Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(108)

“You were shot, Delaney.” His gaze searched mine, seeking understanding there.

I waited. He didn’t say anything else.

“I know,” I finally said. “I was there when it happened. Lots of crappy things happened that day.”

That, apparently, wasn’t the response he wanted. He shook his head and glanced back out the window, frowning, then returned to me with a sigh.

“I could have handled that better,” he admitted. He wasn’t apologizing, nor was he asking for forgiveness. This was just a statement of facts.

It was always our first step in trying to rebuild our friendship. Facts.

“I’m angry,” I said.

That was a fact too. But what I didn’t tell him, what I would never tell him, was how much he had hurt me and how hard it would be for me to trust him again.

“Is that why you followed me here today?” I asked.

“I just…I need you to know Old Rossi might not have your best interests in mind,” he said.

“And you do?”

I clamped my mouth shut. I hadn’t meant to ask that. Hadn’t meant to let the hurt out where he could see it.

My heart was pounding.

Don’t answer that, don’t answer that.

His voice was low, intimate. “I always have.”

Then don’t leave me.

“I need to go,” I said in a rush, all the air in my lungs used up, all the space in my chest pounding, pounding.

All I had wanted was ice cream. How had this gotten so complicated?

I stood and pulled my wallet out of my purse.

Ryder stood too, reaching for my hand. “Wait, let me—”

“No, that’s fine, I got—”

Our hands collided, and I dropped a few bills on the table.

“Sorry.” He quickly scooped up the bills. “Let me pay…”

Lying on top of a twenty-dollar bill was Spud, the little origami dog Ryder had folded and left beside my pillow. He held it in his palm for a long moment, staring at it.

“Oh,” he said, the word holding far too many emotions. “Delaney, I—”

Not now. Not here. No.

I plucked the little dog out of his hand. His eyes followed it, watched as I carefully tucked Spud back inside my wallet, but in a safer place behind my driver’s license.

He opened his mouth, shut it, words lost to what seemed like regret.

Join the club.

I leaned forward and kissed him. It was fleeting, just a brush of my lips against his. I felt the surprise in his inhalation, the tightening of his body, his mouth opening on the shared breath that stuttered between us before I pulled away.

“Goodbye, Ryder.”

His hand, just his fingertips, stretched as if to reach me, as if to hold on to a quickly fading ghost.

But I kept moving, turning, walking. Until sunlight surrounded me and the breeze dried tears I refused to let fall.

I got in the Jeep and started the engine.

“You can do this, Delaney,” I told myself. “You can move forward without him.”

Liar, my heart whispered.

“He is sorry, you know.”

I jerked at the voice. Herri—or rather, the goddess Hera—sat in the passenger side of my Jeep. She still looked much like her mortal self. But instead of wearing a tank top and jeans, she wore a beautiful flowing gown that seemed to catch whole galaxies in the folds, like peacock feathers glittering.

“Who’s sorry?”

“Ryder.”

“Is that why you’re here? To tell me he feels bad about breaking up with me while I was lying in a hospital bed? I wasn’t the one who wanted to end this.”

She smiled, and it was filled with both sorrow and warmth. “And now what is it that you want?”

I rubbed at my forehead, trying to corral ragged thoughts. “He’s made it clear where he stands. I just need some time to get over it.”

“The heart never abandons its desire.”

Really not helpful, since my heart’s desire doesn’t desire me back.

She gently placed her hand on my hand. I could feel the warmth of her skin, but also a sort of electric vibration, her power poised and vibrant beneath her touch.

“There is more to Ryder than you know, Delaney.” Her bronze gaze burned and held me captive. Even with the Reed immunity, I felt pinned beneath the presence of her power.

I wanted to ask her what she knew. Wanted to ask her why Ryder had left me before we’d had a chance to find each other.

Wanted to ask her if maybe there was still something there, in his heart that echoed my need for him. But I could not speak.

“There is more to the push and pull of power amongst the hungry. Ordinary will play its role in the days to come. You will play your role. I do not wish to see you or your family falter.”

“Falter?”

“There is a war coming. Rising on the winds, lapping at the shores of Ordinary.”

“War?” Everything inside me went tight with panic, my broken heart momentarily set aside. War was way above my pay grade. I was trained to transfer god powers and keep the peace. I wasn’t trained to fight any kind of battle.

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“Choose your allies carefully,” she said, as she released my hand, her eyes still holding me in place. “And fight.”