by L. P. Maxa
He rubbed a towel through his hair, put on some clean clothes, and rejoined her in the living area. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
The table was loaded with pancakes, bacon, eggs, hash browns, orange juice, and a pot of coffee. Two plates and cups waited.
She saw his hesitation. “I know it’s a lot, but you had everything, and I made a judgment call. I figured with your powers you probably need a ton of calories. Besides, you’re not a small man.”
One side of his mouth curled up in an appreciative grin. He hadn’t had anyone take care of him like this since his mother. Not that Amelia remotely reminded him of his mother. “This is fantastic.”
“I also figured that you can wrap any leftovers in a tortilla and have breakfast burritos, or stuff the extra pancakes tomorrow.”
“No argument here.”
“And I’m joining you, even though I don’t usually eat before I run. That’s the price of this meal.”
“Absolutely.” He crossed to the table and took a seat.
She sat in the chair beside him, and Chaos sat between them, glancing from one to the other with the occasional eye to the floor in case something was dropped.
For a few minutes, silence reigned, with the exception of forks clinking against plates or dishes knocking on the table. Finally, Roman broke the heavy quiet with a sigh. “This is wonderful.”
“Yeah, well, don’t expect it too often. I did this because I felt sorry for you. And you looked terrible.” She took a sip of coffee.
“So you’ve said. How do I look now?” He posed his hands in comical imitation of a fashion model.
She laughed. “You still have dark circles under your eyes, but better. What is so important that you can’t delay it until after you’ve napped?”
He paused. “My client’s wife is pregnant, and I promised them a cradle. She’s due any day now.”
“But the baby isn’t born yet.”
“No, but I set myself a deadline. That was yesterday. It’s almost finished.”
She leveled her gaze at him. “I get it. You don’t want to disappoint. But seriously, if you finish it tomorrow, they’ll still get it in time. Even if she has the baby today, they can live without it for two days. It isn’t worth the risk of hurting yourself. You have some serious tools back there.”
He drew in a deep breath. “You’re right.”
“Thank God, because I don’t think I could have tied you up by myself.” She shot him a smile. “Let’s clean this up, and get you to bed. I’ll take Chaos for the day, so you don’t have to worry about him.”
He cocked his head at her. “Why are you doing this?”
Her lips pursed. “Because despite your bad manners the other day, and despite my better judgment, I think you’re a good guy and I like you.” She pushed back from the table and loaded her arms with plates. “Now let’s get to work.”
Together they cleared the table and packed away the leftover food. She rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher while he wiped down the table and stovetop.
She was right. He was tired, and his full stomach made gave him a feeling of contentedness that made his eyes droopy. Caffeine wouldn’t overcome this lethargy.
“Thank you for this,” he said.
“My pleasure.” She clipped the leash to Chaos’s collar. The dog started stamping his front paws in anticipation.
Roman laid a hand on her shoulder. “No, seriously. After the way I treated you the other day, you didn’t have to be so kind.”
Her smile flashed into his eyes. “Let’s say I have a soft spot for big guys who like dogs.”
He couldn’t turn away. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth, and her smell intoxicated him. She exuded joie de vivre, and her spirit drew him like a magnet. He leaned closer toward her.
She closed the gap by standing on her tiptoes. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him, claiming her lips as the best dessert a man could want. Her lips molded to his and she shared her exuberance.
His mind flew. His soul danced, and his nerves tingled and sparked like fireworks on the fourth of July. The fire he’d banked in his gut roared to life, and he welcomed the heat that had always been a part of him.
Oh hell. The fire.
He pushed her away from him. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Amelia looked up at him, brows drawn together, head tilted to the side. “I’m fine. You didn’t do anything. I kissed you. And I was liking it.”
He examined her arms where he had held her, frantically looking for blisters or red marks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m sorry if my kissing you did that. I don’t know whether to be proud of your reaction or insulted.”
