Page 18 of Hunted in the Shadows
“Just drop it,” he cut in, the anger draining from his voice. “Now’s not the time.”
“Then, when?”
“I dunno, maybe never. It’s goddamn better that way. What’s your deal about this, anyway?”
I paused, looking inward. The sharp sting wasn’t entirely his doing. I hugged myself, rubbing a spot of freckles on my arm.
“I just had to say goodbye to every family member and friend I’ve ever known, and you’ve got the chance—even if it’s just achance—to have a sister again. I guess I’m jealous.”
Cliff’s pause drew out heavily. When I looked up, his expression was unnervingly… notfucking annoyedat me.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows sharply, giving him a moment to recant the offer. “You’re really going soft on me, aren’t you? Do I get a hug, too?”
Cliff smirked, but to my immense surprise, he doubled down. His studious gaze raked me up and down, and I felt rooted in midair. All at once, I was back in the Elysian forest, meeting his wide-eyed stare in the night as the Elder declared my banishment from the only home I had ever known.
“You’re doing a good job working through some heavy shit,” Cliff murmured. “And if, I dunno, it’stooheavy…”
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly.
Cliff let out a low, skeptical scoff. “Bullshit. You’re going to hit me with that after bitching at me for the same thing?”
I placed a hand over my heart. “Fairies aren’t known to lie.”
“Guess you’re a trailblazer, then,” Cliff muttered.
“Well, I suppose I could open up a bit if you give your sister a call.”
Cliff’s jaw feathered. “Not happening.” He leaned forward, rapping his knuckles on the table. “Now, you gonna let me out, or is this some new kink for you?”
“Don’t rule it out.” I landed on the table, running a hand over the thick, icy cuff. Then I looked up at him through my lashes. “Why the hurry? You have somewhere to be?”
Taking wing again, I backed away in the air.
He glared at me, rising halfway, only to be caught by the cuff. “Sylv…”
I couldn’t deny there was some level of thrill to this, observing a powerful hunter rendered helpless by my magic. Part of me wanted to see how far he’d go to free himself—drag the table in pursuit of me, or perhaps attempt to break off a chunk of the wood that held the cuff.
Cliff tugged again, his anger useless to him as his voice rose. “Let me out of this goddamn thing, or—”
The door lock clicked open, interrupting us. The relief on Cliff’s face was plain as Jon entered the motel room with a drink carrier in one hand—and my wayward ice javelin in the other. He paused in the doorway, looking between us.
“Everything okay?” he asked slowly.
I shrugged. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Routine question when I find Cliff stuck to a table next to a shattered window.”
“We were training,” I said innocently. “I was just about to free him.” Waving my hands, I made the cuff vanish.
Cliff yanked his wrist to his chest and held it protectively like I might change my mind. I thought he might curse me out, but I swore there was a hint of begrudging pride aimed at me beneath the annoyance.
“Just a spontaneous workout," Cliff told him. "No psychopath behavior here.”
Jon caught my gaze knowingly as he shut the door with his back. He lobbed my icy blade back toward me. I whispered a spell in sync, the magic cradling the ice in midair and dismantling it into a freezing mist that fizzled out as I stretched my palms apart.
“Well, as long as there’s no psychopath behavior,” Jon scoffed. He set down the drink and brown paper to-go bag. “Maybe let’s ease up on breaking shit.”
