“Oh shit,” Courtney whispered.
I was buzzing, itching, twitching to join in, but I held back, feeding off my best friend’s power trip. The color drained from Brandon’s already pale face, eyes bulging in horror.
“I didn’t-”
Jack pushed the bottle up, forcing Brandon’s mouth shut. “Save it, bitch-boy. I already know enough to make sure Miranda loses your number.”
My best friend stepped back, catching my eye, the tunnel yawning open.
Channeling my inner Ollie, how’d I do?
A demonic grin on my face.
Nailed it, brother.
“Everything good over here?”
Internally, I kicked myself for not noticing the newcomer approach. He didn’t match the face Miranda showed us, but there was no relief when taking him in. Eyes like pits of tar, a heavy brow giving him a permanent scowl and a thick neck sitting on top of even thicker shoulders, he squared up beside Brandon like a guard dog.
“Everything’s peachy, right Linus?” Jack taunted, raising the bottle of bourbon to his lips, grinning around the rim at Brandon, who dusted invisible lint off his chest.
“It’s fine, Ty.”
Jack smirked at Brandon’s buddy. “You look like a Ty, and that’s not a compliment.”
“It’s Tyler,” he growled, head lowering like a bull ready to charge. Inky eyes shot to me, rolling over me with purposeful slowness. If his intention was to intimidate me, it wouldn’t work. None of these idiots stood a chance against a weapon like me, let alone the whole group of us in one building.
Courtney’s hand tightened around my arm, drawing my attention back to her. Any amusement from earlier had fallen off her face, eyes narrowed at Tyler as she angled slightly in front of me. Jack noticed her stance instantly, the smirk morphing into a snarl again.
“Come on, Ty, I need a refill,” Brandon said, gripping his friend’s beefy shoulder. Reluctantly, Tyler allowed Brandon to pull him towards the kitchen, those bottomless black eyes shooting over his shoulder one last time.
I lifted my chin in a silent dare.
Jack cut in front of me, “What fucking dickweeds,” he grumbled. Courtney swiped the bourbon from my best friend, pouring way too much down. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she leveled a glare back at us.
“I’m stressed, okay?”
Jack’s hands flew up in surrender and I grinned down at her, the tension of the encounter slowly dissolving. But as soon as I started to settle, my phone buzzed. Courtney’s lit up in her hand. Jack whipped his out of his pocket.
We got a text.
Miranda: Help.
31
Courtney
Whoknewthatfourletters could inflict all-consuming fear?
Pins and needles erupted from the center of my chest, skin too hot- too cold. The room drained to white noise, not even the shattering bottle and a spray of expensive liquor could penetrate. A hand circled my wrist, ice blue eyes, flickering silver seared into me.
“Don’t you dare leave my side.”
His words were slowed and reverbed. I nodded, allowing him to drag me after Jack, who was taking the stairs two at a time. On numb legs, I floated up, Ollie’s hand firmly gripping mine, pulling me along.
“When you get him, send the text: Contained, and give your location,” Ollie explained. “If your gift isn’t enough, or if one of you is injured, text the group for help immediately. Don’t try to be heroes.”
“M doesn’t know how to spell the word, help,” Jack teased, elbowing his sister. She rolled her eyes. The severity in Ollie’s glare bore into her.
