“His aunt married into House Seaton. They’re large, wealthy, and powerful. If I don’t find Phillip soon, they will drag the cops into it, or, worse, they will accuse you directly of hurting him.”
“Because I’m a Madero. Because we solve all of our problems with our fists.”
“Yes.”
She glared at me.
“Tia, when my evil grandmother needed someone to kidnap my older sister, she went to your House. There is a reason for that. Your House built their reputation punch by punch. When your father finds out that you’re being accused of kidnapping or murder, he will explode like a nuclear warhead. He will attack House Seaton and start a feud.”
And it would be a really bad feud.
“Look, I’m not trying to lecture you. I’m just telling you like it is: this will blow up and get really nasty. Phillip has already done enough damage. Why let him ruin your family’s life? He isn’t worth it. Besides, I don’t believe for a second that you want something truly bad to happen to him. He is a shithead, but you are not.”
Her face frosted over.
Shit. I fucked up. I’d had her for a little while, and now I lost her.
“You’re exactly the kind of girl I hate,” she said.
Here we go. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“The kind of girl Phillip would simp over.”
Right for the jugular. “Is that so?”
“I bet you’re rich and popular. You’ve never been picked on in your life. You were probably the queen of Heritage when you went there. I don’t know what your magic is, but I’m sure it’s something elegant and pretty.”
Don’t laugh, don’t laugh…
“You come here wearing designer clothes with your little manicure, playing at some kind of detective, and you talk to me like you know me. You don’t know shit. You have no idea what it’s like when people think you’re a violent freak. When they watch you non-stop because they expect you to explode and ruineverything. So don’t talk to me like you fucking know anything about me.”
Inside me, the Beast uncurled, a phantom woven of multicolored strands, each thread a different aspect of my power. There was only so much screaming I could take.
“Done?” I asked.
“Yeah. We are done here. Feel free to fuck off.”
“I didn’t go to Heritage. I went to Donovan, and now I have to take Path to College courses, because my grades are shit.”
She blinked.
“I had to beg my mother to let me go to Donovan. They’d homeschooled me for a long time because my mother worried I would snap and level the school.”
Tia frowned.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Let’s make a bet. You and I spar, and if I win, you’ll tell me what you’ve done with Phillip. If I lose, I’ll leave.”
Tia laughed. “You’re out of your mind. I’ll destroy you, and then your House will make a giant deal out of your broken legs. You see that bag? It’s full of sand. Ray has to push it back, and he is huffing and puffing after the first five trips. You and I aren’t on the same level, Princess Baylor.”
You’ve got that right.
I reached deep inside me and yanked on the thread of magic I wanted. It was a deep, crimson red.
“It’s a very nice punching bag,” I said.
“Like I told you, not on the same level,” Tia snapped. “So?—”
I punched the bag. The synthetic leather cylinder shot across the gym like a cannonball. The heavy bag flew to the end of the track, snapped off the chain, and exploded against the far wall in a cloud of sand.
