Ignited (10 page)

She watched Asher holding Lucy, and I realized that she didn’t know. None of them had a clue about what I’d done. She thought me bowed with grief, but that wouldn’t last when my post-healing hypothermia kicked in. Using the wall as a crutch, I rose to my feet, thinking to get help. Asher could help me. My heart skipped a beat, stuttering like it would stop again. My legs almost gave out under me, and I leaned against the wall to stay upright. Every breath hurt, and my head throbbed with a pain so intense I gritted my teeth. Even the light hurt, the fluorescent rays burning the back of my skull.

My movements drew Lucy’s gaze. She swung around, an avenging angel pointing a finger at me. “This is your fault!” she screamed.

In that instant, I knew it would be useless to tell her that I’d tried my best to save our mother.

She shoved me, and I slammed into the wall, almost losing my footing. “You brought this on us. I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you!”

Her shouting drew attention that we couldn’t afford, and Asher tried to hush her. He couldn’t even look at me. Lottie stepped toward Lucy, too, and I used the distraction to stumble away from them. My shaky limbs threatened to give out, but through sheer force of will, I kept going, even as my teeth chattered and chills racked my body. I didn’t stop moving until I saw a sign for the hospital chapel. The wooden door opened with a slight shove, and I entered the dim room, grateful to find myself alone. Powers depleted, I collapsed on a pew in the darkened back corner, curling into myself as a cold sweat broke out on my skin. I fought off a wave of nausea.

I should have been crying. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. Everything hurt too much.

Growing up with Dean and my mother had taught me about pain, though. I’d learned ways of dealing with it when I’d understood how my fear had excited Dean. My stepfather had used my emotions like weapons against me, and so I’d buried them. I set about doing that now. By the time the last of the shivers faded, I had dug a hole so deep that I could almost pretend I felt nothing. Almost.

At the funeral, I hid behind oversized sunglasses and watched my stepmother be buried far from her home with only the Blackwells, my sister, and me at her graveside. It shouldn’t have been this way. My stepmother had been loved by so many people, and she’d deserved to have all those people present to celebrate her life and mourn her death. My father should have been there to grieve for his wife, but he didn’t even know she was gone.

My fault, my fault, my fault.
My heart almost seemed to beat to the words now.

After the service, we drove back to Lottie’s apartment. She’d rented a small one-bedroom to stay in while she watched over Laura. The place felt crowded with four people occupying a space meant for one. Sadness stifled the air, making every breath a workout even before you factored my weakness into things. Despite the cold outside, I slipped through the sliding glass door off the living room. Lottie had a couple of lounge chairs on the enclosed balcony, and I curled up on one, tucking my legs under the skirt of my black dress. Even the gray skies seemed to mourn my stepmom, crying tears that I couldn’t. The rain poured down a few feet away, creating an invisible wall around the balcony and making a mess of the snow on the ground. Nobody could see me, and I let my guard down for a minute.

The second I stopped trying to hide the pain, it engulfed me. A sharp, constant ache bashed the inside of my skull like the mother of all migraines, making the sunglasses a necessity to block out the light. Sometimes my heart beat erratically like it would explode out of my chest. The damage was serious, and it took the little energy I had to stay upright and moving. I could have asked Asher to help me heal myself, but that option had been taken off the table. I would rather deal with the pain than see him hate me for making him weaker. The same was true of Lottie.

It turned out it wasn’t too difficult to hide my injuries when everyone avoided me. Lottie kept her distance, not wanting to be human. My sister could hardly look at me. She had no idea I’d tried to heal our mother. I could have told her, but what was the point? I’d failed. And Asher . . . Things had changed between us so completely that a piece of my soul had been severed and then cauterized.

The sliding glass door opened, and Asher stepped out like my thoughts had called him. Maybe they had because my mental guard was down. He carried a plate of food, which he put on the ground by my chair. He’d changed out of his dark suit and into jeans and a light blue T-shirt that molded to his muscles. He looked strong and the desire to lean on him was so tempting. Whatever nightmares he might be having, he was hiding it well.

