Page 31 of Amethyst Flame
When he cast a sidelong glance at Swann, she glared at him too. “No secrets from BFFs ever,” she informed him.
I beamed at her, and we clinked bottles.
He crossed his arms over his chest, the still-full bottle dangling beneath one elbow. “These are issues of national importance. Some of them anyway.”
“Allthese issues are important to Imogen,” Swann said in a tone so clipped it was like she’d taken scissors to it. “I’d think someone with aspirations to secret agenting would understand that assets need to be properly valued.”
I grinned at Swann and then pursed my lips at Jacob. “Yeah. What she said.”
Even in the low-aimed mood lighting around the garden, the flush on his face glowed. “Dane would say—”
“Dane ain’t here, is he?” I snapped my fingers at the six-pack on the wall next to him. “Now practice valuing your asset.”
With a snort, he popped the cap off another bottle and handed it over. “Take it easy, EldWitch.”
“Not sure I can get drunk anymore. The moths burn through it like…fire.” I snapped my fingers again, this time conjuring amethyst sparkles.
Swann gasped. “Beautiful. It doesn’t burn?” She leaned forward to grab my left hand, turning it over with close scrutiny and rubbing her thumb over the X scar where the molecular robots had infected me.
“Not anymore,” I assured her. “I’m getting better with them.”
Jacob scowled. “You shouldn’t waste it.”
Holding his gaze hard, I drained the second beer—and then slammed the bottle down on the paver below me. The glass shattered…and when I formed my EldWitch [gather] spell, the moths flowed out around the shards, fountaining them up into a whirlwind of amethyst flame. Another flicker of my fingers with the [shove] command crushed the broken glass back together in mid-air. Spinning in the air and in my mind, fixing the bottle wasn’t that different from the graphic design rendering I’d been doing in class—or the way I’d envisioned the new hive tech Dane had shown me.
“Not wasted yet,” I murmured as I plucked the remelted glass out of the fading purple cloud.
I puffed a breath over the dusty shape, gave it a little shine on the hem of my Freeze shirt, and held it out to Swann. The facets were shaped into a tiny butterfly. “Maybe I could sell them at the mall.”
She hesitated, staring at me. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”
“On power,” Jacob muttered.
“You didn’t care when I was using my powers for you,” I reminded him. I tossed the darkly glistening glass to Swan—which she caught, of course, because it was pretty.
Jacob pushed off the low wall and relocated to the end of Swann’s chaise. At his gesture, she passed the butterfly to him. “No need to resort to retail. If you need money, ask Dane,” he said, peering at the rock. He tossed the butterfly lightly between his hands as if wondering if it would fly again.
Swann snatched the amethyst from mid-air. “Mo, you have a good heart. Trust it. And don’t open yourself up to anyone who has ulterior motives just because it would beinteresting.”
Jacob, being Jackhole, smirked at her. “Everyone has ulterior motives. Keep your wits about you and you can figure out what that is—and use it against them.”
Swann snorted. “Wits? Ah yes, I always wondered what guys like you were about.”
“Guys like me?” Bracing his hands behind him on the chaise, he leaned back. “There’s more to all of us than meets the eye, I think.” Abruptly, he pushed to his feet and wandered back toward our house, easily jumping the low fence again.
Swann hissed between her teeth. “He’s cute.” When I gave her an incredulous look, she shrugged. “Exactly the kind of loser you always fall for.”
“Ididn’t…” I was saying that too much these days. “Whatever with Jackhole and Dane and Banta and all that crap.” For a moment, I was tempted to push about her showcase…but I knew she’d bring it up to me when she was ready. And besides, all that stuff about my superpowers would have only added fuel to her existential crisis. “Tell me about brozilla.”
It was late when we finished off the beer—well, she finished her first and I finished the six-pack—and headed back to her car.
I hugged her. “You okay to drive? You can stay tonight if you want.”
“I’m good. Tomorrow I gotta talk my brother down from the dove release.” She gripped my hands. “But areyouokay? Really?”
“Really.” I squeezed her back. I was getting sooooo good at lying. “How about you?”
“I’m good too,” she said, lying just like me.
