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“It’s illusion. It’s very mysterious. I’ve never met anyone else with it.” Aside from her mom, but she didn’t feel like talking about Athene. Talking about her felt like summoning her, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I’ve never heard of that before. Is it hard?”
“Not really. I just have to picture the illusion I want to cast, and then it’s there. I’ve been doing it since I was a little girl, so it’s kind of second nature to me. Like riding a bike or tying my shoes.”
Loren glanced at the door again.
“You’re very special yourself,” Shay said. “Every color magic is pretty impressive.”
“Thanks, but it doesn’t feel like it. Not when I can’t even use it.” She stared down at her open palms—the tattoos on them.
“Are those conduits?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t used them yet. Is that one?” She gestured to Shay’s—the fish skeleton tattoo.
“It is.”
“Any tips for when I use them?” She looked again at the sun and moon inked on her palms.
“As soon as you feel your magic waking up, concentrate on the feel of your hands. Steer your magic toward the tattoos, if that makes sense.”
Loren nodded. “I think it does.” She tucked her feet under her and laced her fingers in her lap.
Shay’s immortal hearing picked up on a male shouting.
She stiffened, her head turning toward the door.
Another shout ripped through the house. And when Loren’s head turned this time, Shay knew this one was very loud if a mortal could hear it.
Loren whispered, “Was that Darien?”
“Where’d your little fucktoy go, Darien?” Blaine asked, his cocky tone suggesting he knew exactly what kind of fight he was picking.
Darien stilled.
“She coming back down?” Blaine continued, a threat gleaming in his eyes. “Or is she too good for us?”
Darien stalked up to him. “The fuck did you just say?”
Blaine held his arms out in challenge. “What? She is your fucktoy, isn’t she? The only thing half-life girls like her are good for.”
Darien pushed him so hard, he staggered back three paces. “Get out.”
“Don’t push me.”
“I’ll do much worse than push you,” Darien snarled. He shoved him again, and this time he staggered four paces. “You gonna do something, or just stand there and get pushed?” He shoved him again. Blaine nearly fell.
Larina rushed forward. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, he was just making a joke—”
“No, he fucking wasn’t,” Darien said without looking at her. He closed the distance between him and Blaine and pointed at the doors. “Get out.”
“This isn’t your house,” Blaine barked.
“You’re right,” Roman said, stepping up to Darien’s side. “It’s mine. And I say get the hell out.”
Thick silence fell. Blaine and Larina glanced among the group.
“You guys have overstayed your welcome,” Jack chimed in, rifle still in hand. His finger teased the trigger. “And you are majorly outnumbered.”
