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Deciding I’m sick of his game, I start to point out the obvious power houses, but he beats me to the punch.
“Or maybe the changer has a lot of power? Or the hybrid witch wolf who can be controlled by the Master? Or maybe your sister, who, by your own confession, doesn’t hold an ounce of the power you do. We’ll be just fine without them, Kya. I’ve saved their lives so much that it’s grown redundant and boring.”
Cocking my head, I take a step closer.
“Why do you keep saving them?” I ask, only because it’s maddening to not understand his confusing motives. “Is it because of Ella?”
His calm façade melts away at the mere mention of her name, and a muscle jumps along his jaw as he straightens to his full, intimidating height.
“It was you I came for that last time. You’re one of the few here I trust. I won’t save them again. And the next time they want to take in someone I want dead, I won’t play nice.”
That’s the only answer I get before he stalks away. I’m not sure what his definition of ‘playing nice’ is, but I’m sure it doesn’t align with their version, considering they all hate him.
They wouldn’t hate him if they understood him. Or any of us.
I wouldn’t care about them at all if my sister wasn’t with them. But she’s safer with them than with us. Though the emotions they display so candidly makes them weak, it also makes them devoutly loyal to each other.
As I walk back outside, I decide withholding the information about Chaz was the wise thing to do. He truly has saved Karma’s life, and they seem to watch out for each other.
Slade came for me when I was locked away in that cell. But deep down, I know it was truly Ella he came for. He knew she’d come... Because Ella goes to save all her friends, even though she has no control over her power and ends up endangering them more than helping them.
But she might be the only way I can convince Slade to join the circles, where the second person I fear lies in wait—the fake duster.
And that fake duster owes me a favor.
Looking around, I dematerialize from sight and head into the woods so no one can overhear me. Then I use the talk-to-text feature on my phone that Slade showed me and speak into the phone.
ME: I need a favor. You owe me.
I love the little dots it adds for me. Slade called it punctuation. That means there’s a stop in the sentence.
His response is immediate, and the phone reads it to me, including his name.
CHAZ: Name it.
I continue the process, talking into the phone again so it can turn it into a text, and it continues reading his responses to me in that robotic man’s voice.
ME: I want a meeting with Ella.
CHAZ: Name something else.
ME: It’s important. And you know I’m safe. She’s far more powerful than I am.
CHAZ: It’s not you I’m concerned with. Kane doesn’t want her anywhere around your boyfriend.
Confusion mars my brow. What boyfriend?
ME: Who?
CHAZ: The sociopath leading you.
ME: Slade is not my boyfriend.
CHAZ: But you admit he’s a sociopath?
I have no idea why I’m smi
ling. I don’t smile. Ever. But for some reason, that’s actually a little funny. I speak into the phone again, watching with fascination as it turns my spoken words into written ones. One day, maybe I’ll be able to read them.
