by Hays, Casey
Frankie doesn’t flinch. “That’s understandable.”
“As far as Willow Springs is concerned,” Nancy concludes. “He never existed.”
“Do you think he improved?” Frankie asks.
Nancy wastes no time shaking her head. “He was never going to get better. Your father became his overseeing doctor when he arrived. His diagnosis was that the boy would live his life in solitary confinement.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Locked away for life? In solitary? That’s no way for anyone to live. And I don’t know this boy at all, but when I think of it, I kind of want to cry.
“We kept him a secret,” Nancy continues. “His parents were very private. If the authorities ever learned of his existence—” She breaks off and gives us a frightened blink. “Well, the last thing any of us wanted was to see him turned into a lab rat.”
We’re all silent for a beat. Nancy sighs—one of those long sighs that includes a barrage of memories cascading down on her like a torrential rainstorm.
“His parents loved him very much.” She says this randomly, wiping her eye. “It was evident. I just wish I knew what had become of him. If he’s safe.”
Frankie skims through her list of questions. I study the nurse. She’s lost inside her own thoughts, reliving all the years she spent treating a winged boy who didn’t have a hope of ever leading a normal life. She really did care for him; I see that. He’s all grown up now wherever they’re keeping him, and he’s still as warped as he was when he left this place at fifteen. It’s just… it’s sad. And it makes me wonder…
“Well,” Frankie begins. “I think that—”
“Could you ever feel him?”
My question draws both sets of eyes and an awkward moment of silence.
“Feel him?” Nancy finally asks.
“Yeah,” I nod. “Like his emotions. Were you ever able to sense what he was feeling? You know, if he was sad or angry? Or happy.”
“Interesting concept.” Frankie peers at me. “Did you find something in our research material?”
I can’t look at her as the lie forms. “Yeah. I think so.” I focus on Nancy.
“I don’t recall him being able to transfer his feelings,” Nancy says. She folds her fingers together on her desk.
“Okay.” I hug my bag. “Just wondering.”
I only half listen to the farewells as Nancy guides us back to the lobby where Frankie promises once again to keep all information general and anonymous. My mind works, recalling everything that was said behind closed doors. I come to a stark conclusion: Nancy may know a lot about Ademov and the Vatra u Krvi, and she may be an expert in unusual phenomenon, but honestly, all of her knowledge is based on theories. She has no idea what a real Fireblood is. This boy—he was not a true representation.
For the most part, this makes me feel better. Frankie’s only evidence is an old crate in her basement, a few very fuzzy pictures, and the testimony of a nurse she can only quote anonymously who shared about a boy who doesn’t seem to exist anymore. It’s all good.
“Okay, spill it, Jude.” Frankie tackles me as soon as we exit the building.
“Spill what?”
“Firebloods can transfer emotions? What made you form this idea?”
“I don’t know,” I defend. I open the passenger door and climb in. “I’m sure I saw it somewhere in all that mess.”
Or experienced it. I’ll keep that to myself.
“Well, I’ve read through all of it—three times. I’ve never seen any such thing mentioned.” She starts the car and reverses.
“I must have read it somewhere. How else could I have thought to ask the question?” I gather all my hair into my fist and tie it with a hairband just before she turns onto the interstate.
“I thought you were going to keep your mouth shut.”
I grin at her. “Admit it. I asked a few questions that weren’t even on your list.”
She can’t argue, and she hates it. It makes her feel unprepared. She grips the steering wheel and frowns at the road. I check my cell.
HEY BEAUTIFUL…
I smile.
WE’RE EATING AT THE NEST WITH JONAS AND DEVAN. 6:00. WILL YOU BE HOME?
YES
OKAY. PICK YOU UP. <3
“All in all, today was very productive, don’t you think?” Frankie hollers over the wind and checks her side mirror before changing lanes.
“Yes.” I stuff my phone between my knees.
“I think we have enough to get started on the research paper.”
I nod, grabbing at a blowing piece of my hair and tucking it behind my ear.
