Her whiskers bounced and she sat on her haunches to clean her face.
Ryder pulled the door open to find Christy on the porch with her hands clutched tightly in front of her. She blinked at Ryder and her brows drooped, lips pulled back in a grimace.
“What’re those…?” She glanced at his chest.
Ryder reached for his magic and stitched a glamour across his scars. The curved pink marks faded. “You’ve never seen a hickey?”
Christy huffed an annoyed sigh. “You don’t have to glamour for me, Ry. It was just a question. I know what those are.” She jabbed one of the mouth-shaped bruises on his stomach with her finger.
“It’s a question I’m not answering. Hi, good morning, what’re you doing here?”
“Good afternoon,” she corrected. Her hair was bundled into a thick bun on the back of her head, and an assortment of protective pendants hung around her neck, dangling over a strappy pink top. “Can I come in?”
“Liam’s here.”
“I know,” Christy said pleasantly.
Ryder held the door open and Christy walked inside. She cleared her throat, glancing from one end of the tiny living room to the other.
“Tea?” Ryder asked.
“That’d be nice.” She knelt and held out her hand for Willow to climb into. “How are you today? Are things…better?”
“I’m not going to kill anyone,” Ryder said. He filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “And even if I did, I could bring them back if I tried hard enough.”
Christy’s energy was a thin bubble around her, protective and bright. “Yeah, I guess you could, huh?”
Ryder handed her a cup filled with ginger tea. Their fingers brushed and she winced. An image flashed behind Ryder’s eyes—Liam’s tan torso stretched in front of him, dripping wet, and Ryder’s mouth climbing his stomach.
“That’s not something I ever needed to see,” Christy sang. She stepped back and closed her eyes, gesturing between them with a flick of her wrist. “I’m psychic, you syphon energy, that means—”
“Yeah, I get it. That was an accident.” His cheeks burned hot. He nodded toward the couch. “What’d Thalia say last night?”
Christy heaved a sigh. She sat on the couch but left space between them, her on one end, him on the other. “I didn’t come here to talk about what Thalia said; I came here to apologize to you, and if I get started on something else I won’t be able to stop talking about it, so first off, I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and stared at the couch cushion between them. “This can’t be easy for you, and all your friends just…”
“Freaked out?”
“Yeah,” Christy breathed.
“Not all your friends,” Liam said. He walked out the bedroom and into the kitchen.
“You did a little bit.” Ryder glanced over his shoulder to get a glimpse of Liam wearing his clothes. The faded black band tee Ryder had owned since high school fit a little tight, but looked good on him. “There’s tea if you want some.”
Liam nodded and poured himself a cup. His bare feet padded the wood floors, as familiar as they always were. He rounded the side of the couch and set his hand on Christy’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly.
Another image blinded Ryder. It came and went, like a lightning strike or glass splintering. Ryder stretched across the hood of the car, shirt rucked up and his bare thighs over Liam’s shoulders. The long line of his throat extended, his voice gasped and spent saying don’t stop.
“Jesus fucking Christ—seriously?” Ryder hissed.
“Can you guys stop thinking about each other naked for two seconds!” Christy whined, squeezing her eyes shut.
Liam cocked his head, confused.
“Stop syphoning, Ryder! That’s why this is happening. You’re taking my energy and that’s amplifying whatever images I’m pulling from you two—images that would normally be in the back of my mind where I can’t see them!” Christy sipped her tea. Her face was three different shades of pink. She looked around the apartment instead of at the boys, and chewed on her bottom lip.
“What just happened?” Liam asked. He sat on the ottoman and glanced between Ryder and Christy.
“You gave Christy access to a memory of us having sex,” Ryder said, voice clipped. There was no going around it or making it sound better. He shrugged one shoulder and lifted his brows.
Liam grimaced and his cheeks flared red.
“Yeah, on the car! Do you guys know how many people have had sex on that car? That’s gross—you’re gross,” Christy groaned. She made a mock-disgusted noise and sipped her tea. “Anyway, I was in the middle of saying I’m sorry. Necromancers have a bad reputation, but that doesn’t mean Tyler should’ve said what he did last night.”
“What did Thalia say?” Ryder asked again. His gaze was pinned to the floor, but when he braved a glance up, Liam was looking back at him. His eyes flashed to the floor.
“And what did everyone else say?” Liam added.
“Thalia said we needed to be careful, and that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Christy stared at her lap and pressed her legs tight together. “She also said that you have the potential to be dangerous…”
The room went quiet. Tension battled with anger beneath a thick layer of hurt. Ryder tried to steady his nerves, to rein in the disappointment from showing outright. But it was already there, and Christy was already fumbling over herself to make up for it, and Liam was already getting up from the other side of the coffee table.
“Ryder.” Christy said his name sadly, pitifully. He hated it. “We’ll figure this out. It doesn’t mean that you are dangerous. I don’t think you’d ever hurt us, and I don’t think anyone would ever assume you’d—”
“You should go,” Ryder said. His eyes stung. His throat was scratchy and tight.
“Ry, c’mon.” Liam knelt in front of the couch. “Thalia’s a matriarch, she can’t sugarcoat things.”
Christy placed her hand on Ryder’s arm. He looked at her and she flinched back. “Sorry. No, Ryder, I didn’t…”
“I scare you,” Ryder hissed. He didn’t know if he was crying or not, but his face was hot, everything was hot. His black eyes burned and his mouth quivered. He wanted to hide or run or rip something apart.
“You scare yourself,” Christy whispered, surprised.
Ryder had barely felt the slide of her energy against his thoughts. “Stay out of my head!”
“Christy,” Liam warned. “Maybe you should go.”
“I didn’t mean to… I’m just not used to your eyes, Ryder. It’s…” Christy stood up and took a step back.
“Terrifying, I know,” Ryder bit. Sarcasm filled his mouth along with a cloud of steam.
“I’ll go,” she said gently. “If you need anything, though…”
“I need you to tell me what the others said,” Ryder interrupted.
Christy shifted from foot to foot.
Percy hopped onto Ryder’s lap, bristled and wide-eyed. He rubbed against Ryder’s chest and yowled at him, ears tucked against his skull like they always did when they shared emotions. Ryder inhaled a deep, long breath and stroked Percy’s back, grateful for his familiar and the sudden redirection of his anxiety.