Ignited (37 page)

“We did it,” she whispered. “We got him back.”

I’m not sure either of us had believed it was possible, but hoping had sustained us. An overwhelming tangle of emotions flooded through me as we sat on the floor, leaning against each other. Would Lucy forgive me when I sent her away? A sharp knife of pain stabbed me, and I shoved the thought away.
It’s too soon. Don’t think about it, Remy.

I brushed a black curl away from her face. “I’m sorry it took so long.” In an unspoken agreement, we spoke in quiet tones so we wouldn’t disturb our father.

“It doesn’t matter now. We’re all together again.” She bit her lip and looked at her hands. “He woke a while ago and asked about Mom. I had to tell him. He cried. I’ve never seen Dad cry.”

I had once. My father had cried when Dean had hurt me after my mother died. The abuse he’d abandoned me to had become very real to him when he saw the evidence firsthand. Nothing had been easy between my father and me, from the day he’d shown up at the hospital in Brooklyn. Once, things had gotten better, but then I’d made the mistake of finding Franc. Anxiety gutted me. “Does he . . .” My voice cracked, and I had to begin again. “Does he hate me?”

“Remy?” I jumped at my father’s voice, and I almost gave in to the urge to run away until he ordered, “Come here.”

The stern edge in his voice was exactly what I expected, and my heart sank. I rose and walked over to the bed with my head lowered because I couldn’t bear to see that the way he looked at me had changed.

“Dad, it wasn’t her fault . . .” Lucy started, but she drifted off when he held up a hand.

“Remy, look at me,” my father snapped. I forced myself to meet his fierce gaze and steeled myself for his hatred. But it wasn’t hate that I glimpsed in his navy eyes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Your sister told me everything, and Asher stopped by to fill me in on the rest.”

What could I say to defend myself? I’d lied and kept things from him. I’d made so many stupid mistakes. I wanted to look away again, but I couldn’t.

He continued in a gentler tone. “They told me how you kept everyone safe and how you put yourself in danger time and again to protect them. They told me that you nearly died trying to save your mother.”

Tears threatened, and I blinked rapidly.

“Hate you?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Do you think I don’t remember what you did in the forest before they took me?” He reached for my hand, and I gave it to him, unthinkingly. “Your grandfather ordered you to kill me, and you refused. You saved me instead.”

Every bit of me wanted to let him believe that about me, but I couldn’t. “It’s my fault that Franc found us. Laura would still be alive if I hadn’t gone to San Francisco.”

I tried to pull away, but he held tight to my hand. Lucy touched my back in support, but it didn’t help.

My father shook my hand, and the rough motion got my attention. “Were you driving the car that hit your mother?”

“No,” I choked. “But—”

“But nothing. Xavier was driving, and he intentionally steered that car at her. It was his fault, or your grandfather’s for bringing him there.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard, wearing one of Gabe’s T-shirts. “You know it kills me to see you standing there blaming yourself for this. Just like you blamed yourself for Anna’s death.”

“You don’t understand,” I told him.

“Don’t I? That power you have carries a heavy burden, more than any one person should have to bear. You heal people with your touch, Remy. Do you know how that amazes me? How proud I am when I think of how giving you are when so much has been taken from you?”

That did it. The dam collapsed, and a measly blink couldn’t stave off the tears that fell. My mother had never admitted she knew what I could do, let alone told me she was proud of me. My breath caught in a half-sob, half-gasp that hurt my chest and kind of squawked out of me. I thought I heard Lucy snicker behind me, and I didn’t care.

My father’s mouth held a hint of a smile before it straightened into a stern line again. “But your power doesn’t make you responsible for the world. You can’t save everyone, and nobody expects you to.”

“But Laura—”

“Was the love of my life. And I don’t know that I’ll ever stop missing her.” His eyes shone with unshed tears, and he cleared his throat. “But you didn’t kill her. Don’t put that on your shoulders. It’s not fair. To you or Lucy and me. We need you, baby.”

