Page 93

Max lunged forward, but he stopped himself before he could round the corner, shoes skidding on pavement. His lungs were torn apart with furious gasps, his blood like fire in his veins.

He knew he should walk away, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Blinking the Sight into place, he looked through the line of hedges they were standing behind.

Dallas was clutching her cheek. Taega was standing before her, arms crossed tightly over her chest. It was the latter who bit out, “Don’t let it happen again.” There was that phrase rearing its ugly head for the second time tonight.

Max bit his tongue and stilled his uncooperative feet again before he could intervene. But all he could see was a memory—an image of another young girl getting struck by her cold mother for something she didn’t deserve. A girl who’d died far before her time, leaving Max to miss her for all eternity. That memory coated his airways with the same smoke that haunted his dreams, and screaming filled his ears.

Max blinked the memory away, forcing himself to breathe, to still the tremors moving through his arms.

Taega’s voice was only slightly softer as she added, “I just want what’s best for you, Dallas. And what’s best for you right now involves concentrating on your studies and your training, and keeping your nose out of your father’s business. Do you understand me?”

“Fine.” The word was curt, but Max knew Dallas well enough now to detect the thickness of tears in her voice.

“Dallas,” Taega rebuked, the word slicing through the night.

Dallas let her hand fall from her cheek. “Yes, Mom,” she muttered, hugging her arms now. “I understand perfectly well.”

“Good.”

The tapping of high heels rang against the building and bounced through the parking lot.

Max retreated, his hellseher speed allowing him to make it back inside before Taega could find out he was eavesdropping.

As soon as Taega was inside, breezing past him with a sidelong glance as frigid as her smile, he was back out the doors, searching for Dallas.

He found her standing near the bench. There were no tears in her eyes, but she was still hugging herself, and her cheek was pink.

Max stopped several feet away. “You okay?”

She gave him a tense nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. She just wanted to talk.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she added, “Parents, you know? Love them and hate them.”

“Right.”

Dallas stared out at the parking lot. A breeze off the ocean stirred her hair back, carrying her scent to him—vanilla, and something earthy and warm, like fresh air in a forest. A minute of silence stretched between them before she was turning her body his way, her eyes on her toes. “Can we go home?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Stepping up to her side, he gently pried the fingers of her right hand from her arm and laced them with his. “Let’s get out of here.”

He used his Sight as they walked through the parking lot, past row upon row of vehicles. The wind off the water of the Emerald Bay blew through his clothes and carried Dallas’s hair over her shoulder, where it fluttered against his chest.

“I’m really sorry about all of that,” Dallas said quietly.

“That’s nothing to be sorry for, Dal. Everyone deals with some level of family drama.”

“What’s your family like?”

Max tensed, wishing he hadn’t said that. But they’d been together long enough now that he figured she deserved the truth, especially because she was finally initiating a conversation that was deeper than the kind they usually had. Their relationship had been purely physical right from the beginning, and while Max had always wanted more, Dallas always seemed content to keep it the way it was.

“I haven’t talked to my dad since I was a teenager,” Max began. “He works for the Magical Protections Unit in Shadowhaven.”

“And your mom?”

“My mom was a BP addict and a dealer. She was cooking up potions in our house one night when I was at an indoor ice rink with my dad. My parents were already split up by then, so Dad would come pick me up on the weekends before he moved to Shadowhaven. My sister was sleeping upstairs at my mom’s house, and that was…” That was when it happened.

Dallas lightly squeezed his hand. “Listen, Max, maybe I shouldn’t have asked—”

“She died that night,” he choked out. “My sister. The house lit on fire, and my mom didn’t even bother trying to save her. She got herself out instead.”