“Because you’re allergic to decision making? Which, I’d like to point out, I’ve always found ironic since you make spur of the moment, life or death decisions at work every day.”
Stone rolls his eyes. “Strangers are one thing, but with the people I actually care about, I let emotional attachments cloud my judgment, as you’ve clearly witnessed recently. And we both know that Kodiak would be as bad as Carina if we set him loose with any sort of authority. But you?” He pulls to a stop the same moment I do, catching sight of Amara and Kodi crossing the parking lot on their way back to her car. “You see things from every angle faster than it takes most of us to even realize the extent of whatever shit-storm we’ve stumbled into.”
Kodiak answers the silent question on my face the moment they’re within ear shot. “Cafe manager took one look at her and knew she was perfect for the job. Hired her on the spot. Just need to snag her social security card so they can make it official.”
Amara rolls her eyes, but there’s still a small smile at the corner of her lips as she unclips her keys from her belt loop. “Don’t let him fool you, they’re desperate because they lost four people this month. If anything, it’s a sign that it’s a shitty place to work.”
As her back is turned, unlocking the car, Kodi winks at us. “That may be, but the manager was smart enough to offer her three bucks more an hour than their job listing states.”Completely unprompted, I’m sure.“If they’re going to be stupid enough to take you for granted, may as well bleed ‘em dry before you move onto bigger and better things.”
I open my mouth to respond when a faint clicking sound has muscle memory kicking in before my brain has a chance to assess the countless possibilities, the others reacting instantly to my shift in demeanor. It’s as if no time’s passed since we set foot on a battlefield together, the three of us playing to our strengths and working seamlessly without a word. Stone grabs Amara’s wrist, flinging her away from the car and into my arms. Pulling her into my chest as I pivot on my heel, my wings snap out, barely finishing wrapping around her before we’re caught in the fiery explosion.
Thrown off our feet, we slam into the ground, hard. Several of the tiny bones in my wings snap, and I grit my teeth through the sharp pains that lance through my body. One arm firmly wrapped around her waist, I cradle the back of Amara’s head in my palm, keeping her pinned tightly against me as we go rolling across the parking lot. By the time we finally stop, there’s a high-pitched ringing in my ears, all other noise sounding a million miles away.
Bracing a hand on the pavement to keep my weight from crushing her, I stifle a groan. “Is anything broken?”
Her breathing is shallow, and I’m forced to read her lips as she rasps, “I don’t think so.”
My wings scream in protest as I draw them back in, the bones grinding as opposed to the usually smooth transition. Chances are slim that anyone was recording before the car bomb went off, but there’s no way it hasn’t started to draw a crowd by now. Pushing through the ache between my shoulder blades, I climb off of her, scanning for signs of injury. I don’t have to search for long; there’s a puddle of blood soaking the ground beneath her right leg.
Stone’s hand grips my upper arm, helping me up, and tightens to bruising levels once he catches sight of Amara. Releasing me, he scoops her up without hesitation, and she’s rattled enough that she doesn’t even protest. Kodi appears a moment later, shirt almost completely singed off, blood and soot streaked across his body, but in one piece. He managed to contain the worst of the shrapnel, but with the reptilian slits his eyes have become, is beating the hell out of himself for one slipping past him.
The road rash on Stone’s cheek is already beginning to heal, the lucky son of a bitch, but as the crowd grows and my ears finally pop, the sounds of sirens closer than I realized, it helps to shake me out of my dazed state. “We need to go.Now.”
Chapter 15
Amara
––––––––
“Too tight?” Stone asks, keeping his tone light and reassuring, but the tension around his eyes gives him away.
My skin is crawling to the extent I might throw up,but I don’t have any way to explain the sensation that doesn’t make me sound absolutely insane, so I simply shake my head. “It’s fine, thanks.”
When I go to pull my leg off of his lap in the backseat now that he’s finished wrapping it, his bloodstained latex glove settles on top of the gauze to stop me. “You should keep it elevated.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the twitch of his thumb draws my eye to the small tremor in his hand, how tightly coiled his entire body is. Even though it’s a moot point between us, he’s still wearing gloves every time I see him, keeping his distance, and touch respectful whenever it’s necessary. For all of my fears over my life being held in someone else's hands? They’re in the same position with me, if not worse since I’ve been stabbed and nearly blown up in the past month alone.
