Roar (Stormheart #1)(90)
“Exactly. I don’t know why you’re laughing. Your girl might not be able to start earthquakes, but she won’t let you keep her out of the action either.”
Locke cringed. “You didn’t see her when that thunderstorm hit. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and dropped in the dirt just watching her. There is nothing worse than seeing her cry, but that … that was a great deal more than crying.” Belatedly, he tacked on, “And she’s not my girl.”
The clop of horses’ hooves drew their attention to the road ahead. Locke recognized Jinx first as she climbed from her horse and tied it up outside the inn. Beside her he guessed was Roar, but she was covered in drying mud—it was plastered on her clothes and smeared across her cheeks and forehead.
When they were within hearing distance, Locke called, “What did Jinx do—throw you into a mudslide?”
Roar looked up from the post where she’d been tying her horse with the widest smile he had ever seen her give. The sight of her, even when filthy, made him feel like she’d punched a hole through his chest and then decided to stay and stake her claim, vital organs pushed aside to make room. She called out his name and then began running toward him at full speed.
“Not your girl, huh?” Ransom said.
A few seconds later Roar slammed into his body, knocking him back a few steps. He chuckled, and her face pressed into his chest, arms winding about his middle. She smeared mud everywhere she touched. He pretended to complain, but she laughed and wiped more muck on him on purpose.
“I take it today went well?”
She stepped back to grin up at him, and he beat back the urge to drag her into his arms for just a few more moments.
“It was wonderful. I mean … exhausting and a little messy.” She looked down at her dirty clothes and laughed. “But just … perfect. Exactly what I needed.”
He looked over her head at an approaching Jinx and said, “She’s never this happy after any of our training sessions. You must not be pushing her hard enough.”
Roar just collected a little more mud from her clothes and smeared it on his cheek. When he lunged like he was going to retaliate, she squeaked and bolted toward Jinx.
“Quick. Do one of those wall things,” she said to Jinx, and the witch laughed.
Locke lifted his brows in question and Jinx said, “I put her through an earth-magic obstacle course during a thunderstorm. She went through it twice as fast as Bait.”
The corners of Locke’s mouth twitched up. “Of course she did.” Roar smiled widely, and their eyes met. Hers were soft, and he could die a happy man if she kept looking at him like that. So of course his stupid mouth had to tack on, “Because I trained her.”
She rolled her eyes, and said, “I think I learned more from Jinx in one day than I have from you in several weeks.”
“Is that so?”
“I think it might be.”
He stalked a little closer, passing by Jinx, and said to Roar, “How long did it take you to go through the obstacle course?”
“No more than a quarter of a bell.”
He whistled. “That’s good. But if you’re caught in a storm you might need to last longer than a quarter of a bell.”
“I can.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. Jinx is an excellent teacher.”
A laugh rumbled up in his chest. He had forgotten how much fun it was to play with her. Since that day they’d wrestled in the river, he had done his best to avoid it, but no more. “We’ll see just how much you can handle when I’m training you again.”
Roar hesitated, the playful spell breaking as her head tilted to the side. “You are not passing me off to Jinx permanently?”
He felt like that question knocked the air out of him. “Would you rather stay with her?” Her eyes flicked behind him, and he turned to look for Jinx, but both she and Ransom were no longer there. They must have gone inside, leaving Locke and Roar in the street as twilight fell. “Would you?” he asked again. “I would not hold it against you. Jinx is good. She would be good for you.”
“If you don’t mind working with me, I like the way you … push me.” He knew she was talking about training, but that did not stop the heavy thump of his heart against his rib cage. She continued: “I mean, it would be nice to still work with Jinx on occasion. Her earth magic makes for a really interesting challenge. But … I don’t want to have any doubts the first time I stand in front of a storm’s heart. And I think my best chance to do that is with you.”
“Even though we argue?”
Her mouth twitched. “Even though we argue.”
*
Nova smelled the sweet scent of wildflowers, and a breeze tickled through her hair. The earth was warm beneath her bare feet and the sun baked her skin until sweat beaded along the back of her neck. She should go inside or her skin would burn. She swallowed, and sweat tracked from her forehead over her cheeks.
Can’t burn.
Cool. Think cool thoughts.
A breeze. The shower of rain upon her skin. Dark shadows.
No, not shadows either. Light. Think of light.
Sweat burned in her eyes, and her hands shook with the effort of pretending.
Can’t burn, Nova. Don’t. Burn.
Metal clanged, pulling her out of her reverie and into the stifling hot cell. The door opened just enough for a tray of food to be slid inside, then it was locked once more. She turned back to the window, too hot to care about the hunger gnawing in her belly. It had turned cold outside. She knew that. But in this tiny stone cell with one door and one window, she felt like she was cellmates with the sun. There was too much magic inside her. It wanted out.