Frenetic by T. S. Snow
Andres
Iwrung my hands together as I stood right outside Bastille’s door and took deep breaths, trying to calm down. I was more nervous than I’d been as a teenager right before my first date.
And this wasn’t even a date.
Of course, I was to blame for that. I’d fucked things up with Charisma, and I’d made her cry. I mean, she had every right to be upset, and I probably deserved a damn beating, but fuck.
Granted, Charisma probably wasn’t even inside. She wasn’t the reason I was here right now, anyway. Bast had made it perfectly clear when he agreed to help me out.
We were going to smuggle Gran into my parents’ mansion so she could have a look at my father and confirm our suspicions. Alma Siela-Tumba was my last hope.
Not that I thought she could fix my father, but if she could figure out what exactly was wrong with him, then maybe there was a chance.
I could worry about pulling my foot out of my mouth and making things right with Char later, once this was solved or at least settled.
Bast’s only condition to helping me was that I wouldn’t pressure Char into forgiving me, not until she’d had time to process things and decide if she wanted to talk to me. Which was more than fair.
She’d already done more than I’d ever hoped when she agreed to help me with that fucking duel despite what I did.
I raised my fist to knock on the door, but stopped midair and dropped my hand again.
What if she was inside? Would I be able to prevent myself from crawling to her feet and asking for forgiveness?
You have to, Andres. Father’s life depends on it.
“Are you just going to stand there all day, or do you plan to actually ring the doorbell?” Blair’s snarky words had me turning my head to face her, eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, instead of letting loose the many curses I had on my tongue.
Blair raised an eyebrow. “You do realize my brother lives here, right?”
“Our brother,” I corrected, almost automatically.
Blair’s eyebrow rose even higher, and she was smiling that damn superior smile she loved to do whenever she knew she had won. “Well, if I were to be really pedantic about it, I’d point out he is my brother, not yours. I’m the only link you have with Bast, baby brother.”
Damn, I hated that fucking nickname.
And she knew it too.
“Oh, c’mon now, sis, you know that when I adopted you as a sister, I adopted him as a brother too. Besides, if it all goes well, he’ll be my brother-husband, which means he’ll be my brother twice. That’s one time more than he’s your brother, in case you’re not keeping count.” I walked to her and threw an arm over her shoulder, enjoying the easy banter that kept my head away from…other things.
Blair shrugged my arm from her shoulder, walked to the door, and rang the doorbell.
“You’re assuming she’ll want your sorry excuse for a mage. Sorry, baby brother, but I think that girl is way too much sand for your little toy truck,” she teased.
If only she knew how true her words actually were, Blair would probably kick my ass.
There was some scuffling, a loud yelp, and then the door swung open, revealing Charisma herself.
Her hair was up in a ponytail, highlighting the beauty of her gorgeous eyes. They shone like liquid silver, drawing me in, hypnotizing me. Especially since her cheeks were a shade of pink that almost matched her hair, and she looked…flustered.
“Lucy, you’ve got some ’splaining to do,” she said, blowing a raspberry at my sister, who rolled her eyes at the I Love Lucy reference. Then Char’s gaze fell on me, and her eyes went from amused to surprised to hurt in a second. “Andres? I didn’t know you were coming.”
I lowered my gaze, so I wouldn’t keep seeing the hurt written all over her face, and almost smiled at the shirt she was wearing. Her purple shirt had an opossum with a witch’s hat and the words “Possumbly magical” written on top. I smiled despite myself.
Her quirky shirts were always entertaining, that was for sure, and something uniquely hers.
“Yeah, I, uh…Bast and Gran agreed to help me out, you know, with my dad.” I gave a pointed look over her shoulder to where I saw Blaze approaching. I might have started to respect the guy, maybe even thought we might be friends, now that I knew he wasn’t a total asshole. Or at least as big of an asshole as I initially thought. However, that didn’t mean I wanted him to be privy to Illudere secrets.
