Page 53 of Bizarre Bonds
How is it fair for me to beat her up over her ignorance when I shut her out in the first place?
For fuck’s sake, why shouldIeven care? I didn’t pick her. I—well, maybe I did want her a little—but I didn’t ask to be tied to her for what might be forever.
I do care, though. A significant part of the pain inside me comes from recognizing how much pain I’ve put Peri through with my arguing. How I’ve disappointed her with my caustic remarks.
How I’ve treated her like she’s pathetic when I know she isn’t at all.
I curl up in a corner of an alley, condensing my presence around the ache inside. None of it’s fair—not to me, not to her.
Maybe not to all the humans out there either, if I let myself think beyond my knee-jerk anger.
Now the rest of my team is going to want me around even less. And I can’t say they’d be wrong to turn their backs on me.
19
Periwinkle
As I walk up to the school in the stark desert sunlight, I can’t help thinking that the smooth tan structure looks smaller than I remember. Maybe because I’ve been surrounded by city high rises for the past few days.
But though both the reform building and the neighboring one for voluntary students are teeny in comparison, a quiver of apprehension runs through my nerves.
Even if Gloss is banished, her friends are still attending classes in there. Who knows how much they’d like to chop me into kibble or punt me through the nearest rift now that I’m responsible for her expulsion? If you look at the situation in the least generous way, which I suspect they will.
And then there are all the other students I’ve managed to rub the wrong way somehow or other.
I’ve never tried to make enemies, only friends. Why do I keep stumbling into opposite world?
Raze strides along beside me, his mouth set in a scowl. “No one’s even getting close to you. I’m not leaving your side for one second.”
He cuts his gaze toward Hail, who’s sauntering across the dry packed earth just behind us. “Maybe you should find somewhere else to be. We don’t want any more of your fan girls to get ideas about ‘protecting’ you.”
Hail raises his hands in a casually defensive gesture. “I didn’t incite anyone to begin with, and I can continue keeping any provocative thoughts to myself. Aren’t we supposed to be ateam?”
He sounds as if he tried to turn that last word into a sneer, but his voice falters instead. In the aftermath of yesterday’s searing anger, the current of emotion passing from him into me is tinged with sour, smoky gloom like barbequed ribs left on the grill too long.
I think he meant all those things he said, though. He really believes that Viscera might be right, that the humans in the city deserve her demolition spree.
I don’t see how that’s possible… but I haven’t seen that much of life in the mortal realm. I did spend most of my time on this side of the divide in a sorcerer’s cage, after all. My captivity didn’t exactly provide a buffet of experiences.
My former captor deserved the destruction that came down on him. What has Hail experienced that made him feel so many other humans do too?
There’s a tang of pain deep down inside him that he normally manages to hold back. I tasted it through his anger, and it laces his melancholy now.
Maybe that’s why he puts on such a cool, uncaring front—like a wall to stop anyone from picking up on the tender spot he’s protecting underneath.
If Mirage has surrounded himself with a barricade of jokes, why couldn’t the winter fae be shielding himself with snark?
For now, I have to let it go. I can’t do anything about his pain if he thinks I’m too much of a pipsqueak to bother talking to me about it.
Mirage bounds across the terrain beside us, staying in human form but still managing to pull off a couple of forward flips and a twist in midair. He lands gracefully on his feet and spins around. Then he shoots a cautious glance toward Jonah. “There’s no one around to complain. The monsters can run a little wild.”
Jonah lets out a stiff laugh. “Yes, you don’t have to be as careful here as we were in the city. It’s probably good to burn off some of that restless energy. But don’t worry about me. I don’t have the authority to place sanctions on your behavior anyway.”
A smack of bitterness flows from him with those words. He’s ashamed and frustrated that Rollick took away his title as teacher.
I don’t understand the demon’s reasoning. While he was away from the academy, Jonah was only teaching the four of us. It isn’t as if he was handling full classes to distract him.
But Rollick must have had his reasons, and Jonah hasn’t been willing to talk to me about his troubles either. No one wants to take the ear I’d love to lend.
