All right, not so innocent. But he didn’t know that.
Impossibly, Grayson looked even stonier. “Pierce.”
Pierce tilted his head, studying me like a specimen before raising one pale hand. A wave of icy blue magic rushed toward me, peaking and then crashing above my shoulders. I knew I should feel cold, but I didn’t. At most, Pierce’s magic felt like a cool shower on a hot day. Refreshing. Especially after Flynn’s fire.
The man directing his magic at me had long white-blond hair, cheekbones as sharp as knife blades, and pale-gray eyes—ice chips, really. Those chips held a slightly bemused expression—as if his failure to freeze the blood in my veins surprised him. Without a word, he straightened his cuffs, his expression returning to neutral.
“Teal?”
The remaining guard stepped forward with easy confidence, a roguish smile playing at his lips. “My turn, sweetheart.” Green magic coiled from his hands, forming choking vines with killing thorns that snaked across the floor with predatory grace, eager to choke me or rip my flesh from my bones.
When the vines reached my shield, the leaves withered, and the stalks dried. The thorns crumbled to dust on contact. Teal’s eyebrows rose in appreciation, and his frown shifted into an intrigued grin. “Well now, that’s interesting.”
Before I could tell him to go to hell, a wind gusted through the room, strong enough to move the furniture. Strong enough to break the windows. Brutal gusts sent the glass shards right at me. But the glass was controlled by magic and couldn’t touch me. I sat in the center of a maelstrom.
Pierce observed the chaos with detached interest, hands clasped behind his back, as unmoved by the violence as if he were watching a gentle rain.
Like all quads in the guard, each member controlled an element—fire, water, earth, and air. They’d shown them all.
Grayson’s gale died. “You’re coming with us.”
Exactly what I’d feared. “On what charge?” Somehow, despite my racing heart, I kept my voice steady.
“Murder.”
My mouth went dry. He was bluffing, I was almost sure of it. “He broke into my house and attacked me, and you’re accusing me of murder?”
His left eyebrow quirked. “He is the one who’s dead.”
“You’ve seen my shield.”
“I have. We all attacked you with deadly magic, yet we’re still standing. You chose to kill him.”
“Perhaps my shield can divine intent.” It couldn’t. My shield had no mind of its own. Mostly. Until today. When it rebounded Smit’s magic and landed me in this mess. Something foreign burrowed beneath my skin—Smit’s magic, still there like an evil parasite I couldn’t shake. But worse, I could also feel echoes of the guards’ powers. Fire that made my fingertips tingle. Ice that cooled my blood. Earth that thrummed in my bones. Air that whispered at the edges of my mind.
I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to shut out the alien sensations. This wasn’t how shields worked. We deflected magic, we didn’t—couldn’t—absorb it. So why did Flynn’s fire kindle in my chest? Why did I know exactly what was wrong with the sickly plant on the windowsill?
The worst part? A traitorous corner of my mind whispered that their powers felt right, like missing pieces I’d been searching for my whole life. Which was terrifying. And impossible. I was a shield, not an elemental. But their powers were there, lodged inside me. Another secret I had to keep if I wanted to continue breathing.
Grayson’s eyes glittered like sapphires. “You think we didn’t try to kill you?”
Why did his words wound me in a way his magic couldn’t? Why did I expect members of the guard to behave better than a man like Wolgen Smit? I should know better. I was a woman. They thought I was disposable. Also, they were men. I thought they were cruel, callous monsters. “I defended myself.”
“You’re a shield. You could have withstood his magic. Instead, he’s dead.” Flynn, the one who’d thrown fire at me, smirked and sank onto Grandmother’s couch, lifting his booted feet onto the coffee table, then making a show of examining the scorch marks he’d left on the upholstery. “Looks like you need to redecorate.”
I swallowed my extreme annoyance. If I let his rudeness distract me, I’d be taken. No question. Instead of pointing out that the burned fabric was his fault, I continued my argument. “Death magic is rare.”
Grayson grunted.
“Only found among men.” In other words, I didn’t have the power to kill the man on the floor. “He’s dead by his own doing.”
“Doesn’t matter if you killed him or not.” Grayson reached for my arm. “You’re still coming with us.”
I shifted away from him, evading his grasp. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” Well, not counting killing Smit and hiding my shielding powers for the past decade or so. Other than that, I was completely innocent. Mostly innocent. Everyone had secrets.
Grayson pinched the bridge of his nose, very clearly running out of patience. “You’re a shield.”
I had a shield. I was a friend. A sister and confidante to the girls we took in. A granddaughter. A woman. And that was my problem.In Legacia, women might have powerful magic, but they didn’t have power.
