Sacrifice
Page 86
“Take a picture,” Tyler muttered without looking up. “It’ll last longer.”
“Original.” Along with the height, he’d grown into a crappy attitude, too. “Who are you texting?”
“None of your business.”
She didn’t really care, but it was easier to bicker with Tyler than to fight with her parents. “Sounds like a girl.”
He shot her a glare over the phone. “Well, you sound like a—”
“Tyler.” Their mother’s voice sliced through his coming insult. “No electronics during dinner.”
He made a disgusted sound and put the phone in his lap.
But Emily knew he’d be back at it as soon as their folks were distracted again.
“What did he say to you?” said her father.
“Nothing.” She pushed the food around her plate again. She hadn’t mentioned her own actions with the putter—and didn’t plan on telling them now. “He just came in to use the batting cages. It was fine.”
“Convenient,” snapped her father. “Your first day of work, you’re alone, he comes in there—”
“He said he goes there all the time!”
Her parents went still. It was the wrong thing to say.
“I don’t want you going back there,” said her mother, her voice hushed.
“It’s fine—”
“The hell it is,” said her father. “I’ve been talking to Josh Drake. He thinks we should just take care of the problem ourselves.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Seth’s dad says that every time he cracks open a beer.”
Though he was a few years younger, Seth Drake was Tyler’s best friend. He was an Earth Elemental like his dad—and like Michael Merrick—but the Drake abilities stopped at pulling strength from the ground they stood on. Emily had no idea where Michael’s abilities stopped.
And that was part of the problem.
“I think we might all be overreacting,” said Emily. “He didn’t start anything—”
“Overreacting?” Tyler threw his fork down against his plate.
“You saw what that ass**le did to me.”
“Tyler!” said their mother. “I won’t have that language at the table.”
Emily stared at him. “And what exactly happened again?”
He stared back at her for a beat. “I told you,” he said evenly. “He jumped me and Seth.”
“That’s it,” said her father. “I’m calling over there.”
“To Seth’s?” said Tyler.
“No. To the Merricks.”
Michael heard the garage phone ring while he was out back, playing catch with his youngest brother. He was tired from work and the batting cages, but he’d found the twins pinning Chris in the hallway, trying to spit into his mouth.
Michael never cared if Gabriel and Nick beat the crap out of each other, but he hated when they ganged up on Chris.
So now they were killing time out back until the twins found some other trouble to get into.
Someone else must have grabbed the phone, because the ringer cut off quickly. Michael hadn’t even bothered moving. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had called the house to talk to him.
“You’re so lucky,” said Chris, pelting the ball back to him.
It went wide. Michael stretched to reach it, and the ball smacked into his mitt. “Lucky?”
“Yeah. You get to go to work with Dad all day. I’m stuck here.”
Michael threw the ball back. This was the first summer Chris and the twins had been deemed old enough to stay home alone while their parents worked. “Do they pull that crap all day long?”
“Nah.” Chris caught the ball and shrugged. “It’s just boring.”
Boring. A code word for lonely. Michael remembered being too young to drive, before he knew about his abilities, when summertime seemed to stretch out with infinite possibilities—and ended up basically being three months of house arrest. He regretted not stopping at home to bring Chris along to the batting cages—but then he considered Emily and the putter and thanked god he hadn’t bothered. That was a story he didn’t need Chris dragging home to their parents.
“I’ll talk to Dad,” he said. “Maybe you can come along for some of the smaller jobs.”
“Really?” Chris flung the ball back. “That would be awesome! I’ll go every day! We could—”
“Easy.” Michael smiled. Chris had to be lonely if he was willing to spend his summer pushing a mower and laying mulch. “I said I’d ask.”
Then he wondered if something more than boredom was motivating his little brother. He remembered himself at Chris’s age, how his element had begun calling to him, how he’d wanted to be outside all the time. Neither Chris nor the twins had shown any inclinations yet—but maybe it was right around the corner.
The thought was both exciting and terrifying.
And the worst part was that a selfish little piece of Michael wished one of his brothers would turn out to be as powerful as he was—just so he didn’t have to carry this burden alone.
As soon as he had the thought, he squashed it.
The back door slid open and their mother stuck her head out. “Michael?”
Chris had flung the ball hard, so Michael didn’t look over. “Yeah?”