I inhaled, and when I exhaled it was like letting all of the baggage go. I’d thought my father would hate me and blame me, but he didn’t. He was right, and he didn’t even know how time was stealing away from us. If I couldn’t have my family forever, I could have them for now. At least until they recovered enough to go home.

I climbed onto the bed and sat beside my father, my back against the headboard like him. It reminded me of the morning before my graduation, when we’d been happy. I tilted my head until it rested on his shoulder. “I need you, too. Both of you,” I said.

His chest lifted as he exhaled in relief. Lucy sprawled across the foot of the bed, her legs thrown over mine. “Are you really okay?” she asked. “Asher said things got scary when you confronted Franc.”

“Alcais shot me,” I said. They both tensed, and I rushed to say, “I’m okay, though.” I didn’t confess that the others thought I was dead, or that she would have to leave without me soon. The guilt ate at me, but I shoved it away.

My father studied me long enough to see I wasn’t hurt and nudged Lucy with one foot. “What did you call your sister again? Duffy?”

“Buffy, Dad. Buffy. As in Vampire Slayer.”

“Oh God.” We stared at my father’s horrified expression. “Are vampires real, too?”

Lucy’s gaze met mine. Her lips trembled, and mine followed. Then we were both laughing.

My father grinned. “Gotcha.”

“Boo!” Lucy shrieked. “Bad joke.”

They started arguing, and I was content to listen to them. There were things we hadn’t said yet and the future we hadn’t discussed, but right now it seemed that we had an unspoken pact to ignore everything outside this moment. We were a family again, and that was enough.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-
ONE

A
month passed and nothing of consequence happened at the O’Malley house. The outside world was a different story, though. The police never sought us out. Word got out to the Morrisseys that my grandfather had double-crossed them. They couldn’t do much about it since Franc was dead and Alcais had disappeared. Seamus’s spies did learn that they had taken out their rage out on Mark, a traitor for his part in working against the Protectors. His body hadn’t been found yet, but then the Morrisseys had been
very
angry when they discovered that I was dead.

Seamus’s spies had done their job spreading the word that Franc and Alcais had killed me. On sleepless nights, I wondered if Alcais’s days were numbered. I guessed it depended on the Morrisseys’ reach and how long their memories were.

As promised, Seamus had arranged to get Erin’s body home to her mother. Dorthea had stayed long enough to retrieve her daughter, but the next day, the entire Healer community had uprooted and disappeared without a trace. Empty houses and disconnected phones were the only proof they had ever lived in Pacifica. Some of us speculated that they had scattered, giving up on the idea of a community altogether, but part of me hoped that they’d decided to start over somewhere new. Franc had betrayed them, but that didn’t mean everything he’d done had been wrong. They had been happy together, helping each other to survive. It saddened me to think that had dissolved, too.

While all of this happened, my family existed in a kind of time warp where nothing touched us. Perhaps it was the months apart or maybe it was everything we’d lost, but nothing mattered except learning what we could about each other. Lies were revealed. Confessions were made. And we savored our time together. But it wasn’t enough.

Everyone but my father and Lucy knew what was coming. I saw it in the compassionate looks that Asher and Lottie sent my way. And then there was Gabe and the silent way he watched me, like he expected me to break at any moment. He wasn’t far off. My father and Lucy thought I would be going home with them, and saying good-bye to them was going to kill me.

Thirty-two days after the rescue, I walked into the sitting room to find my father and Asher in a deep discussion. Something about their body language made me turn around and walk right back out of the room. It was no secret in the house that my father was having trouble sleeping at night. His body might be healed, but his soul had been worked over by whatever he’d endured those months he’d been held hostage. It was the one off-limits topic, the thing he refused to discuss with Lucy or me. But if anyone could understand what he’d gone through, it would be Asher.

I sat on the floor in the hall, guarding the door so nobody would interrupt them. That was where Seamus found me. He leaned one shoulder against the wall next to me, crossed his arms, and stared down at me. One of his dark brows rose in expectation.

“What?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.

Seamus had done everything in his power to make us comfortable, going so far as to treat us like family. He hadn’t told anyone what he suspected had happened to me that day in the garage.