“Can you believe it, Jude? We have proof from an eyewitness of the existence of at least one Fireblood. This is colossal.”
“It sure is.”
I pick up my phone, reread Kane’s text, and break into a smile.
It sure is.
Twenty-five
Okay… so here goes the biggest understatement of the century: A lot has changed since our pancake breakfast last Saturday.
At first glance, maybe you wouldn’t notice. I mean, the seat at our booth is still ripped, even though someone did go to the trouble of duct taping it up good. The place smells the same. Looks the same. A few of the regulars lean over their plates, talking quietly. Jonas and Devan snuggled together in the corner booth bring nothing new to the scene. But delve beneath the surface just a little deeper, and everything is different.
Charli gives Kane and me a half-smiling glance when we push through the jingling door. Why, you ask? She’s seen us enter a hundred times or more. We, like everything else in this diner, are not so different at first glance. But give us a second glance, and you’ll catch one tiny detail you may have missed: my fingers hooked with his.
I toss Charli a tentative wave. She grins and turns toward the kitchen as Kane tows me toward our booth and slides into the empty spot across from our friends, pulling me in after him.
“Did you order yet?” Kane passes me a menu. I study the options, as if I don’t have every item memorized.
“Naw,” Jonas slurps on his straw. “Charli said the special is beef tips.”
“Drenched in that black gravy.” Devan shudders. “I’m having chicken strips.”
“At least the gravy on the chicken strips doesn’t look like something that came out of the sewer,” I say, reaching across Kane to drop the menu in its place. “A burger for me.”
Devan laughs and squeezes a lemon into her tea. I catch Jonas’s eye… and the question in it. Did you tell Kane? I subtly shake my head, and he drops his chin. I toss Kane a sidelong glance. I’ll tell him. Tonight.
“Where’s Frankie?” Devan pours out some salt onto the table and adds the appropriate initials. Another consistent detail.
“She’s working on our project.” I fold my arms over the table’s edge. “I swear, she refuses to take a break. She’s planning to write the entire research paper tonight.”
“And what is your role in this project?” Jonas asks.
I shrug. “Whatever she tells me to do. Which is minimal. She’s kind of a control freak. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Frankie?” Jonas crinkles his nose with his teasing. “Noooooo.”
We all laugh in unison, and it feels good. Devan toys with her straw, the tip of her finger bending and straightening as she flexes it. Her eyes sparkle with a teasing gleam. Uh-oh. That can only mean one thing. She’s going to pry a little.
“So. How are you two lovebirds getting along in your new role?”
Yep. I called it.
A week ago, I would have turned every shade of red and probably kicked her under the table. Not today. Today, I meet Kane’s eyes, looking for the answer to her question. I catch a tiny hint of gold for a split second. He winks, gives me a dimple, and the world just falls into perfect place.
“We’re good,” Kane answers.
You wanna know the best part about his answer? He says it straight to me, not Devan. I bite my
lip to keep my smile from exploding all over my face. He could kiss me right here in front of everyone, and I wouldn’t flinch a muscle in embarrassment. Nope. I’d be pretty proud to claim him.
When I look at Devan, her expression is priceless. I mean, she’s been in love with Jonas for an entire year, but you’d think this was her first encounter with love.
“This is exactly what should have happened, like, years ago.” She tucks her arm through Jonas’s and gives him a little squeeze. “I’m so happy for all of us. Really.”
I couldn’t agree more. Kane drapes his arm around my shoulders, and I lean into the warmth. His wings are here somewhere, hidden in the ephemeral world of the Firebloods, but in my mind, I imagine myself curled up in their shelter. Honestly, I love this secret, and I let my smile break free. I also slip my ring off and slide it into my pocket. Why not?
“Hi kids.” Charli smiles over us like a proud mother, specifically focusing her attention on me. I see the spark in her eye. And… here it comes. “You finally snagged the girl, did you Kane?” She pulls a pen from behind her ear and situates her order pad. “Good job, young man.”
