Storm by Danielle Ellison Read Free Book Online

a coincidence. The mauve demon said magic was a balance. If what we did in De’Intero upset that balance, we need to restore it before anyone, especially the Triad, finds out we’re involved.
    “We’ll figure it out,” I say. I pull her close to me and I kiss the top of her head. If this is linked to us like the mauve demon said, then there has to be a reason. Luckily, I’m good at puzzles. I get them. They’re like chess. A strategy, a method. You have to look at the whole board, see the whole picture before you can build it. One rule my dad made sure I memorized: know the moves you want to make before you make them.
    Prescott men are always prepared to do whatever necessary to win.
    Someone says Pen’s name and we both look up. Connie stands in the doorway, and she is out of my arms and into her sister’s in a second. “What’s happening?” Connie asks, her voice uneasy.
    Pen stands beside her, and even though she says reassuring things to her sister, I can see through the mask. I can see through it because I wear the same one. The one that says, “I’m in charge and I can handle it.” Pen wears it almost better than I do, and I’ve been in training since I was a kid.
    Prescott men must never show weakness.
    I hate that my mind goes to my dad’s voice. To his demand that I be exactly what he expects to me be—and that I always listen to him. How the hell does that happen? Sometimes it feels like I’m destined to be the other thing I hate. That despite the choices I make for myself, I’ll end up exactly like him.
    Pen and Connie move back toward the chairs, and a movement behind them catches my eye. A long white beard, like the demon Vassago—the demon of lost things. I take a step toward the hall but there’s no smell of sulfur in the air to alert me that a demon’s near.
    I’m losing it.

    I hate hospitals. They always smell too clean. Nothing is this clean, or this white.
    The last of my coffee drips from a machine.
    That’s another reason I hate hospitals: the coffee tastes horrible.
    My phone dings. A text from Pen.
    Your dad is here.
    Dad? I press a lid on the coffee and bolt back up the elevator. Victor Prescott doesn’t go the hospital out of the kindness of his heart. I know the way he works, the way the Triad works, better than that. If he’s here then he’s not here alone and he’s on official business. If Statics are getting magic somehow, then he’s here to do damage control.
    Prescott men must never appear out of control. We are aware and involved in every situation.
    As soon as the elevator doors open, I see the three of them standing near Pen and Connie. Pen’s hands move around while she talks, a tell that she’s nervous. Rafe Ezrati is talking to her, but I’m still too far to hear what they’re discussing.
    Sabrina Stone glances over her shoulder as I approach. When I was younger, I used to think she was the prettiest girl in the world with perfectly straight red hair and marble skin. I was this ten-year-old kid crushing on her. I know better now. There’s a viper under that sparkle.
    “William, I wasn’t aware you were here,” Dad says, looking over Sabrina’s shoulder to me. I feel all the tension rise to my shoulders. I hate ‘William’ and that’s why he does it. ‘Carter’ is an act of rebellion, and Victor Prescott doesn’t approve of rebellion. I move to stand by Penelope, and Dad looks between us. I can’t handle him today.
    “Where else would I be?” I snap. Just seeing him here makes my blood boil. “I’m surprised to see you here at all.”
    Dad stares at me. “Two of our own were injured today. It’s our duty to ensure they are well.”
    I scoff. Those badges are the only reason the Triad is here at all. “Because you care so much about them,” I mutter clear enough so Dad can hear me. His jaw stiffens with disapproval. I feel Pen’s eyes on me, but I ignore it. I don’t like her seeing this side of me, but the man irritates me. His smug