The smell of coffee was strong. I breathed it in, feeling calmer by the second.
I was in a coffee shop. Or a café of some kind. It didn’t seem dangerous, and I wasn’t tied up or anything, so Iprobablywasn’t about to be tortured.
I moved to stand, then promptly crumpled to the ground, landing with my face flat on the thankfully clean floors.
“Fuck,” I breathed into the linoleum. The floor wascold.
I tried to maneuver so that I was sitting, and a stabbing pain shot through my hands into my arms. I hissed through my teeth, thenplopped back on my ass with a wince. I held my hands out in front of me, trying hard to hold them still enough to examine the burns.
They were bad.
The tips of a few of my fingers were blackened and feeling no pain at all. I wasn’t any type of health expert, but I knew that was a bad sign. No pain meant nerves were probably dead, and only an actual Healer could fix that.
Filing that bullshit away for later, I focused back on trying to stand. My legs shook as I forced myself to my feet, using the edge of the booth and the table to steady myself.
Eventually, I was able to make my way over to the checkout counter. I ran the back of one of my blistered hands over the smooth, dark wooden finish while I eyed some mismatched coffee mugs set to dry next to a large sink. I turned back to look at the rest of the space, noting how the tables were all shining clean, the floor freshly polished. Blinds were pulled over the front door and wall of windows, the dim glow from outside street lamps barely bleeding through.
My eyes fell to the pastry case near the checkout counter, and my mouth watered. I hadn’t eaten since…I actually wasn’t sure. Between my mother trying to kill me, the academy being attacked and the revelation that my new Key was the modern-day equivalent of a Salem witch, I hadn’t had any time for snacking. And I didn’t even know how long I’d been out.
Fuck my life. My mother actually tried to kill me.
Also,double-fuckmy life. My new Key was the modern-day equivalent of a Salem witch.
I had no idea how to feel about that. Skye was perfect, nothing could change my mind there. Even the memory of watching her kill the two men who were trying to drag away Carla didn’t deter me. I should’ve been terrified, but watching Skye use her affinity without restriction was a stunning sight, one I wanted to see more of. And unfortunately for me, even as safe as I felt in this island café, I knew there was more danger awaiting us.
Especially since my mother now thought I was dead.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, either. Betrayed? Definitely. Angry? Well…I was probably more sad than angry. Part of me felt a little stupid. Mother trying to kill me shouldn’t have been such a shock. It was right in line with who she was and how she’d treated me.
My lips twisted and I scratched at the back of my neck. Why did a mother beating her child make sense to me, but a mother trying to kill her child seem completely insane? The more I considered it, the sadder I got. A mother shouldn’t have wanted to inflict any type of pain on their child. Harm of any kind should have been wrong.
Huh. I figured that out all on my own, and I didn’t even need Wyatt rooting around in my head. He’d be so proud of me.
Too bad he was a piece of shit.
I scowled just at the thought of his smug fucking face. I understood why Rafe brought him to try and fix me during the overdose, but it still pissed me off. He didn’t even do anything to help. I’d been in and out of consciousness, so I’d heard him tell Rafe he couldn’t do anything.
I’d heard the panic in his voice, too, though.
More bullshit to file away for later.
“Hey man,” a deep voice from behind startled me. I jumped slightly, surprised someone had snuck up on me.
It was at that moment that my body really remembered we’d just gone through abattle, and that maybe I should be a little more aware of my surroundings. At least until I found Skye.
Skye.
Where was she? Was she safe? She must have brought us here, but…
I turned to face the possible threat, flexing my sore arms and widening my eyes as I took him in. Dark skin, perfectly coiled hair, tight sweatshirt and some basketball shorts…and the palest eyes I’d ever seen, besides those that belonged to Skye, of course.
This was Skye’s brother. I knew it instantly.
“Zephyr,” I said without hesitation, my shoulders dropping in relief. “Hey.”
Zephyr grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like Skye’s. “Hey. So, she’s shown you my picture, huh?”
“Nah,” I replied with a laugh. “You look just like her.”
