Out in the open, in the real-world scenarios where such things happened, Christine doubted any of them would have survived. Altair had killed the team with his selfish ego, and the worst part of it was that he couldn’t see that he was being selfish, only thinking of himself. That he was proving he didn’t care about anyone else.
“Everything okay?”
She turned to see Becca—Rebecca Florentine—standing nearby, leaning against one of the stacks.
“Hey, Becs,” she said, using the even shorter abbreviation of the woman’s name. “What’s up?”
“I, uh, I saw you. Well, more like I heard you and him. Thought I’d come over after he left. See how you’re doing?”
Christine gestured at the empty chairs at her table. “Come on down. You can be the next contestant.”
“Oh boy, what am I competing for?” Becca asked with a little smile, sliding easily into one of the seats.
“A chance to unfuck this situation.”
“Haha. I’m going to pass on this one. I bid one dollar.”
Christine glared. “Now that’s not very nice.”
“Sorry, Chris, but this is your situation to resolve. You need to get him in line, and soon. Otherwise, next time he’s going to get us all killed. Or worse, he’s going to pull some brain-dead stunt like that while we’re out there. And we’ll be dead for real. This is dangerous enough without him.”
“What?” she rocked back in her chair. “Why the heck is this my responsibility?”
Rebecca gave her a long look. “Are you seriously going to make me explain that?”
Frustrated at everything, Christine almost snapped at the other woman. Catching herself just in time, she took a long, slow breath in. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it. I’m clearly not thinking straight if it’s so obvious to you.”
“He does seem to have you a little distracted,” Rebecca teased, then sobered at the glare she received. “Sorry. Anyway, it’s obvious to everyone else that you’re wanting command of the team. You’ve been gunning for it from the start, and honestly, either you or Mads is going to get it.”
Christine nodded. Maddison Gardener was her real competition for the leadership spot, and if Christine couldn’t have it, Gardener was the one woman of the group she would feel most comfortable in her place.
“If you want it though, you have to put in the effort,” Becca explained. “That means on and off the battlefield. We need to operate as a team, working together. We can’t have someone just waiting to run off and do their own thing at every interval. You know that as well as I do. One more stunt like that, and he’s likely to be kicked from the program.”
“I know,” Christine agreed. “There’s a lot of possibilities of working together, of ways that he can strengthen our team. I’d hate to lose him. I just don’t know how to get through to him.”
“Use your connection.”
Christine stared blankly. “Huh?”
Becca smiled, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious, right? The two of you clearly have some sort of thing, don’t you? We can all see it, Chris. We’re not blind you know. He’s always staring at you—even when you’re not looking, he watches you.”
“It’s not my fault he likes to look at me,” she pointed out. “I wouldn’t know why, but maybe he finds me attractive. That’s not under my control.”
“Right.” Becca didn’t look like she was buying the reasoning. “I might believe that, if it weren’t for the part where you’re always looking back, stealing glances at him, looking at him while talking to the entire team.”
Christine was speechless with anger at being called out. Had she really been doing that? How dare Rebecca insinuate such a thing!
Are you mad about her accusing you of being obsessed with Altair? Or are you mad that she’s right, and you just don’t want to admit it to yourself?
“Am I really doing that?” she asked, wanting confirmation that it wasn’t some sort of joke, that Becca really was serious.
“You two were having a staring contest while the snow elementals overran us on the first day,” Becca pointed out. “Not a glaring, anger-filled hate show. But a starry-eyed, lovey-dovey thing. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize that?”
“I...uh...” Christine blushed, not sure what to say. She’d tried to push that from her mind, labeling it a momentary weakness.
But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was indicative of something more, by the sounds of it.
“Anyway, whatever is going on between you two is none of my business—”
“Nothing is going on,” Christine said forcefully. “Why does everyone keep assuming that?”
Rebecca looked at her in silence, her face screaming the answer.
“It’s not,” Christine added flatly.
“All I’m saying, is if he keeps this up, he’s going to get kicked off the team.” Becca shrugged helplessly. “You’re the best bet to get him in line.”
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Christine said, ignoring the last part of the other witch’s comment.
“Just a moment ago, you agreed with me and were saying it yourself,” Becca pointed out. “What changed?”
“I thought about it a bit more. Remember, no other dragons volunteered to go. How bad would it look and be for our relations with the dragons if Circe suddenly did an about face and said, ‘Thanks but no thanks, you’re a nutcase.” No matter how diplomatically she worded it, that would be bad.”
Becca nodded. “That all makes sense. I can agree with that.”
Christine grimaced unhappily. “Why I do I feel like I just made your point for you somehow, and you’re about to drop the hammer on me?”
The other woman grinned. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Your shit-eating grin, for starters?” Christine said dryly.
“Think about it,” Becca said. “If we can’t kick him off the team, if he’s here to stay, then that means we need to get him in line. We need to make him part of the team. And you, dear leader, are our best choice for that. You can’t really