“You should eat,” he said with worry in his voice.

If he suspected how close I’d come to dying, he didn’t say. I nodded. I wouldn’t eat, but I wanted him to go away. His presence and the ever-growing distance between us magnified the pain, and I couldn’t take much more. Instead of leaving like I wanted, he sat across from me in the other chair. His perusal ate at me. I knew what I looked like. The injuries had taken their toll even in a few days. I’d lost weight I couldn’t spare, and without the sunglasses to hide them, my eyes had taken on a sunken quality.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice. “You’ve hardly said a word in days.”

“I’m dealing,” I said with no emotion. I changed the subject. “How’s Lucy?”

She’d disappeared into Lottie’s bedroom when we’d returned to the apartment. Her sobs had echoed through the rooms until I’d had to retreat to the balcony.

“Not good. She needs you.”

My mouth curved in a humorless smile. “She hates me. I’m the last person she needs.”

“It wasn’t your fault. She knows that.”

Lies. Don’t lie to me, Asher.
It hurt how much I wanted to believe him. I rubbed a hand against my chest when it tightened. “You don’t have to take care of me, Asher. It’s not your job anymore, remember?”

Please go away.
I just wanted to be alone. It was easier that way.

Asher didn’t hear my thought or chose to ignore it. “You can’t let her grieve alone.”

I swung my legs to the side of the chair and faced him. “She has you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not you.”

I had been thinking about this since I’d left the chapel. Lucy needed someone, but she didn’t want me. Asher didn’t want to be around me because of how my powers changed him. The three of us were stuck together, but we’d often paired off for surveillance. Usually, I’d taken care of Lucy, but I didn’t see how that could work anymore.

“She needs a friend, but it can’t be me.” My lip quivered, and I bit down on it hard enough to break the skin. “Lottie certainly isn’t going to do it.”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask him, but he understood anyway. “You want me to watch out for her.”

It wasn’t a question. “Please,” I begged. “She won’t be alone, and you won’t have to be near me. Problem solved.”

His jaw clenched in frustration. “Don’t do that. I care about you, Remy. I know you’re hurting, even if you won’t admit it.”

For a moment, I thought he was acknowledging my injuries, but the emotion on his face didn’t fit. Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I spread my hands. “I’ll say whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Just please do this. I don’t want her to feel alone.”

“But it’s okay for you to be alone?” he asked.

My breath hissed out. “I
am
alone. You broke up with me, remember?”

He glanced away, his cheeks flushing pink in guilt. He rested his elbows on his knees, his white-knuckled hands clasped between them. He was so close, mere inches away. My defenses shook, and I thought,
Please touch me, Asher. Make me feel something other than the pain.

The rain continued to fall, and Asher’s expression didn’t change.

“I didn’t mean for things to happen like this,” he said.

That statement encompassed so many things. He hadn’t meant to become mortal. He hadn’t meant to be taken hostage. He hadn’t meant to attack me in the middle of a nightmare. He hadn’t meant to break up with me the night before my stepmother died. He hadn’t meant to fall out of love with me. None of this was his fault.

“I know. I’m sorry.” I hooked my hair behind my ear and stared at my feet. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

His toe almost touched mine, and I shifted away. I couldn’t let him touch me. Not now, when I was hanging on by an unraveling thread.

“I want to know you’re okay,” he said.

I’m far from it,
I thought. I shrugged. “Of course. Aren’t I always?”

He stared into my eyes like he was trying to read my mind.
I need you, Asher,
I thought.
I’m right here.
He rose, putting his hands in his pockets, the way he often did around me. The better to avoid touching me.

“I’ll watch out for Lucy,” he promised. “You have my word.”

“Then everybody wins.”

