BooksBarbecue
Back Seasons of Chaos
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

“We are not camping,” Amber interjects, rolling her eyes. “We have a guest room. You’re more than welcome to stay here with us, Jack. I promise we won’t make you sleep in a tent.”

“Can’t,” I say absently, watching Fleur’s red light leave the coffee shop on the adjacent screen. “Lyon’s set a travel ban for unpaired Seasons. We’re stuck at home until it lifts.”

The call goes quiet. I turn back to see Amber frowning at me. She covers the mic, says something to Julio. He glances at me, nods, and slips out from her chair, disappearing from view. The door to their bedroom clicks shut behind him.

“What happened to your neck?” Amber hasn’t changed at all. Razor-sharp and never one to pull punches. I had forgotten about the healing scab until she pointed it out, and now it itches like it might open again. I give it a light scratch that doesn’t quite satisfy it.

“I was out for a run. Couple of assholes with a switchblade caught me off guard and wanted my watch. That’s all.”

“Obviously you lived through it. So what happened? Instinct took over?”

“More like Fleur took over,” I grumble. “I was doing just fine on my own. I didn’t need anyone’s help.”

She scrutinizes me in the same piercing way she used to right before a fight, feeling out the best way to engage me without getting hit. “Talk to me, Jack. What’s going on?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit. There are two kinds of people who know you best: those who love you and those who are determined to kill you. And I’ve been both.”

I rub my eyes, torn between lying and spilling my guts to her. “I don’t know. . . . I think maybe I’m homesick.” Amber’s silent for a long moment, as if this isn’t the answer she was expecting. “I don’t know why. I can’t explain it, okay? I just . . . I miss something.”

“Your magic?”

I shove the chair back from the desk, resentful of the monitors and satellites and security cameras I’m forced to depend on to do my job—a job I should be able to perform at Fleur’s side, not hiding behind a screen. “Lyon’s got it,” I tell her. “It’s right there, in a cage on his desk. He told me I can have it back. That it’s mine whenever I want it.”

“Do you want it?”

I shake my head, wishing I hadn’t answered the call, hating the pity in her voice and the softness of her tone. I’d rather she just come out swinging at me the way she used to.