Proudly, I hold up my invention to Titus. “I’ll have to get a new backpack, of course. One that has a drawstring opening on top so I can pull the whip out quickly, but this gives me access to the handle and lets me conceal what it is.”
Titus’ eyebrows rise before he laughs heartily. “That’s brilliant.”
“Thanks,” I exclaim, feeling accomplished.
“Another reason you should become an annihilator,” he says in that deep voice that sounds like an earthquake in his chest when he talks.
I blink in surprise. “Because I can holster a whip to a backpack?”
“Because you’re sharp-witted and clever,” he replies. “Add your fighting skills, which are coming along very well, and you’d sail through the Academy and the gauntlet.”
I’m intrigued. “The gauntlet?”
Titus brings his knees up, plants his feet onto the wooden floor, and leans back on his palms. It causes all the muscles in his arms to ripple and lock tight. “The gauntlet is an incredibly difficult test you have to pass after you graduate from the academy. But with the wits you have, I’m sure you’d ace it.”
Sighing, I imagine a life on the Semper Terra he described to me before. Tropical waters, green jungles, and the ability to fly.
Also the duty to learn how to destroy Dark Fae and daemons, and that right there is my hesitation. I don’t know that I have it in me to do that. Titus said that most people who go to the Academy are generational students, following in a family member’s footsteps. They’ve had lifetimes to grow to hate the danger fae and daemons can present. Killing would come much easier to them than me.
And while yes, I’ve seen a succubus up close and personal, and I know they are killing machines, I’m just not sure how to destroy a life. Maybe it will just come to me when in a situation that calls for it. I’m sure I could do it if it were life-or-death or in defense of someone. But could I go out and hunt one down to kill because I’d been told by some higher-ups in Semper Terra to do so?
It’s moot, really. I’m a coffee shop owner in Seattle. I have no interest in leaving here.
Just as I have no interest in being part of a prophecy.
And so why did you agree to keep training? that little inner voice asks.
“Tell me what’s going on with you,” Titus says, and it jolts me out of my thoughts.
My eyes snap to his. “What do you mean?”
Titus lets his legs stretch out, crossing them at the ankle but still leans back on his palms. He merely cocks an eyebrow.
“Oh,” I drawl dramatically as if a light bulb had just gone off. “You mean what’s going on with me since I saw my sister become a Dark Fae, had a weird white feather tattoo show up on my leg, and found out I’m part of a prophecy that could ruin the earth?”
My last few words took on a sarcastic tone that bounced right off Titus. He grins. “Yeah… that.”
And despite the fact I feel like I want to laugh at the way he’s teasing me, he’s asked me a question where the answers are a heavy burden on my soul. Before I know it, my eyes are filling with tears.
I don’t bother dashing them away or hiding them. Oddly, I feel so comfortable with Titus that I don’t mind him seeing me cry. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m a tough woman, and, on most occasions, fearless, that I don’t mind letting him see I have vulnerabilities.
My head hangs as I let the tears just fall down onto my black workout pants.
Titus’ voice is tender, and it washes over me. “Just let it out, girl.”
And I do. I take a moment to let these pockets of grief that have been building up inside of me out, purging the heavy emotion with it.
Titus stands. His tennis shoes squeak as he walks across the wooden floor and out of the room. He’s back in less than a minute, holding a wad of toilet paper he must have pilfered from the bathroom, which he sticks under my hanging head so I can see it.
“Thanks,” I mutter in a watery voice and use the tissue to sop my eyes and blow my nose.
When I look back up, Titus is once again sitting across from me with his legs kicked out. The expression on his face is tender, and I’m grateful it’s him and not Carrick who I decided to have a crying jag in front of. I imagine Carrick would look put out and frustrated, but Titus confirms I’m safe with him even if it’s just to have a snotty moment.
“I’m sorry.” I give a little laugh. “It hits me at odd times.”
“You just lost your sister four days ago, Finley. I’d cut yourself some slack.”
I nod. He’s right, and I give myself the grace he suggests. “What’s worse than watching her change into a Dark Fae is not knowing if my sister is still inside or if she’s dead.”
“Carrick and Zaid have been researching and reaching out to contacts all over the world. They’re trying to find answers as to what happened to Fallon.”
I blink in surprise. I didn’t know Carrick was going to those lengths as he certainly hadn’t said that just yesterday when he came to the Fantasia. I had assumed he wouldn’t lift a finger to help me find out what happened to Fallon unless I agreed to join Team Prophecy.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “I don’t know what to do, Titus. I don’t want to be a part of this. I want to go back to my normal and dull life. I don’t want to see fae and daemons anymore. I just want to be a coffee shop owner and maybe date a cute, normal guy.”
Titus’ gaze is sympathetic to my plight. “You’ve got a lot on you, and I can’t even imagine the burden. If it helps, I think your shoulders are strong enough to bear it.”
“But I don’t want to bear it,” I reiterate.
“We don’t always get what we want,” he points out.
I glare. “Well, it’s not fair. Why do I have to be a player in a game I don’t want to play?”
“Because most likely many people on this planet will die if you don’t,” he suggests.
“So I’ve been told,” I mutter, then growl in frustration. “I just feel so alone, and I’m scared.”
Titus shakes his head with an admonishing look, causing the long dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders to sway. “But you’re not alone. You have Carrick and Zaid. You definitely have me.”
“Carrick can’t stand me, and Zaid hates everyone,” I reply petulantly. “And yes, I have you, but you have a life, too. You’re just here to train me.”
“I’m your friend, Finley. You can count on me.”
My lips tip upward in a fragile smile. “Thank you. You can count on me too, but not sure how a wimpy woman like me could help a big, badass annihilator.”
Titus laughs, white teeth blazing. “I’d definitely have you at my back in a fight, Finley. You’re incredibly good.”
“Well,” I say as I start shoving all the stuff I had spilled out of my pack back in. “I’m sure my sore muscles tomorrow will disagree with you.”
“Same time tomorrow?” he queries as he pops to his feet and extends a hand to help me up. When I grab hold, he hoists me to my feet, backpack and all.
Just as I start to shrug it on, my phone starts ringing inside. My body locks tight as my blood turns cold.