Or both.

But the air was charged with his power, and it surged into the exposed skin, healing him without thought, stealing some of the pain immediately. Nick sucked a breath through his teeth and shivered. The weather no longer seemed centered on destruction, but trees creaked and groaned as the wind battered them.

Michael looked back at Tyler. “Keep your hands off my brothers.”

Tyler got to his feet and spit at him. “Fuck you, Merrick. He started it.”

“Nick.” Michael glanced at him. “Get in the truck.”

Nick looked at the fire lane. There was Michael’s truck, about six cars back. Had Michael been here the whole time?

Had he heard what Tyler said?

“Go,” said Michael. “He won’t follow you.”

Like Nick was six years old being chased down by a bully.

But what could he do? He clutched his aching arm to his chest and walked.

Tyler didn’t help matters by calling after him. “Yeah, it’s a good thing big brother showed up, huh, Nicky?”

Nicky. He somehow made it an insult.

Nick slammed the cab door and ran a hand through his hair.

The frigid wind had cleared the quad, whipping between vehicles to make the truck rock. The open wounds on his arm had closed, turning to nothing more than soft scabs.

Michael was five seconds behind him. He slammed the door, then shoved a key into the ignition and got the heat running.

Nick hadn’t realized his breath was fogging up all the glass.

He couldn’t even see what had happened to Tyler. But Michael hadn’t been out there long enough to have done any damage.

“You didn’t fight him?” Nick said.

“He won’t fight me.” Without any more explanation than that, Michael put the truck in gear, but kept his foot on the brake. “Let me see your arm.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Nick held it up, but he didn’t care about his arm now. His thoughts felt like the debris scattered all over the quad from the wind. Had Michael heard? Had he heard?

But Michael said, “What made him come after you?”

Nick had no idea. He wished he could get his thoughts to focus. What had Quinn told Tyler? Why? How could she—why would she—?

“Nick?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know—Tyler’s never done that before. With the fire.” He wished Gabriel weren’t being such a dick—Nick could ask him how much power that would take.

Tyler wasn’t supposed to be very strong, but something so focused would require a lot of control, right?

You don’t get to play like that anymore.

What was Tyler telling him? What had he said?

She has enough problems without you screwing with her.

Then Tyler’s sneering, What do you know about it?

What did Tyler know? What was Quinn telling him?

She’d clearly given up his secret. What did that mean?

The windshield cleared in patches. Michael pulled out of his space. “Has he been hassling you?”

“No. Not really.” Nick paused. “Why won’t he fight you?”

“Because he genuinely believes I killed his sister, and he’s afraid I’ll do the same to him.” Michael glanced over. “I’m serious, Nick. What’s going on?”

His older brother sounded pissed—but only at Tyler. Not like he’d learned anything new and shocking. In a way, it was disappointing. Nick shook his head and looked out the window.

“Nothing. What were you doing there?”

“I came to pick you up. I saw the guys getting into the car and you weren’t with them. Gabriel said you were PMS-ing, which I took to mean you were walking home.”

Nick clenched his jaw and glared out the window. Trees along Old Mill Road flew by. Wind was still blowing leaves in every direction, matching his mood.

Then he whipped his head back around. “Why were you picking me up?”

“What’s with all the suspicion? Because I’d like to get this job done before the rain starts.”

Oh. Of course. Nick settled back into the seat. His sweatshirt was destroyed, and he could do with a change of clothes, but the last thing he wanted to do was face his brothers. “Do you have an extra pullover in here?”

“You don’t want me to swing by the house?”

“No.”

Michael reached between the seats and flung a fleece half-zip at him. It smelled vaguely of topsoil and mulch, but not in a bad way. Nick pulled it over his head.

“Hungry?” said Michael.

Nick shook his head. He hadn’t eaten lunch, either, but the last thing he wanted was food.

They drove in silence for the longest time. Nick leaned his head against the window and wondered what it would be like to lie down and sleep forever.

When Michael spoke, his voice was quiet. “You want to talk about what’s up at school?”

That familiar tension dug its teeth into Nick’s neck. “Nothing is going on at school.”

“Your physics teacher called and said you failed a test.”

Nick swore. “Great.”

“He said you were distracted. He asked if something was going on at home. Asked if he could help.”

“You don’t have to do this, Mike. I’m fine. Things at home are fine. It’s one test. He shouldn’t have called you.”

Michael glanced over. “He said he’d told you about a precol-lege program he’d like to nominate you for, but you brushed it off. I thought you were all gung ho for college.”