by H G Lynch
“There we go. You’ve stopped shivering.” Ricky winked, smoothing his hand down her arm.
Surprised, she held up her hand and saw he was right. Her hand was steady as a rock. Huh. She melted down into the duvet and sighed, blissful warmth finally encircling her. She slipped off her gloves and tossed them to the floor. Ricky chuckled and turned out the lamp, slid down the bed, and put an arm over her. Her eyes fell shut, and she snuggled close to him, sucking up his lovely body heat. He smelled fresh and sweet, like honeysuckle and menthol.
He whispered into her hair as she began the slow, hazy descent into sleep, “Sleep tight, my angel.”
***
Meanwhile, Ember was sitting in the park, slowly swaying on her swing, watching the stars wink between the clouds. It was cold, but not so cold that she couldn’t stand it. She tugged her jumper sleeves down over her gloves — Well, Reid’s gloves actually. She’d nicked his fingerless gloves off the nightstand before she’d snuck out. He’d been sleeping peacefully when she’d left.
The swing chains creaked and the wind moaned through the scratching tree branches. A dog barked somewhere in the night, a distant howl. Her breath made little puffs of white mist in front of her face, and she could hear each breath of the icy air scraping in and out of her throat. There was so much noise. And that was what she’d wanted. Why she’d come out here at three in the morning, with only a jumper thrown over her pyjamas, and fluffy boots on her feet. She’d had that nightmare again, and woken up in a cold sweat. Thankfully, she hadn’t woken Reid, though she could’ve used his strong arms around her. At least she knew he was safely in bed, where nothing was getting to him. Not tonight anyway.
She sighed, brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and yawned. She let her eyes slip closed, just for a moment, feeling the harsh wind whip at her face, hearing all the little whispering noises of the night around her. Then something nudged her knee and she yelped, nearly jumping out of her swing seat. Looking down, she glared at the offender. It was a fluffy red fox, rubbing itself against her legs.
“What’re you doing out here at this time?” she asked accusingly. The fox’s form blurred and shuddered, and in under a minute, Hiro stood before her, wearing his heavy boots and thick fleece.
He shrugged as he took the swing next to her and began swinging. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said quietly.
She could only see him in profile, but she could tell he was grinning, as always. She frowned, looked out at the pure white snow blanketing the park. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly.
Hiro cast a glance at her, stopped swinging. “Yeah, me neither. When I’m restless, I always jog about as a fox for a while. Chills me out.” He tilted his head back to look at the sky, his odd eyes pale and reflective in the darkness. Then a lifeless half-smirk curled his lip. “I don’t know why I just told you that. Not like you care.” He sighed and shook his head.
Ember gazed at him evenly, thoughtfully. She wondered what had happened to him that had made him like he was. He shrugged everything off as if it were funny, didn’t appear to want to let anyone in to help, yet he was clearly homeless. Something bad must’ve happened.
“Like what you see? Take a picture. It lasts longer,” he said suddenly, turning to smirk at her. Only, his smirk faded quickly and he was just staring at her with an expression she couldn’t read.
She smiled slightly at him, and he dropped his gaze. He started swinging again, and the chains clinked and squealed unhappily.
They sat like that for a while, swinging in the snowy park. Ember had been lost in her thoughts when something tickled her nose. She looked up, blinking, and saw it was snowing again. And the sky was lightening, turning from navy to a deep azure blue in the distance. The stars started to fade, glistening their final goodnights before they were washed away in the increasing brightness. With a sigh, she stood up, her muscles stiff and groaning like old floorboards. She looked round and saw Hiro wasn’t on his swing anyone. He must’ve gone inside, she thought, probably a sensible idea.
But as she crunched through the snow to the edge of the park, where the grass met the pavement in a muddy boundary, a little streak of orange darted up to her and yipped at her ankles.
She smiled. “There you are. I thought you’d gone inside.”
Hiro shook his little foxie head, his ears twitching. She reached down and petted him softly, wondering if he was offended by the gesture. But he just nudged his black nose up into her hand and trotted off toward the front door. He paused there, waiting for her to open it.
