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“Get up, slacker. Don’t you have a marathon to run at the end of the month?”
Hunter tried to jerk free of the sleeping bag. It wasn’t even four thirty in the morning—and he hadn’t drifted off until after two. “God, are you insane?”
Gabriel was already heading out the door. “Be grateful I didn’t light you on fire.”
“I’m going to break your ankles.”
“Have to catch me first, jackass.”
But the run felt good, getting out of the house and feeling the fresh air on his face.
Even if Gabriel didn’t talk much.
It made Hunter wonder how much of his conversation with Nick had been repeated.
Probably all of it.
There’d been breakfast, a selection of cereals like Lucky Charms and Cookie Crisp. When he’d asked for fruit or eggs, they all looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
They weren’t mean. They weren’t indifferent.
They were just guarded.
It was exhausting.
By the time school started, he was ready to focus his attention on something else, no matter how mundane the subject.
But then he found Calla Dean by her locker—looking innocent as ever, applying lip gloss. As usual, she looked like a punk sex goddess, tight jeans, an almost see-through shirt, and black rubber bracelets lining her arms, crisscrossing over the flame tattoos. Feather earrings, a bright yellow streak in her hair.
His fists were tight at his sides, but he couldn’t approach her.
He’d gotten a lecture from Michael this morning. If you’re staying here, you go to school, and you stay out of trouble. We don’t need attention right now. Understand?
“Hunter.”
He turned at the soft voice and found Becca standing there, a spill of dark hair hanging over one shoulder. For the first time in a long while, her voice was gentle, and her eyes were intent on his.
She’d been the first girl he noticed in this school, the first one who didn’t look at him like something to eat—or something to despise. He hadn’t been able to parcel out the Merrick brothers’ powers at first, but hers—hers, he’d sensed from the beginning.
“Hey,” he said.
“Are you okay?”
He glanced past her. “I’ve been better.”
“Chris told me about your grandfather.”
Hunter gritted his teeth. “Yeah, well. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”
Calla had put her lip gloss away and was staring at them now. She tapped her wrist and mouthed, “Tick tock.”
Hunter sighed. “Come on. Before Calla causes a scene.”
Becca followed him, and her voice was low. “Chris said she’s threatening to start more fires?”
“Yeah.”
Becca’s eyes hardened. “And we can’t just take her out ourselves?”
