his voice was palpable, potent, red hot. He took a step closer until he loomed over me and I could feel the heat of his fury radiating off his body. “I knew how to hurt that fucker because Muller paid someone to do the same damn thing to me. Only difference was, that Tock stopped on a rewind.”
My lungs stopped working. I couldn’t breathe. At the same time, this giant, blinding ball of fury swept through me. My head filled with storm clouds and thoughts as jagged and crooked as lightning bolts went in every direction. My poor, sweet Andros. That fucking terror of a human being. The detective’s face flashed through my mind, his dark hair and arrogant look. “Why?”
“Cause I wouldn’t talk. I was small fry and he knew it. He wanted to catch the big fish, my boss’s boss. And he couldn’t get any of us to tell him. Muller strokes his ego off like a dick.”
It was a funny statement, but then again, it wasn’t—I didn’t laugh. I just stared solemnly up at him.
“It would be easier if you didn’t go to the funeral.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he kept talking. “But since you will, you need to be prepared," Andros' tone and face grew darker than my shadows.
"You think I’m gonna get caught?" His lack of confidence sawed a hole through my gut.
"You need to be prepared if you do," Andros’ jaw ticked.
That pissed me the fuck off. "We're working day and night to ensure that doesn't happen."
"Yeah. But if it does, you need to be prepared."
My temper flared and I felt my cheeks go hot pink with anger. "What? Why am I the only one out here then?" Was this some sexist bullshit garbage? Didn’t the rest of our crew need to prepare too?
Andros didn't answer. He just grabbed my shoulder and threw me to the ground.
I hit hard, twigs digging into my back and a pebble hitting me on the spine in a way that shot red pain up and down my central nervous system. That fucker!
Andros' face remained impassive as he strode forward, straddled me, and put a hand to my neck. "Get out of my hold," he ordered.
That was fucking redundant. Like I wanted his asshole hands on me. My hands lit up and I let all the rage and pain pumping through me pulse into my magic. My magic glowed, a beam of white-hot light edged in purple; it shot out at his face and burned him. Take that UV, motherfucker.
Three seconds later, he was off me, clutching a burnt face, while I heaved myself to my feet. I was so mad I had a hard time speaking. I wanted to knee him in the balls so badly that I had to force myself to take a couple steps backward and remind myself he was a teammate, not an enemy. Not yet, anyway. When I finally did get words out, they were a low growl. "What. The. Fuck?"
He didn't answer. He ran at me. Adrenaline spurred me into fight or flight and this time I chose flight, turning and running. I jumped the railroad tracks and darted deeper into the woods, taking a zig-zag path, hoping that the narrow spaces between the trees would slow the huge man down.
As I ran, I ranted. The asshole was supposed to be part of my crew. I'd always thought of his military training as an asset before. Not a hindrance. But how the hell had he passed the psych evals? Does Z know he's insane? I wondered as I ran, stomping through undergrowth and making an ungodly amount of sound that I was certain scared off any remaining wildlife.
As my chest started to heave, I looked back, wondering if I should use my shadow magic to help hide myself as I ran. Even though it was mid-afternoon, I could make the area under the tree canopy dark as night.
I stopped breathing when I realized that Andros wasn't even behind me. What the hell? Where did he go? My eyes darted from side to side but I didn’t see any movement. Had he just stopped? Was this some damn prank? My head swiveled back around to face forward and my nose hit a six pack that was hard as brick.
I looked up at Andros, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't even winded.
I blinked.
He disappeared. A set of huge arms wrapped around me from behind and lifted