16. Chapter 16

16

T he air thickened with dormant violence and the crackle of testosterone-fueled tension.

Rebecca realized she couldn’t keep holding her breath and waiting for Maxwell and Rowan to figure their shit out on their own.

Why was she waiting, anyway? She was the Thon-Da’al. Shade’s commander. She did have the power to stop this.

She just hoped these idiots riling each other up in front of her had the power to exercise self-control and get a grip on themselves.

“Blackmoon,” she said tersely, her voice echoing like a crisp smack down the hallway. “That’s enough.”

Rowan’s hazel eyes flickered toward her, and he laughed again. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just messing around. Right, Hannigan?”

Maxwell growled again. “Are you serious?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. All that posturing… What’s your deal, huh? You got something against elves? You know what? Hey. It’s no big deal. I am totally down to be pals. We’ll get along just fine.”

He raised his fist in a playful punch once again heading right toward Maxwell’s shoulder.

Rebecca knew Maxwell had snapped even before it happened.

The shifter moved in the blink of an eye, faster even than most elves could move and much faster than anyone else could see.

A blurring streak of dark hair and flashing silver light and the gray of his button-down shirt, and the next second, both he and Rowan were in two entirely different places.

Now Maxwell stood where the elf had been, his open hand extended to the side toward his new irritation. Rowan, however, had been thrown across the hallway, stumbling out of control until his back thumped against the opposite wall.

With a grunt, he glared at Maxwell, no longer bothering to hide his disdain. He flexed his hand by his side—the same fist Maxwell had caught before using the Blackmoon Elf like a living slingshot.

No one said a word.

Rebecca didn’t move, though she was acutely aware of the operatives in the secondary armory now on their feet and crowding around the open doorway for a better view. Clearly, they expected the kind of fight that would undoubtedly break out if Rowan didn’t back the hell down first.

Maxwell certainly wouldn’t.

Peeling himself away from the wall, Rowan stared at the shifter, his hazel eyes wide and flashing with a new deep-gold light while his crazed grin split across his face from one side to the other. When he laughed, his face lit up with the kind of maddened, bloodthirsty battle rage Rebecca had seen in him only too many times.

He always dressed it up like another joke he just couldn’t get enough of telling.

He glanced at his open hand and let out another bark of madman’s laughter. “ Oh , yeah! Now that’s the spirit!”

Then he surged across the hallway again, heading straight for the shifter.

Maxwell’s furious growl reverberated against the walls as he stalked toward the elf, his silver eyes lit up with one continuous flare.

Oh no…

This was the part where Rebecca’s Head of Security took this show to the next level and shifted right here. She already recognized all the signs. Plus, the anticipation of such an impending battle was so thick in the air, she could almost taste it.

“I should lock you up again,” Maxwell snarled.

“Wouldn’t that be fun?” Rowan teased.

Just before the men got close enough to reach for each other, Rebecca made her move.

She summoned a heavy attack.

Two crackling orbs of crimson battle magic hissed through the air, sending flickering blood-red light and dancing shadows across the hallway a second before they cracked into the floor.

One in front of Rowan’s feet, and the other in front of Maxwell’s.

Both men stopped short. The shifter’s gaze darted up to Rebecca’s face to send her a warning snarl instead while the scent of hot stone and burning steel filled the hallway.

Rowan, however, stared straight down at the two-foot-wide crater Rebecca’s magic had left in the cracked tile floor at his feet. Then he clicked his tongue. “Seriously? That’s all you got?”

His next chuckle made Rebecca feel like she was losing her mind. “This is not what we need right now!”

Before her voice finished echoing back toward them, Rowan and Maxwell fixed her with equally hesitant stares, the air crackling with their shared desire to rip each other apart.

Well, they could add that to the growing list of things they had in common. Like both taking themselves away too seriously and being a major pain in her ass.

She wagged a finger back and forth between them. “Whatever you two have against each other, this isn’t helping anyone. And it sure as hell won’t get Eduardo’s cargo off the streets, which is our priority right now. Agreed?”

Maxwell stepped around the hole she’d blasted into the floor with another rumbling growl, rolling up the cuffs of his long-sleeve shirt. His glower focused solely on Rowan again. “I’d be happy to pivot and prioritize throwing him back in a holding room. We shouldn’t have let him out.”

“Well we did.” Rebecca stepped forward to put herself between them again. Part of her wanted to scream at them to grow the hell up or she’d be forced to hurt them both. The other part of her wanted to laugh in their faces.

Clearly, she was the only one here capable of taking the high road, and now was the perfect moment to lead by example.

