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He smoothed a hand over the table and forced the emotion out of his voice. “When I was younger, I used to hate the music my dad played in the truck. The presets were all country and classic rock. But he said it was his truck and his rules, and when I had my own truck, I could pick my own stations.”
Hunter studied him. “But that’s what you listen to when you drive.”
“It’s still his truck.”
They sat in silence for the longest time. Hunter finally said, “Is that your way of telling me we’re supposed to do what we think they’d do?”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. I spend more time wondering what he’d expect me to do. But maybe that’s the same thing.”
“Maybe.”
It wasn’t the same thing at all. Michael knew it. He had a pretty good sense that Hunter knew it, too. Michael’s father had always been pretty clear about his expectations.
Hunter’s father had never been clear about anything. At all. When Hunter had first moved here, he’d done it as an act of vengeance. His father and uncle had been killed when a rock slide crushed their car—while they were traveling to eliminate the Merricks. Hunter had been the only one to survive the wreck, and he’d assumed Michael and his brothers had been responsible.
They hadn’t been. Calla had.
Michael wondered if some of Hunter’s guilt was wrapped up in the fact that he’d once had an opportunity to kill Calla, and he hadn’t been able to pull the trigger.
“I don’t think you’d be a disappointment to your father,” he said carefully.
Hunter didn’t look at him. “When he was getting ready to come here, I wanted to come with him. He said I wasn’t ready. He asked if I’d be able to do what needed to be done if you all turned out to be a danger to the community.” He paused. “I had a chance to stop Calla once. I didn’t do it.”
“Hunter—”
Hunter looked at him, and anger was in his eyes. “You know, every time I see her, I’m reminded of that. I have to think about the fact that she admitted to killing them, and now we’re letting her run around, harming innocent people—”
“We don’t know that she’s responsible for last night.”
“She was responsible for a lot of other things.”
“I know.” Michael sighed and ran his hands down his face. “Honestly, Hunter, I don’t know if I would have been able to pull that trigger myself. She’s a kid. I’d rather turn her over to the authorities and let them deal with her. If we find her and shoot her, we’re no different from the Guides. I’m not an executioner.”
“Then turn her over to the authorities.”
“I would. In a heartbeat.” Especially after last night. Michael checked his phone again, as if there were some possibility Calla had magically texted him from a non-working number. “I don’t have any idea where she is.”
“The Guides say that everything they do to Elementals is for the greater good. Did you know that? They think it’s better to kill someone who might be a threat than to take the risk of letting them cause any damage.”
“They also think it’s fine if innocent people get caught in the crossfire. According to your mom, your father didn’t agree with any of that. He was coming here to help us.”
Hunter’s face twisted with emotion, just for a second. His voice was level. “I wish he’d made it.”
“Me too.”
The glass door slid open, and Gabriel stuck his head in. “Are you two going to start knitting, or do you want to come burn off some rage with the rest of us?”
Michael glanced at Hunter. Emotion still hung in the air, and he knew better than to poke at something fragile. “Nah, we’re all right.”
“Come on,” said Gabriel. “Who knows if we’ll ever get to play ball again?”
He dropped the serious words so casually.
Michael thought of his meeting tonight, of the secret he was keeping from his brothers.
He stood. “All right.”
Hunter didn’t move. “I’ll stay here.”
