Page 10 of Spark of Sorcery
“Despite making it clear she’s ours,” I say, rocking back on my heels and then forward again, “despite Thorne’s little temper tantrum, she’s still walking around like she’s a punchbag and not a human person.”
“Agreed,” Beaufort says, leaning against the wall, and drumming his fingers against the plaster, “the question is, which of the idiots gathered here tonight do you think was responsible for what happened to her in the maze?”
I sweep my gaze across the collection of fuckwits – sweaty and disheveled, grinding against one another, pawing at each other.
“None of them,” I say.
“Yeah, agreed,” Beaufort mutters with irritation, “but then who was?”
I fix him with a hard cold stare. “If she was talking to us, we’d know. If you’d told her the tru–”
“She’s not ready for that,” he snaps back.
You’d think we’d all be as high as the rest of them tonight. We’re not. We’re irritated. Moody. Brewing for a fight.
“If she knew the tru–”
“Maybe she’d be in even more danger,” Beaufort says lowly so that only the two of us hear.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, my body suddenly deadly still, my ears practically pitched asif I’m standing here in wolf form and not human. “Have you seen something more?” I whisper, barely moving my lips.
Beaufort shakes his head.
“Then what–”
“The argument.”
“You said it was just a stupid disagreement,” I say.
“Because I thought it was,” he drags his hand down his face, “but the more I think about it, about what she told me, the more I think, maybe it wasn’t.”
“What the hell are you talking about, dickhead?” I mutter in irritation. “Stop talking in fucking riddles and tell me.”
“It could be nothing…”
My body convulses, flicking for the briefest of moments between my two forms. “Fucking tell me before I rip you limb from limb.”
“Fine.” He stares right ahead. “She had a sister. An older sister who died at the academy.”
“How?”
“Accident apparently. But Briony doesn’t believe it. The way she talks about her sister, it’s as if she was special or something.”
“Everyone talks about their sister that way,” I mutter.
“You might talk about your sister that way, pervert,” Beaufort snaps, “but I–”
“Go to hell,” I snap right back. “I don’t have a sister and you know what I mean.”
“What if Briony is right?” Beaufort continues, scratching at his cheek. “I don’t know, man. The name, Storm, I feel like I heard it somewhere else before.”
“How? When?”
“I don’t remember. In fact, I’m not sure if I’m justimagining it.” He growls in frustration. “But what if someone killed her sister and now they’re going after Briony too?”
“It doesn’t make any sense, though, Beau. Why would anyone waste their time trying to kill a couple of girls from Slate?” I say. “It’s not like she has any powers. You said so yourself. Those scars. No shadow weaver could withstand that kind of torture without their magic breaking through.”
“Yeah,” Beaufort says, nodding his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Much more likely to be one of those cunts thinking they’ve grown too powerful to listen to what we have to say. Trying to get at us, through her.”
