“Really? Because you’ve got this nice, big apartment, a job in their building, all their fucking numbers,Kace,” I sneer her nickname like it’s sour, making the implication clear—they also gave her that.
I get closer and closer, canting my head as she scrambles backwards.
“But you’re telling me they just gave you all of that—handed that all over—because they’re such nice guys,” I spit, the mocking sweetness butchered by my unrestrained rage.
She keeps shaking her head, strands of dark hair flying. “You’ve got it all wrong, J. They’re good guys, they—”
“Good? They’re liars and manipulators!” I hiss. “You don’t know them. Not like I do.”
“And you don’t know them like I do!” she yells back, her gaze glowing vibrantly, hands clenched into fists.
Is she… is she challenging me?
Hot, blinding, visceral rage erupts inside of me and manifests into roaring flames of obsidian that surround us.
How dare she.
I don’t know them like she does? I don’t know MY bonds likeshedoes.
What does that even fucking mean? Like what? Like friends?
Lovers?
The rage curdles into a sickness I can barely contain. The lights in the room flicker out, and even the dark orange glow of the sunset is swallowed whole.
“They saved me, J,” she utters softly.
Saved?
The words are physical blows.
Saved her? Saved her from what? From who?
Kacey is terrified and she should be, but she’s also not backing down. She faces my glower head on, her aura expanding around her in soft purples. Then I catch ghostly shapes in my peripheral.
There’s a tiny part of me hanging on, keeping my feet glued to the spot as my teeth grind and my legs tremble.
“Explain. Now,” I bite out, the amount of exertion those few words take causes my flames to splutter.
Kacey clocks the action before focusing back on my face.
“I know you don’t trust me right now, but I trust you.”
“We barely know each other,” I murmur, cringing at the sharp ache in my gut.
“I know.” She nods, the glow in her eyes still prominent. “But I still trust you. I might not be an empath but necromancers have other senses, warning signs. We know when someone is close to death, when someone is in pain…” She lets that last comment hang. “We can also sense ill-intent, when we’re in danger, and—even though you look pretty freakin’ scary right now—I can sense you holding back. I can feel the pain it’s causing you to even try.”
I can’t deny it and her gaze softens, the violet glow dulling.
“I trust you, J. Enough to tell you my truth, to risk my life telling you. I swear I don’t expect anything in return.” She nods again, to herself, I think.
When I notice the shapes around the room have begun to dissipate, I let my flames reduce—just a little.
Our eyes stay locked as she slowly walks backwards until she’s right by the sofas, and sits, staring at me with pleading eyes.
I bite my tongue, then follow, sitting on the opposite one.
Kacey takes a deep breath, then begins. “After the Dark War, necromancers formed their own district, like most creatures did. But mixing with others? Big no-no. Anyone caught leaving without the king’s permission is given a fate worse than death.”
