The Power
Page 42

I rose and immediately my attention focused on Josie. She was still standing where she was, her arms wrapped around her waist as she watched Alex and Aiden. Slowly, her gaze trekked over to me. Her throat worked on a swallow as she pressed her lips together.
My feet were carrying me over to her before I even knew what I was doing. I stopped in front of her. “Are you okay?”
Josie nodded. Her gaze roamed over me and then drifted beyond my shoulder. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That’s . . . that’s her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I faced the happy little group. Alex was doing some kind of dance with Deacon. My lips twitched. “That’s her.”
She was quiet for a moment. “She’s so beautiful.”
I glanced at her sharply.
“I mean, not that I expected any less,” Josie was quick to add. “It’s just that I . . . I don’t know, I just didn’t know what she looked like. But look at how happy all of them are! It’s . . . I’m rambling, and God, wasn’t all of this just crazy? The fighting? It was like East Side versus West Side. Marcus really has his hands full.” She kept going, a mile a minute. “I hope that girl is okay. Do you think she will be? I mean, that would’ve killed a mortal. Like, dead on arrival kind of dead. And half of them didn’t even seem aware that a freaking door appeared out of nowhere and—”
“Whoa.” I touched her arm. Electricity danced from her skin to mine. I tried, and failed, to ignore it. “Slow down, Josie.”
Her gaze dropped to her arm and then flicked up. “I’m not going fast.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever.” She stepped to the side, and my arm fell back as she stared at the group again. “Shouldn’t you be over there?”
I coughed out a dry laugh. “Uh. No.”
“Why?” Her nose wrinkled. Cute. Dammit. Still so cute. “I’m sure they would like to, I don’t know, hug you and stuff. You did so much for them. You did everything for them. You—”
“I did what I had to do for them. What I shouldn’t have had to do in the first place,” I cut her off, unable to listen to her making me sound like I’d done something heroic. “They wouldn’t be where they are now if it hadn’t been for me.”
“You’re right.” She straightened out her arms and looked me head-on. “They wouldn’t be standing here, being all immortal and stuff if it hadn’t been for the sacrifice you made. And I hope, or at least I’m hoping, they recognize that. If they don’t, then they aren’t worth what you gave—”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped, uncomfortable with what she was suggesting, and uncomfortable with everything that was going down. Everything. “That’s the problem here, Josie. You only see what you want to see. You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, especially when it comes to them—to her. So just drop it,” I said, slicing my hand through the air between us, “because it’s none of your business.”
She paled as she stepped back, folding an arm across her stomach. Thick lashes lowered, shielding her eyes. “No,” she said, her voice reedy. “I’m seeing everything now, but you’re right. Them. Her. They aren’t any of my business.” She took another step and then turned, her voice pitched low. “I’ll see you . . . around.”
Dammit.
My anger had risen to the surface, like water boiling over, and I’d lashed out like the dick that I was. None of this was her fault and she meant well. Josie always meant well.
Things with her were messed up, but she didn’t deserve this shit from me. Keeping my distance from her the last three weeks had made me experience serial-killer levels of asshole, but she, of all people, didn’t deserve this.
I started after her, but I didn’t get very far. Marcus finally appeared. Happy reunion number five million took place, and before I could sneak off, and by sneaking off I meant following Josie, I was surrounded by what Deacon had dubbed the Army of Awesome.
While Marcus dealt with the latest civil breakdown, we ended up in one of the large conference rooms in the main Covenant building. I had no idea what I was doing there, but every time I tried to leave the room, someone asked me a question.
Namely that someone was Alex, who was sitting on the leather couch, squeezed in between Aiden and her father. Deacon was perched on the arm, beside Aiden, and Luke was sitting on the ottoman. Solos was leaning against the wall, grinning. Everyone was happy.
Not that I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to be in this room with them, so I stayed by the window, watching the Guards escort pures and halfs back and forth. But my attention kept wandering back to who was sitting on the couch. Out on the quad, I’d managed to ignore it, but I couldn’t seem to stop it now. Every fiber of my being was aware of potent aether emanating from the two demigods, but it was more than that. The long-dormant cord was thrumming to life, and I was doing my best to—
“Why do you keep staring at me?”
Realizing I was, in fact, staring at Alex, I blinked. Awkward.
Aiden leaned against the cushion on the couch, tossing his arm along the back. “Good question.”
I shot him a bland look before focusing on her. “You look like . . . like you did when we first met.”
“I do, right?” She lifted her hair in both hands and wiggled the ends. The last time I’d seen her, her hair was much shorter. Ares had gotten hold of it, lopping it off with a knife. “Apparently when you die, you get doused with Scar Begone or something.”