Misha’s head straightened.

“I took care of myself. I saved myself.”

“You used your grace, Trin. That’s how you took care of yourself.”

Irritation pricked at my skin. “I know I shouldn’t have used it, but I did, and it was fine. And if I’d used it last time—”

“You still wouldn’t have saved your mom, Trin.” His voice was quiet. “Even if you used your grace, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Don’t put that on yourself.”

I pressed my lips together. The guilt surrounding my mother’s death was...beyond complicated, but Misha was wrong. Her death was my fault for multiple reasons.

He leaned forward in the chair. “So, you’re saying you don’t need me anymore?”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.” I walked to his bed and plopped down on the edge. “We’re a team, but there’s no reason for you sit in your room pouting because someone else tried to hurt me.”

Misha stiffened.

“And there was also no reason for Thierry to chew your ass out, either. Instead of him yelling at you and you pouting, we should be figuring out who tried to kill me last night.”

Looking away, he dragged a hand over his head, and a long moment passed. “You’re right.”

“Damn straight I am.”

He snorted. “It’s just...” He leaned back in the chair. “It doesn’t matter. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt, knowing he’d be able to see it. “See? Not a big deal.”

He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “That’s going to scar.”

Letting go of my sleeve, I lifted the other shoulder.

“It was Clay,” he said.

My breath caught. “For real?”

“I talked to Thierry this morning. Everyone is accounted for except him,” he said. “And Thierry doesn’t think he left the community.”

I didn’t know what to say. “How can they be sure he didn’t leave? He could’ve just flown right over the walls.”

“Yeah, he could’ve, but we have cameras. The footage has been looked at and, so far, they haven’t seen anyone jump ship.”

Unsettled, I stared down at my hands. “You think... You think he came after me because he got into trouble with Thierry?”

“Yes.”

I gave a little shake of my head. “What an idiot.”

“No truer words have been spoken,” Misha said.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t guilt. I had defended myself. If I hadn’t fought back and killed Clay, I could’ve died, and that meant Misha would have, too. But I felt strange.

It wasn’t the first time I’d killed.

And it probably wouldn’t be the last.

I lifted my head. “I honestly didn’t think it was him. I mean, it made sense, but... How long has Clay been here? Since he was a kid, right?”

Misha frowned. “Right.”

“So, he would’ve known Ryker.”

“Yeah, of course, but that doesn’t mean he shared Ryker’s...beliefs.”

I wasn’t sure. Misha was right. It made sense. Clay was pissed, and he’d said things to me that could be taken as a threat, but something about it didn’t seem right.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Misha tipped his head back. “I didn’t feel anything last night. Nothing when you were hurt, and I think I should have.”