He was a dead man.

August didn’t lose his cool. That was his entire operational strategy. He kept that locked down. Be purposeful and patient, that was what his father had taught him. The loser is the one who gets angry first.

But Johann Gouten was dangerous, he should have recognized him sooner, and something in his eyes made August believe he really did know what it took to hurt Gabriel. It made August angry.

And all August could think was not another one. Not again.

Gabriel shut the door to Blake Wright’s office behind them. August stood a little straighter on instinct alone.

“Father —”

“Dean Wright,” his father said. He spun the ring on his pinky, seeming agitated. Twist. Twist. Twist. “We are at my place of work, August.”

August hesitated, deciding to go for placation. “Dean Wright. I understand that you don’t want me creating a spectacle…”

“You make it sound so bland, Augustus!” His father slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, dark hair falling forward into his eyes. “This isn’t a preference. I don’t care what we look like, I care that you stay alive and un-incarcerated.”

Gabriel swallowed heavily beside him. A little stray piece of hair danced in front of his face in time with his breathing. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault.”

His father shook his head, just a little. “Of course it’s not your fault, Gabriel. It’s Johann’s. But just because it’s not your fault doesn’t mean it’s not going to become your problem.” His father fixed his hair, heaving out a breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. “August is a powerful aphysical Guardian in training. But I’m sure you understand, Mr. Masters, why being powerful is not always a good thing.”

Gabriel’s grey eyes went just slightly wide. “He’s at risk of being detained?”

August examined Gabriel closely. It was strange, the carefree way Gabriel lived his life, despite the ever-looming threat of permanent detention lingering over him like a rain cloud. “Not officially. I was under watch as a child.” He glanced up at his father, searching for signs of disapproval. When he saw none, he continued. “I was determined not to be enough of a threat for permanent detention, due to the limited scope of my attribute.”

“I’m going to guess they made errors in their evaluation you did not rush to correct,” Gabriel surmised. He had a little furrow in his brow. The wrinkle seemed to appear whenever he was thinking particularly hard about something. "What is the true scope of your ability? Do you need to actually use your hands?”

“I do need to know the composition of the object,” August said. “But no, I do not need to use my hands. I do so to give the appearance of a ‘sign’ so people feel like they know when I may strike.”

“But not today,” his father said. “Which is a mistake, August, and we cannot afford mistakes. You are in the spotlight now.”

“Sir,” Gabriel interjected. He gnawed the edge his lip. “Why assign me as August’s partner if it carried that kind of risk? Surely you knew attention on him would be magnified.”

August had wondered the same thing. There had to be more to it. His father could’ve coerced Gabriel to keep an eye on him, even if they weren’t partnered, if he were truly only worried about August being out of control.

So why do it?

Why did his father always do things?

“You were worried about me,” August said, understanding suddenly flooding him, a warm and unfamiliar molten fondness spiking through his veins. “You were worried, after Nina. So you got me the closest thing to an invincible partner and disguised it as a strategic decision.” 

“The reasoning does not matter,” his father said, tersely. His face was tired. Worn. “Nor do the circumstances of your assignment. What matters is what you do now. You need to be mindful, August, or they’re going to start asking the wrong questions again. You know as well as I do that the only thing protecting you from a life in isolation is their ignorance.”

Gabriel screwed his face into a determined expression. “Nova would protect him.”

August’s father looked at them both sadly.

“Nova is quite busy protecting you, Mr. Masters.”