“You like her,” the storm dragon said, letting out a chuckle.
Altair opened his mouth to deny it, but before he could speak, the truth of his friend’s comment hit home.
He did like her. He’d known he liked her, which is why he didn’t fight the kiss. But the realization of it later, of everything, had sent him running, trying to put distance between them.
Christine had gotten close to him. Too close, forcing him to back away, to put some distance between them. If they hadn’t kissed, perhaps he could have kept them working close together, but now he had to go his own route. Without her.
Training must now solely be about just that: training. He could afford no more distractions, no more accidental locked gazes. No more flirting in the library. None of it. Christine must not get any impression that there was anything going on between them.
“This is good,” Damien was saying. “You need something like this. Something to help you reconnect to the world. To merge back with it.”
Altair knew his friend was trying to help, but the very words he was speaking were leaving him terrified. He couldn’t let himself care about her, about anything. Not now, not ever again.
People who cared about him, who he cared about, ended up trusting him. And people who trusted him, ended up dead. Like the children on the streets of Allicean.
“Thank you,” he said, interrupting whatever Damien was going to say next. “For tonight, I appreciate that.”
“Don’t mention it,” Damien said, patting him on the back as they arrived at his door. “It’s fine.”
Altair nodded and opened his room.
“Try to get some rest, okay?”
“I’ll try,” he said, knowing that it was an empty promise. Altair would be up for hours now, until the next day dawned.
“And also,” Damien added, placing a hand on the door to stop it from closing as Altair went inside. “I want you to know that I hope you find it in you to try it again.”
“Try what again?” he asked, confused.
“Living. Having a life. Opening up to people. I worry about you Altair, about how checked-out you’ve been lately. I know it’s not easy, but I believe you can do this. And I’m here to help. Whatever it takes. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
“Got it. Thanks,” he said weakly, and closed the door, unable to face the storm dragon any longer.
It wasn’t stupid, what he was ready to do, if it happened. Saving everyone else, there was nothing stupid about that. It was what he should have done in Allicean but hadn’t. Now, if it came down to it, Altair was ready to do it for the people around him now.
He wouldn’t hesitate this time.
Chapter Twenty
Christine
THE DEMON BELLOWED and swung its axe mightily. A killing blow, it descended on the group.
Green energy blossomed to life as it struck the impervious shield dome. Christine smiled grimly, waiting for the command. Seven of them waited under its protection. Like the day before, they had lost one of their number, though this time it was Vanessa, who had been just a bit too slow at the appearance of the demon, who had struck with surprise this time from the side.
“Now!” Maddison Gardener snapped.
The witches broke apart. Three of them went on the attack against the demon.
Three continued to hold their magic in reserve, ready to pour it into the shield if things went south.
Altair bellowed a challenge and lightning shot from his fingertips as he struck at the demonic creatures surrounding the band of witches. Bodies withered and died as he unleashed hell on the magical constructs.
“Shield!” Gardener barked.
All offense attacks ceased immediately. The witches poured their energy into the dome, and the demon’s axe smashed down against it ineffectively once more.
“Again!” the witch commanded.
They broke apart, and more creatures died under Altair’s attack. Ready with her staff, Christine was part of the shield section.
Altair was mowing them down like a scythe. The creatures fell with ease, and he cleared them away, keeping the witches safe. After their third regroup and attack, no more came. He had bought them time.
“Everyone, attack. Altair, hit it in the knee!”
The witches all faced the demon and unleashed their magic, battering the powerful creature.
Altair darted outward, swift as the wind, then angled in sharply. His accelerated form hit the back of the demon’s knee just as it started to put all the weight on it. The joint crumpled and Altair poured lightning into the crack in its skin.
The thunderous roar of pain told her that he’d hurt it. Badly. The witches renewed their attacks, and the demon started to come apart at the seams.
Altair reached skyward and lightning slashed down into one of the biggest openings. The demon shuddered, and then burst apart and collapsed, melting into the ground as the energy that had held its corporeal form together dissipated. In seconds there was nothing left.
Christine paused in surprise. They had done it, she realized. Together, they had defeated the demon. The first team to do so! She wanted to jump up and down to celebrate as the others were doing, but she only allowed herself a reserved fist pump.
The victory was bittersweet. Yes, the witches had emerged on top with only one casualty, but she hadn’t been leading them. Maddison had, and Christine was forced to admit she’d done a wonderful job of it.
They headed for the exit of the arena. This simulation was the last one of the day, and now they would regroup in one of the adjoining rooms, discuss what had and hadn’t worked. Then, she assumed, they would head to
