Page 33 of Witch Undecided
“Are you going to glamour?”
“Already have,” he said. “Humans won’t get the benefit of all this lusciousness.” He bumped my shoulder with his arm. “You still get to ogle, though.”
I snorted. “Thanks.”
We walked in silence for a minute, but it wasn’t an easy, companiable silence, it was one of those pregnant silences where one person needed to say shit.
“What’s on your mind, Lauris.”
“Bador said you asked for me personally?”
“Yeah, is that okay?” Fuck, what if he didn’t want this gig.
His mouth twisted slightly. “Look, I’m sure Bramble filled you in on my situation here. I’m happy to be your guard, but only if you genuinely want me, not because you feel sorry for me.”
Ah, okay. “You kicked ass, Lauris. You saved my life. Iwantyou as my guard.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He grinned at me, teeth flashing white in the moonlight, but then his grin faded. “Have you heard from her?”
I didn’t need to ask him to clarify. It was obvious he meant Bramble. “No. I’ve sent her several texts. No reply.”
He ran a hand over his silver hair. “Yeah, I went into Leyton looking for her last night. The usual haunts, but no sign of her.”
“Elijah said she’d come back when ready.” An empty feeling filled my chest because I hadn’t heard from Elijah either. Like Elijah, Bramble had quickly become a friend to me, but she’d been betrayed by the person she’d trusted and loved the most. She was hurting. She needed time. “She’ll be back. She has to come back.”
He nodded, his mouth turned down.
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“Pfft, like a hole in the head.”
“Do you usually go searching for a hole in the head?”
He sighed. “Point. Bramble’s a pain in the neck, but she’s always there for me.”
The atrium came into view, dark and forbidding, and with the moon hiding behind cloud cover the glass looked black and dead. The door was slightly ajar and the sound of fist hitting leather drifted out to greet me.
Yeah, I knew that sound. I’d heard it many a time while training with Dean or Fee.
“I’ll wait here,” Lauris said.
“You can come in.”
He shook his head. “Atrium is off limits to anyone but witches.”
Weird. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
I headed into the gloom. No lights on, just slivers of stubborn moonlight that managed to pierce cloud cover. Sloane bounced from foot to foot amidst the shafts of light, smacking the punching bag with her fists over and over. She’d stripped off her long-sleeve polo shirt that was part of the Elite uniform and was in a white vest that showcased her rounded shoulders and ripped arms. She was powerfully built, and I got the impression she worked out hard, but this…this was no workout. The half-empty bottle of whiskey propped on the fountain ledge gave it away.
Sloane wasn’t working out, she was working shit out of her system, fighting demons only she could see.
This was about Brie.
It had to be.
It was almost nine. I was early. She’d probably wanted this time to herself, but fuck it, I was here.
She slapped her palm against the punching bag to halt its swing. “I said nine p.m.”
