Page 12 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

“Always one more,” Spyne said in his cool voice. “I can feel you’re struggling with something.”

Mother be, he was so fucking cool.

Huxley didn’t answer.

Maybe I wasn’t as polite as I liked to think because I didn’t let them know I’d arrived.

Spyne sighed. “When I saw you in that demon’s arms… I didn’t lose you that night, miraculously, and I refuse to lose you another way. I won’t allow you to push me away either. Not when I can see you want to do the opposite. I see you, Hux, and I want to help you. Please talk to me.”

Huxley replied after a beat, “I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I don’t want to be an asshole, and then I go and act like one anyway.”

“I’m not disputing that. I’m more interested in the reason behind that behavior.”

I was learning to appreciate the grimoire tendency to go to the heart of the matter more and more.

“I nearly lost the coven for all of us,” Huxley blurted. “I was arrogant. I shouldn’t have gone to the other gate. Then I wouldn’t have been used against you all. We would have been in a more powerful position.”

“A one-on-one battle was the best position we could have been in,” Spyne said quietly. “You could look at what happened from many different perspectives.”

Huxley was silent.

Okay, at this arbitrary point, I felt bad about listening in.

I knocked.

There was a hushed silence, and then Spyne swung the door wide.

His smile disappeared at the sight of me. “High Esteemed Tempest.”

“Spyne, how are you?”

He tilted his head, and his ink-black curtain of hair swayed with the action. “Curious.”

Curious about you, he seemed to be saying.

Couldn’t blame the guy. He’d been privy to some interesting conversations between our group, and so far Huxley had opted to keep him on the outs. In short, Spyne was aware there was more going on. I could feel he was as suspicious as he was grateful about what had happened with me saving Huxley. I appreciated him settling for curiosity in the meantime instead of distrust.

“Naturally,” I answered. “I hope to assuage that curiosity one day.”

He crossed his arms. “I look forward to it.”

I peered past him to the person sitting with a slumped posture on the bed. “Hux, stop feeling sorry for yourself. It wasn’t your fault you got jumped.”

Huxley scowled. “Eavesdropping is rude.”

“Not if I tell you I was eavesdropping.”

Spyne shot me a glance. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Maybe not. “Your decision to go to the other gate could have worked. It’s only because it failed that you feel this way. This is about failure, isn’t it. Why?”

“Because I failed, obviously,” he snapped. “The rest of the coven is standing there, ready to wage war. You’re probably looking like a warrior queen from the pits of hell, and then there’s helpless Huxley on the ground, out for the count.”

Spyne’s mouth formed an O. “You didn’t like appearing powerless.”

“That’s not what I’m saying” came the withering reply.

It was. Spyne could work on that. I wasn’t paid enough to deal with Huxley’s issues.

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