He ignored her jibe. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t injured. His fingers still glowed red from the heat. He hid them behind his back, even if he couldn’t hide the red flush he knew colored his skin elsewhere. “No. It was…great. But I can’t keep doing this.”
“You are not making sense. I think you’re more tired than you know. I’ll take Chaos now, and you get some sleep. We’ll be back this afternoon. We can talk about kissing then.” She winked and walked out the door.
For a moment he stared after her, then shook his head. She was right again. Nothing made sense. How was she not hurt? Had he controlled his reaction? He’d only had two days with Mal. There’s no way he’d learned that much in such a short time.
His head spun as much from the feel of her lips and her tongue in his mouth as from the questions in his mind. Sleep first, then deal with life. He was no use to anyone in this state.
He couldn’t risk holding the railing as he climbed the stairs. His emotional state was keeping the fire too close to the surface.
Maybe he should rethink having a house made entirely of wood.
THE CRISIS
Amelia was having a good day. First the kiss in the morning, then a great run. And now an ice cream in the park. The afternoon sun was shining, kids were laughing and playing on the playground equipment, and parents hovered nearby with picnic baskets, blankets, and books. She’d rekindled friendships with folks who lived in Mystic and she got to see once or twice a year. And she had a dog that was a lovable goofball at her side. Chaos gazed at the ice cream cone lovingly, hoping for drips.
The ice cream was delicious. She could taste the fresh blackberries and vanilla used in making it. Good thing Nick’s Ice Cream Shoppe wasn’t located in Denver. Nick would give her store real competition. She sent a text to Roman telling him where they were, then strolled around enjoying the beautiful day.
To her surprise, Roman stepped out of a car that had pulled into a spot by the park. He smiled and waved at her, then reached in to get something.
Amelia turned to head in that direction, but Chaos didn’t follow. He stood planted at the end of his leash. She couldn’t budge him—he was simply too big. She was about to scold him, but she noticed his hackles rose, and his attention riveted on the trees at the edge of the park. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
“What is it, boy?” She scrutinized the copse but couldn’t see anything.
As if cued by Chaos’s growl, Mal and a tall man ran into the park at the far end. She recognized him as Trask Sinclair, a well-known novelist who had moved to Mystic about a year ago. She hadn’t met him yet, but she’d heard he had the ability to communicate with animals. That would be an interesting power. However, neither looked happy.
Chaos charged on the end of the leash and tugged it straight from her hands. The dog dashed across the grass.
“Chaos,” she yelled and started after him.
At that moment, a bear emerged from between the trees.
Roman reached her side and shouted, “No. Chaos. Come back.”
As if in slow motion, Amelia watched the scene unfurl. Parents ran for their children. Roman started after Chaos. Mal and Trask were trying to reach the bear. She was sure people were shouting and eve
n screaming, but it seemed that all sounds were muffled somehow. The surreal quality of her perception kept her frozen to her spot. Then she moved.
She ran after Roman. “Roman, don’t. You can’t fight a bear.”
Chaos had stopped in front of the beast and barked wildly. The bear hesitated then rose on its hindquarters. Chaos circled the creature, baying the whole time.
The bear roared and Chaos lunged. With a single sweep of its paw, the bear scored three gashes into Chaos’s side. The dog yelped, then collapsed to the ground.
The bear dropped to his front feet and took a step toward the dog.
“No,” Roman cried. He waved his arms, and flames engulfed him. From the top of his head to his feet, fire consumed him. Tongues of fire flared from his hands. His shirt and shoes disappeared into ash. His trousers wouldn’t last much longer.
The bear stepped back, then turned his attention to Mal and Trask. Trask stared at the bear, who then moved farther away from Chaos and Roman.
Amelia reached Roman, who glowed incandescent, and ignited her power.
Ignite was a funny word to use. It was meant to set fire, but Amelia didn’t use fire. Her eyes glowed bluer, and her breath appeared as condensation in the warm air. Her hair no longer moved, but hung rigid from her scalp. Her fingers appeared white.