“You’re a Phoenix,” he said.

I willed my face not to flood with color and I met Seamus’s eyes with more than a little guilt. I had worried that he would try harder to make me stay if I admitted what I was.

“No,” I blurted out. “You’re wrong.”

His head tipped to one side as he continued to study me. “If you say so,” he answered.

My hands grew clammy, and I wiped them on my jeans until Seamus’s gaze followed the movement.
He knows I’m lying.

“Do yourself a favor, and don’t ever play poker. You bluff as well as you nurse.” My mouth dropped open, and he tapped it shut before continuing. “Ah, well. I can’t very well blame you for wanting to be free of all of this.”

A hole had worn in the knee of my jeans, and I tugged on a loose thread. “You’re not mad?”

“At who?” He threw up his hands and looked around the hall with exaggerated movements. “Nobody but me and a dead girl here. Can’t stay mad at a dead girl.”

I stood and bussed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re a gentleman, Seamus O’Malley.” I leaned against the wall beside him, crossing my ankles. “What will you do now?”

Seamus scowled. “Despite what I think, Brita, Ursula, and Edith have decided that they no longer wish to hide. Apparently, you have infected them with the belief that they can change things. It’s Edith’s theory that if the Protectors learn of their existence, then maybe the Healers will be safer.”

I thought about it and guessed Edith could be right. The Protectors killed the Healers to feel something again, to remember what mortality was like. The three women could have the same effect on them without the killing. Going public could save the Healers that remained.

“Some people aren’t going to like that.” My mother had said that some Healers and Protectors would want to kill me because my power scared them. She’d been right, and the same would be true of the women if they made themselves known.

“Then the O’Malleys will be here to protect them, as we always have been.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” I hesitated a moment. “When I first came here, why didn’t you tell me about them?”

It had bothered me that he wanted me to trust him, but had lied by omission.

“You remember that painting of my wife?” I thought of the blond woman in the green dress. In the painting, she’d worn a necklace with a charm of a ruby-eyed phoenix. At my nod, Seamus continued, “She died a long time ago. One of the Phoenix murdered her.” My eyes widened, and he said, “Just because a person appears to be an ally, doesn’t mean they are. Until you know you can trust someone, it’s better to be a little cautious, isn’t it?”

I nodded in understanding. “Why do you want me to stay, Seamus? Won’t I just cause you more trouble?”

He smiled. “I protect the Phoenix. It’s who I am. I failed once when it mattered most, but watching over these women—who could become Phoenix—it’s like a second chance.”

That made sense to me. I had failed to watch over my family, too, and this time with them had been my second chance.

He continued. “If a woman were to become a Phoenix, there are things that she would need to know. Things a person like me could tell her.” He gave me a sly look. “Hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course,” I answered in a dry voice.
Who’s fooling whom here?

“Say, for instance, she should probably know that she is mortal. She’ll grow old and die just like the rest of the human race.”

Thank God,
I thought, but I said, “Is that right?”

“And a Phoenix can heal injuries instantly. Both her own and others’.”

Yep. Figured that one out the last time I healed Gabe.

Seamus tapped a finger to his lips in thought. “And most importantly, there’s the way she can make a Protector mortal in an instant, if she so chooses.”

WHAT!?!
I could make Gabe mortal if he wanted. Not in a few months, but now. I bit my lip, and then caved to my curiosity. “And how would she do that? Hypothetically, of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated, his eyes crinkled with laughter. “She would heal it like any other injury. Her body knows what to do instinctively.”

The ramifications of that spiraled through my mind. “Is that why the Healers and the Protectors killed the Phoenix?”

His amusement faded. “The Healers didn’t want people who could heal faster than they could. It threatened their way of life. And the Protectors . . . well, some of them never wanted to be mortal again. But the Phoenix are a powerful thing. You can’t extinguish their spirit.”

The door to the sitting room opened, and Asher exited, closing the door behind him again.

Seamus straightened. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.” Before he walked away, he glanced back at me over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with amusement again. “If you find your way back to the living, there will always be room for you here.”