Asher didn’t answer, and I couldn’t blame him. Even I didn’t believe that lie. He disappeared into the apartment, and I turned away, clutching my stomach. The tears almost came then, as I mourned one more death. I’d figured out what wasn’t right. My defenses had been down, and he hadn’t known. He hadn’t been able to read my thoughts.

Our bond was broken.

Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” blared out and snapped me out of a dreamless sleep. It had taken me ages to fall asleep on the couch, and I didn’t appreciate being woken. I opened one eye to glance at the clock on Lottie’s wall. Six
P.M.
I groaned. Lottie had left her phone on the coffee table. I would have to kill her or make her taste pickles later, at the very least. Beside the phone was a note in Asher’s handwriting.
Took Lucy and Lottie to grab dinner. Didn’t want to wake you. Be back by 7.

It didn’t escape me that they’d probably wanted to get away from me. The phone rang again, and I glanced at the screen out of habit. The caller ID read
Gabe,
and I snapped up the phone without another thought.

“Gabe?”

There was a moment of silence and his deep voice came over the line. “Remy? Where’s Lottie?”

He didn’t sound upset exactly, but I could hear the confusion in his clipped British accent. “Out to dinner with Asher and Lucy. I was asleep.”

“Ah . . . I’m sorry I woke you.” Another awkward pause. “How are you?”

“Fine.”
Awful. “
What about you? Where are you?”

“Europe. Paris, to be exact. I’ve been meeting up with old friends, other Protectors. There’s an old story about someone like you, born of both bloodlines sometime in the sixteen hundreds. I’ve been asking around, but so far it seems to be more fairy tale than truth.”

That sounded about right. I wouldn’t have believed stories about someone like me, either.

He continued. “I’ve been asking about Franc, too, but if people know the Protectors who are helping your grandfather, they’re not talking.”

I’d hurt Gabe when I chose Asher. He’d told me that he loved me, and I’d rejected him. Gabe could have washed his hands of me, but he was out there searching for answers.

“Thanks for trying,” I said in a husky voice. “It means a lot.”

“Remy, what’s wrong?” he demanded. “Why are you with Lottie?”

I sighed. “You haven’t spoken to her? Or Asher?”

“Not for a few weeks. I’ve been around Protectors, and there’s been too much gossip about us. I didn’t want to take any chances until I was clear. What’s going on?”

His voice dropped, and the sound of it rumbled over me. The throbbing started behind my eyes, and I let my head fall back against the pillow.

“Aren’t we friends still? Come on, Remington.”

That old nickname cracked off a piece of the iceberg that had taken up residence inside me. “It’s Laura,” I blurted out. “She died.” My voice cracked, and I threw an arm up to cover my eyes.

His breath gusted out in a weighty sigh. “Oh man. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. How are you holding up?”

“Lucy’s devastated,” I said. “She blames me. I . . . Well, I’m sure she just needs time.”

A lifetime should about do it.

“I didn’t ask about Lucy. I asked about you. How are you?”

I never could fool him. “As well as can be expected, I guess. My heart is broken.”

“Did you try to heal her?”

He asked the question without blame, but I felt guilty anyway.

“She was too far gone,” I said. He would assume that meant I didn’t try to heal her, and I was okay with that. What could Gabe do if he knew? My chest constricted and I rubbed a circle on it with my fist. “It doesn’t matter. Listen, I think you should know . . .”

I hesitated. If I told Gabe that Asher was losing his powers, Asher might be angry. Maybe it would be better for him to tell his brother in his own time. Except we were headed back to San Francisco tomorrow. What if Asher got hurt?

“Yeah?” Gabe prompted. “What should I know?”

“Call Asher,” I said. It was my compromise. Gabe would know something was up, but I wouldn’t have to betray Asher. “Soon,” I added to be safe.

There was a moment of silence. “There you go taking care of other people again,” he said, and I knew he understood. “Who’s taking care of you, Remington?” he asked in a softer voice.