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Wyrd Blood by Donna Augustine (17)

Chapter 20

Breakfast tasted like hell, and it wasn’t the food. It was what followed it each day. Quitting the situation wasn’t an option if I wanted to live more than six months. Maybe if I called it half a year? Nah, still wasn’t any more palatable.

I didn’t even have my people to talk to. Ruck was on some recon mission. He wouldn’t be back for days, and he’d taken Marra with him. Sinsy and Fetch were off hunting on the other side of the country, which apparently was much larger than I realized.

Didn’t matter anyway, since I’d never be able to explain why I hated the fact that I couldn’t do this thing that Ryker wanted. I didn’t even want to do it, but it kept me awake at night that I couldn’t. And I had a hard time controlling my magic around him. Not that I had much control to begin with, but it was an epic failure as soon as he came near me. My crew was settling into a place I feared would kill them, yet they looked happier than they’d ever been. Everywhere I looked, I was failing, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix any of it.

I ate the last of my toast and eggs and dumped my plate in the bin. The clock was useless to me, and another late day would make things worse.

There were more people loitering around the center of town than normal. I made my way around a cluster and saw why. Right there, in the busiest part of town, were two circles drawn into the ground. Ryker was standing in the inner one, waiting for me.

I walked past the first circle, knowing I was allowing myself to be caught. I’d rather get stuck than scream our business in front of everyone.

Ryker didn’t waste any time chanting up the second ward. I stopped when my toes hit the inner one. “What are you doing?”

We are practicing.”

“Here?” I pointedly looked about the place, and all the onlookers. The audience was growing.

“Most people don’t have magic but enjoy seeing it at work. Plus, it’ll be motivational for you.” He shoved up his sleeves and crossed his arms.

This was worse than when I’d thought I was going to fail in front of everyone with Burn. Burn wasn’t trying to turn it into a spectator sport. I’d never hated someone a much as I hated Ryker at this moment. And there were some people I hated a whole lot, and with good reason.

“You think it’s motivational to have everyone see me fail over and over again? To prove what I told you yesterday was correct?” My voice was some weird combination of whispering and screaming. Anyone watching must’ve known we were arguing. If he didn’t have that ward up, I would’ve been strangling him.

His voice dropped as he said, “At least you might care enough to continue trying this time.”

Was that his problem? He thought I wasn’t trying? All I did was try, repeatedly. I wasn’t going to be a spectacle for him to finally believe I couldn’t do what he needed.

We now had a full audience looking on, and more gathering. It was as if they could smell the magic heating up between us. Maybe some of them could.

I took a step away from the inner ward and took another look around before settling my gaze back on him. He could push me around this spot all day long. I wasn’t doing this. “No.”

“Yes,” he said.

No.”

He stepped out of his circle and walked toward me, the toes of his boots brushing mine. “We’re practicing.”

“Or what?” I asked, mocking his tone. I saw the shock of the onlookers, heard the whispers. Yes, see? You didn’t have to do everything Ryker said. He was not a god. I had more control than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t kill me. He couldn’t even hurt me much, because how would I do what he needed then?

Jaws dropped around the circle. People gasped. Maybe it was good that people realized Ryker wasn’t a god. You could defy him and the skies didn’t open up and strike you down.

“You’ve got one chance left.”

I shrugged.

He paced away from me, and I knew he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t even looking at me when he gave a little shove with his magic and I stumbled back a foot.

“And stop getting pushy with your magic.” I said it much louder than I needed to, since he was only a few feet away.

He turned and had the nerve to look confused. I would’ve thought he didn’t realize it, except he said, “I’ll do whatever I have to.”

Rage was brewing inside of me. And then my magic followed suit, feeling like a cyclone. We started off and I vaguely sensed the crowd moving back, as if they knew all hell was about to break loose and didn’t want to catch a random bolt of fire or something.

I was teetering on the edge, and if he pushed me one more time, provoked me even a little, I knew I was going to lose control.

We were staring at each other, and then he got that look. Next thing, I was getting those strange feelings again, the ones his magic did that made me feel all tingly.

It was the final push. It might not have even been aggressive on his part, but my magic was on the verge of exploding. It didn’t matter if it had been a blow or a simple breeze.

I could feel my magic gathering itself like a great beast and then it was unleashing, bursting from me. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I didn’t care. Caught in the fury of the moment, I walked toward him, uncaring of what might come. Then I punched him in the face.

Ryker’s head bounced back an inch.

He lifted a hand to his lip, where a small trickle of blood fell. Holy magic, I’d punched him in the mouth. How had I gotten past his ward? Had he dropped the ward? Why’d he do that? So he could walk over and kill me, probably. This was bad. He’d poked at me before, but nothing on the scale of what I’d just done.

He looked at his fingers as if he’d never seen his own blood before. From the scars I’d seen on his arms, he wasn’t a stranger to bleeding. No. This was shock.

His hand dropped and his attention was back to me. His magic was near bursting beside me, but he’d keep it under wraps. Had to. He wouldn’t kill me. But I had a feeling he could.

From the look on his face, he wanted to. Badly.

Oh boy, was he boiling.

He grabbed my arm, hauling me upward. I focused magic to where his fingers bit into me. My zapper fell flat. What was wrong with my zapper? I was still getting past the shock of that when I felt his shoulder connect with my hip. I placed both hands on his back, not to push off but to try and zap him again. He’d drop me as soon as I could get it to work.