“Come on now, Charli.” He squeezes me. “What did you expect? I only settle for the best.”
“Mm-hmm.” She winks at me, chomps on a piece of gum, and leans in. “I’m glad you didn’t fall for the other one. He doesn’t sit right with me for some reason.”
Kane tenses. “What other one?”
I sink a little lower in my seat.
“Oh, you know. The Irish boy. Reagan or Ryan…”
“Rylin.” Kane’s voice goes completely flat. I don’t even want to look at him, but I do.
“That’s it,” Charli slaps her thigh with her order pad. “Let me tell you, he was laying it on thick the other day. But Jude is a tough one to win over. Well… maybe until now.” She chews and winks… and chews. And I could kill her. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. What’s for dinner?”
We order. She refills Devan’s tea, and the minute she’s gone, I feel it. The atmosphere of our happy, little table shifts into some uneasy, stiff place where nobody knows what to say next. I slide my hand over Kane’s thigh, hoping to reassure him.
“Was she talking about Rylin McDowell?” Jonas asks, and I swivel my head, purse my lips with a raise of my brow. He did not just restart the conversation.
“What other Rylin do you know?” Kane’s breath is hot on my cheek.
“Wait. Didn’t he move to Ireland?” Devan asks.
I sigh. I really don’t want to talk about Rylin tonight. I want to eat with my friends, enjoy a few laughs, and pretend everything is normal for one hour. No such luck.
“Look, it’s no big deal.” My eyes land on Kane’s face. “He’s visiting his aunt for the summer.” I shift my gaze to Devan and then Jonas. “I ran into him at the club the other night and a couple of other times afterwards.”
“Once on your own porch,” Kane reminds me. I stab him with my eyes.
“It’s not like I invited him over. He just showed up.”
“Why?” Devan straightens in her seat, and I cringe. Are we really having this conversation right now?
“He came by to see his old house,” I shrug. “I just happened to be outside. We talked. That’s it.” I look at Kane. “You showed up, and that was it.”
“Sounds pretty innocent to me,” Devan quips. “Until you add Charli’s observation into the mix.”
Really? How many people am I going to have to kill tonight?
“Okay. One more time,” I huff. “It was no big deal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him again?” Kane’s tone makes me stiffen.
“What does it matter?” I squint at him, irritated. “I’m not interested in him.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“What is the point?” I ask.
Jonas and Devan stare at us, eyes glancing back and forth, and I suddenly feel like the main character in a soap opera. We’re about to have our first fight in public in front of our best friends. I pull my hand from Kane’s leg to clench it in my own lap. He presses his lips together.
“I thought we agreed you should stay away from him.”
“Well, I don’t know if we did or not. I can’t recall.”
Kane’s expression doesn’t falter. I glance at Jonas. He lifts an empathetic brow but says nothing. I refocus on Kane.
“Look, I was sitting right over there eating my hamburger and minding my own business when he decided to sit down beside me. I can’t help where people go in a free country.” I toss his arm off my shoulders and readjust my body, angling it away from him. “And you know what? I know you don’t like Rylin, but that doesn’t give you a right to tell me who I can and can’t talk to.”
“I’m just looking out for you, Jude.”
“Well, I don’t need you to look out for me. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” I’m just plain mad. I narrow my eyes straight at him like two bullets ready to fire and throw my final jab. “If you hadn’t been pretending not to exist that day, maybe I wouldn’t have enjoyed a lunch date with another guy.”
And there’s the clench of the jaw I was waiting for. The gold flares up then eases back as he takes a deep breath.
Devan holds up her hands, fingers spread. “What’s happening here? You two are not breaking up, are you?”
“No.”
“No.”
Kane and I say this simultaneously, then capture each other’s eyes… simultaneously. We both sigh.
“We should probably talk about this later,” he says quietly.
“Or never again,” I retort. He tosses me a weak smile and shakes his head.
