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“Great,” Pocus replies, tightening his hold on the guard’s collar. He jerked the guy forward until they were almost nose to nose. “You tell Anderson he has exactly twenty-four hours to think about whether he wants me as his worst nightmare. And you make sure he gets the message properly this time. Or else, I’ll find you, slice off your tongue and feed it to you just for kicks.”
The poor guy swallows nervously and glances at me like he’s asking for help. I meet his gaze, keeping my face expressionless. He gulps and returns his attention back to Pocus. “Y… yes, sir.”
It may have been an overreaction, but that smug guard is suddenly a lot more helpful.
All it took was one resetting punch from Pocus.
“What’s your name, officer?” Pocus asks.
The guy momentarily looked taken aback, but he was quick to recover. “Murray.”
“Fuck you, Officer Murray,” Pocus says, shoving the guard away from him with a sneer.
Poor Murray takes off like a scared cat, and before I can blink, he’s already disappeared quickly behind the huge iron gate of the state prison.
I turn to face Pocus. “Do you think this will work?”
He lets out a solemn sigh. “It has to.”
* * *
It’s a beautiful evening. The air is crisp, and the sun is nowhere in sight. I couldn’t agree more with Evanesce when she said there’s no better way to spend it than watching a bunch of brawny, tattooed men throwing a ball around while flaunting their delicious muscles and six-pack abs. Unfortunately, I’m watching a game whose rules I know nothing about.
Pocus and the others had made a makeshift shade where Abigail, Evanesce, and I were lying pretty on the sun loungers. It’s nice to have a group of vigorous men around. Buffy has a passion for mixology, and he’s whipped us up delicious cocktails. I don’t know who suggested transforming the huge space behind the clubhouse into a temporary vacation spot, but it was a great idea. We all needed this break from the intensity of the past couple of weeks. Maybe I can’t talk for the others, but I really needed to chill out and just breathe. I’ve literally been losing sleep over my ma’s relationship with Edward Abner, her mission in Cornwall, England, and how this whole thing is related to some crazy bastard who almost fucked Pocus up three years ago. I can’t help but wonder what ma’s role was in all of this.
What if she’d been desperate enough to do something really terrible? Was it guilt that drove her to insanity?
I’ve had to contend with these questions circling in my head without answers. And, amidst all of this, I’ve had to deal with the foreign emotions that are associated with being around Seer. It’s not like I can avoid him when we sleep and eat under the same roof.
I’ve been thinking about him a lot these days.Too much.
It’s the first time I’ve felt this way about anybody, and I have no idea what to do with the things I feel for him. It’s hard enough for me to deal with basic emotions, and now I have to try to figure out a thousand new ones all at once. Sometimes, I ache for him to come and take me for himself, and other times, I want him out of my space, taking with him the barrage of confusing emotions he makes me feel. It’s been a hell of an emotional rollercoaster for me. So overwhelming that I was at risk of being submerged.
Watching him now, though, I feel oddly at peace.
I watch him dribble past Hex and pass the ball to Pocus, who kicks it straight into the opposition’s net. Seer fist bumps Pocus with a loud whoop.
I’ve never seen him look so carefree…boyish,almost.
I commit everything to memory–the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, the exhilaration in his expression, and the twinkle in his lively blue eyes.
Everything about this moment mesmerizes me.
“I feel so good after taking that concoction you made for me,” Abigail says from her place to my right.
“I’ve never felt this light since I entered my second trimester. Makes me wonder where you’ve been my whole life,” she says with a breezy laugh.
I turn to look at her with a small smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Abigail nods and takes in a deep breath before returning her attention to the men’s show. “This is nice. Pocus has all of my attention, though.”
“As Knix mine,” Evanesce says with a quiet snicker. She turns her head to look at me with a slightly curious smile. “And Tory can’t seem to look away from Seer, either.”
I blink rapidly at her in surprise. “What?”
It’s Abigail’s turn to smile at me. Her brows arched teasingly. “He looks at you the same way, you know?”
I look from one smiling woman to the other. They both have similar expectant expressions as they wait for me to address their pointed accusations.
