Molly

----------------------------------------

I’m curious enough at first, but when I find out it’s a scouting mission, my interest fades. Not fades. More like fucks right off. Everyone’s up in arms over the whole thing, and no one’s giving us any details. It’s all need to know. Bullshit. That’s the most bullshit explanation in this history of the universe. They’re not the ones putting their ass in the line of fire. Literally in this case. The girl is a transitional Fire Solathair. They have no clue what we need to know. Also literally in this case. There’s some weird block around the Scholar’s visibility, hence the urgency. Shane, who never addresses the Sentry, even gives a speech about the importance of this transition. It’s the mission of a lifetime, administratively.

When we get the order, my team acts as though we’ve just won the lottery. Yeah, not me. For me, it’s just another scouting job. My least favourite of all jobs. It’s bad enough I’m the designated babysitter of my brother until the end of time. Okay, that’s an invalid complaint. We all know it’s the other way around. You know what is a valid complaint? The fact scouting Solathairs in transition is a kick in the teeth. There are far more valuable ways to use my particular abilities.

We’ve been waiting for a week, staying out of rainbow reach so they won’t know we’re watching. Approaching her while she’s alone would’ve been easy enough. She doesn’t like to be around people. Unfortunately, some Solathairs have already sunk their grubby claws into her, and we aren’t sure how she’ll react to our presence. Additionally, we have no way of knowing what sort of hot garbage they’re filling her head with. The icing on top that shit cake? The Scholars still can’t see fuck all, even though we can see it with our own eyes.

Connor and I wait in the embankment. I’ve been sidelined for obvious reasons, with Connor on babysitting detail. It doesn’t offend me. I have a tendency to act first, saving the apologies for later, if I bother to apologize at all. You get what you get. If you don’t like it, you’re free to fuck off.

Phelan and Brody stalk back and forth on the roadway after stopping their vehicle. The vibration of their steps is comforting, drumbeats against my heart. Phelan takes the lead. He’s close enough to fog up their windshield. I let my imagination wander to the fear the car occupants are undoubtedly feeling. It makes me smile. Helps pass the time. I start humming The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

“Knock it off,” Connor chastises me.

The Air Solathair, Declan, heaves open the car door. He walks right up to Phelan and Brody, extending his hand as though that’s somehow stopping progression. If they wanted to take a bite out of him, they would’ve already done so. In fact, the only real threat of pre-emptive striking is me, hence the sidelining.

“How can we help you?” Declan asks, his voice annoyingly calm.

Of course, Phelan and Brody can’t respond, not while they’re in full beast mode. Brody charges him, and I chuckle. I know the blind fury the animal form exudes. I also know the air elemental will respond in kind. He throws Brody on top of the car. My amusement grows as Brody flops around like a fish, trying to find something to grip. His paws are sliding across the windshield like wipers. The whole thing is comical as fuck.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Should’ve brought popcorn,” I muse.

Connor scowls.

Brody’s a slow learner. He charges the air elemental again, who reacts with a wrist flick sending Brody flying upward. He lands on top of the fancy ass car. The hood collapses, and Phelan roars a warning. I reckon it’s in reference to the tiny little girl, sinking lower in her seat.

“It’d be pretty funny if he screwed things up for once,” I point out.

“Would you shut the hell up?” Connor spits at me. “This is serious.”

When Brody attempts a third time to incapacitate the air elemental, he’s slammed into the side of the vehicle, which catapults the entire thing right into the embankment. The one in the driver seat, the Earth Solathair, hasn’t helped her buddy out one lick. What a bitch. Karma has her head slamming against the door glass, shattering it. Unfortunately, her weirdly beautiful face is disappointingly unmarred. She brushes the bits of glass off her like they’re dust, and a warning roar bubbles up in my chest.

“Chill,” Connor cautions me.

“I wanna eat her face,” I admit.

“The fire elemental?”

“No, the pinup doll in the driver’s seat,” I clarify.

“You might get your chance if they keep it up,” Connor offers.

Phelan, who’s finally decided to assist, slams into the air elemental, who in turn, projects his energy stream directly at the car, flipping it upside down. That’s enough to smarten them all up. Brody shifts back to his human skin, and I can tell how sorry he is by the expression on his face. Fucker wears his emotions there, same as Connor. Thank fuck for that too. I’m shit at interpreting context in tone.

“Get your healer,” Brody demands, before scooping the tiny transitional fire elemental up and cradling her in his arms.

“Some fire,” I mutter. “Fucking fart snuffed her out.”

“Come on,” Connor encourages me. “We need to go back to the cabin until the storm blows over.”

“We should be in the storm,” I complain.

He sighs. “Molly, you’re the eye of it.”

“Fuck, what a sweet thing to say.” I squeeze his cheeks. “I heart you too, Big Little Bro.”

I follow him into the woods. We run through the red pines, and the freedom is glorious. We found an abandoned cabin suiting our needs upon arrival. There’s a single bedroom we rotate sleeping in. There’s a couch too, so we take turns watching the girl—two at all times. Best part? Running water from a well pump. It’s old as fuck but does the job for rudimentary indoor plumbing.

This girl? What they see in her, I’ve no clue. Can’t make and break the rules though, you know? Best I stick in my wheelhouse. Those decisions aren’t mine, and I’m glad for it. The transitioning fire elemental should be glad for it too. If I had my way, I’d slurp her up without a second thought.

“What do you think’s happening right now?” Connor probes.

“Give zero fucks.”

“You realize this is a big deal, right?” he pushes. “You’re not glad to be chosen?”

I shrug. I’m really not. I don’t have Connor’s hopeless optimism. I will, however, get the extreme displeasure of scooping up the poop when it all goes to shit. One thing I’ll never have to worry over is job security. There’ll always be some asshole screwing something up.

“Well, I know you care about at least one thing,” Connor states.

“You.”

“Besides me,” he persists.

“No,” I disagree. “That’s it. You’re my single solitary fuck, Connor.”

“You care about this mission going well.”

“No more than I cared about the hundred going right before it.”

“That’s a lie,” he contends.

I lift a brow.

“Tyler promised you if this goes well, he’s putting you on the kill squad for good.”

“Sheelin has a damn big mouth.”

He smirks.

I sigh. “This girl is my road block.”

“Her name’s Sheyla.”

“Don’t give a fuck what her name is.”

“You will,” Connor claims.

Nothing I could ever say will douse the sun shining out his ass. Fucker will blind us all with those bright rays. It isn’t he’s too naïve to know any better. He just believes in all the happy horseshit I left behind long ago. I’ve seen the light and all it has to offer. It distorts reality, and worse, it’s temporary. My brother needs to bring down the wattage before he runs out his battery.