“He passed initiation, Hannigan,” she continued. “It’s done. The only issue we should be focusing on now is getting Eduardo’s cargo off the streets, and that’s it.”

She thought she had him convinced before Rowan barked out a laugh and tugged at the collar of his shirt, flipping it up at Maxwell in a way that made even Rebecca want to pound his face into the tile floor.

Maxwell surged toward him with a hiss.

Rebecca leapt to insert herself between them one more time, realizing the situation probably called for physical restraint for both of them.

It looked like the shifter was ready to walk right through her.

“Hey! We have a job to do!” Rebecca pressed a hand against Maxwell’s chest, hoping it would at least remind him that she was standing here so he didn’t bowl her over.

It did far more than that.

The instant flare of magnetic heat and blazing energy jolted through her entire hand at the contact, zipping up her arm and blooming through her core and rushing up toward her face in half a second.

There was no way in hell Maxwell didn’t feel it too.

He froze, seemingly snapped back to reality. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and blinked like he’d gotten something caught in his eye. Then his silver eyes widened, their constant shifter glow faded back its normal levels, his mouth popped open, and he swayed on his feet.

It was only a little. Rebecca would have reached for him if she’d thought her Head of Security was about to keel over, but he caught himself in time.

Whether anyone else had noticed was anyone’s guess, but Rebecca had noticed.

So had Maxwell.

When he looked at her again and truly saw her standing in front of him, his slack expression made her think she might have hurt him with that hand on his chest.

She would have expected the look he gave her now if she’d slapped him across the face, but she hadn’t gone that far. This was something else entirely.

Then she realized they were both breathing heavily, as if they’d been fighting each other instead of Maxwell and Rowan only hinting at it. This was too much.

How had a single hand on his chest unraveled him like this?

She dipped her head toward him, hoping she’d called him back from whatever shifter blood rage he’d obviously just entered, and asked again, “ Agreed ?”

He reeled away from her with another sharp breath, his gaze darting all over the hallway and into the secondary armory, where the other operatives still crowded around the open door to watch. The shifter looked lost, as if he had no idea how he’d gotten here or what he was supposed to be doing.

Then he cleared his throat, and when he offered a curt nod, it looked more like shame than going through the motions of his duties.

“Yes, Thon-Da’al,” he croaked. “Agreed.”

Whatever had just happened, it had seriously thrown him off his game.

Rebecca had to file that away for later as another possible avenue to investigate. Trying to figure it out now would only be one more distraction from the larger, far more pressing issue.

When Rowan sniggered behind her, she spun around and pointed at him. “ You need to keep your mouth shut. You’re not making things better for yourself. The next time I see anything between the two of you I don’t like the looks of, you’re both taking a time out. How does that sound?”

Rowan’s self-satisfied smirk disappeared. For the first time since he’d shown up in her life out of nowhere, Rebecca now found herself the target of his glare. “You seriously think you can do that?”

By the Blood, she wanted to throw him through the fucking wall just to shut him up.

“Yeah. I can do that,” she snapped. “I’m the fucking boss. Deal with it.”

Whether because of her growing anger or simply that they’d run out of steam, both Rowan and Maxwell finally stood down. Their offensive postures didn’t change, nor did they concede anything verbally, but the palpable tension storming around them eased enough to feel a measurable difference.

Not that they’d been taught the kind of lesson they needed, but Rebecca was doing her best. She had to focus on her responsibility as commander, even though she’d taken it on as willingly being the only mature adult capable of holding her frustration in check at the moment.

So she turned toward Maxwell again and steered their interrupted conversation back on track. “Eduardo’s cargo. This is time-sensitive?”

“Very.”

“Okay.” She turned back toward the secondary armory’s open door. As soon as she looked their way, the magicals watching the unfolding drama in the doorway jolted into action, bumping against each other and scratching their heads, clearing throats, avoiding their commander’s gaze.

The unknown of forcing Maxwell and Rowan together in close quarters would have mesmerized anyone. Rebecca could forgive them that and decided not to call anyone out right now.

In comparison, the spectators hadn’t done anything wrong here.

“This is convenient for us. Diego, Leonard, Nyx, and Titus.” She gestured toward them, then looked back at Maxwell. “They all know exactly what we’re up against with Edwardo’s griybreki.”

“That’s everyone,” he replied with a nod.

“Titus?” Rebecca almost laughed with the big guy’s eyes bulged in his head like he’d just been caught stealing from her. “Think you’re ready to get back in the field?”

