Chapter 21
twenty-one
Kit
Kit felt a little unnerved when he saw Visha’s vines protecting the bunker’s hatch.
He’d been too worried about losing any pursuers to text his ex about their arrival at the bunker, and he knew better than to tell her about Gentry ahead of time.
They’d been broken up for only two weeks, and Visha’s jealousy had been one of the many reasons he’d ended things.
He glanced back at Gentry, hoping the smile on his face would put her at ease. The woman didn’t notice as she hugged herself and stared at the hatch. She looked the perfect mix of exhausted, heartbroken, and the tiniest bit fascinated.
I wonder what she’s thinking about. But then again, he always was.
The girl was wickedly smart, concocting plans that would put any coven leader to shame.
He pitied Visha if she tried any of her usual shit with this girl.
Even if she had been through hell and back in the last day, she’d put his ex in her place.
Of course, maybe he should’ve told her about Visha. But he hadn’t wanted to unnecessarily stress her out. The poor girl had been through enough.
“Are you going to open it?” Gentry asked, still not looking at him.
He flushed, but obeyed. Infusing his hand with as much magic as possible, Kit knocked on the pink cherry wood between the vines. He prayed Visha had added his magical signature as an exception, or else he’d get a very unpleasant zap.
Thankfully, he felt nothing but cool, sandy wood as he rapped his knuckles. The leaves retreated back into the bunker, and Kit grabbed the knotted rope to haul the lid open. Wild, dark ebony hair and beautiful caramel eyes greeted him.
"Where have you been?" Visha hissed, immediately grabbing his wrist. "I texted and called a hundred times."
"The job went wrong," Kit said, feeling off-kilter and full of relief now that he could see she was actually safe. He could see no bruises, no scratches or scars. Thank God, he thought, Raja’s daughter is safe.
"I figured as much when the Weavers started asking questions." Visha looked annoyed with him. "They came by the day after your job was supposed to be done. I didn't wait around to see if it had gotten any better."
Resentment gnawed at Kit’s heart as he looked down at his ex-girlfriend. "Jobs go wrong sometimes," he said, trying to keep his tone even. "That's why you shouldn't risk everything on what I can do. The others are getting babysat by a Weaver apprentice right now. Did you know that?"
Visha’s face immediately collapsed with regret. “No, I hoped they’d leave them alone after I left. I thought they just wanted me.”
Disgust made his tone sharper. “Well, that's not what happened." He could see the exact moment Visha spotted Gentry, his ex’s tall build freezing and her hands flying up as if to cast a spell. Kit caught them before that could happen. "Easy," he said. "It's not what you think."
"Who is she? How could you bring her here?" Visha gave him such a betrayed look that Kit felt his hackles rise.
“She’s the problem you gave me,” he snapped, “and now I have to keep you both alive.” He heard Gentry gasp behind him and immediately felt like a colossal piece of shit for dragging her into their dirty laundry.
But his opportunity to apologize disappeared as Visha caught on. “She doesn’t have any magic,” she breathed, her eyes widening with horror. “The idiotic magic-less person who ended up on the Weavers’ shit list. You rescued her and then brought her here?” Visha screeched.
“I didn’t piss off the Weavers. Do your research,” Gentry said.
Visha sent a death glare at the other girl, but Kit wasn’t having it. He felt his magic, albeit weakened, flare to his hands. Visha stiffened, giving him her attention once more.
Kit smiled and spoke through his teeth, “Well, I thought it was time that you shared in the responsibility you dumped on my shoulders. Now let us inside. Now.” He pointed his thumb at the hatch. “Or else I’m kicking you out in the desert. Without water or a ride.”
Visha gasped, “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” he lied, not wanting to acknowledge how he couldn’t forget their past. Raja. The man who’d given his life up to save Kit’s. The ghost of her father held them together.
Wordlessly, Visha moved aside, and Kit gave a quiet Gentry a thumbs-up.
Together, they descended into the bunker, which was really like a barracks with a small kitchenette in the corner and boxes upon boxes of rations.
He could see that Visha had set up camp on the bunks closest to the kitchenette, her three bags strewn open and lying around on the floors. She'd always been a messy packer.
Floating candles illuminated the edges of the bunker, revealing the cherry wood walls and ceiling. "Is that a fire hazard?" Gentry asked, her voice once again uncertain.
Visha cocked her head down at the shorter woman. "It's spelled to be flame retardant, and also to be insulated in times of great heat or cool." As she spoke, the walls started to chatter and whisper as sand slid across the wood. The bunker was once again on the move.
Gentry's eyes grew to the size of quarters.
"This thing has outlived many a witch. We're safe in here," Visha finished, slithering over and giving Kit a look. He received the unspoken message.
"We weren't followed," Kit said. "And besides, it only matters as long as we stay in here long enough for the bunker to cycle through its route.
" He had a plan, none of which involved them staying for terribly long, but he wanted to wait until Gentry was settled and Visha not so jumpy. Feeling guilty about the situation he’d put her in, Kit looked over at Gentry.
She was still hugging herself, both of her hands white on the straps of her backpack, and the stains of red on her now-gray shirt.
He could see fresh blood going through it.
Fuck, I have to get better at healing spells.
"Can you take a look at Gentry's arms?" he asked Visha.
"I tried stitching them up, but..." He shrugged.
His ex rolled her eyes and nodded. She pressed the back of her hand against his cheek.
Kit recoiled. Her fingers were cool. Visha laughed at the small revenge she’d taken upon him before going to the kitchenette to stir at a pot on the stove.
Kit relaxed a little at the bit of normalcy.
Vindictive though Visha could be, she took being a healer seriously. Gentry couldn’t be in better hands.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Gentry asked.
“No,” Kit said, to the point.
“He broke up with me,” Visha answered from the kitchenette, “and it was the week of my birthday, can you imagine?”
The magic-less girl cocked her head and looked between the two of them, like they were a puzzle she couldn’t figure out. She then shrugged and sat down at a bunk unmarred by Visha’s clutter.
He tried to fight off the wave of disappointment at her reaction.
She’d been all over him at the hotel. Had it meant nothing to her?
She just played you last night like you tried to do to her, dumbass.
Why would she be jealous? His logical side sucked, although he could see it was right.
After years of Visha acting like such a jealous bitch, why would he want Gentry acting like that?
Maybe it was because he saw a future with her now, or at least one where they’d both be living and free from the Nethertons and everyone after her.
He could make this work. They were already out in the desert with plenty of rations.
The map on the side of the bunker could be extrapolated with his watch so that they could get out when they were closest to the barrier in the Wilds.
The only catch was that his crazy ex would be going with them.