Page 28 of Mage Massacres

“You care about her.” Murphy’s straightforward statement caught me off guard. “I’ve never seen that from you either. Outside of Ma and us and your friends, I can’t remember seeing you care about anyone else.”

I sighed as Millie backed away. “I’ve done a shit job at showing it, but, yeah. I do care about her.”

“When did you realize that?” Miller quirked a brow at me.

I closed my eyes, envisioning the exact moment. “I thought about it a few times, but really? About halfway through the spell. It hit me hard and fast, like a—”

I paused, tilting my head as I popped my eyes open and rolled my tongue over my teeth.

“Like a what?” Murphy asked, throwing a fork at me. “Don’t get all shy on us now.”

A grin slipped over my lips, and I knew that I didn’t need Sloane to confirm or deny what I’d just understood.

“Like a tornado, Murph. She hit me like a tornado, and now it’s time to rebuild.”

“I don’t know why you’re smiling about this,” Millie bitched. “You hurt her, and you have no idea how to—”

“I have an idea,” I confessed. “It involves a lot of groveling, some wildflowers, and a mini—”

“Wait, don’t tell us,” my brother smarted, holding his hands up. “Is it a tornado?”

Miller rolled her eyes at me. “She doesn’t strike me as the flowery type, Palmer.”

“She’s not. The flowers aren’t important. They’re just a backup in case I can’t sweet-talk the demon into letting me borrow a little fire.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” my sister screeched, swatting at me. “She thought she burned you to death, you idiot.”

“Right,” I agreed quickly. “The flowers might be pretty. But I’ll keep thinking about it.”

And as I thought about it, I realized that those marks she put on her foot represented our relationships. Maybe not at the time, but… No. I was sure they did, whether she’d done it consciously or not.

Briggs’ mark was a wolf’s paw with its claws out. And once he’d found his footing, he’d dug his own claws in with no intentions of letting her go.

Stone’s mark was a flame. They started cautiously and grew rapidly, igniting each other when they were too close.

Vaughn’s mark was a snowflake, slow to fall and unlike any other. He’d been frigid, but it had taken her no time to warm him up.

York’s mark was an ivy leaf, and from what I knew about the plant, I was assuming it had something to do with durability and resilience.

Novak’s was a little harder to understand. The fangs threw me off completely. It could have something to do with being sharp or venomous, but that thought made me snort.

I was probably drawing at straws with the other marks and their meanings, but I knew mine. I had no doubts about that little tornado on her foot.

“Why are you making faces? Did you come up with something better than flowers and fire?” Murphy’s sarcasm was as thick as my own.

“Nah.” I waved him off, not willing to elaborate.

“Leave him be, Murph. Briggs just rocked him. He’s probably got a concussion and was thinking about balloon animals.”

“You told them about the balloons?” Briggs questioned from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to smirk at him. “I didn’t, but you’ll have to now, or they’ll never stop askin’ about them.”

“I’ll pass,” he rumbled. “I came back to tell you that I shouldn’t have punched you. It was a knee-jerk reaction.”

“That doesn’t sound like an apology,” Murph sang.

Briggs shrugged as he sat across from me. “That’s because it wasn’t. I’m not sorry about it; I just shouldn’t have done it.”