The Degenerate (Mythics Book One)

19

"Sit down! Eat!" I whirled to find Rafe walking toward us with his arms spread. "I see that look in your eyes, Ivory. You're thinking way too hard."

I furrowed my brows, slightly ruffled. The wizard was dressed in his long coat from last night, and I thought I might be right, that he liked the dramatics of it. His cherry-colored hair was rumpled, like he'd just rolled out of bed.

"At least I can think," I shot back.

Rafe pressed a hand to his chest in mock-pain, but laughter glimmered in his eyes. He turned his assault to Theo, who stood beside me, watching warily.

Rafe gave a small laugh. "Man, you're worse than a werewolf, Theodore."

"It's just Theo," he muttered, rolling his eyes. The comment ruffled him, although I couldn't think too hard about its meaning without blushing a little.

"I admit, I sort of thought you were a werewolf when you first woke up. Maybe a vampire? Those guys definitely have the brooding down." Rafe chuckled, and Theo did a fairly spectacular show of keeping a stoic expression on his face. "A simple identification spell would have done the trick, but," he gestured to his neck, where the collar used to be, "I was slightly incapacitated at the time."

My stomach rolled uneasily as I thought back to the previous day, about how close we were to being captured and sent to who-knew-where within the military. Various theories existed about what they did with mythics after they caught them. Some said they cut them open for experimentation. Others insisted that we were bred and brainwashed into becoming merciless assassins and soldiers to fight their wars. I wasn't sure which idea was worse.

A hint of gravity crept into Rafe's blue-eyed gaze. "Your kind," he told Theo, "is very rare. Hard to find and nearly impossible to track."

A muscle ticked in Theo's jaw. He swallowed and said, "How would you know that?"

Rafe smirked. "Common sense, dude. What else would an immortal do? Haven't you ever read a sappy romance novel?" He tsked. "I also know because the government has absolutely no information on your kind. No wanted ads filling the news streams or popping up on my phone. Scions," he said matter-of-factly, "are highly dangerous, if only because they're so rare and so unpredictable. You know humans, always fearing things they don't understand."

The only thing that pulled me from filling away the fact that Rafe sometimes read sappy romance novels was the flare of anger within him. His emotions were easy for someone like me to read, effortless. When he felt things, I was coming to realize, he felt them strongly. Every single time. While he spoke with a showman's ease, the flare of sour heat that I sensed was undeniable.

"Scions are human," Theo said with a shrug of one shoulder. "Simple as that."

Rafe laughed sharply. "Human but, simply, more. Maybe it was a deal with the devil or some other tainting of dark magic, but Scions are definitely supernatural. Something so powerful that a few bloodlines all over the world carry that magic in their veins, to this day. I don't think anyone would call your great-grandfather human, do you?"

Theo's entire body tensed up. "You don't know anything," he bit out. "Stop sticking your nose into something that you can never understand."

I squeezed Theo's hand, wondering why Rafe probably had a death wish.

"You know what?" Theo told him darkly. "You're not worth my time. I'll save us a seat, Ivy."

He stalked off, leaving a trail of tension and agitation in his wake. Little bits of emotion tended to leak into the air when he was particularly upset. That was how I knew this little conversation had bothered him so much.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "Why do you always push him too far?"

Rafe pressed his lips together. "I don't trust him."

"What?" I burst out. "You took us here!"

"I trust you," he said pointedly. "I trust him when he's with you. Otherwise? I've never met someone of his kind before. I need to figure out his habits, how he behaves."

The way he spoke sounded as if he were discussing a lab experiment. I wasn't sure where this was coming from, but I loathed it. "He's given you no reason to distrust him."

"He's been fine," Rafe commended. "However, these people rely on me for everything from their safety to the food on their plates. I will not put them in danger, and while I don't know Theo, there will be certain precautions I'll take to feel him out. I need to know how much of a danger he poses, should things travel downhill."

I scowled at him. "And what makes you so certain you can trust me?" I demanded.

"You don't sing. Even when your life is in danger, you refuse to even hum."

I opened my mouth. Then closed it.

"I'm not judging you," he said softly. "Not at all. But you're not much of a threat without that power."

He was right, of course. It was a decision I had made long ago, as soon as I'd found out about that monster living deep inside me. The one that a mere drop of water can bring to the surface. I've never even tried to sing before. That power was not mine. It belonged to the monster.