The girl finished scanning the groceries. “I’ll be in the car,” I said, and grabbed a few bags.
“Wait, Mo,” Dad said, but I was already gone, the automatic doors rushing open in front of me.
Outside, in the parking lot, I slid my sunglasses on and sighed against the sudden warmth of the sun. As I made my way to the car, I smelled something heavy in the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Magic.
Dad ran up behind me. “I said to wait. You never listen to me.”
Three motorcycles sat parked in the back of the lot, with three members of the Devils’ League perched atop. Hardy, Flynn, and Boone.
Dad had his sunglasses on—great big aviators with mirrored lenses. But I could tell he was staring at them, and they were staring at him, and something tense and hostile thrummed between them.
“Dad?” I said, my voice sounding young and unsteady as the scent of his magic hit me, mint so strong it burned the inside of my nose.
“Get in the car,” he said, so I hurried to it and climbed inside, locking the door behind me. I didn’t think the Devils’ League would hurt Dad, not now, and especially not out in the open, not in broad daylight. At least, not if they were sober. But the power was so thick and pungent that my head throbbed with it. I pressed my face into my hands and breathed through my mouth.
Dad slid in behind the wheel a second later and started his car up with the push of a button. “You all right?”
“What did they want?” I asked. I could still feel the Devils behind us, like a storm cloud growing on the horizon.
“Tensions are high right now,” Dad answered, echoing what Crowe said last night. “They just wanted me to understand that they know I’m here. A welcome party, if you will.”
“Um. They didn’t look that welcoming.”
“Yeah, well. It’s just a game. I know how to play it, and all I want is for folks to keep to the rules.” Fake casual again. He couldn’t fool me.
“You’re not here just to watch the Devils, though, are you?”
“No, not unless they’re breaking those rules.”
“Dad, of course they are. Everyone knows that.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Some rules are more important than others.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jem, it’s Syndicate business, and I can’t discuss everything with you. Especially not when you’re still obviously in Crowe Medici’s orbit.”
“Believe whatever you want, Dad,” I said, more harshly than was probably necessary. “It’s not like you actually know me or anything about my life, after all.”
His jaw clenched. He put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
I crossed my arms over my chest and said nothing on the drive home. I didn’t want to get between Dad and the Devils anyway. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I should just stick with a guy like Darek who could understand our world but wouldn’t be fully immersed in it.
Maybe I should just walk away from all of it and teach myself not to care.
Or maybe I should grow wings and fly to the moon. Sadly, that would have been easier.
SIX
ALEX FINALLY TEXTED ME AFTER MY TENSE CHICKEN FAJITA lunch with Dad, which had ended with him kissing me on the forehead and promising he’d catch up with me later before taking off in his shiny car. When I saw her name flash across my screen, I was equal parts relieved and terrified to read the message.
I don’t hate u, u loon. Pissed @ Crowe tho. Like to stuff that bird and hang him above the fireplace. R we still heading over to the property together? Have smthing to tell u. Can’t txt it.
The relief that ran through me was nearly palpable.
I’m glad, I replied. I was worried. Stupid rules. Stupid Crowe. Yes lets go together around 4?
Yup I’ll pick you up.
I showered and dressed, and by the time I came out of my bedroom, Alex was having a cup of coffee in the kitchen with my mom. She’d kindly brought me a frozen latte, since I only drank hot coffee in the mornings.
“Is that what you’re wearing to the festival?” Alex asked.
I glanced down at the outfit I’d picked: black leggings, black motorcycle boots, and a loose-fitting gray V-neck tee. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Show some leg!” Alex said. “Maybe some butt cheek. I mean, it’s the Kindled Festival. It will be crawling with hot, powerful guys.”
Mom sent me a meaningful look. She thought I should tell Alex about Darek, but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Admitting that I was friends with the enemy seemed like a risk I didn’t need to take—especially now. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I put Darek in danger.
“I think I’m fine on my own, thank you very much,” I said.
“Yes, but Crowe would be jealous if he found you hooking up with another kindled. He would pretend otherwise, of course. Imagine if you hooked up with Katsuya Kitsamura? Crowe would die.”
Katsuya was a Curse King—the vice president of the club, actually. They were based in Minnesota, and he was not only incredibly hot—he was also packed with the arma magic that ran legendary through his family line. I’d met him last year, and nearly choked on my tongue because of both. He had the same power as Gunnar except a lot more of it, and his pale yellow magic was so thick and reeking of sulfur that I’d almost puked on his boots after shaking his hand. He probably thought I was a freak, but that was okay, since the stench kind of put a damper on the attraction.
I laughed. “I don’t think Katsuya and I are meant to be.”
“Certainly not in that outfit,” Alex said.
“I’m not changing.”
Alex frowned. “Fine. I guess that’ll save Katsuya a few more broken bones.”
Crowe had crushed both of his legs with a curse when the Kings rolled into town a few months ago hoping to take over. He’d sent Katsuya to the hospital and the rest of them packing. There were more than a few people who had an ax to grind with the Devils.
“Are we ready, then?” Alex asked.
I grabbed my bag and my coffee. “Oh, one minute. I forgot something.” I took my stuff and scurried down the hallway, guilt beating inside me. But I needed this—I was about to be in a place seething with magic, and I wasn’t going to make it if I didn’t prep ahead. I closed the door to my room and knelt next to my bed, reaching behind the headboard to pull out a bottle of Jack. I poured a generous measure into my frozen latte and snapped the lid back on the cup. After one or two deep pulls that led to a burn in my throat and major brain freeze, I rushed back down the hall. “Ready!”
Alex’s eyes narrowed briefly, but then she smiled and turned to my mom. “Gina, are you coming later?”
Mom folded herself into a kitchen chair, her paper coffee cup clutched between her hands. “I’ll try, but I might have to pull a double. We’re understaffed.”
Alex planted a kiss on Mom’s cheek. “My mom would love to see you.”
Mom smiled. “I’ll see what I can do. Be good, girls.”
“We always are,” Alex sang, and followed me out the door.
“I doubt she’ll come,” I said once we were outside the house.
Alex pulled a pair of large, round sunglasses on over her eyes. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Mom doesn’t really feel like she fits anymore.”
“Well,” Alex said, “I hope she does come, because she belongs there no matter what anyone thinks.”
Hearing that from her warmed me inside—Alex might have disliked certain people, but she never dissed members of our community just because they didn’t have as much power.
We climbed inside Alex’s Range Rover, and when she pressed the starter button, the air-conditioning burst from the vents like a winter wind.
I turned the AC down as Alex backed out of the driveway. I had planned to press her on the something she had said she wanted to share, but she beat me to the punch and asked, “So what’s with the giant scorch mark on the counter?”
UGGGHHH.
I took a long, slow drink from my spiked latte. “I was playing with matches.”
“Well, that’s one way to set a guy’s loins on fire.”
“Oh my God. You said ‘loins.’”
“Seriously, though. After what Crowe did to us, you let him in your house?”