Page 30

Bree

T he Tipsy Cauldron wasn’t anything special besides being a semi-safe place for Gifted people.

The main floor was for anyone, but the second floor was only for us Gifteds.

As with most places within which the GIG allowed commingling—even if separated by a floor and unbeknownst to humans—magic was prohibited.

Just in case the random non-Gifted human snuck upstairs.

I’d only been inside once before when I’d first turned twenty-one, but nothing had changed. The bouncer barring the staircase at the back looked us over then waved us up, recognizing us as Gifted.

Upstairs was nearly identical to below—a long mahogany bar top stretched along the right side, and a smattering of tables provided more than enough seating even during peak hours.

The wooden floor was sticky and made gross sounds as we walked.

I guess keeping it that way was a simple deterrent for any sneakery.

The lack of patrons made it easy to locate Frankie. That and the fact that she was the only one covered in dirt and soot and swearing up a storm.

"An’ then, then they raised their fists," she said, raising her drink in the air like a demonstration. "You get that, Saul?"

The bartender at the opposite end of the bar was busy drying a glass with his towel. "As I told you a million times already, Frankie, I ain’t listening."

"Bah, don’t matter." The fae woman waved a hand like she was shooing him away and almost lost her balance on the stool. She righted herself and drained her glass in one gulp.

Marissa and I exchanged a worried look. Drunk Frankie wasn’t someone super enjoyable to be around. She could be downright mean in this state, as I’d learned the hard way after being on the receiving end many years ago. Thankfully, it was a rare experience.

"Maybe we should wait until she’s sobered up," Marissa whispered, clearly having the same thought as me.

Unfortunately, Frankie must have heard her. She turned her head just enough to see us over her shoulder. "Hey, you guys, c’mere. I gotta story for ya."

Her gaze swiveled back to her empty glass. She blinked at it once, glanced down at the ground, then checked her pockets. "Saul! Someone drank my fuckin’ drink!" she hollered down the bar.

"It was you, Frankie. You drank your own godsdamn drink, and that’s the last one you’re getting." Saul sighed and met us as we approached. "Please tell me you’re friends with her and getting her outta here before I gotta throw her out."

"Uh, yep," I said with a grimace. "We’ll take it from here."

"I ain’t goin’ no place, Saul." Frankie let out a loud belch. "I’m gonna live right here on this shit-stained stool from now on. Comfier than it looks." She patted the side of the stool affectionately.

I really hoped she didn’t mean what she said literally. Any part of it.

"Frankie." I rested my hand on her shoulder and felt her stiffen. "It’s me."

"This a knock-knock joke? Me who?"

"Bree."

She turned to look at me. Squint at me was a more accurate statement. Her eyes were bloodshot, and soot smeared across her weathered face and settled in her wrinkles. A frizzy mess of brown and white curls was barely restrained with a few plastic straws acting like hair sticks.

She was a disaster.

Her gaze drifted down to my feet, then back up to my face, slow and deliberate, like she was taking me apart piece by piece. "Saul, we gotta problem."

Saul grunted. " You’ve got a problem. I’ve got work to do."

Frankie didn’t even acknowledge him. Her eyes stayed locked on me—not angry, not relieved. Just unreadable.

I swallowed, my throat tight. "I’m hoping to fix the problem."

Frankie’s expression didn’t change, but her next word landed like a punch to the gut.

"No."

I blinked at her matter-of-fact tone. A single syllable, cutting through the air like a blade. That was it? She wasn’t even going to let me explain? No chance to apologize? She must have been beyond mad.

"No?" I repeated, feeling foolish for coming here. For even thinking she’d forgive me.

"You can’t fix my problem."

The finality in her tone hit harder than I expected, cracking something in my chest. Marissa and Calvin were wrong. I had spent weeks agonizing over what to say, but none of it mattered. Not to Frankie. Not anymore.

"Why not?" Marissa asked.

Frankie yelled and stumbled off her stool. She tripped over her foot and would have crashed to the floor if my reflexes hadn’t kicked in. I grabbed her by the arm and kept her upright.

"There’s two of you!" Frankie shook my hand off, then groaned and clutched her head. "What’d ya put in that last glass, Saul?"

"I shoulda put in water," Saul muttered under his breath. "Or arsenic."

"Frankie, it’s us. Bree and Marissa." I was determined to say what I needed to say, even if she didn’t want to hear it. "We’re back."