“You could open it yourself, you know,” she said, quietly pushing the door open and hoping nobody was already up. Hiro tilted his head, looking astoundingly like he was arching a brow at her, though, as a fox, he didn’t have any eyebrows. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh, whatever. Go curl up in your den of blankets. It’s too early to be awake yet. I’m going back to bed,” she waved a dismissive hand at him and headed down the hall, pausing to dump her soggy boots at the radiator in the study.
Hiro paced after her and disappeared into the back room, presumably to snuggle back into the pile of blankets she’d laid out on the sofa. She had asked him the day before if he’d rather have her make up the sofa like a proper bed, but he’d just grinned and said nah, he preferred sleeping as a fox anyway.
Back in her room, Ember slipped off her jumper and Reid’s gloves, put his gloves back on the nightstand where she’d found them, and slid back into the bed. The warmth instantly hugged her, and the thick duvet pressed down on her. She shivered once; she hadn’t realised how cold she really was. Part of the pros of being half-vamp.
But now that she was inside, her toes felt icy. She curled them into the soft sheet and buried herself in the duvet up to her chin. Reid, still asleep, shifted, mumbled her name. She guessed he was dreaming, and was tempted to peek into his head to see what he was dreaming about. Decided against it, mainly because she was too tired. She yawned and moved closer to him, his sense-meltingly lovely spiced-apple scent filled in her nose. She breathed it in, letting it warm the path to her ice-encrusted lungs. Reid sighed, and she felt his fingers smooth over hers, wondered for a moment if he really was asleep. She gave his fingers a light squeeze, but he didn’t react. Yeah, he was still sleeping. She kept hold of his fingers anyway, feeling safer with his hand in hers. It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep, wrapped in a blissful kind of silence.
Chapter Eight
Reid’s hand was gone from hers the next morning. She blinked her eyes open, stretching her arm across the sheets. Reid was already up and she could hear the shower running next door, but his spiced-apple scent still lingered on his pillow. She smiled, stretching herself out across the mattress and feeling her muscles rejoice after the pain she’d done them last night, sitting in one place, in the snow, for several hours. The sound of the shower pattering cut off and a few moments later, the door clicked open. Reid padded into the room, his hair a damp halo of messy gold around his head. He had a towel tied round his waist, drops of water slid off his hair and rolled down his shoulders.
He grinned at Ember when he saw she was awake. “Hello there, Sleeping Beauty. You slept late today.” He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair, tousling it further.
Ember frowned and glanced at the clock. It was after 11a.m.
“Oh, crap!” she scrambled off the bed and nearly tripped over her own two feet.
Reid chuckled, went to the window to pull back the curtains. Cold, white light poured into the room and Ember shielded her eyes.
“Did you have a late night rendezvous or something last night? I’d expected you to be up and about at eight this morning,” Reid commented lightly, digging through the wardrobe and coming up with a pair of jeans with slashes in the knees. He looked at the jeans, considering, shrugged, and chucked them on the bed.
Ember just watched him.
Aside from a few times when he’d had to dress hastily and sneak out of her room at night back at Aco
rn Hills, she’d never really seen him dress. Of course, he was about as careless about what he wore as she’d expected. It seemed his good looks didn’t come from hours of preening and a half dozen wardrobe choices.
He must’ve felt her watching him, because he turned and arched a brow at her. “Something fascinating?” he asked, glanced at the t-shirt he was holding and tossed it on the bed with the jeans.
“Not really.” She shrugged, then she took another look at the clock and sighed. “I guess I should get dressed and everything,” she groaned and collapsed back onto the bed anyway. It wasn’t so much that she was tired, more just that she couldn’t be bothered with all the stress and hassle she knew she would face if she left this room. Whereas, if she curled up in bed again, she could go back to sleep and pretend the outside world was carrying on as normal.
Reid laughed, and dropped onto the bed beside her, leaning down on one elbow. His blue eyes sparkled at her through strands of blond hair, and his expression softened.