“Can you come in here for a moment?”
“Original.” Along with the height, he’d grown into a crappy attitude, too. “Who are you texting?”
“None of your business.”
She didn’t really care, but it was easier to bicker with Tyler than to fight with her parents. “Sounds like a girl.”
He shot her a glare over the phone. “Well, you sound like a—”
“Tyler.” Their mother’s voice sliced through his coming insult. “No electronics during dinner.”
He made a disgusted sound and put the phone in his lap.
But Emily knew he’d be back at it as soon as their folks were distracted again.
“What did he say to you?” said her father.
“Nothing.” She pushed the food around her plate again. She hadn’t mentioned her own actions with the putter—and didn’t plan on telling them now. “He just came in to use the batting cages. It was fine.”
“Convenient,” snapped her father. “Your first day of work, you’re alone, he comes in there—”
“He said he goes there all the time!”
Her parents went still. It was the wrong thing to say.
“I don’t want you going back there,” said her mother, her voice hushed.
“It’s fine—”
“The hell it is,” said her father. “I’ve been talking to Josh Drake. He thinks we should just take care of the problem ourselves.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Seth’s dad says that every time he cracks open a beer.”
Though he was a few years younger, Seth Drake was Tyler’s best friend. He was an Earth Elemental like his dad—and like Michael Merrick—but the Drake abilities stopped at pulling strength from the ground they stood on. Emily had no idea where Michael’s abilities stopped.
And that was part of the problem.
“I think we might all be overreacting,” said Emily. “He didn’t start anything—”
“Overreacting?” Tyler threw his fork down against his plate.
“You saw what that ass**le did to me.”
“Tyler!” said their mother. “I won’t have that language at the table.”
Emily stared at him. “And what exactly happened again?”
He stared back at her for a beat. “I told you,” he said evenly. “He jumped me and Seth.”
“That’s it,” said her father. “I’m calling over there.”
“To Seth’s?” said Tyler.
“No. To the Merricks.”
Michael heard the garage phone ring while he was out back, playing catch with his youngest brother. He was tired from work and the batting cages, but he’d found the twins pinning Chris in the hallway, trying to spit into his mouth.
Michael never cared if Gabriel and Nick beat the crap out of each other, but he hated when they ganged up on Chris.
So now they were killing time out back until the twins found some other trouble to get into.
Someone else must have grabbed the phone, because the ringer cut off quickly. Michael hadn’t even bothered moving. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had called the house to talk to him.
“You’re so lucky,” said Chris, pelting the ball back to him.
It went wide. Michael stretched to reach it, and the ball smacked into his mitt. “Lucky?”
“Yeah. You get to go to work with Dad all day. I’m stuck here.”
Michael threw the ball back. This was the first summer Chris and the twins had been deemed old enough to stay home alone while their parents worked. “Do they pull that crap all day long?”
“Nah.” Chris caught the ball and shrugged. “It’s just boring.”
Boring. A code word for lonely. Michael remembered being too young to drive, before he knew about his abilities, when summertime seemed to stretch out with infinite possibilities—and ended up basically being three months of house arrest. He regretted not stopping at home to bring Chris along to the batting cages—but then he considered Emily and the putter and thanked god he hadn’t bothered. That was a story he didn’t need Chris dragging home to their parents.
“I’ll talk to Dad,” he said. “Maybe you can come along for some of the smaller jobs.”
“Really?” Chris flung the ball back. “That would be awesome! I’ll go every day! We could—”
“Easy.” Michael smiled. Chris had to be lonely if he was willing to spend his summer pushing a mower and laying mulch. “I said I’d ask.”
Then he wondered if something more than boredom was motivating his little brother. He remembered himself at Chris’s age, how his element had begun calling to him, how he’d wanted to be outside all the time. Neither Chris nor the twins had shown any inclinations yet—but maybe it was right around the corner.
The thought was both exciting and terrifying.
And the worst part was that a selfish little piece of Michael wished one of his brothers would turn out to be as powerful as he was—just so he didn’t have to carry this burden alone.
As soon as he had the thought, he squashed it.
The back door slid open and their mother stuck her head out. “Michael?”
Chris had flung the ball hard, so Michael didn’t look over. “Yeah?”
“Can you come in here for a moment?”
