“Shamus,” Zayvion said, “may I have a word with you?” Zay let go of the spell and stood up in one smooth, graceful motion that showed just how many years this man had spent sparring.
Shame didn’t have time to answer because Zay closed in on him, fast and silent as a panther, and forced him toward the far side of the room.
I shook my head. Those two acted like brothers even though they were physically about as different as two people could get. Zay and Shame were far enough across the room that I shouldn’t have been able to hear what they were saying. But Hounding for a living meant I had good ears. There was a chance I would’ve been able to spring into action if Shame had needed me to save his life or something.
“. . ever throw ice at me again, I am going to beat you with that bucket. Do you understand me?”
“Oh, please. Like I should take you seriously. You haven’t raised a finger in two months.”
“Listen.” Zay paused, lowered his voice. “This is different.” He paused again. “I need you to respect what Allie and I have or you and I are going to have real problems.”
“Respect?” Shamus asked, just as quietly. “I’m filled with envy.”
“Then stop being an ass.”
Shame snorted, then raised his voice, obviously talking to me. “Aren’t you going to ask why I came by?”
I shrugged the shoulder that didn’t hurt. “You need a reason to harass Zay?”
“Hell, no. But I’m not here to talk to Zay. I’m here for you.” He strolled across the room toward me.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“My mum wants to see you.”
“Did she say why?” I asked.
“Officially?”
“At all.”
“There’s a storm coming,” he said, all the joking gone now.
Zayvion stiffened. I watched as the relaxed, laughing man I’d spent the last few weeks with was slowly replaced by an emotionless wall of control, of calm, of duty.
“What kind of storm?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure what the answer would be.
“Wild magic,” he said. “And it’s aiming straight for the city.”