Page 19 of Fractured Fates
A pause.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you think she does?”
“Yes, I think she has an awareness but I don’t think she understands what it means.”
“I think we should keep it that way. For now.”
“Agreed.”
I wait for them to say more, my ears straining in the dark room.
What do they mean? What can they feel?
But all I hear is the hum of the fan in the bathroom and Pip’s soft snores. Finally, sleep claims me again.
7
Stone
My friendvery rarely asks for help. He’s been my best friend these last ten years – since we met back in Arrow Hart Academy. He’s not the best company. The dude is moody, takes himself far too seriously and is pretty anti-social. I rarely see him these days. But he’s also loyal and a damn talented magical – his powers pretty much equal to mine.
So when he calls and says this assignment is different, when he says he needs my help to bring her in, to keep her safe, I don’t hesitate.
Not that I wasn’t cynical about the whole situation. I’m ashamed to say, I thought he had got it wrong. But I should have known better. My best friend doesn’t do wrong.
I drag my hand down my tired face and through my beard. I took the second watch last night and sat in the dark, brooding about this situation.
This morning I’m exhausted, exhausted and slightly pissed off. What is it about fate? Why is it such a miserable bitch? Why can it never land me a break?
And why can’t I shake this sense of doom? The idea that this bratty girl is going to lead us into trouble.
At dawn, my friend rises and silently heads for the bathroom. He returns ten minutes later dressed and ready to go. The girl doesn’t stir.
“I’ll wake her,” I say.
My friend shakes his head. “Let her sleep some more.”
I raise an eyebrow at him but he ignores me and stomps out of the room, muttering about coffee.
An hour later and my patience is running thin.
This isn’t a holiday. I have places I need to be.
I stand and walk to the bed, ignoring my friend, and peering down at the girl. She’s out cold. I wonder how anyone in such obvious danger can be so fucking stupid.
We’re two men, twice her size, powerful magicals. We could slit her throat while she sleeps, we could rip her in half, we could …
I clap my hands together, using my magic to amplify the sound tenfold.
Her eyes fly open in alarm and she bolts upright.
“What the fuck?” she mutters, all the hairs on her arms standing on end.
“Morning sleepy head,” I say. “Time to get the fuck up. You have five minutes before I drag your ass out of here.”
“Shit. What time is it?” she asks, yawning and stretching her arms above her head. She’s like a cat, with her big honey eyes and her agile movements. She’s almost feline. And she’s small like a cat too. My friend is not wrong, the girl’s clearly been half-starved.
