hers too, all hard, honed muscles that had set fire to her blood, had made her crave more.
She groaned.
She still craved more.
Syn leaned her head to her left. “You look awfully like you’re smooching him in your head. You’re totally smooching him in your head, aren’t you?”
Her friend gasped, her eyes widening.
“Or are you undressing him? Oh, Mackenzie. You really need to get laid or something if you’re wanting to bone the competition.”
She wanted to refute that accusation, but what was the point? Syn would only see straight through whatever flimsy lie she dreamed up.
“It isn’t going to happen. My wires are just crossed. You’re right. I need to blow off steam and he just happens to be revving my engine whenever we cross paths. Fighting is a powerful aphrodisiac.”
Her second-oldest brother had told her that.
Her mood faltered as she thought about him, as that thought led to ones about the rest of her family and before she could stop it, she was spiralling down a dark rabbit hole of misery.
“Mac?” Syn shuffled closer and stroked her knee. “Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry. I’ll lay off. No more talk of the kitty.”
“Hartt.” She sniffled and rubbed her nose, regretted the hell out of it when the cartilage the elf in question had fractured shifted and a thousand hot needles pricked her across her cheeks. “Kitty’s name is Hartt.”
Syn froze. “Hartt. Hartt of that guild.”
Before she could answer, Syn continued, her pace picking up as she moved closer still, dragging the box with her and plucking the blue vial from it.
“You should have told me. Are you crazy? We’re good, sweetie, but we’re not that good. You’re backing out of this contract.” Syn popped the star-shaped lid off the vial and a waft of lavender with an undernote of brimstone hit Mackenzie. “That’s an order. This is suicide, Mac. Suicide. I don’t care what the bastard client offered you. Nothing is worth you dying.”
“Ten thousand,” Mackenzie muttered as Syn raised the vial to her lips.
The scent that came off it stung her nostrils and made her eyes water as Syn froze again.
“Coins?” Syn said. “Ten thousand gold coins?”
Mackenzie gave a tiny nod.
“Shit,” Syn grumbled and sank back, taking the vial with her. She stared at Mackenzie, her amber gaze distant, her red lips parted and her black eyebrows pinned high on her forehead. “Ten thousand in gold coins could… well, what couldn’t it do?”
“Add to that the prestige that will come from claiming the head of this mark, and we’re set, Syn. This is what we’ve been working towards all this time.” A shiver ran down her spine. “We made a vow when we lost Trina. We swore we would lead the guild well and we would do whatever it took to elevate it to the place where it should have been, so Trina would be proud of us. This is what it takes, Syn. This is our chance.”
She neglected to mention that Hartt had offered to buy her out. Syn would no doubt jump on the offer and the chance to get Mackenzie out of a dangerous situation.
Mackenzie took the blue vial from her friend and swallowed the contents. She grimaced as it went down like a shot of slime and coated her throat. The moment it hit her stomach, she placed her hand over her mouth and cried into it, muffling the sound. Fire spread through her like a tidal wave, felt as if it was burning her to ashes as the spell went to work. It blazed like an inferno where the elf had clawed her, and on her arm, set her leg aflame too. Sweat dotted her brow as she tried to ride the wave of agony, clinging to consciousness.
The first time she had taken the potion to speed her healing, she had passed out.
Syn had kindly called her a wuss when she had come around.
“So, what’s the plan? Kiss your boyfriend some more until he succumbs to your charms and gives up the fight? I’ve heard all the same tales you have. He won’t back down.” Syn took the empty vial from her and placed it back in the case.
“I know that.” And she wasn’t planning to kiss him again.
Ever.
It had been a mistake, and it had left her reeling and confused, and deeply troubled. Something was wrong with her. That was the only reasonable answer.
“I injured him too,” she said and tested her arm, rolling her right shoulder. She sent up a