Page 57 of Stormbringer (Tracthesian Academy #1)
J arred kept watch over sleeping Wayla. She looked better, had some color back on her face, and didn’t toss and turn and whimper in pain in her sleep. Still, she hadn’t woken up since yesterday. Ilijas said that it was normal, but Jarred didn’t have to like it.
A week. That’s how long he had waited for her to wake up and tell him what the fuck was going on. The fight, the breakup, the blow-up. None of it made sense to him, and he wasn’t convinced that it made sense to Wayla either. Why did she always jump to the worst conclusion?
Marc was grumpy and refused to talk about the fight, Hellion was sulking, and none of them had heard a peep from Irishen after he walked out. He didn’t even reply to Justin’s text about Wayla’s recovery, just read them.
“I need you to get better soon, precious,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss Wayla’s cheek. She didn’t reply or wake up. Jarred ran his fingers through her hair and kept thinking.
He, and frankly, everyone else, was surprised that Hellion hadn’t gone tearing through Wayla’s life to find answers.
Waiting wasn’t one of Hellion’s strong suits, but maybe some of what Irishen had said had gotten through to him.
Not that Jarred would rely on anything that came out of that.
Hellion was just as likely to do something to spite Irishen than listen to him.
The peace lasting this long was a small miracle.
It probably had more to do with Hell Moon and being forced to arrange the festivities that were taking up all of his time. Despite what many believed, Hellion actually enjoyed being the envoy most of the time, but seeing Tharrexeus’s name on the guest list had turned his mood foul.
The demon was well known for his opposing views and animosity toward Hellion.
The idiot thought he should be Hell’s heir apparent instead of Hellion.
He wasn’t stupid enough to go against Lucifer directly, but had tried to undermine and attack Hellion before.
Jarred just hoped that Tracthesian’s neutral status was enough to keep his scheming to a minimum.
The alarm on his phone sounded, and Jarred reluctantly got up, made sure Wayla was comfortable, and then stepped out of the room. Marc was waiting in the hallway, ready to take over the watch duty.
“I don’t like this,” Marc said.
Jarred didn’t disagree. “What can we do though? Hell Moon is rising in six hours. I have to go with the class on the trip. Kilkenny would have a fit and they need the extra protection I can provide.”
“Yeah, I get that. Still don’t like it,” Marc replied.
“Well, I don’t either,” Jarred snapped. “Sinister, Zahir, Hazard, and Hellion are all roped into the Hell Realm visits. With Tharrexeus there, we can’t pull any of them away.”
“Fucking Tharrexeus. I don’t get what he thinks he’s going to achieve by antagonizing Hellion.”
“Power, status, the usual shit,” Jarred replied. “I’m more worried about the Hell Moon’s effects on Wayla. Even if she’s shielding—”
“We don’t even know what kind of shields she has,” Marc cut in. “Only that she thinks my way of shielding is better.”
“At least she has some shields, and the house is warded,” Jarred tried to reassure both of them.
“Maybe I should fly her to my home, it’s out of the range of this Hell Moon.”
“Ilijas said that moving her wasn’t wise. The wards should be enough to block most of it, and you’ll be here with Grant.”
“I’d still feel better if she was awake. You never know where a power surge hits,” Marc grumbled.
Yash walked out of his room, clearly having heard the end of their conversation, and shrugged. “I can stay back and guard the lady if need be. I’m decent at projecting my shields.”
Marc shook his head.
“Sim? Ilijas?” Yash asked.
“There’s no point in having them or you at the house when there’s an opportunity to study Hell Moon,” Marc sighed, finally admitting that he was fretting.
Jarred rubbed his neck and tried to relax. They were all on edge and hovering around Wayla. It was probably Hell Moon causing the tension.
“If you change your mind, call me,” Yash offered.
“Thanks, Yash,” Jarred sighed. “Justin is with Risha. They are keeping an eye on Elena. He will call if it looks like they are cooking up something.”
“Good,” Marc said. Together they walked down the stairs, and Jarred grabbed his things for the trip.
“Call me if anything happens, okay?”
“You are too far to come back quickly, but I’ll keep you posted,” Marc replied. Jarred dragged his feet, but eventually, he had to make it out of the house. Professor Kilkenny would lose his mind and bitch a fit if he was late. He just had a bad feeling about all this.