"Surprise!" Marissa grinned. "Vince tagged along to buy us a drink. Isn’t that so nice of him?"

Still looking sheepish, Vincent gave Frankie a quick wave before heading to the other end of the bar, where the bartender had retreated.

She squinted again and moved in closer, peering at my and Marissa’s faces. "Man, I gotta hand it t’ya, Saul. Whatever you put in there is makin’ these hallucinations look really real."

"Can hallucinations do this?" Marissa leaned forward and tapped her on the nose. "Boop."

After uncrossing her eyes, Frankie looked thoughtful. "Come ta think of it, I dunno."

"They’re real, Frankie," Saul called out helpfully.

The fae woman narrowed her eyes, looking at Marissa and me in earnest. Seconds passed, and just when it started to get awkward, she closed her eyes. "Oh, for the love of the Other."

She snapped her fingers, and a bright purple spark of magic crackled to life. It zipped around her body from head to toe, leaving a faint but dazzling shimmer in its wake. When she opened her eyes again, her irises flashed violet before dimming back to brown. All signs of intoxication were gone.

Fae magic could be so handy.

"Godsdamnit, Frankie!" Saul slapped his towel on the bar before leaning over it. "You know the rules. No magic. None. Zip. Zilch."

"I musta forgot."

"That’s the third time today!"

"Yeah? Well, take it up with the dragons. They’re the whole reason I’m here." She cackled as he muttered under his breath and returned to cleaning. "Knew that would shut the ol’ goat up."

"Frankie."

This time when she met my gaze, her tough exterior cracked. Tears glistened in her eyes. "Damn you for makin’ me worry like that, Bree." Her voice was rough, unsteady in a way I had never heard before.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could get a single word out, she caught me in a fierce, bone-crushing hug. Of all the reactions I’d expected, this was not one of them.

Marissa had predicted she’d smack me over the head. And honestly? I had braced for a good smack. That would have made sense. Hugs did not fit the no-nonsense, sharp-as-nails fae woman I knew.

Yet here she was, clinging to me like she’d thought she’d lost me forever.

I hesitated for only a second before wrapping my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of something electric that always clung to her, like the air before a storm. Only now it was tinged with smoke and ash. A lump formed in my throat.

Then another pair of slender arms slipped around us both, and I knew without looking that Marissa had joined in.

I smiled, squeezing them tighter.

For the first time in a long, long while, things felt right again.

Until a fourth pair of arms joined the hug, much larger and hairier than the others.

"Damnit, Vince," Frankie mumble-yelled against my shoulder. "This hug ain’t for you. Bugger off."

The big arms lifted, and Vincent’s grumbles followed him back to his stool.

Poor guy.

When we disentangled ourselves, all a bit more sniffly than before, Frankie shook her finger at Marissa and me. "Don’t you ever run off like that again. Either of you. Ya hear me?"

I nodded. "I’m so sorry for not explaining before we left."

She scoffed and waved a hand. "I don’t care what you think you did that would warrant leavin’. We’re adults. You’ll tell me what you did and we’ll fight it out and forget about it. Got it?"

I laughed. "Got it."

"Me too," Marissa chimed in. She scoffed when we both turned to stare at her. "Obviously not the fighting part." Her eyes widened. "But now we need to know—what the hell happened to the gym?"

Frankie groaned and motioned us toward a table. "I swear, those damned dragons are gonna be the death of me."

I gawked at her as we sat. "They tried to kill you?"

"Me? Bah, no. They know better than to try somethin’ that silly." She turned toward Saul and yelled, "Three beers on me."

"Not a chance."

Frankie waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Water then."

"I don’t—" I rubbed my temples, my thoughts tangling like seaweed in a storm. "That doesn’t make sense. Who blew up the gym?"

"Oh, that was the dragons."

"But not to kill you?" Marissa asked, her eyebrows pulled together. At least I wasn’t the only one not following. "They own the gym. Why destroy it?"

"They were tryin’ to get that red dragon of yours," the fae woman said while eyeing me.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Not from embarrassment—well, maybe a little. I wished he were my red dragon. "He’s not my—" My brain slammed into a wall of realization. "Wait, what? They tried to kill Nic?"

"You bet yer arse they did." Frankie leaned back in her chair, observing me. "I told you that granddaddy of his is nothin’ but bad news."

"But I thought everything was settled after he won the fight?" I asked, though even as I said it, I knew how na?ve that sounded. Based on what Dominic had told me, Ichiro would never let things go that easily.

