Page 39 of All Out of Flux
I could hardly believe it had worked. Hurling the dragons into the ritual circle had actually sent them back through time, back before we forged any contracts, perhaps even back before they knew of my existence.
No more dragons for a long time, thanks very much. I was excited to return to my roots, develop a deeper understanding ofbruhomagic, the ancient arts of the Alcantara witches. My mind had been dulled and ravaged by exposure to the draconic struggles. Now I had all the time in the world to hone it to a sharp point.
If only I could say the same for the Masque, the one who called himself Justice.
A squad of his colleagues had made an appearance at the Dos Lunas Dome shortly after Brendan’s spell had gone haywire. We were reassured that Justice’s mind would reassemble in time — not that Max and I were all that worried to begin with. Given enough healing and therapy, the twelve fractured parts of his personality might still have a chance to unite. The problem was how he very likely had a demotion waiting for him, if not outright termination.
But the ritual had impacted Brendan Shum worst of all. Depending on perspective, though, he might have been the luckiest, too. Being centered in the time distortion had aged him backward, all the way to a time before he’d begun to dabble in chronomancy. Hell, it brought him back to a time before he’d ever worked as a spider. The ritual had turned him eighteen years old again, stripping him of most of his magic, but also his memories.
That underlined the bittersweetness of it all. He was eighteen again, and he thought that his baby brother was still alive.
“Feels like we should be celebrating surviving this fight and being alive at all,” I told Max. “But I do feel bad for Brendan. Or at least this version of Brendan. He didn’t know. He must be so scared.”
I thought of the man who spoke to me inside that other dimension. The sadness in his eyes, the longing that settled deep within his bones. Seeing everything he had done — as a brother, as a chronomancer, as the anomalist — I couldn’t rightly say that he’d ever meant to hurt anyone.
“Don’t,” Max said. “I wouldn’t worry about it. The Masques are tough, but they aren’t monsters. They’ll make the effort to keep him comfortable and rehabilitate him. It’s a bizarre gray area. The Quartz Spider they arrested is someone who hasn’t committed the crime yet. Brendan’s a completely different person. How do they even resolve that?”
I kneaded my temples. “Makes my fucking head spin, honestly.”
Max shook his head. “You know what makes my head spin? All these multiple boyfriends you have. Brendan Shum, and now Justice? Who the hell goes by the name Justice? Was he born in a jury box?”
“You take that back, Maximo.” Heat flared up my face. My cheeks must have gone bright red. “I donothave multiple boyfriends.”
“It can’t be helped. You’re just boy crazy and that’s the end of it.” He tilted his head, studying me from a curious angle. “But what are your thoughts about having just the one boyfriend?”
Oh, God. Was I on fire? I must have been on fire. Did Tiamat’s flames get loose? I would have given anything to burn to a crisp, for my cinders to drift with the wind, far away from Max’s steely, probing gaze.
“I mean,” I muttered. “I guess I don’t hate the idea.”
“You can ogle cute boys all you want.” He licked his lips, pulled on the front of my shirt, putting our faces barely inches apart. “As long as you come home to the same bed.”
I playfully shoved at his hand, pushed him away by the chest, which might have been a mistake because it only reminded me of how muscular it was. Sweaty, and hot, and hard as rock. “To the same bed, sure. Assuming we’re having one of our — you know — sleepovers.”
“Yeah. About that.”
Max lowered his head, scratched the corner of his eyebrow, and averted his gaze. Why the sudden shyness?
“About what?” I asked.
He twiddled his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip. What the hell was going on? Bashful, wishy-washy Max was cute, but I didn’t see this side of him very often.
“I was wondering if — oh, God. Feel free to say no, but — do you think you’d want to bring more of your stuff over? Not just your toothbrush and a duffle bag, I mean. I don’t know.”
Electricity traveled up from the base of my spine. I blinked. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
He raked stray locks of hair away from his face, glowering irritably at thin air, still avoiding my gaze. “Yes, I am. Fucking — do you want to move in with me?”
I threw my arms around him, laughing when his eyes went wide open, when his hands wrapped around my waist, trying to steady me as I swooned.
“Yes. Since you asked so nicely, yes! Fuck yes, Max. Are you kidding? Your apartment is absolute heaven compared to the dump I live in.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Oh. So this is all about real estate, is it?”
“Yes. A hundred percent.” I pressed a kiss against his cheek, smiling when he smiled. “I’m joking, of course. I’m beyond stoked. Yes. I’d love to move in with you. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”
The corner of his mouth hitched into a sleazy grin. “You will, will you?”
“Totally. I’ll cook for you.”
