Page 46 of Flames

He finds Nova’s face, then looks quickly to Sam. “It’s him,” he says. “It’s Sam. But there’s something else in there.”

“What do you mean, something else?” Nova moves closer and puts her hands on Tanner’s thighs. “What did you see?”

“I didn’t see anything. I couldn’t jump into his head because there was no room for me.” Tanner takes a shaky breath. “There was no room for me because something else is in his head already.”

32

NOVA

“Something else?” A shudder grips my shoulders. “What kind of something else?”

Tanner shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that it’s nothing good.”

“It makes sense…” Mack almost seems more curious than anxious. “The hellhounds were able to cross over because they’re not from either world. The King could have sent something back with Sam for the same reason.”

“You’re saying I have a demon in my head?” Sam strains against Luther’s restraints. “Don’t you think I’d know?”

“Not unless it wanted you to,” Mack says.

“But why?” Sam meets my eyes pleadingly. A jolt of sympathy makes me cross my arms over my stomach and hug myself.

“To kill me,” I tell him. “Isn’t that what you said the hellhounds were meant to do? Kill me so he can cross over?” I shake my head, a completely inappropriate bubble of laughter catching in my chest. I scrape my fingers through my hair. Hot tears are flicking in my gut. A wisp of smoke floats up from my skin. Sorrow and grief are turning rapidly to anger. I’m angry that I allowed myself to feel so happy And angry that nothing can ever be straightforward, and even angrier than I might be forced to say goodbye again.

“Nova,” Mack says, sending a cool breeze to kiss my skin in an attempt to calm the smoke. “We can figure this out. It will be alright.”

Sam is on his knees, his feet and wrists still bound by Luther’s magick. Staring at me, he says, “I would never betray you. Never. All I wanted was to return to you, but I’d never have agreed to this. I’d have suffered for a thousand years if it meant I could keep your safe.” He turns to the others. “Kill me,” he says, his words landing like daggers on my skin. “Kill me now before I can harm her.” He jerks forward, fixing his eyes on Luther like he knows he’d be the one to do it.

“Wait,” Mack says, looking at Luther as if he’s worried he’ll actually obey Sam’s plea. “That doesn’t have to be the answer. We don’t know what is inside of you, Sam, and we don’t know how long it will stay dormant. We have time. If Nova is in danger, we will protect her. But for now, we have a chance to fix this.”

I screw my eyes shut and turn my back to them. I’m struggling to keep my emotions in check. It’s too much. All of it is too much. “I can’t do this,” I whisper, unfolding my arms and letting them hang loose at my sides. “The four of you need to fix this because I can’t. I can’t listen to it, and I can’t watch it. I can’t stand around waiting to find out if Sam lives or dies or for whatever is in his head to snap.” My lower lip starts to wobble, and I bite it hard in an effort to stop the tears I know are building inside me. “I spent years with an abusive man. If Sam… I can’t…” The words won’t come out. I want to tell them that it will break me if Sam is the one who puts his hands on me—if Sam is the one who tries to cut, or burn, or hurt me.

Breathing a fragile breath that makes my shoulders shake, I walk away. I’m a few feet from the rocky path that leads behind the falls when I realize Luther has chased after me.

“I want to be alone.” I don’t look at him, just concentrate on pressing my body to the slick rocks and moving slowly past the rushing waterfall.

“Okay,” he says, inching along next to me. “Sure, you can be alone, but I have to come with you.”

My eyes flash hot as I turn to glare at him. Water splashes my face, but I don’t wipe it away. “Would you have done it?” I ask. “Would you have killed Sam if Mack hadn’t told you not to?”

Luther’s jaw twitches. “No,” he says. “But if there comes I time when I need to, in order to keep you safe, I won’t hesitate.”

I expect anger to burst like fireworks from my skin but searching Luther’s face, I see a sincerity that simply makes me sigh. I turn away from him and continue toward the back of the falls but as I hurry, desperate to be inside, and warm, and safe, my foot slips.

Luther catches me, ducks into the entrance of the cave, and holds me still. “You can’t be alone right now,” he says. “But I’ll keep my distance. I’ll stand way over in the corner of the cave. I promise.” He’s trying to make me smile, but I can’t. Because none of this is funny. Not one bit of it.

* * *

For what feels like hours, Luther and I sit in silence. I stare into the flames, close enough to feel their heat on my skin. I keep waiting for the fire’s sting to offer me some release—like it did when Luther used it to play with my body—but it doesn’t. I reach out, let it lick my fingers, wave them through the dancing warmth, but no release comes.

Luther watches me intently but doesn’t tell me to stop. Once or twice, the flames flare and send a flurry of sparks into the air around us, but I don’t know which one of us is responsible.

When he finally speaks, he asks if I’m thirsty.

“No,” I reply. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” he asks, taking a protein bar from the backpack next to him and waving it at me as if a slab of dry sugary oats might tempt me to say yes.

I shake my head.