Page 8 of Riot of Autumn

I sink down into the chair, dragging a hand over my closely cropped hair. “We should talk about bonding. About the magic.”

Ruby’s brows pull together, her forehead wrinkling. “Are you joining the bonding bandwagon? You want to be part of the Axis now?”

I ignore her question for now, because I don’t have an answer for her. We grew up knowing our parents were involved in an Axis and, up until recently, believed that it fucked them up. We all bear the damage of our childhoods as a result. Those fears don’t just disappear overnight. So far, it appears as though the bond hasn’t negatively impacted our friends, but what if Ruby and I are the final nail in the coffin? What if we bond and that sends everyone off the deep end? Our resources for details aren’t exactly the most reliable. Old books and Zara’s limited knowledge of what she saw when she lived in Fairy. I need more information before I make any decisions.

I sit on the coffee table in front of her. Ruby’s eyes flicker down to my knee where it touches hers and then back up again. She sucks in a breath, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip, making it hard to focus. I clasp my hands together to keep them to myself.

“Regardless of whether we bond, I don’t think we can stop our magic from growing stronger. I…I feel mine getting more powerful.”

Ruby huffs, shaking her head. Her leg is jiggling back and forth with excess energy. “So, we do exactly what those Fae assholes want? Maybe we should focus on finding out what it is they want with us and why they’re here before we roll over to do their bidding.”

“Okay.”

Ruby angles her head and crosses her arms. “Just like that? You’re not going to fight me?”

“I don’t always fight you.” My fingers are itching to reach out and touch her knee. To pull her into my lap and settle her nerves.

Ruby snorts. “Since when?”

“First of all, pot, meet kettle. Secondly, on this, we’re a united front. The others don’t get to bully us into doing something we’re not ready to do.” I lean back before I lose the battle with my instinct to grab her.

“What if not bonding is a mistake?” Ruby’s mouth flattens into a tight line.

“Really, are you trying to find something to argue about? You just said you didn’t want to bond.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “No, it’s more like I don’t want to be the one making the decision. What if it’s the wrong one? I don’t want that kind of pressure.”

Ruby pretends she’s joking, but I see straight through her. She’s not. This is who she is. Ruby doesn’t like to take the lead or put herself out there for others to see the truth of her. In this case, I honestly feel the same because none of us knows what the right answer is.

I stand up, needing to put more space between us. I might not know if bonding is the right thing to do, but it’s damn tempting. “There’s no deadline for us to decide. We don’t know that this Duke is going to be a problem. More importantly, we have no idea what the fallout is from last night. Maybe a big brawl is a standard Saturday night for the Fae.”

Ruby looks up at me, her green eyes skeptical. She’s not buying my bullshit. I’m not sure if I’m lying for Ruby or for myself.

4

RUBY

Music blasts through the speakers in my studio. My phone is shuffling through a random mix of hip-hop, glam rock, boy bands, and alternative music. I’m nothing if not eclectic. I’m not even paying attention to the song playing because I’m lost in the world of my art. There hasn’t been enough time to paint lately. Between work, finding out I have a sister, and fighting with evil Fae assholes, my free time has been limited.

My studio is a converted shed on the edge of Davis’s property. It was already on the land when he bought his cabin. Davis offered it up a few years ago when I complained about not having enough room to paint. The shed is a twenty-by-twenty space, with two tiny windows that barely let any air in. In the winter, I freeze my ass off, even with the space heater going. Now that it’s the end of summer, it’s sweltering hot inside. The door is open, but the air is still today.

I came dressed for the heat and stagnant air, wearing a lacy bralette, a tank top with wide armholes, and short as fuck jean shorts. They’re the best I could do without being naked. Even so, the fabric clings to my skin and sweat drips down my neck.

The first time I painted with oils on canvas was in Mrs. McCullough’s seventh grade art class. She saw something in me and pestered me to come in after school to paint. It took a lot of prompting, but I finally caved. After that first day, there was no keeping me away. I don’t know what she saw in me. A lost little girl who needed adult guidance. Or if she actually thought I had talent. Personally, I think my paintings are all crap, but I can’t stop doing it.

The painting in front of me is a riot of reds, oranges, and yellows. It’s as if the world is on fire. Or maybe it’s my insides. For a long time, I succeeded at burying most of my emotions down deep. It’s funny, I know if my friends described me, they’d say I’m unfiltered and an open book, but those are good disguises for the darker parts of myself I don’t want to reveal. A misdirection to keep people from probing too deeply into my insecurities.

This canvas lays it all out, though, exposing all that damage.

I’ve spent hours lost in my painting without stepping back, and my body is stiff. It’s a loud caw that finally distracts me enough to look away from the canvas. My heart does a quick double thump when I spot a huge crow perched on top of one of the paintings in the corner of the room.

“Ah, hey, bird. You realize you’re inside, right? Just because the doors are open doesn’t mean you should be in here.” I roll my head, trying to work out some of the kinks from standing in the same position for too long.

The bird squawks at me like it wants to argue. I give it some serious side-eye and turn the music down. Now that I’m not working, it’s ridiculously loud.

“You’re not winning this fight, bird. You can’t talk back to me, so I win by default.”

I lift the hem of my tank and wipe off my sweaty face. Maybe I’ll go down to the ocean and jump in. God, that would feel amazing. It’s stiflingly hot inside the shed, the air so thick with humidity that it’s almost hard to breathe.

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