Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(7)

Now? She would call right now?

I stared at the picture, a heavy need to talk to her temporarily clouding the fear of where Talon and I had been heading.

“You should answer that.”

“But, Talon,” I began, my voice laced with a whine.

“Stay here. Talk to Jos. She needs you.” I could only nod. I wanted to say that he needed me too, but I couldn’t. He was right. I wasn’t very happy.

Talon ignored my surliness and leaned down to kiss me, a soft peck on my lips his sweet goodbye.

“You will be back, right?” I asked trying to put a laugh on my lips, but the way he had spoken was making me uncomfortable.

“I was raised to protect my people, my King, and now my wife. I will return, Wyn, don’t worry.” He smiled before he left, his eyes shining with his promise.

I smiled at him as he left, before turning back toward our room, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Jos!” I yelled into the phone as I made my way back down the hall. “Oh please tell me you are okay! I’ve been so worried since Talon told me what happened. Then you didn’t call me at all yesterday.” I really wanted to yell at her, berate her for not calling me sooner, but I was so happy she was calling in the first place that a little berating could wait until later.

“I knew I should have gone with you!” I continued when she said nothing. It’s not as if I gave her a chance, which is probably why she cut me off. “This never would have happened if I had…”

“It would have happened either way, Wyn,” she interrupted, our voices overlapping a bit. “If you were here, you would have gotten hurt too.”

“Too?” I practically screeched. “You got hurt?”

“Nothing a little magic can’t fix.” I breathed out like I had been holding my breath my entire life, my exhale loud and obnoxious.

“I can still come out if you want. An extra pair of hands doesn’t hurt,” I said as I moved into an old, empty bedroom, fully aware I was practically begging.

“No!” I jumped as she screamed in my ear, her panic taking me off guard. “Stay where you are. You’ll only get hurt if you get too close to me.”

What was that about? She was talking about herself as if she were a curse. I would have rolled my eyes and laughed at her, but I could hear the stress and the nerves in the undertones of her voice. Something had happened, something more than just being attacked.

“Joclyn?” I asked, my worry guiding my voice forward whether I wanted it to or not. “What are you saying? I’m not going to get hurt.”

“I don’t want to risk anything. People seem to get hurt around me.”

I heard her sigh, and my heart broke just a little for her. Even though I felt like we were close, she had never genuinely opened up to me. I wanted her to do so now. I needed her to, for her sake.

“Is Ilyan okay?”

“He’s fine,” her voice was dead, belligerent, and lonely... So lonely.

What had happened? The last time I had talked to her, she and Ilyan had almost been buddy-buddy. Joclyn got away with more around him than even Talon. I had never known anyone to yell at him to put on a shirt and stop leaving hair in the shower only for him to laugh. Maybe that is what she had needed, a friend. If Ilyan had been one for her before the attack, the stress of the situation must have zapped that out of him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come out?” I asked again, careful to let just enough cheer into my voice, hoping to zap her buzz-kill attitude.

“I’m sure, but can you do something for me?”

“Sure! What’s up?” I responded playfully, I would have jumped off a bridge at her request right then (but only because I can fly). I was ready for whatever she was going to lay on me. What she actually laid down on me though was surprising.

“Sing me a Styx song.” I laughed aloud. I couldn’t help it. Joclyn not only liked crappy music like Katy Perry, she also never listened to music for the joy of it. I would have liked to believe I had magically converted her to good music (aka 70s music), but I doubted that was the case.

“You’re a dork,” I managed to squeak out through a laugh.

“I can’t help it. You’ve got me addicted,” She pleaded. Nope, sorry, babe, I still don’t believe you.

“Addicted to Styx?” I asked.

“Yep.”

Fine, prove it.

“Alright then, when was their first album released?” If the girl was going to lie to me, she needed a test, okay a trial by fire, but whatever.

“1840.”

I laughed so hard I might have broken the phone’s mouthpiece. 1840 really? I guess when she lies she goes for the blatantly obvious ‘I’m a funny moron’ lies.

“Liar.” I taunted once my laughter had died down.

“Come on, Wyn; just sing me one of their stupid songs.” No way had she said that. No freakin’ way. This girl deserved a full on beating. I stood before I was aware of it, my feet pacing me around the room in my agitation.

“I thought you said you liked them?” I snapped, unable to keep my own irrational response at bay.

It took me a moment to realize that her voice had jumped back to the distraught tone she had started with. She was stressed, alone, scared and had just been attacked, presumably by Ryland. God, Ryland had attacked her, and I hadn’t even asked her about it. I felt like the world's bottom of the bar worst friend right now. I didn’t know how to make up for that. Well, yes I did. I didn’t ask. I didn’t apologize. I just sang her a Styx song. It was not my favorite of their songs, but it was a good one, and one I hoped would help her. After all, the lyrics were far and away awesome.