encountering threats.
CIPRIAN
Dad won’t stop calling and demanding results like a drill sergeant. I explain... again, then hang up, frustrated that I’m letting him get to me. I’m already kicking myself for pushing too hard at the Naked Fang and destroying the camaraderie I busted ass to build.
Dad is keyed up. With the witch drama going on, he sees betrayal in every corner, including the Fringes.
Callum’s return isn’t helping. Their tension always spills over and lands on me. Since neither of them will confront their shit with each other, I catch it on both ends. Can’t lash out at the person you really want to? No problem. Trash Ciprian instead. The family fuckup won’t complain about it; he’s too unserious.
Sliding my cap on backward, I glance at the shitty mirror in my apartment. It’s giving asshole, but that’s for the best. I know what happens when I let people close. Arm’s length it is.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I groan. If it’s Dad again, I’m tossing the damn thing in the toilet. Then I think about Sheena and scramble to unlock the screen. She isn’t doing great, and I’ll take a million of Dad’s lectures before I’ll let her down.
Worry churns in my gut as a voice memo pops up. I listen to it, rubbing sunscreen on my forehead and nose as my stomach twists. She sounds awful, but I can tell she’s trying to hide it. Wiping the excess sunscreen on my jeans, I type out a response.
Ciprian
I’m glad you got a lead. You sound like shit.
Three dots pop up, disappear, then reappear. I grip the sink with my fingers until my knuckles turn white. This whole situation makes me feel helpless.
Sheena
I know. Callum and Gideon will find something, I’m sure.
I won’t give up.
Ciprian
No, you fucking won’t. You can’t ever give up. Promise me, bestie.
Promise.
I need another promise from you while you’re at it.
Hit me with it.
I hold my breath, impossibly angry at the gods, magic, all the dead elders, and anyone else I can think of. I’m not equipped for anything but a solution to this problem. Sheena gets me. I can’t even entertain the thought of failure...
“She’ll be fine,” I say out loud, assuring myself in the mirror like a total loser, then typing ferociously.
Ciprian
If it gets worse, you tell me. You’re trying to act okay. I could hear it in your fucking voice. That’s fine, but don’t do it with me. Give me a chance to not fuck this up.
I hit send and release the breath I’m holding. There’s barely anything left to exhale. Like always, I’ve sucked the good out and left only scraps behind.
Sheena
Deal.
And for the record, you won’t fuck up. Not with me or Celine.
Ciprian
Code names, bestie. Gods, you’re the opposite of covert.
I snort as she edits her previous text, replacing Celine’s name with wings.
