“You come rolling in here like a psycho, and I’m the idiot. Okay.”
“If you didn’t text me, what are you doing here?”
“Having dinner.”
Michael pulled a whole peanut out of a bucket on the table and crushed it between his fingers. He didn’t want to eat it, but he needed something destructive to do with his hands. He glanced around again, ready for someone to jump out of the shadows and yell Boo! “Sure. Here. This is your scene.”
“I don’t know if it’s my scene, but my family owns this place, so it’s free.” He paused. “What are you doing here?”
“Your family owns this place?”
“My grandparents did, actually. My folks inherited when they died. Want me to draw you a family tree?”
“No, I’m good.”
But he wasn’t good. This didn’t make sense. Did . . . whoever-it-was know that this was Tyler’s family’s restaurant? Did it matter?
You’ll know me when you see me.
Another glance around. The only person he recognized was Tyler.
But really, this whole thing—none of it felt like Tyler, just like none of it felt like Calla. Tyler had brutalized Michael’s family for years, wanting the Merricks put to death because they were full Elementals. Then Tyler had accidentally revealed his carefully kept secret to Nick: Tyler was a full Elemental himself—a powerful Fire Elemental who had just as much reason to fear the Guides coming to town as the Merricks did.
They weren’t friends now, not by a long shot. But Tyler hadn’t bothered them in weeks. And no one knew Tyler was a Fire Elemental.
Michael took a long breath and let it out. “Our house was set on fire last night.” He hesitated, keeping his voice low. “My whole street.”
Tyler frowned, then went still. He leaned in against the table. “I heard about that on the news. I didn’t know it was your neighborhood.” He paused, and his voice sharpened. “And you thought I would do that?”
“No—I don’t—” Michael shook his head. The adrenaline was fading, letting exhaustion settle in again. “I have no idea who did it.”
“No wonder you look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
Tammy reappeared beside their table and unloaded two frosted bottles of Natty Boh, and then a platter of nachos. Tyler thanked her, and Michael smashed another peanut.
“Hungry?” said Tyler.
He hadn’t eaten all day, but he couldn’t think of putting food in his mouth right now. “No.”
Tyler shrugged and took a chip. “You still haven’t said what you’re doing here.”
“I got a text this morning that I should meet someone here about the fires.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know who. I thought it was you.”
“Show me.”
Michael hesitated—then unlocked his phone, clicked on the texts, and handed it over. It felt weird to trust Tyler with something he hadn’t shared with his brothers, but this felt safer, too. His brothers had a big stake in this game. Tyler didn’t.
Tyler scrolled. For a while.
Michael fidgeted. It was seven-fifteen now, and no one had come through the door.
“This guy said you could bring your brothers.” Tyler handed back the phone, and Michael slid it into his pocket. “And the police.”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t think maybe that was important?”
“I’m not leading my brothers into a trap.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
The question hit Michael hard. His brothers had no idea—but admitting it out loud seemed dangerous. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”
Tyler picked up another chip. “Jesus, Merrick. Maybe you could tone down the paranoia. Why didn’t you bring the cops, then?”
“The cops think I’m involved in whatever happened to my neighborhood.”
“So you’re holding on to proof that you’re not?”
“A bunch of pictures from a random phone number? That’s not proof of anything. Hell, it’s proof that I am involved. It’s proof that more people are in danger.”
Some of the aggression leaked out of Tyler’s expression. “The blonde in those pictures. Your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “Her father is the county fire marshal.” Tyler gave a low whistle. “So where is this guy you’re supposed to meet?” He looked around. “You’ll know him when you see him? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know.” Michael sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel like I should be able to figure this out.” He looked around again. The more time that went by, the more he felt certain this was an effort to separate him from his brothers. He twisted his hands together and fished his phone out of his pocket to send a text to Gabriel.
All OK?
His heart beat double time as he waited for a response, but he didn’t have to wait long.
Yeah. What’s up?
Nothing, just checking. Waiting for other guy to get here.
Michael blew air through his teeth and set down his phone again. “Why here? Why now? And why is he late?”
“Text him and ask.”
Michael felt like an idiot for not thinking of it himself. He typed out a quick message.