Chapter 17

Cricket

Julian looks me straight in the eye. "I'm sorry."

My stomach lurches, and my heart sinks.

He snatches the coin.

His magic swirls around him, orange and furious. And then he's fully dressed, boots and all.

Realization strikes a sour note. He's going to gate away from me!

He shuts his eyes. I think about grabbing him, making him stay or risk taking us both, but nothing happens except the coin emitting an angry, high-pitched whine and practically vibrating itself out of Julian's hand.

He clenches his fingers around it, knuckles white.

"Maybe you should hand that over, thief," I snap. "How could you?"

Rather than listening to me, he tries again. His magic tingles against my skin, a bright, glowing amber that's fizzling out before he can gate away like the coward he is.

I don't know why the coin is preventing him, only that I'm grateful for its help. Again.

My anger simmers low, threatening to bubble over at any second. But I'm not the only one who's angry. Julian howls with rage and flings the coin away like it burned him.

For all I know, it might have. Would serve him right.

I snatch the coin from where it landed on the floor, along with my clothes, and begin to dress. "I can't believe you."

"I did say sorry." He sits there, blinking stupidly, glaring at his hands like they're the traitors in this room when that role is filled solely by him, Julian the traitor. "I told you all along I was going to steal the blasted coin."

I tuck the coin into my inner vest pocket, where it's safe from him. "But even after what we just shared?"

"Even after what we just shared." He sounds defeated.

"I thought things had changed."

"They haven't."

I decide not to care. I'm so angry I could spit. Hurt too, definitely that, but it's easier to be angry than hurt, so I lean hard into the fury. "You utter ass. You terrible, nasty, awful person. I trusted you."

"You shouldn't have." He waves his fingers at me. The protective barrier of his shield shimmers and forms around me.

I try to wipe it away, but Julian's magic is so much stronger than mine. Nothing happens. I can't get rid of it. "What did you shield me for?"

"Testing a theory." He waves his fingers again, and the barrier evaporates.

"I'm mad at you."

"You should be." More finger-waving, little sparks that flame bright, then sputter out before hitting me. "I betrayed you."

"You did."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. I don't care." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. "What are you doing?"

He sends more sparks that fizzle to nothing. "Trying to set you on fire."

My jaw drops. "Well, don't."

"I can't."

"Good." I huff and fling myself onto the other side of the bed. "Why, after all this time, would you still try to steal my coin?"

"That thing"—he sneers as he says the word—"belongs only to itself."

"Why, Julian." It's not a question so much as a demand. "Tell me."

"Hmm. I can work magic on you with ease so long as it's for your benefit." He ignores my question, almost talking to himself. "But anytime I mean ill or trickery upon you, it's as though I'm impotent. Nothing works properly."

"Terrible shame. Can't have that. Now, answer me. I want to know why."

He finally looks me in the eye. "I always intended to steal the coin. I never hid that from you. You left it for me to take, so I took advantage. What did you expect?"

More. Better. Trust."For you not to be an ass."

"Oh, I'll always be an ass." A sad chuckle passes his lips. "Perhaps if you gave it to me. Willingly. Handed it over with your blessing. Maybe then I could gate away."

"But I won't."

"Why?"

I don't want you to leave. "It's not yours to take." And I don't approve of what you're planning to do with it. "I'd thought we could share it." You have to let me help you. "But I was clearly mistaken."

He utters a frustrated moan, leaves the bed, and folds into an armchair, promptly dropping his head into his hands. I've never seen him so low.

Makes me nervous. Julian is supposed to be strong.

Desperately, I cling to my anger. "I'm not going to feel sorry for you, if that's what you're hoping."

"I'm not. I wouldn't expect that from you." The words come out muffled, spoken to the floor instead of me.

Seven seas, I feel sorry for him! I could pull out my hair I'm so frustrated. He's pathetic, all crumpled in the chair, mad that he can't properly steal from me. As I would be if I couldn't best one of my targets.

I blow out a long, dramatic sigh for effect. "Why do you want the coin, Jules?"

He lifts his head, surprise etched across his handsome features. He sees the inquiry as the offering it is. A step back to me. An olive branch.

No.

Twig.

An olive twig.

He doesn't deserve a full branch.

"Erm, I'm hungry. Need to trade it for some food." He arches his brows. "I wonder how many nillyslugs on a stick we could get with a magical golden coin that sings when it's happy and whines when it's pissed?"

I laugh in spite of myself, just a little bit. "I'm not forgiving you yet."

"I haven't asked you yet."

"Because you know I'll say no, not because you don't want it."

"Correct."

"I can't trust you anymore."

"No."

The hurt comes rushing back, overtaking the anger. Water wells in my eyes, tears threatening. I blink hard and turn away. I don't want him to see. On my side, back toward him, I tuck myself into the blankets and curl up tight.

"Come back to bed," I say to the tapestry on the wall because I can't bear to look at Julian right now. "You need to sleep."

Silence. Then, "You sure? I can stay in the chair. Or I can leave if you'd rather."

"Don't leave," I snap. "There's more than enough room."

After a tense few breaths, the bed dips with his weight. He doesn't touch me as he settles in, which is fine. I don't want him to. My skin smells of his periwinkle soap, which is enough of a reminder without touch to muddle things further.

Just my luck to fall for a murderous scoundrel who would dare steal from the thief he just fucked into the mattress.

By the weeds, my friends back at home are going to love this guy. I can hear them now, their teasing. That I've met my match. Someone to trouble me as much as I've troubled them over the years. I know they don't need me anymore—my skills have been made obsolete—but maybe there's still a place for me among them.

Maybe even with a broken, irritating, lying sorcerer at my side.

A wave of homesickness adds to my teary mood. I sniffle. We're close to Irondale. It's the next real town and the last one before the sea. If only I can convince Julian we can handle his mission without turning him into a killer. We can claim his vengeance another way.

Together.

With or without the stupid coin.