Spark Page 2


“No.”

Nick turned in his seat. “Make sure you open the door for her. Girls eat that crap up.”

“Nah,” said Gabriel. “Play it cool. Make her work for it”

“For god’s sake,” Chris snapped. “She just broke up with Hunter, like, yesterday, so it’s not like that. Okay?”

Jesus. Someone was worked up. Gabriel glanced back again.

“But she asked you for a ride.”

Chris looked back out the window. “I offered.”

Nick turned his head to look at his twin. “Very nervous,” he whispered.

Gabriel smiled and turned into Becca’s driveway. “Very.”

“Would you two shut up? ”

Becca was waiting on the front step, her arms around her knees and her hands drawn up into the sleeves of a fleece pull-over, dark hair hanging down her back.

“She looks upset,” said Nick.

She did, her eyes dark and shadowed, her shoulders hunched.

Or maybe she was just cold. Gabriel wasn’t one for figuring out emotion.

Her face brightened when she saw them, and she sprinted for the car almost before Chris had time to jump out and hold the door for her.

She stopped short in front of him, spots of pink on her cheeks.

“Hey,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Hey,” Chris said back, his voice soft and low.

Then they just stood there breathing at each other.

Gabriel hit the horn.

They jumped apart but Chris punched him in the shoulder when he climbed back into the car.

Becca buckled her seat belt. “I’m glad you’re all here.”

Her voice was full of anxiety. So Nick had been right.

Chris shifted to look at her. “You all right?”

She shook her head. “My dad just called. He wants to meet with me. Tonight.”

No one said anything for a moment, leaving her words floating in the warm confines of the car.

Her dad was the Elemental Guide who’d been sent to kill them all.

When they escaped and didn’t hear anything for two days, they’d all started to think he’d run off again, the way he had when Becca was eleven.

Chris took a breath, and his voice was careful. “Do you want to meet with him? ”

Gabriel glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was practically hunched against the door, staring out the window. “I want him to get the hell out of here.”

Chris was still watching her. “He is your father.” He paused.

“You sure?”

“He might have made a ‘contribution,’ but that man is not my father.”

“I want to see him,” said Gabriel. His shoulders already felt tight.

She hesitated. “Wait. You’d . . . go with me?”

“Yeah. I owe him a little payback.”

“We,” said Nick. There was heat in his voice, too.

“Did he say why he wanted to meet?” asked Chris.

“He said he wants to help us. That they’ll send another Guide if he doesn’t report back that you were . . . um . . .”

“Killed.” Gabriel hit the turn signal at the end of her road.

She swallowed. “Yeah. Hey, make a left. We need to pick up Quinn.”

Gabriel glanced at her again. He wasn’t a big fan of Becca’s best friend, so the last thing he wanted to do was pick her up especially when there was so much left to talk about. “Anyone else?” he said. “Should I pick up Hunter, too?”

Becca faltered and glanced at Chris. “I’m sorry . . . I should have asked ”

“It’s fine,” he said, and Gabriel could feel his youngest brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure he’s not inten-tionally being a dick.”

Gabriel ignored him. “What time tonight? Did he say where?”

“Annapolis Mall. Eight o’clock. Make a right at the stop sign. She’s down at the end of the block.”

“He wants to meet at the mall? ” said Nick.

“Food court,” said Becca. “I told him it had to be somewhere public.”

“Great,” said Gabriel. “More people in the line of fire.”

“Do you think the mall was a mistake?” said Becca.

Gabriel shrugged. Her father hadn’t hesitated to put normal people in danger last week.

But really, what difference did it make?

They were pulling alongside the curb, and Quinn threw open the door and launched herself inside. Blond hair was caught inside her jacket, and her backpack was barely zipped. Notebooks spilled onto the floorboards before she could get the door shut.

“Jesus, drive, ” Quinn said, hitting the back of his seat. “God, I hate my mother.”

She was just so frigging overdramatic. Gabriel pulled the car away from the curb, deliberately moving as slowly as possible.

But Nick turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Everything all right?”

Quinn shoved the notebooks back into her bag and yanked the zipper. “I’m stuck living with Satan. When’s the car situation going to improve, Bex? I can’t keep doing this.”

Nick was still looking into the backseat. “We can keep driving you to school, if you need a ride.”

Quinn stopped fighting with her things and looked up at him.

“Really?”

“We’d love it,” said Gabriel, making sure his sarcasm carried an edge. “Maybe we can pick up half the junior class.”

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