Page 20 of Cyclone

“Good enough,” I muttered, sliding down onto the floor against one wall.

Cyclone crouched beside me, pulling a canteen from his gear and handing it over.

“Drink,” he said simply.

I obeyed. Water had never tasted so good. It always seemed better when he handed me his canteen.

The others set about securing the cabin, posting lookouts, setting traps in case we had unwanted visitors.

Cyclone stayed near me.

“You did good back there,” he said after a while.

I shook my head. “I almost got us killed.”

“We made it. That’s what matters.”

I looked at him then, really looked—the set of his jaw, the steadiness in his eyes. I hadn’t asked for him to come after me. Hadn’t asked for anyone.

But he had.

And right now, it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

“Thank you,” I whispered, the words scraping out of me like broken glass.

He just nodded, like he understood how much it cost me to say it.

Thunder rolled again, closer this time. The rain picked up, hammering against the roof. Cyclone leaned back against the wall beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched.

Neither of us said anything for a long time.

Outside, the storm raged.

Inside, for just a little while, there was peace.

11

Jude

It didn’t last.

I must have dozed, lulled by the relentless drumming of the rain against the roof. When I snapped awake, the fire was dying low, casting the room in long, flickering shadows. My muscles tensed before I was even fully conscious.

Something was wrong.

I pushed myself up slowly, scanning the cabin. Cyclone was awake, crouched near the window, his entire body still but coiled tight, like a spring ready to snap.

He glanced at me and put a finger to his lips.

Movement outside.

I didn’t need to see it to feel it. The air had shifted—a pressure at the back of my skull, that old survival instinct roaring to life.

Cyclone tapped his earpiece, murmuring something too low for me to catch. Across the room, two members of the Golden Team—Tag and River—began silently packing up what little gear we’d unpacked.

“We can’t stay,” Cyclone mouthed to me.

I nodded once.

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