Page 56 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Vega slid down the wall, feet meeting the floor as Bridger turned at the familiar voice. His dark gaze landed on the golden eyes of his best friend. “Meyer.” Bridger would have sighed in relief if it weren’t for the flames dancing in Meyer’s free hand, the other wrapped in Arlet’s hair to hold her in place next to him.

“Let her go!” Vega lunged forward, wasting no time with crackles of lightning sputtering to life in her palms. Meyer used Arlet as a shield, putting her between him and Vega.

“Call off your shirtless guard dog, B.” His voice gave away the smile forming on his lips.

Bridger bent down, grabbing his black shirt off the floor to toss to Vega. “Let her go, Meyer.” Bridger stepped forward, shifting closer to Vega in case she decided to lunge for Meyer’s throat next. It wouldn't be the first time.

“I just came here to talk, and this little bitch”—he spat the word—“stabbed me.”

Bridger finally noticed the blood on his shirt, right under his ribcage. The wound was almost completely healed already.

Pride swelled in Bridger’s chest at the idea of Arlet using the skills he’d been slowly training her in over the last few years.

“And I’d do it again for what you did to Khort,” Arlet yelped, twisting in his grasp. Her hands were around Meyer’s wrist, trying to pry his grip off.

“Oh, relax, I just knocked him out. He’ll be back up and ready to choke me out again in no time.” Meyer tightened his grip on her hair.

Vega moved with such swiftness Bridger had no time to react, making his move closer to her completely useless when it mattered. Bridger didn’t reach for Vega first; he knew that would be superfluous and Meyer could hold his own for a bit. Bridger helped steady Arlet, who’d been dropped like a ragdoll in Meyer’s attempt to get ahead of Vega.

A bolt of Vega’s ice-blue lightning shot across the room and burned an already ragged curtain to ash. Meyer ducked with less than a second to spare.

“Go check on Khort. I’ve got these two,” Bridger told Arlet after assuring she was unharmed. He turned to the scuffling fools in the living area, the room heating to an uncomfortable degree from the swell of Meyer’s ability. “Meyer, you better apologize, or she’s going to kill you.” Bridger crossed his arms over his bare chest lazily.

The two had never seen eye to eye, differing on too many topics to keep track of, but recently, it felt like Vega and Meyer might be turning over a new leaf—that had gone to Hades quickly with Meyer’s surprise visit.

“I don’t want an apology. I want to stab him too.” Vega had turned into a vengeful little thing over the last thirty hours. Bridger smiled, watching her in awe.

“Bring it on.” Meyer didn’t know when to stop sometimes.

Vega ducked to the floor, her leg sweeping out in front of her with a spin, knocking Meyer onto his back. Vega stood over him, her control of storms cracking a thunderous rumble through the cabin, mixing with Meyer’s blaze. Their powers made the room feel like a summer day before a thunderstorm.

“Okay, Kitten. I think you’ve proven your point.” Bridger moved forward, standing behind her, his hand hovering over her shoulder. He didn’t dare touch her while her lightning prickled over her skin—she was a live wire.

Vega looked back at Bridger. “You heard what he said he did to Khort, and he called Arlet a bitch.” She talked through gritted teeth.

Meyer sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had knocked against the wooden floors. “That’s because she is.”

“You’re pushing your luck,” Bridger said, holding his hand out to help his friend up. Vega’s death glare had yet to fade. “You better get to talking before she fries you, or worse, stabs you and leaves you to bleed out this time.”

Vega sported a promising smile at Bridger’s words.

“I’m not going to be the only one gutted if you don’t cut this shit out, Bridger.” Meyer kept his eyes on Vega, only shooting his attention to Bridger once her sparks of lightning fizzled out.

Khort and Arlet started stirring in the bedroom, and Vega gave in—for now. “You better hope he’s okay, or I’ll feed your corpse to the wolves.” Her eyes flicked to Bridger, who nodded for her to give him and Meyer a minute alone.

“What do you mean?” Bridger asked, still standing with his arms crossed.

“You know where you belong during a war, and it’s not with them,” Meyer scolded.

Bridger’s eyebrows rose, jaw dropping slightly. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’ve been training for this our entire lives. We knew something like this would happen. We knew the role we would play.”

“This is not what we were training for. Not for the slaughter of good people,” Bridger scoffed.

Meyer blew a laugh from his nose. “You think becoming your father’s replacement would come without bloodshed? You think he’d give up his position, step down, to what? To live out the rest of his life in peace? Come on, Bridger. You know he wanted more power. Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

“Not like this.” Bridger’s response sagged out of his chest, remorse rising.

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