“With you, Knox?” The giant vuulbor’s voice boomed like crumbling boulders as he loomed over the other magicals crammed around the open doorway. He flexed an enormous bicep, his stone-gray skin rippling across muscle while the new scars from his run-in with Edwardo’s protective wards a week ago had left their mark in darker slate-gray striations. “I feel pretty fucking good. Yeah.”

Diego elbowed him in the side, though the Cruorcian was much shorter, so his elbow cracked against Titus’s hip instead of his ribcage before he hissed, “Don’t be an idiot about it.”

“Oh. Right.” Titus looked up at Rebecca again and nodded, raising his voice to declare, “You’re fucking right I’m ready, boss!”

Diego glared at him with a brief flash of crimson light flaring behind his eyes.

Nyx clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle before her violet eyes widened in self-conscious horror.

“Good.” Rebecca nodded. “As long as he’s got the all-clear to return to field ops.”

“Zida set me loose yesterday,” Titus clarified.

“Then it looks like we’re getting the old team back together for another shot at these griybreki. Everyone in the garage armory in fifteen minutes for a full briefing. Hannigan, if there’s anyone else you think would be an asset for this one, bring them too.”

The shifter nodded, making a clear effort to ignore Rowan as he turned away from the secondary armory and stomped down the hall. When no one else followed him, he let out a sharp whistle and barked, “That means move!”

The members of her old team scrambled away from the doorway to gather their things before racing out of the secondary armory, one by one, to prepare for the upcoming briefing down below.

Nyx disappeared with a burst of violet light and purple sparks, while the others had to travel on foot, but no one complained.

Rebecca watched them hurry down the hallway, giving herself a moment to sit with the overwhelming relief surrounding her now.

She’s successfully diffused the growing tension and gotten everyone’s focus back on track, without much incident at all.

No one had gotten hurt.

The other operatives in the secondary armory returned to cleaning their weapons, filling the room with a low murmur of their conversations.

Her relief soured, though, the second Rowan stepped up beside her.

His next chuckle sounded weighed down by frustration. Most likely because all his hard work had fizzled out into an anticlimactic resolution when he’d clearly been trying to start something.

She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I’m impressed,” he murmured before shaking out his hand again—the same hand Maxwell had caught and used to throw the elf across the hallway. “Shifter really packs a punch. In more ways than one.”

“He did warn you. Twice. That’s more chances than I would’ve given you.”

“Well how many chances do I get?” he asked.

Feeling far more in control of herself now, she turned to look him in the eye.

There was his stupid smirk again.

“Because you still owe me that conversation,” Rowan added. “Which is the whole reason I’m here.”

A scowl darkened Rebecca’s features before she could think of anything to say.

After the way he’d just acted, he was still on about this damn conversation he wanted?

Aware of the other operatives still in the secondary armory, Rebecca fought against the almost irresistible urge to tear him a new one before continuing to pretend she was nothing more than Shade’s commander. Who had never met Rowan Blackmoon before his arrival the other night, just like everyone else.

“I don’t owe you a fucking thing,” she snapped. “Stop acting like a child and finish cleaning your weapon.”

Rowan sniggered. “Please. It would be so much easier to just arm up with the Hakalini’ir Battalion’s bows than taking apart such primitive technology. We’re not even improving it. It’s just to clean . Is this your master plan, then? Wasting everyone’s time?”

Ancestors help her.

She was this close to taking everything out on him, because he wasn’t making this easy on her. Her strained patience and finicky temper didn’t appreciate it, either.

Instead, Rebecca pointed at the open door and muttered, “Shut up and get back to work.”

Then she stormed off down the hallway. Anything less than that would have only given Rowan another opportunity to defy her and push all the buttons he could get his hands on. Not just hers, either, but Maxwell’s too. And anyone else’s he could reach once he started poking around.

Right now, she was done with him.

In no way did she want Rowan to think this private conversation he wanted so badly was ever going to happen. It never would, if she had her way.

And historically, Shade’s Commander usually did.

Rowan Blackmoon would never seize the opportunity to get Rebecca Bloodshadow alone for anything.

Even as her heels clicked across that tile floor, Rowan’s dark, dangerous laughter echoed behind her, drowning out the sound of her own steady footsteps.

She clenched her fists to hold herself together. At this point, she wasn’t sure which annoyed her more–that push-pull tingle and dark, luring pull beckoning her closer to Maxwell despite his constant suspicions of her, or Rowan Blackmoon’s fucking laugh.

If she had to deal with both of them, fine. But if they pushed her to her last nerve, she already knew she was going to lose it.

When that happened, she might just end up murdering both of them herself.