Trees blurred as I darted around them and under low-hanging branches. Jumping over bushes and boulders, I moved ahead of Dawson. The speed tore at my hair, pulling it free from my ponytail. A laugh escaped my throat. As I ran, I forgot about the stupid jealousy, the lingering issue of Will, and even what we had to do later that night.
Running like this, as fast as the wind, was freeing.
Daemon blew past us, reaching the stream a good ten seconds before we did. Slowing down was an issue. You couldn’t just stop, not at this speed. You’d face-plant into the ground in seconds. So I dug my feet in, kicking up sediment and loose rock as I slid the last few inches.
Daemon’s arm shot out, wrapping around my waist so I didn’t end up in the lake. Laughing, I spun around and reached up, kissing his cheek.
He grinned. “Your eyes are glowing.”
“Really—like yours do? The whole diamond shining thing?”
Dawson stopped, knocking the mop of hair off his forehead. “Nah, just the color’s luminous. It’s pretty.”
“It’s beautiful,” Daemon corrected. “But you better be careful not to do that in front of people.” When I nodded, he walked over to his brother, clapping him on his back. “Why don’t we call it quits? Both of you are good to go, and I’m starving.”
A thrill of pride sparked inside me until I remembered how important tonight would be. I couldn’t be the weakest link. “You guys go ahead and head back. I’m going to do some more runs.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I want to run circles around you.”
“Never going to happen, Kitten.” He swaggered up to me and kissed my cheek. “You might as well give it up.”
I pushed at his chest playfully. “One of these days you’re going to eat crow.”
“I doubt any of us will be around to see that.” Dawson grinned at his brother.
My heart stopped when I saw the two of them joking, and I forced my expression to remain the same, although I saw Daemon falter a little. Unaware of the importance of the exchange, Dawson knocked his hair back again and started toward the house.
“Race you, brother,” Dawson called.
Go, I mouthed at Daemon.
He sent me a quick smile and then trotted up to his brother. “You know you’re going to lose.”
“Probably, but hey, it’s good for your ego, right?”
Like he needed help with that, but I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy as they joked and then took off. I waited a few minutes, cleared my thoughts, and then jogged back toward the house. At normal speed, it took about five minutes if I was adding correctly. Once at the tree line, I spun around and got ready. Feeling the Source snap loose, I launched forward.
Two minutes.
I did it again and timed it.
A minute and thirty seconds the second trip back. I did it again and again, until my muscles burned along with my lungs and the five-minute jog took me fifty seconds. I didn’t think I could get any better than that.
And the funny thing was that even though my muscles were shaky, they didn’t hurt. Like I’d been running this way for years, and I pretty much ran from the front of the bookstore to the new release section and that was all.
Stretching, I watched the sun filter through the trees and bounce off the partially frozen creek. Spring wasn’t too far away. I pushed at my hair, tucked it over one shoulder. That was, if we all made it out of Mount Weather tonight.
“I was wrong. You really don’t need practice.”
I whirled at the sound of Blake’s voice. Standing several feet away, he leaned against a thick tree, hands in his pockets. Unease and discord balled in my stomach.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, keeping my voice even.
Blake shrugged. “Watching.”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy or anything.”
He smiled tightly. “I probably should have thought of a better way of phrasing that. I was watching you all run. You guys are good—you’re great. Daedalus would love to have you on board.”
The ball in my stomach grew. “Is that a threat?”
“No.” He blinked, cheeks flushing. “God, no, I just meant that you’re that good. You’re what they want in a hybrid.”
“Like you?”
His gaze dropped to the ground. “Yeah, like me.”
This was awkward and breathing the same air as Blake irritated me. Normally, I didn’t hold grudges, but I made an exception with him. I started heading back to the house.
“Are you worried about tonight?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
He was beside me quickly. “Why not?”
Why not? Seriously? Why not? That question enraged me. Without thinking, I snapped around and slammed my fist into his solar plexus. Air expelled from him in a rush and giddy satisfaction planted a smile on my face.
“God!” he grunted, doubling over. “What is up with you chicks hitting me?”
“You deserve much worse than that.” I pivoted around before I hit him again and restarted my trek back. “Why don’t I want to talk to you? Why don’t we ask Adam?”
“Okay.” He caught up with me, rubbing his stomach. “You’re right. But I’ve said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix things like this.” I took a breath, squinting at the harsh glare of the sun cutting through the branches. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.
“I’m trying to make up for it.”
I laughed at the ridiculous notion that he could make up for all that he had done. Ever since the night Adam died, a part of me understood capital punishment and why it was created. Maybe not a life for a life, but I got the whole life-in-prison thing.