After all, he was still a Futhark, and that made him an enemy.
One of the first things any member of an Arcane family learned was to never trust the other families.
“Bast?” Blaze asked from behind Charisma, and all three of us turned to look at him. “Who’s that?”
Charisma turned panicked eyes to Blair, then me. “Oh, you know. He’s, uh, theownerofthishouseandmyboyfriend,” she mumbled, speaking so fast, the sentence was mashed together into one long-ass word.
Blaze’s face went a comical shade of red, then white, as he stared at Charisma.
“But we—”
I decided to cut in before things escalated. If there was one thing I’d learned about Futhark over the last week, it was that he didn’t do well with sharing.
He had a long way to go if he wanted to join Char’s harem. Not that he knew she was going to end up with a harem, but if he thought for a second she’d give Bast up for him…well, he hadn’t seen the way she looked at Bast.
I wanted her to look at me that way.
“What are you crazy kids doing here anyway? I had no idea we were throwing a party.”
Blair rolled her eyes. “As if. We’re working, baby brother, something your flirty little brain cannot quite comprehend. You know, the thing grownups do?” She winked at me to take some of the sting out of her words. “Anyway, we’re late as fuck as is. Char, Blaze, let’s go, yeah? I have a hot date tonight, and I refuse to reschedule yet another dick appointment because of the two of you.”
“Urgh. Too much information, sis. For fuck’s sake,” I complained as Blair turned to leave.
Char ran into the apartment to grab her purse, then ran after Blair. Blaze had no choice but to follow, and I briefly wondered how long it would take him to get around to finding out more about Bast and whether or not Char would tell him the entire truth.
Well, I supposed that was up to her, Bast, and even Blair to decide.
I’d just watch from the sidelines and hope Blaze didn’t blow Blair and Char’s entire world to hell, because if Blaze handed Bast in, that was what would happen. I doubted either one would ever forgive him for it either.
They entered the elevator in silence, and I let myself into Bast’s apartment, closing the door behind me. Before I could call out to warn him I was there, Bast opened the bedroom door and poked his head out.
“Is it safe to come out yet?”
I snorted. “Please don’t tell me you hid in your room and eavesdropped the entire time just to hear what was going on.”
Bast saw me, smiled, and opened the door fully so he could walk out of the room. “Of course not. I eavesdropped because Char was having a moment with one of her men, and it would be rude of me to interrupt.” He shrugged. “Besides, she knew where I was the entire time and she could’ve called me if she needed me. Char is strong, Andres. She doesn’t need me to fight her battles. Speaking of which…”
Faster than I expected, Bast approached me and punched me right in the gut.
I doubled over in pain, all the air leaving my lungs.
Fuck shit fuck.
“Shit,” I wheezed, trying to breathe through the pain and stand up.
I knew I deserved it and I should’ve totally seen it coming, but damn, it hurt like a motherfucker.
“Like I said yesterday, I’m letting you off easy because you’re like a brother to me, Andres, but I swear to the Goddess if you ever hurt Char again, all bets are off,” he threatened, stepping away from me and going into the kitchen.
I just stood there, doubled over, counting my breaths until I felt less like I might throw up my breakfast.
Bast had a mean uppercut.
He came back, and suddenly, there was a glass of water hovering near my face.
“Drink this, then let’s go pick up Gran before she decides to try to go to your parents’ house on her own. I’m pretty damn sure she would storm in and expect everyone to fall in line.”
I stood upright, accepted the glass of water, and said nothing. There was no fucking point arguing or even pretending to be mad about what he’d done.
Honestly, I’d expected something yesterday when I fucked up. The fact he waited until we were alone and hit me somewhere that wouldn’t cause too much damage was already a big win.
I gulped the water down like a man dying of thirst, nodded in thanks, and took the cup back to the kitchen, while Bast grabbed his wallet and keys. Then we were off.