Michael glared back at him. “I’m not apologizing for this. I’m not putting all of you in danger.”
“Too late! You don’t even know where your brothers are, and they have no idea someone could be after them! You didn’t even warn them!”
“I know that! You don’t think I know that?”
“Hey.” Adam got between them, his hands up. “Fighting isn’t going to solve anything.”
Michael didn’t realize he’d swung his legs onto the floor, or that Hunter was on his feet, ready to get into it.
He knew better than this. Michael sat back. “You’re a kid, Hunter. Like it or not, you are. All of you are. I’m not putting you in harm’s way if I can help it.”
“I’m not helpless,” said Hunter, his voice full of acid. “Your brothers aren’t either.”
“I know you’re not—”
“And you’re obviously not doing the greatest job keeping everyone safe, are you?”
Michael flinched.
“Stop,” said Adam. “Both of you. Stop.”
But Hunter’s words lingered in Michael’s head, an arrow of guilt when he least expected it.
Hunter was right. He hadn’t kept them safe. That’s why he’d lost them.
“This isn’t just about you,” Hunter snapped.
“I know that!”
“Fix it,” said Hunter. “Right now. Fix it. Tell us what really happened.”
Michael froze, not wanting to give in. But keeping everything a secret hadn’t kept anyone safe—and in fact, he’d ended up putting more people in danger. With a sigh, he explained everything he knew, from the text messages he’d received while he was sitting on Adam’s porch to the fact that whoever was attacking them had hidden in a tree. He tried to recount the text messages as well as he could, but his phone was still evidence, and he doubted he’d be getting it back anytime soon.
When he was done talking, Hunter still looked pissed—and Adam looked thoughtful.
“How’d he get your number?” said Hunter.
“I have no idea. It’s not like it’s private. I have business cards, a website. . . . He could have gotten it from anywhere.”
“How do you know it’s a he at all?” said Adam.
They booth looked at him, and he shrugged. “Nick said a sixteen-year-old girl was responsible for the last round of arson, right? Could she be responsible now?”
“Yes,” said Michael. “But Calla has fallen off the map again. I tried reaching out to her, but her phone has been disconnected.”
“Was it really a bomb?” said Hunter. “Not a gas line or something?”
“The fire marshal said they’d found fragments,” said Michael. “I don’t have details, but they seem convinced.”
Hunter shrugged. “A bomb would mean some kind of sophistication. I’m not saying a teenager couldn’t have done it, but for the level of damage they showed on the news, especially if it were on some kind of timer or remote control . . ”
“I agree,” said Michael. “And I think I saw the person who shot me.”
Adam’s eyebrows went up. “Did you tell the police? Maybe they could hook you up with a sketch artist or something.”
“No. It was too fast. I might have seen the side of his face.” Michael closed his eyes and tried to remember, but nothing was clear. It was as bad as when he’d been questioned by the fire marshal. No details. “I haven’t seen him before.”
“But he had a bomb,” said Hunter. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “And he had a gun, too. A Guide? Any pentagrams?”
“None,” said Michael. “At least none that I’ve seen yet.” He paused. “Your father was a Guide. Would he have set a bomb to trap an Elemental?”
Hunter thought it over. “According to my mother, he wasn’t in the business of trapping Elementals at all. He was more hands-on, anyway. A bomb wouldn’t have been his style. He used to tell me that guns made killing too impersonal, but they were a necessary evil. He said that even from a distance, a death should mean something. I can’t imagine him setting a bomb and walking away.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulders, thinking about it. “That said, he would have known where to find someone who could do it. He and my uncle were in the Marines together. Special forces. They had contacts—and that’s not uncommon among Fifths. Just because my dad wouldn’t have done it doesn’t mean there’s not someone out there who would. If I pull a trigger, I know where the bullet is going to end up—but not everyone is the same way. Some people don’t care about collateral damage. My dad used to talk about Elementals who could use their power to enhance a weapon, making them more dangerous. An Air Elemental could guide a missile, or spread an airborne agent, right? A Guide could use his power the same way. There’s a reason the Guides say the ends justify the means.”
Adam was staring at him, his eyes a little wide.
“What?” said Hunter.
“Nothing.”
Hunter gave him half a smile. “Gonna sleep with one eye open tonight?”
“Maybe both.”