“He’s not the Guide. He’s not strong enough. I was on the bridge. I was on the field last night. That guy—it’s not a teenager. And he wouldn’t be bowing to a gun.”
“He knows something.” Michael adjusted his grip on the weapon.
And then Hunter moved.
Becca couldn’t even follow it all. An arm here, a fist there. Michael was suddenly on the ground, disarmed.
The gun was back in Hunter’s hand, pointed at Michael. His feet hadn’t shifted. “You want to keep playing?”
Michael gaped up at him, looking more stunned than hurt.
Gabriel was staring at Hunter. “Dude. I’m going to need to see that again.”
Hunter didn’t put the gun away. “Something tells me you’ll get another chance.”
He’d trapped his emotion somehow, and now had full control of himself. His easy confidence spoke to her, reminded her that Hunter was a friend—or had pretended to be.
“Was it all a lie?” she said. “From the start?”
He didn’t glance up, but his voice was soft. “I never lied to you, Becca. Even at first, when I thought—” He shook his head slightly. “I never lied.”
“How about now?” said Becca. “Do you know where they are?”
“I have no idea where they are.”
“He’s lying,” snapped Michael.
“Why would I lie?” Hunter shot back.
“There has to be another Guide,” she said. She remembered Tyler’s threats, when she’d first met him. “When your father didn’t show up, Tyler and Seth called for another. Would you recognize him? Could you help us—”
“Why would I help them?” said Hunter, keeping his gun trained on Michael.
“You think you’re safe?” said Gabriel. “You’re not a real Guide. What if he comes after you next? You know he’ll stay in town until he finds all the Elementals, finds out who’s a threat. Rogue kid with a gun? Might make the list.”
“Yeah,” said Becca. “What if someone paints a pentagram on your door?”
Their words seemed to hit Hunter like stray bullets, drawing his attention away from Michael.
“What about your grandparents?” Becca paused. “What about your mom?”
Hunter flicked his eyes her way. “Are you threatening me?”
Her heart was threatening to escape her chest. “Yeah. I am. How’s it feel?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never threatened you, Becca. I never wanted to hurt you.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. All the times he could have told her—confided in her. He’d put a tracking stone on her wrist the first night they’d gone out. He probably followed her to Chris’s house. He’d probably known what had happened on the bridge. All that anger about Chris—he didn’t give a crap about her safety.
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “You’re such a good guy. What were you going to do next? Shoot Gabriel? Shoot me?”
“Becca.” He gave her a wounded look. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand that’s a gun. Didn’t you sit on my couch and tell me people carry guns when they want to kill people? Didn’t you warn me away from Chris because he was nothing but trouble? Chris is a good guy.” Her voice was close to breaking, but she saved it. “Chris helped me last night. He saved me on the beach. Now some guy has kidnapped him or killed him or—” Now her voice did break, and she had to take a heaving breath. “I know you miss your father, Hunter. They miss theirs, too. Nothing will bring your father back. But you could help. You could—”
“I won’t help them.”
“Would you help me?” She wasn’t above begging. She didn’t even have to fake the hitch in her voice. She moved closer, until she was right beside him. “Hunter? Would you help me?”