Shiloh seemed almost amused as we listened to the fight outside. Messiah was grunting and cursing outside. Something bumped into the side of the van when Shiloh pulled out a cigarette.
He lit it with a flicker of flame on his finger and I gasped.
“You…You can make fire.”
“I can do a lot of things,” he said and took a deep breath, breathing out a puff of smoke.
The smoke was sweet rather than bitter like I thought it would be. It didn’t even smell like tobacco, but sort of floral. He huffed as the van rocked again.
“He must be pissed off,” Shiloh mused and glanced at me. “Makes since considering what we’re up against.”
“Are you talking about me?” I asked, glaring at him.
“What was your first clue?” He huffed.
“You can’t talk to me like that!”
“Oh? What are you going to do, pri
