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“But I?—”
“You did nothing, brother.” The topaz had fled from Iron’s steely gaze, but the meaning was there all the same. It always was. Pity. “But next time, it might not be me your curse decides to take it out on.” Iron spat onto the mat beside him and gave no concern to the blood that he’d coughed up as well.
“He’s right.” Rhode sat next to them, legs straight out in front, elbows resting against the staff he held horizontally across his lap. “How do you know your little mortal won’t be next?”
His little mortal. Why did the simple ownership in those three words make him want to carve Rhode’s tongue out just for mentioning her? A possessive spark flared within his chest where his fire had just raged, as though his pathetic heart only bothered to beat when she dominated the subject matter.
“Her name is Molly,” Brass whispered, staring daggers at a hole in the mat by his foot where metal had melted through it. “She . . . I . . .” He sighed, uncertain how to vocalize his concern. Fucking mages, he’d nearly killed his brother, and he was over here playing footsie with some scorched foam instead of saying what those males damn well deserved to hear.
Brass dug his fingers into his hair and lowered his head. “I think she’s a magic user of some kind.” The confession stole his breath and that of his brothers. He regarded it for the terrible sign he knew it to be. For all three of them. “When we were at the restaurant, I was rummaging through the dumpster in the alley, investigating a small fire that had erupted beneath some copper wiring. The next thing I knew, orange flames turned blue, and my fire was pulled out of me, lighting up the entire dumpster’s contents. I didn’t do it, but she was the only one around, and?—”
Fuck, he couldn’t say this. Every aching part of him swelled and roared against sharing what felt like a precious confidence. What if it put her in harm’s way? What if whatever had slated him for slaughter learned of her magical counterbalance and went after her?
What if she knew and the fire was intentional?
It was that question that turned the crank on his mindfuck, even while his fingers scratched against his palms, itching to feel her soft skin instead of the roughness of his own.
But these were his brothers, brothers he had just tried to kill for even speaking of Molly, even if the intent of their words was to protect her.
From him. Again.
“I’m better around her,” he rushed out before he could see the distrust on their faces and had to answer for it. “I don’t know why, but I can just breathe when she’s near. There’s no choking tether I have to keep lashed down all the time. My rage is free, yes, but it’s almost like it has a different motivation, if that makes any sense.”
Rhode and Iron exchanged puzzled looks. “Your curse is sentient?” Iron asked.
“No. Yes. I mean, fuck . . . I don’t know what I mean.” Any explanation his brain offered up fled the station as soon as it boarded, because anything that couldn’t be explained away was a result of one thing.
One very significant and vile thing: magic.
“She doesn’t know.” Brass lifted his head and met the solemn eyes of two angels who had their own reasons to recoil at the word. Bless the mages, they didn’t judge him for it.
They didn’t judge him, but oh, the pity was there loud and proud like always.
“She doesn’t know,” he went on, “and she never will. At least, I won’t be the one to tell her.”
Rhode leaned forward. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
Brass shook his head. “I’m not sure about anything, and I can’t afford to go in blind. Molly’s . . . I don’t believe she’s aware of her power, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. So, until I can figure out what she’s playing at, her ignorance of her condition is the best thing for all parties involved.”
Iron grunted and wiped his forearm across his mouth. “You still touched her today.”
If there was a point to be made, the bastard would always highlight the direct path and still somehow find a damn shortcut.
“Yes,” Brass gritted out.
“You touched her today,” Iron indicated, “and lost your shit soon after.”
“Please don’t mince words on my part.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences, and you can’t afford to either.”
Brass bared his teeth. “Just what are you fucking saying?”
Iron leveled his even-keeled stare at Brass. The effect was made more ominous due to the rapid bruising already beginning to show around the thick column of his neck. “I’m saying you can spend time you don’t have cracking her magical nut, or you can stay the fuck away and deal with your shit. Mages know you have enough of it.”
There. Right there. Iron not only gave a voice to the elephant in the room but named it, adopted it, and set it up with a visitation schedule.
You can stay the fuck away.
