Braving the Elements (Darkness #2)(7)

Anger filled me. Shaking my head and blinking, I realized that I was being led by an oblivious Charles. His thoughts weren’t bent on how wrong that term was, how immoral. Quite the opposite. It was a given.

What the hell was wrong with these people?

I sucked that thought in. I tucked it away. I didn’t know how to handle it yet, the pain of it—so I would stuff it in a new secret box. I’d thought that if I learned this stuff, earned my reputation, I’d fit in. Nowhere in that equation was stooping to being a pet human.

My chin rose as my heart fell, refusing to let that term diminish my accomplishment of sucking in elements. I’d show them I wasn’t just a stupid human. I’d learn this stuff and rock their world.

Somehow.

Chapter 2

Charles was in stitches for the rest of the class. It seemed that pulling in elements once was enough for Sasha to thoroughly figure out how to do it repeatedly. Other students, even the best, would need a few seconds of concentration before they had some magic flowing. Not Sasha. Not anymore. She couldn’t pay attention for crap, she couldn’t remember even a sentence of knowledge if she heard it, but let her work with her hands once, and she got it. Not only that, but she pulled in way too much, freaked out, and then puffed a red fog that had the ability to singe off eyebrows.

Bert had gotten less and less chipper as the class wore on. He also had less and less hair on the top of his head. It seemed Sasha could pull fire the best. Yee haw. Plus, every time she did something before Salline, the top overachiever in class, she nodded to herself. She was pitting herself against the best and keeping tabs, willing herself to be better.

Thank God, too, cause Charles was really starting to get worried. He’d heard she could turn a letter opener red when she first came here. That was a decent flow of magic. Not only that, but she had the Boss’s eye. It took a special ability to have him looking—hinting at much higher than red. But up until now, she was like every other human that someone brought around to show off: fairly useless.

But what the hell was up with that strange shadow she had going on? It was like a wispy essence of the Boss hanging around her. Every time she bent over, or looked up at him in jubilation, or did something feminine, Charles would get wood. Natural enough. Except, when he thought about trying a move, he’d get a strange scent wafting by, that kinda smelled like the Boss in the height of rage. If that didn’t deflate the ol’ sails, Charles didn’t know what would.

Great gods, Charles needed to get laid. It’d been twelve days! The crazy human had him always on his toes—he was afraid to leave her alone in case she did something stupid. Like go give the Boss the finger.

“Alright, let’s go for a ride.” Sasha stalked off toward the house in determination.

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Charles ran to catch up, unable to help a smirk at the small curl of smoke rising from Bert’s scalp. The man should’ve just backed away like everyone else. “The Boss said no to that.”

“True. And if you aren’t a snitch, we won’t get caught going against his wishes.”

“Sasha, no. No way.” Charles grabbed her arm to keep her from marching through the gate toward the parking lot. A pure shot of lightning blasted his palm.

“Ow!” He shook his hand. “Why the hell are you sparking? What are you, a mutant?”

“No. Just a pet. Or maybe that’s the same thing,” she muttered softly.

He got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that. Her chest bowed in. He’d seen people do that in the field, closing down, trying to protect their vitals. The words, quiet and deep, hinted at a profound hurt. Something more than just taking offense to that idiot Bert. Something more than indignation, or even outrage. This was something older; old haunts that stayed with her.

Charles had noticed her look of crushed bewilderment earlier. He’d seen the dark cloud settle more firmly around her shoulders. It was heavier and darker than the previous dark cloud of failure and uncertainty. It was adding weight and pressure, which might crush her chances of becoming whatever the Boss thought she could be.

The strange thing was, Sasha seemed like such a tough, street-smart girl. She would run head-first into danger with a smile on her face, but call her a pet and she broke down. There was a sensitivity there, an uncertainty of being different and cast aside, that flowed beneath the fun-loving, brash exterior. She might play at being indestructible, but she was a person underneath it all, with the same soft spots and triggers. Charles could sympathize; he was extremely young for Watch Commander, and got poked at and ridiculed constantly. He’d spent a whole year beating the crap out of people to mask his insecurity. Sasha would beat this, too, she just had to beat a few heads first.

Maybe Charles should show her how. Later, though. For right now, he would use a little charm. He’d been studying up, watching the human romance movies. A little research and voila, spread legs and a happy ending. Fail proof.

“Hey,” he said, careful not to touch her in case she blasted him with one of those hair eating fogs. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

“No. You must’ve missed that step in your pick-up routine.”

Her voice was flat. Serious, or sarcastic… It was hard to tell with her when she was in a bad mood. Probably serious—she didn’t tend to joke when she was sad.

Movie rule number one: when in doubt, apologize.