She touched Roman’s arm, and the flames there died. “Roman, you can’t help Chaos like this.” She slid one hand down his arm and stroked his chest with the other. The fire vanished.
He stared at her. “How are you doing this?”
“Ice. That’s my power.” She reached up and smoothed his hair, extinguishing the blaze there. She took his hand, and it returned to its normal color. “Come on. We have to get Chaos to the vet’s.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw the bear lie down and Trask approach it, but she didn’t care. She needed something to wrap around Chaos. She ran for one of the abandoned picnic blankets and returned to Roman.
Roman knelt by Chaos and stroked the dog’s head. Chaos whimpered but licked Roman’s hand whenever it came near his mouth even though Roman’s fingers still smoked.
“Here.” She draped the blanket over the dog’s wounds. “The vet is the next street over. Good thing Mystic is a small town. But I can’t carry him. He’s too big. Do you think you can manage without setting the blanket on fire?”
Roman nodded and scooped up Chaos. The dog yelped. Roman winced, but he cradled the animal to him. “I know where it is.” As gently as he could, he ran toward the vet’s.
Amelia drew in a deep breath, blinked back her tears, and followed.
###
Roman paced back and forth, taking in deep breaths, then letting them out slowly. The gray walls and stone floor of the vet’s office was supposed to be soothing, but he could feel the fire within struggling to get out. He couldn’t release it here. He wouldn’t release it here. He hoped. There were too many people and too many chairs.
Amelia stood and took his hand. His skin cooled. She stroked his cheek, and he leaned into her palm, enjoying the chill of her touch. “Come sit down. You’ll tear yourself in two if you keep this up.”
“I might burn the chair.”
“You won’t, I promise.”
“The ice.” He took one last deep breath and sat beside her. He buried his head in his hands.
She stroked the back of his neck.
The fire raged within him. He’d failed Chaos, and once again unleashed the inferno in public. “Was anyone hurt?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The fire. Were they able to contain it?”
She looked at him, puzzled. “There was no fire. Well, except for you. But nothing burned.”
“The last time I lost control in town, I burned down the Warehouse.”
“Ohhh. That was why they rebuilt it and modernized it.”
He dropped his head into his hands again. “Yeah. And I nearly killed a kid who was playing nearby.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, but I nearly did. I’m dangerous, despite what Mal thinks.”
“You’re also a thrawn, pig-headed, obstinate bugger.” Mal walked through the door and strolled over to them. “You learned how to control the fire on yer own. If you hadna, you wouldna be able to live in that wooden house you hide in. Ye need a wee tweaking, that’s all.”
Amelia sat up. “Not now, Mal. Can’t you see we’re upset and waiting for word on Chaos?”
“Of course now.” Mal punched Roman in the chest with his paw. “Why do you think I gave you that dog? I needed to show you that you didna need to fear your emotions.”
The fire swelled in Roman’s gut. “Did you arrange the bear attack too?”
Mal drew back. “Dunna be daft. I wouldna hurt the poor dumb beast.”
Trask Sinclair stood in the entry. “The bear was injured. That’s why he came into town. He couldn’t hunt, and he was looking for food. We tranquilized him, and he’s on his way to a wildlife rehab center.” He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Trask Sinclair.”
Roman looked at the extended hand and took it. “Roman Innis.”
“I know. I love your work.” Trask smiled at Amelia. “And you’re…?”
“Amelia Brent. And I love your work.”
“Thanks. It never gets old to hear that.” Trask canted his head toward the back room as if listening to something. “If it helps, he’s sleeping peacefully.”
Roman looked at him. “How do you know?”
“I can understand animals. If I had gotten to the park a few minutes sooner, I would have been able to prevent the attack. Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Roman shook his head.
