Ignited (16 page)

He wrestled with the guilt as he got ready for bed, changing into his pajamas and brushing his teeth. As he pulled his covers up to his chin, he knew he would not get much sleep that night. His head was too full, too confused.

He knew what he ought to do. His oath required he put professional distance between him and Ruth, to make sure he treated her as he would any other patient. His heart required he kiss her as often as possible.

No matter how he tried, Henry could not think of a way to reconcile the two inclinations.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ruth

For the second night in a row, Ruth prepared to sneak out. She did not want to imagine how her father would react if he found out. He would not question her. He would not care about her motives. He would correct her as he saw fit, and she probably wouldn’t be able to leave the house because of a black eye.

But she remembered Henry’s lips against hers, the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, the rippling feeling of something completely new as she had moved against him, and how she’d wanted more and more of him.

It was desire, she knew, and it was supposed to be wrong. Try as she may, however, Ruth struggled to feel guilty for what she’d experienced. It had been so entirely unprecedented, so intoxicating—her body wanted more, even if her mind cautioned her to be careful.

She had so little experience with this sort of thing. Besides her expected betrothal to Arnold, the closest she had ever come to a crush was the first year of high school. She’d noticed how Charlie Huston had shot up six inches over the summer, and she had spent three months thinking about the broad line of his shoulders.

The feelings had faded with time, especially since Ruth had spent most of its duration concerned as to what her father would say if he ever found out about it. Since then she had done her best to limit her interactions with the opposite sex.

But this—this thing with Henry—she never could have expected it. How could she have known, before she’d met him, that there was anyone in the world who seemed to understand her so easily, so intuitively? And how could she have guessed he would be handsome and awkward and shy and
wonderful
and—

Her heart felt near to bursting. Even if she knew her father wouldn’t approve, she couldn’t walk away from Henry. Not now, not when she’d only just discovered the joy of his lips on hers. There was so much unchartered territory. She wanted to pursue this, to follow this lead, to scout what had always seemed like such a foreign concept.

But it was more than kissing that drove her to her window, opening it and working at popping out the screen as quickly and silently as possible. Ruth propped the window open with a book and slipped over the sill to the grass below. The kissing was important, of course, and she was very, very interested in it, had found herself distracted all day by the memory of it. But more than that, more than the desire to see him, to be near him, to soak in his company … Ruth wanted to learn how to control this thing inside of her.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. She knew because she had tried to do so for far too long. The powers were real, and they were not going away. Maybe Henry could find a solution, but in the interim, she needed to know how to control herself.

And, she thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to know how to use them. Maybe it would be … nice.

The other powerful people in town … except for June, she barely knew any of them. Ruth didn’t doubt that she could go to June with this, and that her friend would be kind and supportive. She also suspected, however, that June would urge her to meet the other powerful people, and Ruth wasn’t quite ready for that. She’d spent weeks hearing about the evils of being associated with these so-called powerful people. It wasn’t going to be easy to see herself as one of them.

The town had shunned her for most of her life. She couldn’t suddenly begin to trust people just because she had something in common with them.

Her hesitations with Henry had melted away, but only because he had so consistently proved himself to be on her side. He wasn’t just trying to help her find a cure, he was helping her curb the accidents in the meantime. Henry did not have any reason to hurt her, and she was scared—to the very depths of her bones. The marrow inside of her was shaking. Trusting was hard. But, after years of experience, she knew that being alone was harder.

She wanted to trust him. She wanted to kiss him, as well, but she wanted to trust him, first and foremost.

The trip to the swim beach on the southeast edge of Lake Perseverance took twenty minutes by foot on a normal day. But this wasn’t a normal day, and Ruth stayed off the normal route. She crossed the bridge and immediately cut away from the road, fighting through the tall grass of the meadows and forests just north of town.

The moon hung high in the sky, nearly full. It made her walk there much easier, illuminating her way. She had not often been out late at night. Edward was a believer in being early to bed and early to rise. She had never seen the night sky look so beautiful. Had it been any other night, she might have lingered.

Tonight, however ….

The lake suddenly loomed ahead of her, still and silent in the quiet night. Even if she didn’t have much in the way of friends, she had attended high school, and she was wise enough to know she needed to tread carefully. The lake was a popular spot for necking, if rumors were to be believed. She kept away from the water’s edge, hoping it would give her the stealth she needed.

Henry was already there when she arrived, standing off the beach, back against a tree. He nervously scuffed the toe of his shoe back and forth in the dirt, and she took a moment just to watch him, see him when he didn’t know she could.

Oh, but he was handsome.

His dark hair gleamed in the moonlight, and he ruffled it as he fidgeted. It stuck up every which way around him. He was lean, but she knew from the way he’d picked her up last night that being slim belied a more powerful body. She watched as he paced a bit. From a distance, it looked like he was rehearsing what he planned to say. He formed noiseless words, scrubbing at his face with a free hand. It was so endearing, she could hardly stand it.

He was honest and real and open and kind and she liked him so much it somehow frightened her and made her feel alive at the exact same time.

She cleared her throat, and Henry looked up, eyes gone wide in surprise. The moonlight made his face glow, and she felt herself move closer to him unbidden. A moth drawn to his light.

“You came,” he said, scrambling to close the distance between them. “I was afraid I had scared you off.”

The smile bloomed on her face without her even thinking about it. Even just looking at him made her feel strangely effervescent. “You didn’t.”

“I’m so glad.”

They hesitated for a moment, standing too close, smiling too wide. Nerves washed over Ruth’s body. This was happening, and it was real. It was all new and strange and somewhat terrifying. She didn’t know how to act, if she should flirt or laugh or—

“So, should we get straight to work?” Henry asked, backing away.

