I glared at Jaxson. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
He turned, and his eyes glinted with yellow light. “Try parkour.”
“Parkour?”
He ran three steps, leapt, and rebounded off the side of the adjacent
building. He landed silently and gracefully on the roof, and made it all look
impossibly easy. I’d seen him do similar moves when he’d hunted me down
the alley.
Noticing my hesitation, Jaxson suggested, “I can probably jump back
down and toss you up. You’re light.”
My blood boiled. I turned, ran three steps, and leapt with all my strength.
I soared into the air— waaay higher than I thought possible.
Oh, shit.
The side of the building came up faster than I’d anticipated, and I
ricocheted toward Jaxson with almost zero control. My chest slammed into
the gutter, and I squeaked as I slipped and slid back, catching myself with my
claws before I tumbled to the street below.
Jaxson was there in a second. He grabbed my jacket by the neck and
heaved me halfway before hauling me up by the back of my jeans.
I scrambled up the roof on my hands and knees.
Lights went on in the house below, and we climbed over the top and
ducked down. Someone started shouting in Italian.
“What are they saying?” I whispered.
Amal grinned. “That—and please excuse this, I’m only translating—that
the fat cats are fucking on the neighbor’s roof again.”
I put my hands over my face and leaned back. I was so not awesome.
“Come on,” Jaxson growled, and jumped up to the adjacent roof, a full
story above us.
I sighed, got to my feet, and followed with more success this time.
The house was perched at the edge of the cliff, and as soon as I looked
over the threshold of the roof, my stomach swam with vertigo.