“You know we’re going to get through this, right? It’s just going to be a little harder than before. But, so long as you keep your chin up, we can handle it. You’re not all alone, you know? You’ve got Sherry and Ricky, and I’m not going anywhere.” He stroked his thumb gently across her cheek.
She felt a blush rise to heat her skin, and dropped her gaze. “Yeah, I know. It’s just so…”
“I know.” He smiled then, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. Then he ruffled her hair. “Better get dressed, Firefly. Ricky and Sherry were buzzing on about something earlier. I think they’ve got some sort of news. I wasn’t interested enough to ask about it, but I’m sure you’ll want to know.” He got gracefully off the bed, snagged his clothes off the end of the rumpled bed, and padded back into the bathroom to get dressed.
Ember sighed and just lay there for a moment with her eyes closed. Eventually though, she got it together and got up. Well, lying here isn’t going to save humanity. I’ve got things to do today.
***
“Okay, what’s all the buzz about, you two?”
Sherry and Ricky were muttering rapidly to each other by the fireplace, and both flinched guiltily when Ember spoke from the doorway. Then Ricky’s face lit up excitedly, but Sherry looked a little anxious. Ember waited for an answer, strolling into the room with her arms crossed. She paused at the nearest armchair before flinging herself into it with a sigh, watching them with an expectant expression.
“Go on. Tell her,” Ricky muttered, squeezing Sherry’s hand.
Sherry bit her lip, frowning.
Ember tilted her head. “Tell me what precisely? And I swear, Sherz, if you say you’re pregnant—”
“Oh, God, no! Nothing like that!” Sherry blurted, then swallowed, and tried a watery smile.
Slightly amused, Ember waited.
Finally, Sherry sighed. “Well…You know how, ever since I came back, I’ve been trying to work out my powers —without too much success?” she started, paused.
Ember nodded, her curiosity and suspicion mingling now.
Sherry took a breath. “And you know how you’re, like, the major Fire-Soul?” she continued hesitantly.
With narrowed eyes, Ember nodded again. “Uh huh.”
“Well, um, lately, I’ve kind of been getting this new power. Sort of. It’s like…I feel the weather. Before it happens. And when it happens. Like when it’s raining, I feel rain on my skin. Even when I’m inside.” She paused, her expression guilty and deflated.
Ember wasn’t sure what her own expression was saying, but obviously Sherry didn’t like it.
“Um…and you didn’t feel like mentioning this sooner?” She didn’t mean to sound accusing, but she must have, because Sherry flinched and dropped her gaze. Ember sighed, swept her hair impatiently off her face. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me? I know it’s no fun having powers and not knowing how to use them or even what they are. Or not having anyone else understand. Until I met Cris, I felt like that. But you’ve got me, Sherz—” Ember had to admit, she was a little hurt that Sherry hadn’t told her sooner. Weren’t they supposed to tell each other everything? Wasn’t that just what Sherry had been saying the other day, when Ember didn’t want to open up about her nightmare? They were meant to be there for each other, equally.
“I know, I know. I just…to start with, I just didn’t want to ruin your holiday. You seemed so happy just to escape some of the supernatural stuff for a while. And then, I was going to tell you the other day, but Raphael showed up and dropped the bomb of all bombs on us, and I didn’t want to stress you out any more,” Sherry knotted her fingers together in agitation.
Ember closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. When she opened them again, Sherry was looking at her with soulful green eyes.
“Come here. Come on, over here.” Ember gestured her best friend over.
Looking puzzled —and a little worried about what Ember might be about to do — she walked over to Ember’s armchair and knelt beside it. Ember grabbed the girl and wrapped her arms around her tightly.
“Don’t you ever worry about stressing me out. Your problems will always be most important, whether or not the human race is at risk, or even if the world is ending. I’m here to look after you, first and foremost, you got that? When you have a problem, or just something you want to talk about, you tell me. No matter what. Okay?” She pulled back and looked Sherry in the eyes firmly.
Sherry’s eyes were wet with unshed tears. The green-eyed girl nodded.
