Page 12 of Bizarre Bonds
Hail is studying the cage. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m seeing what I can make of the warped creatures’ unusual natures… and whether they can be somewhat tamed.” Rollick’s gaze slides to me. “Your talents are certainly useful for evaluating them.”
I offer a bright smile, shaking off my lingering nerves. “I’m happy to help however I can!”
The demon hums to himself and turns to eye the rift. “We can’t leave this portal unmonitored… It’ll take more elaborate protections than the other one, considering the necessary subtlety. The people I can call on to help with that might also be able to advise you and your newly bonded men on your peculiar situation.”
5
Hail
Ice surrounds me with its numbing chill. My conjured sculptures fill my entire dorm bedroom, crystalline mountains with glinting forests looming here, gleaming castles shooting intricate turrets up toward the ceiling there.
No one could say I’m not ambitious. Well, I suppose they could, since I never let anyone see just how big I’m willing to go with my art, butIknow. That’s what matters.
The fewer fucks people think you give, the less likely they are to hassle you with their own shit.
My spectacle isn’t inherently permanent, though. I can feel every particle of the ice I created and shaped with my magic. Patches of my private gallery are starting to melt, as always happens with the warmth that seeps through the walls from the rest of the building.
It’s hard to summon the enthusiasm to bolster the frigid surfaces.
No matter how much of the cool air I breathe into my lungs, no matter how many faint draughts waft over my skin, the stupid glow in the middle of my chest keeps shining. I’ve been attempting to freeze it out of me for the past several minutes—again, even though it didn’t work the first few times I tried.
Add stubbornness to the list of my stellar qualities. None of which are doing me a speck of good at the moment.
When I tug open the collar of my shirt to check, the spot radiates just as brightly as before.
And it doesn’t just glow. I can feelher. All her quivers of embarrassment and determination, pain and delight, trickle into me as she moves through the school.
I’m never going tostopknowing how she feels. I can’t even walk more than a mile or two away from her without sending her into a fit.
I never asked to be responsible for that pipsqueak.
The thought provokes a wince that pisses me off all over again.
For fuck's sake, I can't even think of her as a pipsqueak anymore, not after the power she pulled out of that curvy little body just a few days ago. Not after she saved all our hides from being sorcerer-possessed.
But now she might as well have possessed me, in a way that shows no sign of fading. And because of her damned power, Rollick wants her input on the mystery of these insane rifts, which meansIhave to keep tagging along as if we're a real team. I have to help protect humans who've never given a shit about protecting us.
They always seem to want more excitement in their stupid mortal lives. A horde of warped shadowkind creatures would give them plenty. Why deny them?
An elegant knock filters through my door. You wouldn't think the rapping of knuckles against a hard surfacecouldbe elegant, but I know one being who can pull it off.
Gloss's equally elegant voice carries through the wood. "Hail, let's go take a walk."
I bristle automatically, even though the snow wraith hasn't exactly done anything wrong.
Leaning back on my bed, I shape my own voice much like I manipulated the ice of my sculptures, forming a blasé tone. "I don't really feel like walking."
Gloss switches to a more cajoling approach. "Oh, you've got to at least let me in for a chat. It’s been too long. I've barely seen you in the past two weeks."
What does it matter to her? What does she really want from me?
Most of the time, even if it’s obvious she has larger goals for our partnership, she’s been content with the prestige of hanging off the arm of one of the most powerful beings at the school, one who doesn't kowtow to the teachers or act like I'm ashamed of existing, the way Raze does.
Most of the time, I've been fine with that. I look good with her hanging off my arm. Her prestige as one of the school's queen bees adds to my own in turn.I can deal with the hassle of turning her bigger aims down later.
But how can I care about any of that when my entire existence has been locked down by a glowing cream puff?