Frankie’s expression softened, and that scared me almost more than anything. "A lot’s happened since then, kiddo."

My pulse roared in my ears. It was bad enough coming home to find Subliminal reduced to rubble, the place I’d thought was untouchable now nothing but dust. But Dominic’s life was in danger again?

By the same man, no less.

I gripped the edge of the table, my nails biting into the wood. How had everything spiraled so fast?

I asked the question I was almost too afraid to ask, "Did he get hurt?"

"Nah. I don’t think the old man expected him to either. It was a challenge."

A challenge? That bloodsucking barnacle.

If Ichiro had challenged Dominic, then he must have gotten desperate. They would fight for dominance, and not just over the Sato empire. No, they’d fight for the right to live. Only the winner would walk away still breathing.

I had to get to him. I didn’t care what the challenge rules were, if there even were any. Rules didn’t matter. Not when Dominic’s life was on the line.

I had not fought this hard, lost this much, only to let him die now.

Certainly not before I could tell him how I truly felt about him.

My vision tunneled, the edges of the room blurring as I shoved back my chair. The thought of him bleeding out somewhere, alone, sent a slicing panic through my chest.

"Where are they?" I asked, pushing to my feet so fast I nearly knocked the chair over.

Frankie raised her hands like she was trying to settle a wild animal. Which, honestly, wasn’t far off. "Now, hold your fins, kiddo. I know you wanna barge in and help, but these’re dragons we’re talkin’ about. Two ancient, bloodthirsty beasts. They’ll rip you apart."

I barely heard her. The roaring in my ears drowned out everything but my rising panic. I wasn’t stupid—I knew what dragons were capable of. I’d seen and felt it firsthand. But that didn’t change anything. I’d rather die trying than sit here waiting for the news that Dominic was already gone.

"Where, Frankie?" My words came out hoarse, dangerously close to pleading.

She sighed and rubbed at a smudge on the table, avoiding my eyes. She was stalling. "I’ll tell you on one condition."

I clenched my fists, barely suppressing the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake the answer out of her. "Fine. What?"

"I’m goin’ with you." She raised her hand to stop me as I tried to argue. "That’s the only way I’m tellin’ you."

"Me too." Steel edged Marissa’s voice, her arms crossed like she was daring me to fight her on it.

No. No, no, no.

There was no way I could let them come. Not if this was as dangerous as Frankie had just said. It was one thing to throw myself headfirst into danger, but dragging them with me? Letting more people I loved bleed for my mistakes?

But I didn’t know where to find Dominic. I was wasting time, and time was the one thing I didn’t have right now.

I was sure most of the Gifted community was still caught up in the bomb chaos, which meant finding someone else who could tell me where he was would take too long. This infuriating woman was my only shot at getting there before it was too late.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Fine. Deal."

Frankie studied me for a second, her sharp gaze slicing through me as though she could see right into the gears turning in my head. Good thing she couldn’t. She nodded. "They’ll be at the Sato estate downtown, the one near?—"

I didn’t bother to listen to the rest. A map of D.C. flashed in my mind, pinpointing the location instantly. Ten minutes if I ran. Less if I pushed myself.

"Thanks, Frankie."

"Don’t thank me yet, kiddo," she said as she moved to stand. "It’ll take?—"

" Sleep ."

Magic surged from me like a crashing wave, weighty and absolute.

Frankie’s eyes fluttered once before her body slumped forward onto the table. Marissa went just as fast, her arms slack, her breath deepening. A moment later, Vincent, Saul, and the other patron followed suit.

The silence that followed felt wrong. Heavy and suffocating.

I hated this.

Using my magic against people I loved felt worse than swallowing glass. Like ripping another piece of myself apart. I knew I was doing exactly what I’d just promised I wouldn’t do—pushing them away and running.

But I had no choice. I was already drowning in guilt; I didn’t need to add their blood to the weight of it. I couldn’t let them risk themselves this way.

My stomach twisted, and I clenched my jaw. There was no time. I had to move.

"I’m so sorry," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "Really, I am."

I grimaced, turned, and ran.

I was down the stairs and out the door before my brain had fully caught up with my body. The sunlight hit me like a slap, but I didn’t let it slow me down. I sprinted onto the street, my heart hammering in my chest.

Minutes. That was all I had before they woke up and were hot on my heels. And if I didn’t make those minutes count, I could lose more than just time…

I could lose them, too.