IN THE CORNER of his mind, Tenn knew this was suicide. He could feel the invisible shield surrounding the compound flicker when control passed over to another Air mage.
Then they were beyond it.
That was all he could sense. Everything else was a roar of wind in his ears and the flare of pain in his flesh. Even with the twins and Jarrett clinging to him tightly, every minuscule piece of exposed skin screamed as the wind tried to tear him apart. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming, too. Earth flooded his body with magic as chunks of flesh shot into the night, only to be replaced and torn off again. It seemed to last an eternity, the pain and the screams and the wind.
Then he felt Earth connect to the sudden ground beneath his feet. The wind stopped.
Flesh knit itself together one final, searing time as the twins stepped away. Jarrett kept a firm grip on him.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was a little breathy, and his chest moved fast. Only the twins seemed unfazed by the experience; they stared at the horizon, Air glowing in their throats as they scanned.
Tenn nodded and the world swayed with that movement. If not for Jarrett’s firm grip, he would have fallen over.
“Never again,” he said, his lips cracking from Earth’s drain. He let go of the Sphere; his stomach rumbled in protest.
He fought down the bile that rose in his throat and wiped away his tears—from pain or the wind, he wasn’t certain. All he knew was that he’d used far too much magic lately. He needed to sleep. He needed to recharge.
The four of them were covered in Tenn’s blood, white clothes stained crimson, Jarrett and his blacks oily and slick. A momentary pang of guilt flooded him before he was able to remind himself that flying hadn’t been his choice. Before he could feel too guilty, Dreya opened to Water and pulled the blood from their clothes. Blood could be controlled by a Water mage only once it was outside of a living body; otherwise, bodies were protected against manipulation unless direct contact was made.
“We must go,” Dreya said when their clothes were cleaned. “The guards will have felt that much magic. They will send a search party soon.”
It was only then that Tenn realized they weren’t in the suburbs surrounding Outer Chicago, but in the middle of a highway that shot like a silver arrow through the night. He glanced over his shoulder. The city was barely a glimmer in the distance. But Dreya was right; that much magic would have triggered an alarm. How was she still able to talk? Jarrett still seemed to be recovering, his breath fast and his eyes darting, but she was fine.
“Where are we going?” Tenn asked. Here they were, in the dead of night, in the middle of the monsters, with no plan. At least, none that he knew of. They needed to move fast. Even if the Hunters didn’t send scouts, there were still Howls and rogue necromancers to contend with.
“The Witches,” Jarrett said. Tenn couldn’t tell if it was condescending or not.
“Where are they?” he asked.
“This way,” Dreya said. She walked off, leaving him no choice but to follow.
“Where?” Tenn asked again. He refused to budge, even though Jarrett cast him a bewildered glare.
He almost expected them to leave him there, but Dreya stopped and looked back.
“We cannot tell you.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Maybe it was the pain of flight, but Tomás’s words fired through his brain. Why were they dragging him along on this mission? Why had they come to him in the first place? “I’m sick of being led along like a dog.”
He expected Jarrett to speak up, but it was Dreya who replied.
“Won’t,” she said. She sighed. “If we tell you, and you are captured, and tortured, you may reveal their location. We swore we would protect their safety and their secrets. We cannot risk that by telling you where they are.” She looked to Jarrett, and her sad expression turned razor-sharp. “Some vows, at least, we must uphold.”
Jarrett bit his lip, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did Dreya. She turned and continued on.
Tenn considered not moving. He considered turning around and wandering off into the night.
“Don’t do this,” Jarrett whispered.
Tenn stared at him.
“Do what?” He watched Dreya and Devon walk on; neither looked back.
“This isn’t the fight you want,” Jarrett replied.
“I don’t want a fight. I want answers.”
“I know,” Jarrett said. He put a hand on Tenn’s shoulder. Tenn hated himself for it, but that one movement weakened his resolve. “I want answers, too. For both of us. Whatever’s happening with this—” his hand moved from Tenn’s shoulder to his stomach, to where Water churned over with wanting “—affects both of us. The Witches are said to have discovered magic. They trained those two.” He nodded to the twins. “If anyone will have answers, it’s them.”
Tenn knew he should be asking more questions. He should keep the inner fire going. But he couldn’t get his thoughts in gear—they were spinning on Jarrett’s statement. This affects both of us. Both of them. Together.
Maybe Jarrett wasn’t trying to use him like Tomás had said. Like Tomás was. Maybe Jarrett was trying to work toward a mutual future.
Tenn nodded, and Jarrett pulled him in for a quick hug, kissing him gently on the neck.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
He pulled away and walked on before Tenn could get used to the closeness. The absence was stronger than anything Jarrett could have said to convince him—it tugged Tenn onward, and he knew then that he would follow Jarrett wherever he went.
They trudged on in silence until the night was deep and the city was barely a memory behind them. Moonlight filtered down from the clear sky, making everything glow silver and ink-black. They hadn’t come across a single soul since they’d left the compound. The night seemed longer and emptier than it should have—just endless road and fields and abandoned cars. The sight of the fields reminded him way too much of Michael’s death. How had that only been a day ago? It felt like the entire world had changed.