Ember smiled gently. “Good.”
Sherry sniffled, still nodding. “I know all that. I do. And I promise I’ll tell you next time. But, see, Ricky has a theory about my new power. I was freezing cold last night, even with socks and gloves on and Ricky next to me, because it was freezing outside. I feel the temperature like that when it’s really intense. So, Ricky thought that maybe, since some of your blood’s effects got twisted when I came back, maybe your Fire Ability got twisted too. Like, instead of being able to control fire, what if I can control the cold? And because I don’t know how to use it yet, the power shows itself as this ‘feeling-the-weather’ thing?” Sherry’s eyes dried and became very bright. She was almost smiling now.
Ember took a moment to think it through. It seemed like sound logic. Funny things happened when you mixed supernatural blood with human blood. Just look at her. She was a freak, albeit one that had more issues than most. Like the fate of humanity resting on her shoulders. Not important right now. Focus.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” she said finally.
Sherry’s face lit up, and she let out a breath of relief. “So…You think I could have a cool power like yours? I could learn to control this thing so I don’t feel the weather —which sucks by the way. You have no idea how much.”
Ember grinned. “Hell, yeah. I think if you can control it, you could kick some serious ass.” She nudged Sherry’s arm playfully.
After a moment of looking thoughtful, Sherry beamed at her. “Could I kick your ass? I’ve always wanted to be able to,” she teased.
Ember laughed and shook her head. “We’ll see. I’m not sure anyone’s that good, Sherz. But we’ll see,” she smirked.
Sherry grabbed a cushion from the sofa and lobbed it at Ember. It hit her head, messing her hair.
Ember squealed. “Ah! Cheater! That’s a weapon!” she accused, throwing the cushion back.
It missed by a mile, and Sherry snorted. “It’s a cushion. Hardly going to kill anyone, is it?” she picked up the cushion and got ready to throw again.
Ember held her hands up protectively, bracing for the impact. “It could! You could smother someone with it!” she said, giggling.
“Would that even kill you? I mean, seriously, would you just come back to life? Or un-life? …Whatever,” Sherry laughed, tossed the cushion, hitting Ember’s upheld hands.
It was a good question actually. She did have to breathe, she knew that much, though not as much as normal people. She could hold
her breath for longer than she should’ve been able to. But she remembered choking on river water, being pulled under the surface again and again like a bobbing fishing line, feeling her lungs burning and her mouth filling with acrid water, clutching a smooth wooden puzzle piece in one hand with numb fingers. What would’ve happened if Reid hadn’t dived in and pulled her out that day? Would she have drowned and then woken up somewhere downstream, like nothing had happened? Or would she have just stopped breathing for good?
“Vampires don’t need to breathe. They do it out of habit, so that they don’t frighten humans. Witches, though, do need to breathe. An Elemental needs to breathe just the same as a witch does, though it takes less air to oxygenate the blood, seeing as some of the blood taken from…donors, is already oxygenated. So, no, if Ember stopped breathing for long enough, she wouldn’t come back. Vampire blood or not,” a cold, clinical voice explained, seemingly from nowhere.
Ember and Sherry both froze in their cushion-fight, and peered around Ember’s armchair.
“Holy shit!” Ember nearly fell out of her chair, and Sherry leaped to her feet.
Raphael was standing right behind the armchair, his head tilted quizzically as he stared at them, as if he couldn’t understand their reactions. He was wearing a shirt this time, and his long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. The white linen shirt hung off him, long down to his hips. The neck dipped in a wide ‘V’ to the centre of his chest, showing off the broadness of his shoulders, and the defined curve of his collarbones. He didn’t seem to take offence at Ember’s blasphemy. She realised only a beat too late that she should really choose her words more carefully around this guy. Offending him could mean getting deep fried with angel-fire, whether she was the saviour or humanity or not.
“What the he— I mean, how did you get in here?” she blurted, wide-eyed. Surely nobody had just let him in?
“Through the power of angelic transportation,” Raz answered, with a perfectly straight face.
