Chapter 5 #2
“Not only that, but mourning doesn’t mean you’re allowed to speak to a prince that way,” I went on, deciding to play up some of the arrogance Rafe liked to use.
He sniffed.
“Y-you’re right. I’m s-so sorry. P-please forgive me.” Lena turned in her Links’ arms, sobbing into his chest.
“When can we see our son?” The man asked.
“As soon as they’re done checking him over,” Rafe replied, smoothly taking back the lead.
“The Palace’s best Healer is here, checking each victim personally.
She will compile her findings into a report, and then we will meet with you to discuss.
Please…” Rafe shook his head. “I am doing my best. This attack was important to me. My own Key was here.”
Lena sniffled before turning back to look at us again, something I couldn’t read flashing in her eyes before she went back to sobbing.
“Are you coming with me?” Rafe asked in a low voice.
I’d migrated over to the coffee machine and the staff had promptly scattered. I was wearing my bad mood like armor at this point, praying no one threw themselves on me to sob about my lack of action. My phone vibrated, and I chewed my lip before looking up at my friend.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice just as low.
Rafe let out a small sigh. “The Gulf, Wyatt. I need to see her. And I think you do, too.”
I swallowed a hot gulp of coffee, grimacing as it burned down my throat.
My phone vibrated a second time and I glanced down at the message, grimacing again when I saw who it was from.
Carissa
I’m safe, I just got home. Are you okay? What about Wilow?
Will I be seeing you over break? The room is still ready for you
“That better not be who I fucking think it is,” Rafe growled.
I ran my hands through my hair, keeping my eyes on my sad cup of black coffee.
“She can’t even spell Willow? Wyatt–”
“I know,” I ground out. “I know. It’s done. It’s been done. She won’t listen to me.”
Rafe sighed deeply, though he tried to hide it. He shook his head.
“I’m leaving for the islands. Are you coming with me or not?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but someone else spoke first.
“The islands, huh? Who’s there, I wonder?”
Rafe went rigid, turning slowly to face Coach, who’d seemingly appeared out of thin air.
“Can I help you? This is a private conversation.” Rafe said, back to being the arrogant Royal prick.
Coach snorted. “Then do your mind-speak, don’t talk out in the open.”
“What do you want?” I muttered, still looking down into my coffee.
It sucked. It needed something sweet, like caramel.
Fuck, even that made me think of Skye. The frozen caramel coffee she’d made at the café all those months ago taunted me. I’d let her have it then, but I’d thought about it often. I loved overly sweet drinks.
“Aria’s from the islands.” Coach said, wasting no time. “That’s where you’re heading. Did she take Brandt with her?”
Rafe’s dark eyes flicked to mine, and I shrugged, telling him it didn’t matter if we answered these questions or not.
Coach huffed a laugh and Rafe rolled his eyes. We didn’t need to use mind-speak to communicate, we just knew what the other was thinking sometimes.
“Why does that matter to you?” Rafe asked.
“I like her,” Coach deadpanned. When neither of us reacted, he sighed. “I saw what happened.”
“Yeah, we all did?” Rafe said slowly.
Some deeply buried part of me panicked slightly. Rafe had been a smartass all through Coach’s class, and I was always guilty by association. We hadn’t been in his class in nearly a decade, and he was even my colleague now, and yet somehow, I was afraid he was about to order us to go run laps.
Coach gave Rafe a flat look.
“I mean, I saw what happened. With the…” Coach did a motion that almost looked like jazz hands, and while I held in my laugh, Rafe did not.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Rafe snorted. “Why are you asking us where she is? You wanna come along?”
Coach sighed dramatically, then glanced around the room before speaking again, which silenced Rafe immediately.
“I know about her affinities.”
The three of us were moving through the shadows before I could even comprehend what he’d said.
I gagged when we landed in my office, and Rafe grabbed me by the back of my neck, practically slamming my head into my trash can.
Coach spun slightly before catching himself against the door, then straightened up to face us.
“What does that mean?” Rafe asked darkly, continuing the conversation as if he hadn’t just publicly whisked us away.
“I know what she can do. She put Landon down in class once, tripped him a few times. I swear she almost drowned Anton and just played it off like a water affinity.”
“It is a water affinity,” I said slowly, and Coach shook his head.
“I know it’s not,” he said. “But whatever, I saw Brandt, too. Caught a streak of lightning and didn’t die.”
“I don’t understand,” Rafe said. “You want to…blackmail us?”
Coach laughed out loud, a real, deep belly laugh, and Rafe bristled.
“No,” Coach said. “I want to know how I can help. You’re all going to need it.”
“We’re good, thanks,” I said dryly, but Coach was already shaking his head.
“Rafe, your father is about to name himself acting headmaster.”
Rafe’s brown skin paled slightly. “What?”
“Yeah, your boyfriend missed the meeting,” Coach said.
In a burst of anger that was very unlike me, I hurled my coffee cup at him. He dodged the cup easily, and it splattered against my door window.
Coach only shook his head. “You’re still predictable.”
“Coach,” Rafe said, trying to stifle a chuckle. “Stop antagonizing him. What do you want from us?”
“I’m not lying. I like Aria. I even like Brandt. I don’t like your father, and Earl had told me about the creepy meeting they had last term. He didn’t like the way Alex was looking at Skye. I think that’s why he’s gone.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, silently praying Rafe didn’t punch my fucking wall. Although, I’d just splattered coffee everywhere, so…
“Alright, I’ll allow it.” Rafe said, straightening. “You’ll report to either me or Wyatt with any pertinent information related to Skye or my father, or the two together.”
Coach raised a bushy eyebrow. “That an order?”
“Yes,” Rafe replied brightly. “Furthermore, you’ll keep an ear out with the rest of the students and staff. Find out if anyone knew anything about the attack beforehand. Any weird, anti-loyalist language needs to be reported to me. Anything cultish in nature–”
“Cultish?” Coach squawked.
“Yes,” Rafe said, not skipping a beat. “I do believe that’s what I said. This attack was related to the Pilgrims.”
Coach went still, and then spoke very carefully. “Listen, kid. I know your history with the Pilgrims, but–”
“But nothing,” Rafe snapped. “You’re a combat and affinity coach, not a psychologist. I get enough shit from Wyatt, I don’t need it from you, too. I am not projecting my fears onto this situation. I saw the symbols on their chests clear as day. It. Was. The Pilgrims.”
Coach sighed. “I did see the symbol.” He lifted his ballcap and ran a hand over his bald head. “I’ll let you know what I hear. Make sure that girl understands how serious this is.”
“I’m sure she does,” I couldn’t help but sneer. Skye had lost her parents in the Gulf Capitol Massacre, orchestrated by the pseudo-religious terror group known as the Pilgrims. She understood better than anyone how serious this was.
“Maybe,” Coach said cryptically. “But something tells me the clock is ticking on her fight or flight response. Pretty soon, here, we’re going to see how it really looks when she stops running.”