Devan presses a hand to her heart. “You guys scared me. I have worked too hard trying to convince you to be together to see it fall apart already.”
Jonas laughs, tugging her to him. “Babe, don’t take credit. Then you have to take the blame when they break up.”
“They aren’t breaking up,” she insists, giving Kane a narrow glare before transferring it to me. “Ever.”
Kane weaves his fingers into mine and pulls my hand back into his lap. “Deal.”
“Deal,” I whisper.
Satisfied, and looking exhausted—which is funny considering she hasn’t broken a sweat—Devan falls against the back of the cushioned bench. She takes a long drink of tea as if the whole entire episode completely drained her. Her eyes connect with mine over the top of her glass. She squints and waves a finger at me.
“There’s something in your eye.”
I blink. “Really? Which one?” I dig through my shoulder bag for a mirror.
“The left one.”
Quick as a flash, Kane grabs my wrist, trapping my hand in the depths of my bag. I look at him. The golden flecks flicker erratically.
“What?” I ask.
“Put on your ring.”
I freeze, blink once. There’s an urgency in the unspoken words that pings through my brain. I visualize this horrible scenario where his wings burst open and knock all of us out of the booth, exposing himself to everyone in the Nest, and it’s my fault because I took off my ring. It’s stupid, but the fear that comes with it is so shattering that my fingers are in my pocket before he thinks another thought. And my ring is back in place almost as quickly.
“Maybe you’re getting pink eye.” Devan’s casual voice contrasts with my roiling emotions. “It’s going around. Half the cheerleaders have it, and summer camp starts Monday.”
“Maybe.”
I pinch the stone between my thumb and forefinger. I’m seriously confused. You can bet I no longer have any doubts that this ring is worth a lot more than I thought it was. I see the pattern. Every time I take it off, Kane invades my head, overwhelms my emotions, turns into this ravishingly beautiful being who prevents me from keeping my hands to myself. But there’s more… so much more he isn’t telling me.
I dig my mirror from my bag and examine my eye. Perfectly normal.
&n
bsp; I glance up, catching his eyes. They’re as green as ever. He gives my fingers a quick squeeze.
That’s it. Tonight… we’re going to have a nice, long talk.
***
Devan tries to convince us to go to the club after dinner, but I’m just not feeling it. It’s been another long day in the middle of many long days, and I just want to slip into my pajamas and snuggle up with Kane under a blanket in the den.
I get my wish.
We pop some popcorn, start a movie, and ignore both. Because tangled in each other’s arms and surrounded by the scent of vanilla and wet roses—which is glaringly obvious to me now—we can’t keep our lips away from each other. Or our hands. Or pretty much our entire bodies. Our fight is forgotten, and for a little while, all other distractions ruling our relationship fade into a very fuzzy background that leaves us free to be completely together.
The credits run; I doze on Kane’s bare chest, pinned between him and the sofa, our bodies parallel. He shifts beneath me, scooping me closer.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Mmm-hmm?” Everything feels lazy and wonderful, and honestly, I don’t feel like talking. It can all wait.
“I’m sorry for being such an ass earlier.”
I ease my eyes open. This could be interesting.
“Mmm-hmm.” Silence. I trace a finger across his chest. “So you wanna tell me what your beef is with Rylin?”
I lift my head. He stares at the ceiling, his free arm thrown above us against the armrest.
“You’re jealous of him, and I don’t know why.” I sigh and lay my cheek against him. His heart beats, strong and steady. “I hardly know him.”
His answer is another squeeze. He cups my elbow in his palm. “Have you talked to your mom yet?”
I chew on my lower lip, annoyed at the subject change. “No.”
“You need to.”
I sit straight up. “You know, I’m really tired of hearing you say that.”
He grimaces just a little, enough for me to be reminded once again that he’s keeping something from me. I’m not letting him blow it off this time.
“How about we do this instead.” I narrow my eyes. “You tell me whatever it is that’s on your mind, and we’ll let my mother fill in the blanks.”
