“I think you’re wrong,” Jason said suddenly.
Allyra turned to him with a question in her eyes. The tequila had done its job, and her mind felt wooly and pleasantly sluggish.
“It isn’t all pointless,” Jason clarified.
Allyra narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t have the energy or patience to argue.
Jason turned to her and there was a sudden, feverish urgency to him. “Chi’s death may seem pointless now, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. You can make it count for something. Win The Five Finals and you’ll be on a path to power, to a position where you could change the way things are done.”
Allyra laughed without humor. “You’re just saying that because you want me to help you win.”
“Maybe. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong though.”
He got to his feet, and she caught a glimpse of a memory soaked with regret, but her mind was too alcohol sodden to hold onto it.
“Let’s go for a swim.”
Allyra shot him a look of disbelief. The Atlantic Ocean that formed the West Coast shoreline was freezing even in the heart of summer. The unspoiled beaches were better made for sun worshipping than swimming.
Jason had already discarded his shirt, displaying his broad shoulders and well-muscled torso, narrowing to his hips. His pale skin glowed in the moonlight, and he took on a ghost-like quality. Allyra stared for a moment too long; she couldn’t help but admire him—she blamed it on the ample amounts of alcohol coursing through her veins. He smirked knowingly at her before taking a few more steps toward the water and then pulled off his pants until he wore nothing but a pair of black underwear. Even with half a bottle of tequila in him, Jason was effortlessly graceful as he continued his trek toward the frigid water.
“Are you coming or are you too scared?” he taunted before plunging into the water.
Allyra hesitated, but the tequila was flowing generously through her veins—a skeleton key unlocking all her inhibitions. She pulled her shirt over her head, vaguely aware that she fell prey far too easily to peer pressure.
* * *
Consciousness was an explosion of light and pain. The world tilted and moved. Allyra quickly closed her eyes as her stomach heaved.
Never again, she promised herself, I’m never going to drink tequila again. In fact, she didn’t even want to look at a bottle of tequila again. Her head felt as if someone had driven an iron stake through it—perhaps she would extend her promise to include never actually drinking any sort of alcohol again. Never would she drink again, and never would she fall for Jason’s promises of showing her how to live. The consequences were simply not worth it.
After a few minutes spent mastering the effects of her hangover and making an increasingly long list of resolutions, Allyra opened her eyes again—much more gingerly. It turned out that the world was actually moving, because she appeared to be in a car. Her memory of getting back to the car was fuzzy at best, and it only served to cement her list of resolutions.
She groaned and glanced over at Jason, sitting in the driver’s seat. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, but otherwise, he seemed unfairly unaffected by the previous night’s excesses.
Noting that she was awake, Jason handed her a bottle of water without taking his eyes off the road. “Good morning,” he said.
“There is nothing good about this morning,” she replied, her voice exploding within the confines of her bruised mind. Allyra drained the water bottle and instantly wished she hadn’t as her stomach turned again.
“You wound me,” Jason said, amusement in his voice. “I’m not used to anyone waking up with instant regret after a night with me.”
Allyra didn’t know which was worse—her throbbing hangover or being lumped in the same category as one of Jason’s female conquests.
The second one, she decided. The second one was definitely worse.
She pulled herself straighter in the seat as memories of the previous night came flooding back. There had been the breaking and entering, the drinking, followed by some swimming. She grimaced as she remembered that the swimming had happened with embarrassingly few garments on. They had continued drinking afterward, lying next to each other on the sandy beach, drunkenly tracing constellations in the sky.
The memories were sufficiently embarrassing to bring an instant flush to her cheeks, but it was a relief to know that she could at least remember most of it and that she hadn’t spilled her guts—either literally or metaphorically.
Looking out the window, Allyra said a silent thank you to her Gifted healing as her headache retreated just a little. She reaffirmed her promise to never again take advantage of it for such shallow and frivolous purposes.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“The airport,” he said, glancing at her. “You were most adamant about it last night, or do you not remember?”
“I remember just fine, thank you,” Allyra replied with as much dignity as she could muster. She thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t gotten drunk enough to lead Jason to the safe house where she would meet up with Jamie and Rob.
They pulled up at the domestic departures terminal. “Is this okay or do you want international?” Jason asked.
“This is fine,” she replied, working hard not to inadvertently give up any more information.
He watched her gather up her belongings, meager as they were. “This doesn’t change anything, you know. One drunken night does not make us friends. I still hate you,” he said softly.
Allyra looked up from zipping up her backpack. Jason’s eyes were hidden, but a tiny quirk pulled at one corner of his lips. That, combined with the lack of venom in
