Page 39 of Saving the World and Other Bad Ideas (Grave Concerns 3)

Chapter Nine

“What’s the guild like?” I pulled at the leather jacket Grant had brought me as I sat in the car—one I was sure didn’t belong to Grant, though I had no idea how he’d gotten it. I’d learned that such things weren’t that important, especially because I rarely liked the answers.

“Noisy, but in the most silent way.”

I offered him a look that I hoped explained how little that made sense to me. “I don’t need anyone taking Gran’s place to tell me things that I can’t possibly understand.”

He peered out of the window, as he’d done for the past five minutes since we’d parked. “The guild is all about posturing. Everything is a power play. It meanseverythingmeans more than it seems, so even when people are quiet, it’s still loud.”

I frowned as I thought about that, about what it must feel like. “So you’re always having to figure out what people really mean?”

He nodded, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and excitement. “I don’t mind it. I get off on the battle, on the struggle. It’s a game. It’s like always playing chess and having to figure out your opponent’s moves before they can use them against you.”

“But doesn’t that mean you’re always on guard? Always trying to figure out what people mean? Doesn’t that wear you out?”

He paused, as if he hadn’t thought about it before. “It’s all I know.”

“And you never want something different?”

“Like what?”

“Like being able to just relax? To talk to people who aren’t trying to screw you over?”

“I don’t think that exists,” he admitted softly. “Peoplealwayswant something, and if they can get it from you? They will.”

I thought about the way I’d relaxed when I’d been around Gran, or the way I sank into Troy’s arms, or how I closed my eyes when Hunter pulled me against him.

Despite my life not being ideal, when I’d had so few people to trust, I’d still found some.

And even when I hadn’t had people to trust, I certainly hadn’t had to worry about them actively trying to hurt me.

It sounded horribly lonely.

Then I thought about Grant, about how he spoke to even me.

He was always careful with what he said. I recalled how he’d told me he didn’t like to ask in case a person said no.

Maybe it wasn’t about him wanting his way and more about not trusting people to know what the plan was? Even when he’d suspected what I was, he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told me.

It forced me to look at Grant—toreallylook at him. His lips were pulled into that smirk, his jean jacket making him look so much like the first time I’d met him, when he’d come to the house in a similar outfit.

Except, even if he didn’t admit to ever letting down his guard, I could see something different with him.

That first day he’d guarded his words more, speaking with the edge of a man protecting himself.

He might not tell me everything even now, but I didn’t feel he was hiding as much, either.

“How do I look?” I asked to change the subject, because a few minutes in a car before planning some sort of heist at the mage’s guild wasn’t the best time to untangle his knot of emotional baggage.

His gaze moved over me, slow and teasing. “I’m usually partial to the whole naked look for you, but I have to admit, you look good in leather.”

“Well, enjoy it, because it’s not something I’m going to try again.” I tugged at the thighs of the pants, wondering how on earth singers dressed in tight leather pants and danced around a stage. I didn’t even have testicles to fit inside the thing, but it seemed there wasn’t nearly enough room.

Still, when I’d seen myself in the mirror of the hotel room we had gotten ready at, I had to admit…

I looked good. I reminded myself of one of those kick-ass women I’d seen in hell, the ones who had seemed ready to put anyone on their back for looking at them wrong. That wasn’t me, but it was nice to play that part.

When I’d arrived, Grant had had an outfit already there for me. A white tank top, a pair of black leather pants and a matching jacket.

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