Page 104 of Roaring Flames

He goes so far as to lick his lips.

Emery growls low in his throat.

“I was curious to see the woman my sister hates so much. But I have to be honest… You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” I cock my hip to the side.

“For one, you’re not as ugly as my sister described.”

“Geez. Thanks.” I roll my eyes.

“For two, you’re not as…human as she described either.” His eyes gleam like onyx stones as he ventures a step forward. Curiosity blankets his face. “What are you?”

Unease slithers in my stomach like a serpent. “I’m human.”

“Yes, you are,” he agrees easily. “But you’re something else too. Something…other.”

“And she’s hanging around one of ours,” a boy I don’t recognize interjects. He jerks his chin in Ansel’s direction. “I can sense the magic in him.”

All six of them turn to stare at Ansel, and my friend takes a step back automatically, his face leaching of color.

Dyson cocks his head to the side. His eyes glaze over, shining like someone lit a candle beneath the surface, and he gives Ansel a cold once-over. It’s not lecherous like the one he granted me.

“Interesting,” he murmurs as the glow recedes from his eyes. “Very, very interesting.” He turns towards the twins, his smile more of a baring of teeth than anything genuine. “Would you like to explain to us why you have an unregistered warlock hanging around you? Because I’m positive the Trinity would love to hear about this.”

Forty

ANSEL

Acombination of fear and panic seizes the air in my lungs.

Unregistered warlock?

What is he talking about?

I know I have these…powers, but I’ve never been given a name for what I am. Even my mother has been evasive when I asked about it.

Is he saying…?

I think I’m going to be sick.

I wait for Izzy to tell him he’s insane, to laugh in his face, but she goes very still. Slowly, she swivels her head to stare at me.

“What is he talking about, Ansel?” Her voice is low.

A tinny, mechanical voice in the back of my head warns me to proceed with caution.

“I…I don’t know,” I stutter out.

“That’s probably the truth.” The asshole—Dyson—chuckles, though his eyes hold no amusement. “I imagine he’s just as confused as the rest of us.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a single step forward. “Tell me… I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.”

None of us respond to him. Emery and Ethan are coiled tight with tension, and Izzy just appears pissed. And me? I’m trying to get my racing heart under control. It tripled in speed the second he used the word “warlock” in casual conversation.

“You look like a Bart to me. Can I call you Bart?” He cants his head to the side, and his pitch-black hair reflects in the moonlight.

Again, none of us respond.

“Tell me, Bart, are you able to do things that no one else can? Things that seem impossible?” His gaze flicks to Izzy for a fraction of a second before refocusing on me. “Say…healing people?”

---