Minutes dragged to hours and the cold went from cool to piercing. There were a thousand questions Tenn wanted to ask—who were the Witches, how did the twins know about them and where the hell were they going?—but he kept quiet. The questions he truly wanted answers for were the ones he couldn’t voice, the ones he was terrified to know. Tomás and Matthias were out there, still hunting him. And he still had no idea why.
Devon and Dreya paused by the side of an old SUV. It didn’t stand out from any of the other vehicles they’d passed, save for the fact that all its windows were intact.
The twins exchanged another look. Devon shrugged.
“Devon thinks... He thinks he can drive this,” Dreya said.
Fire and Water flickered in Devon’s body as he peered intently through the windows, his hands tracing the glass like a kid ogling a candy-store window.
“Drive it?” Jarrett said. “Good luck getting it to start.”
Tenn remembered the cold mornings of his childhood and his mother’s frantic attempts to get the car running so she could get him to school on time. Memory made his heart clench, but he stayed focused on the present. The last time this SUV had been used was probably three years ago. Minimum.
“The tank is full,” Dreya said. “The battery is dead, but Devon can change that. He is good with cars. They were his fascination as a child.”
Jarrett raised an eyebrow. If Devon was paying them any attention, he didn’t show it.
“Tenn?” Dreya said. “The doors, if you please.”
“Um, okay.” He opened to Earth and pushed his senses through the various mechanisms, finally finding the locks on each of the doors. He twisted the metal and rendered the locks obsolete. Crude, but it got the job done.
“Everyone in,” Dreya said. She walked around to the passenger’s side and got in without waiting for an answer.
“Beats walking,” Jarrett said with a shrug. He opened the door for Tenn and then slid in, throwing their gear in the trunk.
“Have you done this before?” Jarrett asked when they were inside.
Devon nodded. “Once,” came his muffled reply.
Tenn didn’t want to know what Devon was doing. Fire and Water and Air were glowing in his body, and that was enough to give Tenn a hint. Strange noises came from the engine. The truck shuddered.
“The oil is bad,” Dreya said. “He is purifying it. And charging the battery.”
“I didn’t realize you could do that,” Jarrett said.
“At its base, Fire is energy.”
“So why don’t you have electricity in Outer Chicago?” Tenn asked.
“Ask Cassandra,” Dreya said. Tenn couldn’t see her face, but he could tell from her voice that there was a smirk on her lips. “Other guilds have electricity. So far, hers is the only one we have visited without it. I think she prefers the appeal of living in the Dark Ages.”
“Not surprising,” Jarrett muttered.
Tenn sank back in the seat, and Jarrett put his arm across Tenn’s shoulders.
He tensed for a moment. Even though they’d spent a few hours earlier curled against each other, this felt foreign. This felt too normal. Too good. He waited for Jarrett to shift, to retract his arm. He didn’t. So Tenn decided to go with it. Tenn snuggled in close, absorbing Jarrett’s warmth. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend they were just in the back of a car on a cool winter’s night, about to drive with friends to the movies or out to eat. He could pretend there were no monsters and no magic—just an empty road and warmth on the horizon. If he ignored the pops and hisses coming from the engine, that is. He didn’t ask if Devon really knew what he was doing. He didn’t want to know.
Finally, with the crunch of gears and a rumble, the SUV shuddered to life. Devon looked back at the two of them. Although his mouth was covered by his scarf, his eyes grinned with a distinct told-you-so look.
“Damn, boy,” Jarrett said. “If only we’d known about your skills sooner. You could have been the official bus driver.”
Devon chuckled and turned back to the front. With a shift of gears, they were off.
To say it was strange was an understatement. Tenn hadn’t been in a car since...well, since he’d fled from the Academy. He’d never expected to have the experience again. He stayed nestled against Jarrett and watched the world streak by outside the window. Devon turned the heat up.
“What are you thinking?” Jarrett asked. He ran his fingers through Tenn’s hair.
Tenn shook his head. It was way too easy to get used to this closeness. Way too dangerous to think this was possible.
If he let himself think either of those things, he’d just want it more.
“Nothing. It’s just...this is weird. I mean, it’s just so...normal.”
He didn’t just mean the car ride. He meant Jarrett, the way that being around each other felt natural, every movement and touch one of memory and not new territory.
Jarrett felt like home. All of this did.
“I know,” was all Jarrett said. Then they both went back to staring out the windows, lost in their own thoughts.
A few miles in, Devon turned on the radio. No stations played, of course—just static. It’s not like they were expecting some magical mystery signal from a Howl-free country or something. That shit only happened in bad zombie flicks. There was a CD in the player, and Devon switched over to it. Tenn jumped as heavy metal blared through the speakers. Devon turned it down.
The world had changed entirely. Tenn knew that. But here, in the car, snuggled against Jarrett, he could almost let himself believe otherwise. He could almost forget about the Howls and the necromancers and the monsters that seemed to stalk his bedside. He could almost forget the blood staining his hands and heart. If he tried, he could almost let himself believe that this was a life they could have again—driving around with friends, listening to music, going somewhere for enjoyment rather than necessity. He could almost believe there’d be a house at the end and a family to invite over for dinner.
He could almost believe that everything would be okay.
He could pretend.
That lie... That lie was the only thing that made life worth fighting for.
He closed his eyes, and sleep found him immediately.