Page 37 of Two Who Live On

“Stop.” I hovered closer.

“I know it won’t happen”—Kenzo scoffed at Caleb—“but I hope you manage to weasel your way into the Spring Showcase.”

Caleb scowled.

“That way, I can personally show you why you don’t belong here. You do one thing right and think your dreams m—”

“That’s enough, Kenzo,” I snapped.

My mind was too broken or stilted or selfishly fixated on my own problems; I couldn’t offer anything here.

“Whatever.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled away, skipping with levitation to continue practicing his own casting. “There’s no demonic energy here anyway.”

“Are you okay?” I knelt next to Caleb.

His eyes watered, staring at the cracked pavement, which he’dbroken in anger and had no way of fixing. But that wasn’t why he teared up. I held my breath, hoping it’d wane my telepathy. Caleb believed last semester mattered. Believed it had built a bridge between him and Kenzo. More than anything, he wanted to relive so much before it disappeared. Distantly, Kenzo’s voice echoed the same, wanting to acknowledge Caleb, wanting to bury his rage, but he couldn’t. He moved forward, unwilling to sacrifice his goals for someone else.

Using telekinesis, I pulled the cracked concrete closer together. I couldn’t fix it. Not fully. It wasn’t a real fix. I wasn’t certain even a witch with perfected telekinesis could undo that damage. This took either a patch job or specialized magic. Little things like this couldn’t be repaired with root magics, and I certainly didn’t possess a branch that’d benefit healing the sidewalk.

Caleb stared at the crack, guilty and upset. Not only had he failed to keep up with Kenzo yet again, but he lacked the ability to repair what he’d broken. This broken pavement represented the tiny fractures inside Caleb, threatening to burst and collapse if he continued to fail. Threatening to continue further fracturing his broken friendship.

“Caleb, I think—”

“I’m going to find Katherine. She has my…” He swallowed hard, eyes welling up. “She’s got my notes. I need those.”

“Of course.”

“Weak. Useless.Pathetic.” Caleb hovered ahead, faltering because the constant practice with the weighted blocks ached his muscles.

At the edge of the block, Kenzo lingered.

“Don’t give up like that. You’ve got more to—” Gray static pulsed through Kenzo’s entire body, internally and externally. It did nothing to silence his thoughts, but I quelled them myself. He’d improved the effectiveness of his branch so precisely. Simply amazing.

There was so much broken between Kenzo and Caleb that I didn’t know where to begin. I was the worst person to fix these two—if they needed fixing. Milo would know. Chanelle too. Bet she didn’t endure this pain and struggle when dragging students out for this outreach program.

I sat alone, fixing the pavement while my students continued doing their best to improve their branches, roots, assistance, and every broken flaw I’d overlooked.

Did I really care? I couldn’t decide, fixated on the link developing between Milo and me. Dreams, hopes, and desires sprang forward. I doubted my intent. Was it mine?

ChapterThirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“I can only hope Cassidy’s intel is useful. The attacks have remained sparse and mostly limited given the targets, yet I doubt active demons will be content taking scraps much longer.”

And the pot on the back burner of my mind began to overflow. Milo’s thoughts circulated so triumphantly that I put all my attention on him, remaining on autopilot once I got home. He wouldn’t visit me tonight; I didn’t bother checking the buzz of my phone as he sent a phony text about being stuck in the office.

“Shit,” he mumbled as he drove toward Cassidy’s club. “If you’re linked, you know the paperwork was an autocorrect by my damn phone. I’m working a case.” Satisfied by his correction, he smirked. “If he’s not linked, he’ll never know.”

For someone who knew my telepathy better than most, he still missed catching some of those thoughts that spun through his head. Ichuckled. It was a really difficult thing to avoid a thought, even when someone was aware they were thinking it. Pesky thoughts slipped by so swiftly.

Milo walked up to Gwendolyn’s Guns & Gals and found himself immediately blocked at the entrance by Gavin, the tall, muscular guard who still wore the same scowl the last time Milo crossed his path. Milo skirted around Gavin, only to have a broad arm slung in his way.

“As someone who very much vibes off angry energy—I have a type, I know—gotta say, you’re sending me mixed signals here.” Milo grinned, unable to recall Gavin’s name, and knew full well neither his charm nor sass worked.

“Cassidy doesn’t want you here.”

“Really? Is that why she called me with the intel I inquired about?” Milo hadn’t outed her or their association. He’d seen enough potential and cemented futures of Cassidy with Gavin at her side to understand they held no secrets when it came to her business or who she did business with. However, he couldn’t say the same for her guard. Something about him was difficult to read here, yet it didn’t concern Milo.

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