“Exactly. It’s no’ his fault any more than it was your fault that day.” Mal snorted. “I was the one who was so sure I could contain the flames. In any case, we have a lovely new Warehouse that you canna burn down.”
The vet came through the surgery doors.
A wave of heat flowed through and over Roman. Trask took a step back, and Amelia grabbed Roman’s hand and squeezed.
He swallowed hard and tamped down the inner flames.
The vet smiled. “He’s stable. The wounds were bad, but I was able to stitch him up. I want to keep him overnight, but there’s no reason to think he won’t fully recover.”
Amelia threw her arms around Roman and kissed him, straight on the mouth. The fire erupted, but she didn’t back away. In fact steam rose between them. He clasped her to him and kissed her back.
“Ah-hem.” Mal voice broke their embrace.
Amelia’s eyes sparkled a deeper icy blue. And Roman wasn’t smoking.
“See? Dinna I tell you you could control it. Save me from Scotsmen and Greek gods. I expect to see you tomorrow at the Warehouse before ya pick up the beast.” Mal walked to the clinic door, then stopped. “I canna open this door by myself, you know.”
“Allow me.” Trask pushed the door open and Mal left the building, tail high, nose in the air. Trask looked back at Roman. “If you’d like, I can come by tomorrow and let you know what your dog is thinking before you take him home. Give me a call if you want. I’m in the book.”
Roman nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
Trask waved and left.
When they were alone, she pulled on one of Roman’s belt loops. “I have to ask. Why didn’t your pants burn?”
“Special material. I have them custom made. I don’t want to offend anyone in case I lose control.” Roman scrutinized her. “So, ice, huh?”
She smiled. “Yeah. Pretty ironic. Us being neighbors and such.”
No wonder he hadn’t burned her when he kissed her this morning. “You have awesome control.”
“It wasn’t easy at first. Mal gave me lessons when I was a kid, and when adolescence hit, the lessons grew stricter and more difficult. I once froze an entire lake in July. Luckily, my parents could cope.”
“Were they Faculty?”
“Yes, but they we
ren’t called often. My mom can scent things, and my father can focus rain to fall on a particular spot. Saved us a little money on umbrellas.” She shrugged. “Frankly, I’m not that useful either, although everyone wants me to come to their margarita parties.” She produced a slushy snowball in her hand and placed it into his palm. It sizzled into steam.
He chuckled.
“And I have to admit it helps in my ice cream business. What about you?” she asked.
“I don’t have control all the time. Whenever my emotions spike, I lose it.”
“That’s what Mal meant by tweaking.” She stroked his arm. “How did your parents take it?”
“My mom was mortal.”
“Mortal?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“I lived with her in Scotland until she died when I was ten. Then my father came and brought me to a Greek island. I had tutors, centaurs mostly, but there weren’t many people, and with all the volcanic activity on the island, my dad didn’t think my powers needed curbing.”
Amelia furrowed her brows. “Wait. Who is your father?”
He looked at her sideways. “Hephaestus.”
“As in the god of volcanoes?”
“Same guy.”
“So you’re like a…a…”
“Demigod. Yeah.”
“You’re immortal?”
“No, but I age slowly. Would you believe I’m sixty-five?”
“Holy crap.” She jerked back from him.
He laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m thirty-one. My mother didn’t let Dad give me ambrosia, and after she died, he respected her wishes.”
“Still, your father is a Greek god.”
“And Roman too. Thus my name. Of course, the Romans called him Vulcan. Now that would have been a stupid name.”
“That explains your size and your powers.”
“Yeah, son of the god of fire. And volcanoes. And blacksmiths.”
“But you make furniture. Out of wood.”
“You’ve never heard of teenage rebellion? But I’m a craftsman, and Dad approves of that.”
“So, how did you end up here?”
“Mal came to the island when I was twenty-one. He convinced my father that I needed to be in society. He brought me here, but the first time he tried to see what my powers were, the Warehouse exploded.”
