"Now, Liv. Do a lapnow."
Through my panicked, heavy breaths, I managed to get to my feet. They felt like they were on fire.
"I can’t run. More of my blisters popped and I think I’m bleeding this time," I choked out.
"Get in the car and turn your music up loud. Start moving."
I did.
The deafening bass helped, a tiny bit. Enough that I could feel safe behind the wheel.
I pulled out of the parking lot.
Moving toward my house would help too.
"There's no other option. That part of the magic is tied to you. He has to use you to undo it," Callum yelled into the phone, so I could hear it over the music.
"Ilovethe rain!" I yelled back, obviously lying. "Forget fixing it!"
A full century of rain was enough for anyone, but I'd need another couple hundred years before I was ready to face Larson.
Mostly because Niall would undoubtedly get involved. Lars didn't keep anything from him. They were twins, and they were best friends.
"Larson will be at your place at ten!" Callum shouted.
"That's in fiveminutes!"
"Then I suggest you drive quickly."
"I can't believe your mate hasn't killed you yet," I hollered.
Kat laughed on the other side of the line, clearly listening in on our call.
"Larson swears to make sure Niall plays nice. Good luck." Callum hung up.
"Fuck you!" I yelled, even though he couldn’t hear me.
Larson was an instigator, and he preferred it when Nialldidn'tplay nice.
And if Larson was on his way to my house, Niall was either with him or close behind.
Which was really fucking bad.
I must’ve been a glutton for punishment, because my heart beat like a freight drum at the possibility of seeing my ex again.
That was probably Jonah’s fault too. Somehow.
I was just going to blame him for everything that went wrong now. There were no words that properly described how pissed off I was with fate.
three
LIV
I foundLarson sitting on his ass on my porch, spinning a three-dimensional cube that glowed the way only spellcaster magic did.It was a shade of pink that bordered on red, and the most complex-looking spell I had ever seen.
Lars was alone, and looked exactly the way he had the last time I’d seen him. The man was six-and-a-half feet of smooth, brown skin and pure, undiluted charm. His hair was shaved on the sides, and his loose curls were only two or three inches long.
The twin brothers’ faces and builds were identical, even though the men couldn’t have been more different. They styled their hair similarly, too, though Larson's was shorter on the top.
