Maggie walked over to the couch and sat on my other side. “Hanging in there, Styles?”
I dropped my head in my hands. “This is never going to work. He’s going to get hurt. How can I let him do this?”
“How can you not?”
I sat up, looking at Maggie. “What? You agree with him?” My heart started racing again, and heat flooded through me.
“Hold on, now, Styles.” Maggie held up her hand. “No need to go all Dark Phoenix on me. All I’m saying is that Gareth has spent his entire life keeping you safe. Don’t you think you owe him a little bit of faith?”
The words were like a punch to the gut. “I guess I do owe him that.”
Maggie wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. “It’s gonna be okay.”
I sighed. “I hope so . . . but a big part of this plan is contingent on me not drawing attention with my magic. How can I avoid something I have no control over?”
Maggie didn’t have an answer this time. We sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Ty offered to take us home.
We walked down the hall and, after saying good-bye to Serena, headed toward Ty’s car. Maggie quickly crawled into the backseat, leaving me alone with Ty outside the car.
“Can I ask you if you’re okay now?” He grinned.
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess so, but I honestly don’t know how to answer.” I leaned against the car and looked up at the sky. It was dotted with hundreds of stars, twinkling against the velvet backdrop next to the half-moon shining brightly. It looked so calm and peaceful—the exact opposite of how I felt.
“You can do it, you know.” Ty’s words were soft but clear.
“Do what?”
“Control it.” He seemed to be reading my mind again.
“Can I, though?”
“Yes, you can. You just have to believe it.”
I took a deep breath. “I just . . . I mean . . . they should’ve told me years ago. My powers are the reason we’re in this mess, and if I’d known, I could’ve trained or at least learned how it all works. I wouldn’t be sending my uncle on a death mission just to buy me some time.”
I frowned. “Now that I know the truth, I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“So don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ride out this plan, but start preparing yourself. Serena said you need training. So, find someone who can train you in magic. Learn not only how to control it, but how to use it.”
Ty stepped closer and gripped my hand. “You’ll need it if you ever come face-to-face with the Master.”
The words sent a chill down my spine. I tried to laugh it off. “Isn’t that what Praetorians are for?”
Ty’s eyes flashed. “Don’t do that. Don’t diminish who and what you are. You’re stronger than you think. You’re a DuCarmont witch. Don’t forget that.”
The strength of those words filled me, the truth in them ringing true in my heart.
I nodded. “I won’t.”
Ty took a step back, breathing deeply. “Good.” Then he stood up straight and crossed his right arm across his chest. “The protection of my hands, my blade, and my life . . . is yours, Lainey Styles. You’re my Calling, and whatever you may face, I will be at your side.”
The words, so formal and irrevocable, struck a chord within me. My whole soul vibrated as an image of Lancelot taking the oath at King Arthur’s table flashed in my mind.
Ty’s eyes burned with intensity, and there wasn’t any doubt that he meant every word of his pledge. Any notions of protesting quickly dissipated. I stayed silent, choosing my words. “Thank you,” I said, finally. “Truly.”
There was a moment when something passed between us, something ancient and binding, and I accepted it, the knowledge that our fates were now entwined. The Praetorian and his Calling.
“Come on, you guys. I’m aging here!” Maggie called from the backseat, breaking the mood. I rolled my eyes.
“I guess we better go,” I said. “I need to talk to Gareth before he leaves and somehow figure out how to keep from completely losing my mind while he’s gone.”
Ty thought for a moment. “A distraction, perhaps? You could go with me to that Halloween thing that I keep seeing signs about at school.”
“Oh, the carnival.” The tips of my ears blazed. “You mean like a date?”
Ty chuckled. “Well, we don’t have to call it that if you don’t want to, but yeah.”
“No,” I said, a little too quickly. “No, a date sounds great. I’d really like that.” I smiled, hoping the blush burning my skin wasn’t visible in the darkness.
Ty opened the passenger side door for me, and I slid into the seat. Maggie was sitting in the backseat grinning from ear to ear, clearly having overheard the exchange outside.
“Just remember,” she said with a laugh after Ty had climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, “you’re Wolverine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Do you really have to go?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last either.
Gareth looked up from the pile of clothing and supplies he was arranging. “I thought we covered this already.”
“We did,” I said. “But I’m hoping if I keep asking you, the answer might change.”
Gareth sighed, came over, and sat next to me on the bed. “Look, I know you think this is a bad idea, but everything’s going to be fine. The plan will work.”
I rolled my eyes. “You have no way of knowing that.” I balled my hands into fists. “This whole thing could end badly.”
He offered a small smile, but his eyes narrowed in what looked like sadness. “No,” he said. “You’re just new to this, that’s all. Lainey, Serena and I have been hiding from the Master our whole lives. Every day that we wake up breathing, our death is a possibility.”
His words were like ice water, dousing the anger and frustration burning inside me. I swallowed. “You must think I’m pretty selfish,” I said. “All I can see is how this affects me, when in reality there’s a much bigger picture here.” I looked down and unclenched my hands. “This is what it’s like for all Supernaturals, isn’t it?”
Gareth nodded. “I’m afraid so. The Master has Scavengers all over the country watching us. Small uses of magic are typically allowed—Serena’s visions, for example. That type of power rarely entices a Scavenger, but if a Supernatural is doing something that could be seen as a threat to the Master’s power, the Scavengers report it to the Master, and the Guard moves in.”
“Just like that? Don’t the Supernaturals try to fight back?”
“Some do,” Gareth replied, “but it’s rare. The Scavengers have one motivation: money. They care about nothing except the cash they make when they deliver someone of value to the Master. If a Supernatural tries to fight back, the Scavengers just call the Guard and wash their hands of the whole thing. Plus, as long as they’re valuable to the Master, they’re safe from his wrath.”