Destiny's Fire - By Trisha Wolfe Page 0,39

too.

I scooted off the seat, and Lana hooked her arm through mine. “I can’t wait to see Devon. It feels like forever since I last saw him.”

“I didn’t know you guys were getting serious,” I said, scoping out the entrance. A line of waiting patrons wrapped around the building. Devon hadn’t opened the doors yet.

“Pfft,” Lana blew through her lips. “Serious? Me? He’s just smoking hot. I’ll have a new fling going on at the Academy by this time next week.”

I nodded, but I knew she was full of it. I’d never seen Lana interested in one guy for this many consecutive months.

Lana entered something into her communicator, then tugged on Nick’s arm. “Hey, Devon said to go around to the side entrance. He’ll open it for us.”

We started toward the side of the building, passing by a group of Narcos. I checked out Jace’s reaction. He was stoic. I breathed a sigh of relief. “So, what’s the mission tonight?” I asked, gauging his response. “Diversion tactic?”

He grinned. “How about Mission Have a Good Time?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

As we entered the club, I felt at home. I’d spent so much time at Cogs since we started training, and I realized how much I’d missed it this past week. I smiled as Lana went straight for Devon, wrapping her arms around him. Devon beamed, his dimples deepening as a warm smile slid across his face. This wasn’t just another infatuated guy—he truly cared about her. My heart ached. As happy as I was for my friend, I couldn’t help envying her. She could be with the guy she cared about—no complications.

I sighed and pulled a stool up next to Nick at the bar. “Bartender, give me a beer.”

Nick laughed. “Hard times, little lady?” He nudged my shoulder.

“Everything’s changing.” I glanced around, locating Jace. He was talking to Devon as he set up the stage. “Honestly, I feel like we don’t have much to worry about from the Narcos.” I sat up straighter. “I mean, yeah, I want to keep sparring because I love it. But I’m not sure we have much to fear from them anymore.”

“Yeah.” Nick nodded. “I’m not so sure Jace would agree, but I get what you’re saying.” He pressed his palms on the counter and hopped up, swinging himself over to the other side. Then he grabbed two glass mugs and filled them with beer, the brass contraption puffing steam above his head. “I love my little brother, but he gets carried away with his obsessions.” He winked, and handed me a mug. “But between you and me, I think if he had a girlfriend he’d chill the hell out.”

“Jace? A girlfriend?” I laughed. “Right. She’d have to be one pretty badass girl for him to take notice.”

Nick craned an eyebrow. “Yup, she’d have to be.” He set his beer on the other side of the bar and jumped over, then scooted his barstool closer to me. “So, just how badass is your power since the—” He broke off as Jace sat down on the stool before he could. “Oh, hey, bro. What’s up?” he said, taking the seat next to Jace, instead.

“Nick, giving a minor alcohol?” Jace reached for my beer, but I snatched it out of his reach.

“Don’t start, Jace.” I glared at him. “It’s been a long week, and I deserve one.”

Gently placing his hand over mine, he tilted the mug toward his lips and took a sip. I eyed him curiously before taking a sip myself. “So you haven’t even asked about sparring,” I said. “What’s up? Afraid I’ll kick your butt on even terrain?”

Jace spun my barstool so that I faced him. “Nothing’s up. Just want to have a good time tonight.” He lowered his head closer to mine. “Is that cool?”

I stared at him, taking in his smile—the squinty-eyed Jace smile. “Okay. Where’s my friend and what have you done with him?”

He laughed. “Come on. Let’s go open the doors for Devon.”

I leaned against the far wall of the club, watching Lana slow dance with Devon. He’d let Marty take the lead on guitar and vocals so he could spend time with her before she went off to the Academy. Although, it wasn’t like we were really going off. It was right down the street from Cogs, but attending the Academy meant we’d be practically locked away. We’d only leave the grounds on the weekends—and would have a curfew.

The Academy was a rite of passage. Devon had gone.