Page 118 of Anchor

At least the other was slowly pushing the screen door back to get inside.

“And we also sent you your friend to help you get out—that wasus,” said Jam when the door closed and he leaned against the wall, then looked at his brother. “Got one?”

Jim then threw something at him from across the kitchen. “Light’s inside.”

I was in awe of their interaction and watched, dumbfounded, as Jam pulled out a cigarette from the pack and lit it, then dragged the smoke with his eyes closed like he was having the time of his life. Like he couldn’t see my gun pointed at his face.

And it wasn’t just because they knew me and they knew I wouldn’t hurt them—they didn’t. They’d have done the same with anybody else, and I didn’t know whether to congratulate them on their bravery or to laugh at their stupidity.

I chose violence instead. It was the only way these boys were going to take me seriously.

As much as I’d have liked to use my magic pain free, I wouldn’t dare show the twins colorful magic for fear of who they would tell. So, I chanted a spell and I chose my ring to lead my magic, which strangely almost felt like it wascomplaining,like it wanted to be released through the bracelet instead, like it had already connected to it and it knew how much easier it flowed through it.

Either way, I whispered and forced it toward my ring, sending a powerful blow of air to hit Jim straight in the face, while I slammed the butt of my gun right on the side of Jam’s head.

“What the fuck?!” said Jim, cigarette on the floor as he struggled to breath against the current.

“You’re crazy—you’re fucking crazy!” cried Jam, holding his bleeding head with only one hand because he refused to let go of his cigarette even now.

It was just a scratch because I hadn’t used my full strength, but I stepped back and said, “Yeah, I am. I’m fucking crazy. And if I don’t get what I want, I’m going to set these on fire first…” I leaned back and touched their staffs on the dining table. “And then I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jim said when he bent over to grab his cigarette again. “You just want to scare us, and I get it. But wecan’ttell you the truth.”

Gritting my teeth, I raised my hand and called for a fire spell, first-degree, very fast. “Don’t test me.”

Iwouldset their staffs on fire, even if I wouldn’t kill them.

“Just chill, Rosabel.Chill,” said Jam, and I almost lost it again.

I could drag this on and on, could tell him tonottell me to fucking chill, that that might the worst thing you can possibly say to a person when they’re pissed—so fucking patronizing!

But if I did that, we’d be here till sunrise, so I just got straight to the point instead.

“Whydid you lie about that catfairie?” I said slowly. “You were there. You saw that Michael and Erid tried to kill me. Why did you lie?”

The boys clamped their mouth shut and gave each other a look.

I didn’t hesitate—I grabbed the first staff in my still burning hand and watched the flames spread up to the tip of it as fast as magical flames do.

Now they screamed—no, don’t, what are you doing, stop it, let my staff go, get out of our house, stop-stop-stop!

I stopped before the flames could consume the staff completely, and I pulled the magic back inside me again.

“How about now? Are you going to talk now?” The brothers, now pissed, took a step closer to me. I knew they were IDD agents, and they could fight (though not well) but they also had no weapons on their person and I had a gun, and they couldn’t use magic on me because I had their staffs.

And most importantly—they were drunk.

“We can’t tell you anything,” Jim said, although he knew all those things just as well as I did.

“Wecan’t,” Jam emphasized.

“Why not?” I asked, the staff still in my hand, and when they exchanged another look between their bloodshot eyes, I raised it a little. “Why not?!”

At this rate they were going to drive me crazy for real. And a part of me thought that maybe I didn’t have to do this, waste all this time, just have them put me in touch with Cassie and be done with it, but I couldn’t. I needed to know, damn it. It felt like I was up to my neck in secrets, and they were going to drown me soon.

“Because they’ll kill us,” said Jim. “They’ll kill us, Rosabel.”

“Whowill kill you?” They said nothing. “In case you didn’t get the memo, I am a fugitive now. I am not going back, nor am I ever going to tell anybody whatever you tell me.” Because if I stuck to threats only, it wasn’t going to work half as well as I’d hoped.

---