Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(23)

“Because you’re cute,” Jarrett replied. “In a quiet, emo sort of way.”

Tenn immediately regretted asking. Not because he didn’t like the honesty, but because it had been years since he’d even considered hitting on someone, let alone having them do it back. He felt the blush rising back on his cheeks. Not just because of what Jarrett said—something in the forwardness reminded him way too much of Tomás.

“Who are you?” Tenn asked. He had to stay on the offensive. Couldn’t let himself start asking the questions he hadn’t let himself consider in years.

“I’m Jarrett Townsend, captain commander—”

“Who are you really? I never met anyone named Jarrett. Not at Silveron.”

Jarrett paused and studied him for a moment. They were only inches apart. The way his eyes seemed to bore into him... Tenn’s heart couldn’t beat any faster if it tried.

“Before the Resurrection...” Jarrett sighed and looked away. “Before all that shit, before I became this—” he gestured at himself, still not catching Tenn’s eye “—before either of us were what we are...you were called Jeremy. And I was Kevin.”

Tenn gasped at hearing his old name. And Kevin...he remembered that name. He couldn’t forget it.

Jarrett smiled at his shock.

“Yeah. I hit on you once before—I’m glad you seem to remember. Surprise.”





CHAPTER SEVEN

“YOU... I DON’T...” I haven’t heard those names in years.

Jarrett’s grin didn’t slip, but it took on a darker cast.

“I know,” he said. He lowered his voice. “I thought I recognized you when we met, but I wasn’t sure. But when you said Silveron... Well, we’ve both changed a lot.”

Tenn nodded, thoughts slowly congealing into something he could recognize.

Kevin.

Memories blurred. He’d done so well at hiding the past from himself, he could barely recognize the life that slowly swirled to the surface.

Kevin had been in the year ahead of him. They’d crossed paths a few times. Had taken a world history class together.

Water surged...

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” Kevin asks.

Tenn looks up from his homework, his stomach rumbling at the thought.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kevin replies.

Light rain drifts outside the window, blinking in the lantern light like the butterflies awakening in his stomach. Tenn had been able to keep them silent, wrapped up in wars and dates and political figures he knew he’d forget the week after the exam.

His skin tingles as the papers before him flutter and the history book slams shut.

“You’re not supposed to use magic outside the classroom,” Tenn says, but he can’t help the smile that fights its way to his lips as he looks at Kevin. The Sphere of Air swirls light blue and yellow in Kevin’s throat, illuminating the planes of his chin and collarbones. Tenn goes back to packing up his notes. He doesn’t want Kevin to notice his stare, because then he’d clearly know everything that Tenn had been thinking. And wanting.

“I do what I want,” Kevin says. He shoves his own papers sloppily into his bag. “It’s easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

Tenn keeps his head turned. Damn it, now he’s blushing. But if Kevin notices, he doesn’t say anything as he pulls on his coat.

They head toward the on-campus café. Tenn glances at Kevin, then opens to Water. It pulls at him, but he’s getting the hang of it. After two months of sitting by the lake in class and trying to manipulate the waves, even this little bit of magic feels like a victory. He focuses, and arcs the rain around them.

Kevin smiles and pats him on the shoulder. Warmth floods through Tenn’s chest.

“See?” Kevin says. “A little magic never hurt anybody.”

Tenn stumbled as Water sloshed off. Jarrett’s hands were there, steadying him, keeping him balanced. But his hands couldn’t force away the memory, the roar of Water in Tenn’s ears, the after-cries of the thousands of other memories that bubbled alongside that one. He’d hoped that leaving the field and the bloodshed would help, but...

When will it stop?

“What was that?” Jarrett asked.

Tenn couldn’t answer at first; he studied Jarrett’s face, compared it to the boy he barely remembered. Three years of fighting and magic had definitely taken their toll—this new incarnation was taller, more muscled, his skin paled by magic and scarred by bloodshed.

“Water,” he finally said. “Sometimes it... Sometimes it dredges up memories.”

Jarrett nodded slowly, studying him, his hands still steadying Tenn’s arms.

“Are you okay?”

Dozens had asked Tenn that over the last few years, normally during or after battle. Never had he actually felt like the other person wanted an honest answer.

“I don’t know anymore,” Tenn replied.

A Hunter walked past them, saluting Jarrett. Jarrett just nodded. His hands didn’t leave Tenn. The fact that he wasn’t hiding this closeness sent another wash of heat through Tenn.

“How did you know it was me?” Tenn asked.

Water and war had changed him, too. He’d watched the transformation in the mirror over the last few years—the new scars, the dark circles under his eyes, the gauntness that never seemed to fade no matter how much he rested or ate. He didn’t think he looked anything like the boy he once was. He sure as hell didn’t feel like it.