I pulled the trigger.
Chapter Fifteen
The trigger depressed under my finger, the gun clicked, and Aaron slammed into me.
A second body hit me a moment later, and I was crushed between them. The gun was yanked from my hand, my arms were wrenched back, and Blake locked me in a hold that had my spine arching against his broad chest.
Aaron held the gun by its barrel, breathing hard as he stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head.
I blinked slowly. My gaze moved from the pyromage and the gun he held, then to my brother’s face, frozen in disbelief. My hand … holding that icy metal grip. My finger … pulling the stiff trigger. The memory was fresh and bright in my mind.
I—had—pulled—the—trigger.
Panic exploded through me and I screamed.
Aaron and Blake jolted at my piercing cry, and Justin leaped up from his chair.
“I didn’t do that!” My panicked shriek raked my throat. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—no, no—I would never—”
I struggled against Blake’s hold, denials spilling from my lips as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“I didn’t—I didn’t—I didn’t—”
But the gun had been in my hand. I’d pulled the trigger.
As I devolved into a wordless wail, Aaron set the gun on the end table beside the sofa, then pulled me from Blake’s hold and pushed me at Justin. My brother caught me with a startled grunt.
“Calm her down,” Aaron ordered. “Blake, let’s go.”
The terramage nodded sharply.
“Go?” Justin clamped an arm around me as the two mages strode for the patio door. “Where?”
“To find the mythic who messed with Tori,” Aaron called over his shoulder, eyes blazing. “Wait here.”
They disappeared outside, and I didn’t move, standing rigidly in Justin’s hold.
“To find … what?” I whispered.
“Someone messed with you? What does he mean?”
“I don’t know.” My whole body shuddered nonstop, and I couldn’t shake the image of the gun in my hand, aimed at my brother’s shocked face. I had done that. Whatever Aaron thought had happened, no one had put that gun in my hand.
Justin wrapped his arms around me. How could he hug me after what I’d tried to do?
Minutes dragged by, then the patio door banged. Aaron strode inside, fury on his face and Blake right behind him. I cringed into Justin as the pyromage strode up to me. He drew me away from my brother, turned me, and pushed me down on the sofa.
“Tori,” he said quietly, kneeling in front of me, “what happened while you were gone?”
“Wh-what?”
“You went outside. Where did you go?”
“I … I walked to the coffee shop.”
“Do you remember the whole walk?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“No.”
“What happened next?”
I locked my hands around his wrists, clinging on for dear life. “I went into the coffee shop. I looked at the donuts, then I got in line.”
“Did anyone talk to you? Did anyone touch you?”
“No.”
“What happened after you got in line?”
“I … I left.”
“Did you buy anything?”
“No, I just … left.”
“Why?”
“Because …” My brow scrunched. “I don’t know. I think I … I needed to come back here right away.”
“Do you remember walking back here?”
“Yes …”
“Did you plan to get out the gun?”
A tremor shook my limbs. “I don’t know.”
Blake crouched beside Aaron, his expression grim.
“Black magic?” he rumbled. “Or Psychica?”
Aaron rubbed my upper arms through my jacket. “Alchemy strong enough to control her would probably cause memory loss. If she remembers everything but doesn’t know why she changed her behavior—”
“Psychica,” Blake concluded with a nod. “Probably a mentalist.”
“Wait.” I looked between them, my face cold with tears. “You think someone made me do that? But—but I didn’t talk to anyone, or touch anyone, or drink a potion. No one told me to walk back here and—”
“Mentalists’ powers come in a lot of foul flavors,” Aaron interrupted. “Do you remember the one from KCQ who got me?”
I remembered. A woman who, with a simple touch, had taken full control of his mind and body.
“You encountered someone like that, and they influenced you without making contact—or they did make contact and made you forget.”
“Did you find them?” Justin asked. He’d reclaimed his gun and was emptying the chamber into his hand. He stuffed the lone bullet and magazine into his pocket.
Shaking his head, Blake pushed to his feet. “There was no one nearby, and we didn’t know who to look for.”
“What if there was no mentalist?” I whispered. “What if I just snapped? What if I’m going crazy and I—”
“Tori.” Justin stepped closer. “I’ve seen you in the grip of every kind of anger. Even when you get vicious, I know what it looks like, but that—that was completely different. Your eyes were empty, like you weren’t thinking or feeling anything. Whatever happened, that wasn’t you.”
My mouth trembled. I launched past Aaron, arms stretched out, and Justin pulled me into a tight hug. I could feel the unsteady shivers in his limbs. A sob shook me, and he put his face against my shoulder.
“But you still scared the shit out of me,” he mumbled. “Why didn’t the gun fire?”
I peeled away from Justin and glanced at Aaron. “You suppressed the shot, right?”
He nodded. “But like I’ve said before, don’t ever count on me being able to stop a gunshot. I have to be really close, and even then, my success rate isn’t fantastic.” Rising to his feet, he glanced around. “Now let’s pack up. We need to get out of here ASAP.”
My brow furrowed.
“That wasn’t a random mentalist who sent you back here to blow a hole in your brother.” He strode into the bedroom, his voice floating back out. “I’m not sure how, but our poking around yesterday didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe the Praetor saw our vehicles or checked the attic and found evidence of an intruder.”
Hastening after Aaron, I found him scooping his shaving kit off the bathroom counter and tossing it into his duffle bag. “Hurry up and pack, Tori.”
I rushed into the bedroom I’d slept in, where my suitcase sat open on the bed. I scooped yesterday’s clothes off the floor and threw them in.
“The Praetor isn’t messing around.” Blake’s voice rumbled out of the living room. “He went straight to hiring a professional.”
“Professional what?” Justin asked.
“Assassin—one who can make us kill each other and end our investigation without ever drawing attention to the cult.”
I shuddered at his words. An assassin. Had they known they were sending me to kill my own brother? Out of the three men, Justin was the least dangerous. Killing Aaron and Blake would’ve been the smarter move, but maybe the assassin didn’t know that.