I wake up on a cozy couch effectively broken in. From the observation deck, Ryan’s frowning forlornly between Derry and Brody. Tally’s by my feet. Seriously? Tally of all people. Declan’s nowhere in sight. He’s off with Kiley again, no doubt.

I rub my eyes, trying to ward away the lingering clouds blurring my sight, before swinging my feet to the floor. “Intervention?”

“More like a timeout,” Tally muses. “The referee was incapacitated.”

What landed me here? Oh yes. Silly, testosterone-driven boys mistakenly thought it appropriate to place me in the middle of some caveman possession attempt. Who won’t be the referee? This girl! They have the same goal, and less diversely, they’re both Sumairs. Shouldn’t that count for something? Yes, it definitely should.

Of the two, Derry is the one disturbed by my glowering. His radiating resignation is impossible to ignore. It might’ve evaporated my resolve if not for Brody’s pre-fight flexing antics distracting me. That glower? No effect on Brody. He’s cracking his knuckles and making tight fists, looking forward to the unavoidable physical altercation. A hammer is set to be dropped, but he won’t be controlling descent. Nor will Sir Sledge. It’s my hammer. If anyone’s bringing it down, it’ll be me.

Derry’s frowning, so I decide he’s the easiest to address due to our silent communication method. Tame that green-eyed monster right this minute, I project, cutting right to the chase. There’s no point trying to play it cool. With front row seats to the inner workings of my brain, he knows precisely what’s running amuck in there.

His feet are suddenly interesting, his embarrassment for the overreaction replacing the uncertainty. I don’t have the emotional fortitude to appreciate his unwarranted concern, and I unequivocally won’t swoon over affection for me being displayed inappropriately.

My impatience is largely due to the sheer inconvenience. There are more important places to be, mainly with my mother. Am I selfish? Probably. Do I care? Not so much.

Derry’s honey-hued eyes lock onto mine, and I swallow down the guilty lump caught in my throat. I haven’t told him what happened. I’m not exactly avoiding the conversation. I simply haven’t been given the chance to explain what I know. Spoiler alert! It’s nothing. I literally know nothing. Call me Jan Snow.

Later, I promise.

Undeterred, he scavenges inside my brain, searching for details I can’t give him. His tiny ant mental intruders are marching aimlessly. It’s the first time his telepathy has bothered me.

I blow out a shaky breath before addressing Brody. “You better stop fist-clenching before you permanently damage the bones in your hands.”

He inhales through flared nostrils while I suck in his Acacia and Ash scent. He’ll be trickier to manage.

Ryan extends both arms like he somehow holds the power to prevent them from coming any closer. He’s a rather ineffective restraint, but I won’t tell him that. He’s doing his best.

Does Derry believe he has anything to be jealous of? I sincerely doubt he questions Brody’s intentions. He can read his mind just as easily as I can read his emotions. His interest is strictly friendly. He’s similar to the overprotective brother I never had, ready to pounce on anyone he thinks will harm me.

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What I need to get them to understand is they don’t need to protect me from each other. I trust them both. Getting them to trust each other…that’ll be a battle and a half. Lots of blood on that hill. While it’s not my battle to fight, if they demand my involvement, I’ll make a third side—my side—and they’ll both lose.

Is the jealousy over who’s getting my excess energy? Derry basically has me on tap, and Brody doesn’t want it, anyway. Well, I have news for them. Too bad. So sad. Neither of them are getting it. I’m saving it for my mother, who’s waiting patiently in her hospital room for me to wake her up. Keeping her awake…hopefully, that won’t take me another eighteen years.

“I’m going to the hospital now. Mom needs my energy more than either of you.”

“That isn’t a good idea,” Derry warns. Shut up, Sledge. You don’t have a hammer anymore. I yoinked it. Sorry not sorry.

Brody takes a step toward me. “What’s not a good idea?”

Of course, Derry matches his forward advance, leaving poor Ryan to resemble a door folded in at the center.

“It’s feeding time at the zoo,” Tally announces.

My left eye twitches. I contemplate, for too long a moment, lighting her on fire.

“A bonehead idea,” Brody agrees, finding common ground with Derry.

He has no qualms telling me I’m being an idiot. In turn, I have no problem telling him to stow his opinion. “Shove it, Kangaroo Fists.”

“Shove it where, Baby Roo?” he challenges.

“Nowhere nice,” I hiss.

Two against one doesn’t worry me. They won’t change my mind. They take yet another synchronized step forward. I wonder if they realize physically restraining me will invite a fiery rebuttal, regardless of our current location.

“This is boring.” Tally yawns, pulling herself to her feet. “I liked it better when they were acting all possessive. Separately. A fisticuff would’ve elevated my mood. An energy drain drive will have to suffice. Let’s go, Char Child.”

She smiles brightly in response to their steely gazes. Yes, she was made for the spotlight, even when the spotlight is ready to explode from the strength of the beam.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Brody claims, an active volcano rumbling in his chest.

He takes a step toward her. She narrows her eyes. “Unless you want to strangle yourself with the leash around your neck, take a step back.”

Ryan figures the neighboring power struggle is his chance to reason with me. He pushes out his plea in a warm flood of exasperation so intense I nearly drown.

“Not so fast, Undertow.” Tally steps in front of me. “I may not agree Firefly’s actions are shiny, but we don’t get to make her mistakes for her.”

“Cute.” Brody grunts. “You’re tagging along so you can laugh when things go wrong? Classy.”

“You’ve wanted her to fail from the beginning,” Derry adds. “You think this is your chance for front row seats to the fireworks?”

Tally guides me to the door. “You should be embarrassed by your obvious lack of faith in our leader, Telepathetic.”

“Since when did you ever follow anyone?” Brody snorts indignantly.

“She’s clearing the way for us all. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a follower, but if she’s burning out a path without me having to work for it, why wouldn’t I go her way?”

“I’m not your leader,” I mumble.

“Nor are they yours,” Tally advises.

I shrug.

“You don’t own her,” she calls over her shoulder, shoving my arms into my coat sleeves while I breathe in her Narcissus and Sage scent.

“How are you any different? You’ll do anything to force her transition,” Derry counters. “You can’t stand the thought she could maintain her humanity when you couldn’t.”

“No one considers Sheyla a possession,” Ryan interjects, trying to soften the blow of Derry’s words.

“Sure, Ripple-effect,” Tally retorts. “Keep telling yourself that. We both know how much rougher it is to paddle without the oars.”

Do they think they’re getting me to change my mind by discrediting the driver? Is she selfish? Inconceivably so. Is she hoping for an explosive adventure? Most likely. Am I letting it stop me from doing whatever I can to help my mom? Hard no. I honestly don’t care why she wants to take me. Fact is, she’s taking me, which is good enough for me.

I have tunnel vision. I just have to get there. If they won’t be a light at the other end, they need to stay out of my way. My train is chugging on down the tracks, and if I have to railroad my way through them to get to where I need to go, I will. Tally’s just the conductor for that.