Any day, it would kick in.

I lifted my hands, stared at my palms, then placed them on him again.

“It doesn’t work on me.”

I was beginning to figure that out. This was going to require some delving, but I didn’t have a leg to stand on right now, literally, so it would have to wait.

He was striding through the crowd, who looked quite fearful at the moment. Although I’d often considered them too soft, it was sort of touching that they were concerned for me. I waved to them as he strode. “Don’t worry! I’ll be fine. He’s not going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The growl in Ryker’s voice nearly wiped out that confidence. Was this the part where I should start struggling? Nah. He really did need me. I knew I couldn’t do what he wanted, but he thought I could. He wouldn’t kill me. Right? I was feeling less sure with every step.

And then I was falling. For one second, I thought I was wrong and that he was trying to kill me. I hadn’t even fought my best because I’d felt bad about hitting him again. Now look. I was going to be dead.

Or not dead, but in really cold water. I’d been right. He wasn’t trying to kill me. Except I couldn’t swim, so he might kill me anyway.

I went under, but my body wanted to rise, and I kicked with urgency. But once I got up to the surface, I couldn’t seem to stay there, and I’d sink again.

I did this a few times, each struggle back to the surface taking longer than the last, before an arm wrapped around my shoulders. Ryker towed me upward and then was swimming us both to shore. I wanted to call him an ass but wanted dry ground more. I was alternating between coughing up water and trying to get air into soggy lungs.

He dropped me onto the shore, hovered over me long enough to watch me heave up a chest full of lake, and then stormed a few feet away. “Why does nothing work right with you?”

He was mad? He’d almost killed me.

Okay, he hadn’t known he was going to almost kill me, so I’d cut him a little slack. Plus, I did punch him in the mouth. How had I done that? It hadn’t been nice, but damn, it had been cool.

I would’ve shared some of this, but I was leaning on my side, hacking up more of the lake. He walked over and thumped my back several times, slightly harder than I thought was necessary. He definitely did it just to hit me. I was positive. It was another thing I might’ve shared, but again, it was a little hard to communicate at the moment.

I flopped onto my back, most of the water gone, and glared at him.

He glared back, seeming angrier than I was.

“Don’t you look at me like that. You almost killed me. I’m the one who gets to be mad.” I might have had more accusations, but my lungs weren’t ready for a full tirade.

“I wouldn’t have dumped you in the lake if you hadn’t punched me.”

“So? You shove me all the time.”

“A little shove to help you get your ass in gear is different than punching someone in the mouth.” He crossed his arms, staring at me. “What the hell is coming out of your shirt?”

Nothing.”

“For fuck’s sake, can you be straight with me for once?” He walked over and picked up a soggy remnant. “You’re hoarding biscuits underneath your clothing?”

My eyes gave it away, and he looked down at his own shirt, now covered in soggy dough.

I couldn’t help laughing as he looked down.

“What the hell? I’m covered in wet biscuits.”

Ryker pulled the shirt off and my laughter died. I’d never had sex, but I’d seen plenty of flesh over the years. The slim builds of the men I’d seen, though, looked nothing like this. But where was the mark of the blood?

He turned to walk to the water’s edge, trying to rinse the soggy dough from his shirt, and I caught my breath, sitting up to take a better look.

I’d only seen markings that substantial on myself, and now I got the awe of it. They were different than mine, but just as striking, like bands of black metal coiling and twining underneath his skin. They took up the entirety of his back and were crisp and clear, intricate vines of a sort that shimmered in the sun. I’d felt his power, but this was proof.

He turned, and I dropped my eyes quickly.

I hadn’t seen my back in such a long time. What did I look like? Had mine grown as large as his?

“They get larger with age but stop expanding once you’ve peaked.”

Was he one of those Wyrd Blood who could read minds? No. He was probably used to this reaction.

Silence fell between us. I didn’t know if we were fighting or not. I’d made my point and he’d countered with his. Now what? Was it my turn again? If it was, I needed some more time to figure out what I was going to do next. I wasn’t sure if I could top punching him in the mouth.

He lifted his chin to me in a you okay? gesture.

I nodded. Maybe we were done fighting? I hoped so. I was exhausted. I waved a finger toward his mouth.

He shrugged in a general I’m fine way.

He shook out his shirt and put it back on. He was getting ready to go back. Was he going to drag me with him? Or try? I pulled myself to my feet, ready to fight if I had to.

“We’ll practice at the normal spot tomorrow.”

Had Ryker just offered me a truce? Maybe he could be reasonable. Or maybe he didn’t know what else to do with me. I couldn’t swim, so the lake wasn’t an option. He couldn’t kill me, and a beating was tough when he needed me mobile.

Either way, I’d be stupid not to take the olive branch.

I nodded. That was as enthusiastic as I could get about beating the hell out of myself.

“You know you’re way back?”

I nodded—again.

He tilted his head toward me slightly and said, “It was good work, though.” A hint of a smile lit his lips and then he walked away.

Good work? What was he talking about? I’d refused to do anything and then stomped over and punched him in the face.

Holy magic. He hadn’t dropped the ward. I’d broken it. I’d walked right through it.

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