She blinked. “What?”

“I know you can create flames, but how do they manifest? Can you create them anywhere, and can you shoot them? How do you keep them from hurting you? Do you have to think about something in particular or,” he paused, fished around in his back pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. He opened it and waved it at her sheepishly. “I wrote down all my questions so I wouldn’t forget.”

Ruth shook her head, trying to clear it. She had thought—but Henry was a professional. It made sense that he would want to focus and not to kiss her. Part of her wondered if maybe he’d been put off when her powers had come between them the night before.

Tamping down her disappointment, she took the piece of paper from him and skimmed it. “I don’t know the answer to most of these. I don’t—I mean, I’ve just tried to ignore the power and cover the evidence when things went wrong.”

He smiled kindly. “Not the soundest course of action.”

“I know,” she said. She held out his questions to him, and once he’d taken them back, she curled her arms around herself. “I—I’m really scared.”

“Hey. We’re going to figure this out, don’t worry. I’ll help you.” The look on his face was eager and assured, and she nearly believed him. “Let’s start with the easy stuff. How does this usually happen?”

Ruth took a deep breath, steadying herself. Getting emotional had proved to be a detriment to her powers in the past. She did not want to embarrass herself more than she already had when she’d nearly thrown herself at him.

“It happens in my sleep sometimes. Or when I’m very upset. Or last night, when we …,” she trailed off, not wanting to put words to their actions. How was she supposed to describe what had happened inside her when she’d been pressed up against his body?

Henry tapped his fingers against his chin, brows drawn together. “Okay, so it seems to affect you most when you’re out of control, like when you’re sleeping or emotional. And emotional either way, happy or sad. Does that sound right?”

She considered it, and then nodded. “So I just have to never lose control?”

He laughed, and she dropped her gaze to the ground, flinching back. She hadn’t expected him to find the situation amusing. She hugged herself tighter, trying to fight down her emotions before she had another outburst.

There was a gentle touch on her elbow, and her eyes snapped up. Henry was frowning, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise. It’s just—it’s impossible for you to be in control
all
the time. You’re not a robot.” A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. “You’re human. You’re going to get emotional, and that’s fine.”

She gave a frustrated groan. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You can’t control how you feel, so you have to learn to control how you react.” 

His hand was still on her elbow, and it slowly inched up her arm. Ruth tried to quash the part of her that insisted she throw herself into his arms. 

“Let’s try something,” Henry said. “I’ll try to provoke a strong emotion, and you just … let yourself do whatever comes naturally to you.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

He shrugged. “Well, what tends to cause you to react?” He took a few steps back, getting clear of the area where she could conceivably catch fire. “We could talk about your father.”

She felt her temperature climb a few degrees. “I think that’s a bad idea.”

“Maybe, but you’re already flushing.” Henry shoved his hands in his pockets and toed at the dirt beneath his sneaker. She’d never seen him in anything other than dress shoes before. There was something endearing about seeing him in something so casual. “I’m just … worried for you, Ruth. I heard what he said at that sermon yesterday. He’s trying to galvanize the whole town against people like you. Like those meetings he’s holding.”

Everything was too warm. “Henry ….”

“Or when he put those bruises on you. I think we should go talk to Officer Harris. We could get Matt’s perspective on things, find out if we can legally keep your father away from you. Have you ever met Matt?”

The fire seemed to burn through her veins and then, suddenly, her hands were aflame. The fire crawled quickly up to her forearms. Surprise gave way to panic, and she shook her hands. The flames got bigger. She looked up to catch Henry’s eye, to scream at him to help her, to put her out, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Henry!”

“I’m behind you,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm in his ear. “Are you in pain?”

It was hard to be hysterical around someone who sounded so soothing. The flames licked at her skin, and it prickled uncomfortably, but it was not unbearable. She shook her head. “It’s not pleasant, but it’s not terrible. It only hurts me if I lose my concentration, or if I let it go on too long.”

“If it becomes even a little painful, I want you to try to stop, okay? But don’t worry if you can’t.” He went quiet, and then added, “You’re amazing, you know?”

Instantly, her arms were just her arms, the flames disappearing. She felt almost disappointed. It was the longest she had been able to sustain them without hurting herself. Henry’s words echoed inside her head, and she turned to look at him.

“You can’t say things like that,” she said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt.

He smiled at her, all teeth and crinkled eyes. “I am going to give you as many compliments as I like.” Before she could react, he plucked up her hand and brought it close to his eyes so he could examine it by the light of the moon. “How are you feeling? A little tender?”

She shrugged but made no move to take her hand back. “A bit.”

He nodded, considering. “You did a nice job keeping your head this time, and you were able to hold the flames for just over twelve seconds without major pain. How does that compare to your usual …,” he hesitated over the word. “Reaction?”

“That’s the longest I’ve been on fire without hurting myself.” The thought was cheering. Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as she thought. “Can we try again?”

Henry grinned. “You bet.”

An hour later, Ruth lay in the grass by the water, panting. “I never want to see fire again.”

It had been a productive night. Henry had helped her manifest her power seven times, and each time, she’d held onto the flames a little longer, had felt a little less pain. She’d managed to control herself for almost forty seconds in the most recent trial before the flames had extinguished themselves from her sheer exhaustion. Her head was starting to throb.

Henry sat down next to her, picking at the blades of grass and tearing them apart. “I think—and this is just my theory at the moment, I haven’t actually looked at anyone’s records to confirm—but I think your powers are a sort of … mental muscle. Tonight was your first time giving it a proper workout, so of course you’re tired. But I think if you keep practicing, you’ll build it up. Make it stronger, have more control.”