Stay Away

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After spending nearly an hour on the ice with Barapha at my side, I managed to make three full revolutions all on my own and I only fell once...and an epic wipeout it was. I was just building up a little speed, I was feeling confident and the toe pick on my skate caught a scar in the ice.

I went flying forward, bruising my knees and scratching up the heels of my hands. After making sure that I was okay, Barapha burst out laughing. My face flamed, but I couldn't stay angry for more than a few seconds; for a murderous frost monster, Barapha's laughter was beautiful and utterly contagious.

"Alright, I think you deserve a break after that one. Let's get a drink," he said still chuckling even as he helped me to my feet. We made our way off the ice, and he led me back behind the skate rental counter sitting me down to remove my skates. Then he stood and took my hands in his looking down at my palms.

"Damn, I am good," he murmured smoothing his thumbs gently across the heels of my hands. The scratches were gone leaving my skin pink from the cold but otherwise unscathed. He placed my hands back in my lap and asked, "Cold drink or hot?"

"Huh?" I mumbled feeling sweat bead along my spine. Barapha smirked and bent forward placing a hand on each arm of the chair I was sitting in. He leaned so close I could feel his frigid breath against my skin.

"Would you like something hot to drink, or something cold?" he asked gazing into my eyes. A smile spread across my face, and I replied, "Definitely something cold." He leaned even closer, so close I could almost taste the cold, glittering life within. I moved forward to close the inch of space between us, but before I could, he turned away saying, "Stay right there. I'll be back in a second." He leapt over the counter and started towards the snack bar. I sighed and sat back in my seat watching him walk away.

After a moment, I looked away and grabbed my phone which I had left in Barapha's bag along with my keys and wallet for fear they would be smashed to bits if I fell on them. I tapped in my pin and found a string of incoherent emojis from Sissy along with a few snaps of her and Kenzie posing in their designer active wear with cups of colorful juice in their hands and sexy dryad yoga instructors hanging off their arms. I smiled and replied with a similar string of unintelligible emojis.

There were also a few texts from Octavia. I glanced up to make sure Barapha was still at the snack bar and then opened Octavia's messages. The first was conversational:

Hey, Chase. What's up? How are you?

The second was straight to the point:

Have you ever heard of some group called The Iron Lance?

I blinked at the screen and moved on to the third message:

Some older lady was going door to door handing out pamphlets. I was unlucky enough to be the one who answered. Old bitty talked my ear off for nearly ten minutes. She only left because I started signing and she thought I was deaf.

The next message was a picture of a bright red pamphlet covered in bold black print and a few alarming, quasi-religious images. Octavia had captioned the photo Is this for real?

I felt a layer of anxious sweat break out on the palms of my hands. I took a deep breath before bending over the phone and replying: Yes, I have heard of them and yes, unfortunately, they are for real. You should stay away from them.

"Who are you talking to?" Barapha asked and I jumped nearly dropping my phone. He slid across the counter and offered me an ice-cold bottle of lemon-lime soda. I looked up at him and took the soda saying, "Octavia. Apparently, there are people in her neighborhood handing out flyers for The Iron Lance."

His eyes widened and he sat down next to me with a cup of steaming hot cocoa. He leaned in to look at my phone and scoffed at the picture of the pamphlet. The phone jingled and a new message popped up.

Octavia: Who are they?

Barapha rolled his eyes muttering, "Bunch of jumped-up humans too delusional to recognize just how low on the food chain they are." I glanced at him and then back at my phone.

Me: They are an anti-Mythic hate group that uses religion as an excuse to commit petty crimes and treat Mythics like second class citizens.

I sent the message and set my phone aside cracking open my soda.

"Where does she live now anyway? There aren't a lot of neighborhoods where that shit gets handed out door to door," Barapha asked sipping at his cocoa. I considered him for a long moment before replying, "Watermill."

He grimaced and said, "Yeesh. And her...what was it? Cousin? The empath? He lives there too." I nodded and he asked, "How's that? Not even Lights are allowed to live in that place." I shrugged and mumbled, "His abilities manifested after he got his first ID and he--" I cut off. It probably wasn't a good idea to share incriminating information about Nikolai. There was no telling what Barapha would do with it.

"He what?" Barapha asked, but I was saved by a text alert.

Octavia: What a bunch of dicks! Maybe Augie, Celeste and I can invade the organization and dismantle it from the inside.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Barapha laughed and said, "Gotta admit, the girl's got a brass pair for a human." I shook my head and furiously typed:

You had better be joking, young lady. Most of The IL are a bunch of racist idiots, but some of them are dangerous and see no difference between Mythics and the humans they befriend. Stay. Away. From. Them.

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