Wishes to Burn

by Ellabee Andrews

  As he walks up the stairs, I let my gaze take in his long, muscular legs, and his broad shoulders, feeling regions lower than my stomach tighten as I enjoy how well fitting his jeans are. The wood groans and dips beneath his large frame and I worry that it won't hold him, but it stops once he reaches the door, and I release my held breath.

  I cringe at the shrill squeak as he opens up the screen door, yet there's nothing to do until it's as wide as it will go. With the horrible sound over, he lifts his hand to knock, but it swings inward before he can, revealing a petite red-haired woman with generous curves. She doesn't look much older than me, but as her eyes drink in Maksim, lingering at his waist, I have to clamp down on the insane urge to fly up there and wrap around him in some primal display of possession.

  “Well, aren’t you one tall drink of water. When uncle told me to fix the place up for some guests, he forgot to mention how handsome you are. If you say you enjoy long walks on the beach, I may just let you propose to me right here and now,” the woman says, her deep southern drawl doing nothing to endear her to me.

  Shoulders stiffening, Maksim glances down at his new admirer for only a second before turning and raising his hand, moving it toward himself. I go to him without question, noting the small frown that tugs at the stranger’s lips when I arrive at Maksim’s side.

  “Hi there, I’m Rhiannon Tansy. We were told the caretaker would greet us here. We really appreciate you doing so. It’s been a long day, and I know we’re all looking forward to getting some rest.” I greet her more polite than I want to be, but I try not to let on how my heart rate has quickened. Adrenaline is coursing through me at the obvious way she is flirting with Maksim, but I tamp down on my baser, more aggressive, urges.

  I remind myself that she doesn’t know how I feel about Maksim. How I dream about his whiskey eyes and fantasize about if everything is as equally hot to the touch. No, she doesn’t know, and neither does Maksim. Despite how close we’ve grown, anything more than a hug has eluded us.

  “Bless your heart! Y’all have had a long day, and look at me, out here going on about how handsome your friend here is. Please excuse my poor manners. I can see that y’all could do with some freshening up to put you back to rights. Come on now, right this way.” She waves her hands for us to follow her, but her eyes linger on Maksim. Yet, as I go to pass, I notice the small smile that tugs at the corner of her lips aimed in my direction.

  She may have apologized, but at the same time, I get the distinct impression that she isn’t apologizing at all. Though the words are friendly, her tone and the look she gives me says otherwise.

  Entering into the front door, I'm pleased to find that, though dated, the inside is in much better condition than what can be seen outside. There's a modest sized living room with two large blue couches occupying most of the space, and further down the hall, I spy the shine of the steel appliances of the kitchen. My nose wrinkles as I hope that one of the others know how to cook. Me? I burn boiling water.

  "There's no internet connection out here, but my uncle stocked the fridge and pantry for you, and if you need something, town is only five miles out. It may not be big, but you should be able to find everything you need there," the woman says, still not introducing herself, and turns her attention back to where Maksim stands beside an unlit fireplace. She takes a small step in his direction, hips swaying more than one step requires. "And if for some reason you can't find what you need there, I'm just a call away. I'll make sure to leave my number by the door. It doesn't matter what time of day, just ask for Candy. I'm at your disposal." She flicks her long red hair over her shoulder, and I hear a snort come from Satine.

  Maksim has remained quiet during her flirting, but when she moves closer to him, his face darkens and his eyes narrow on her. Her breath catches as the beast, the part of himself he fights to control, shines through. “That won’t be necessary. You’ll find that we’re quite resourceful and can take care of ourselves,” he says cooly before turning and making his way down the hall toward the kitchen.

  After sharing a glance, Gavril and Declan follow, presumably to raid the fridge, but Satine steps up beside me and places her arm around my waist. The movement draws Candy’s attention and her face turns a crimson color as she stares at us with pursed lips.

  “So, Candy, I think that is all we need this evening. We’ve all had a long day, and I think I speak for us all when I say that we just want to get out of these travel clothes and relax. If we think of anything, we’ll give you a shout, but I’m sure we’ll be able to keep each other entertained.”

  Satine is able to convey snark in a friendly tone that I could never accomplish, and though she doesn’t mention Candy’s stare, I don’t miss the flash of anger in her eyes. With Maksim gone, and Satine’s arm still wrapped around my waist, her hand drawing small circles on my side, Candy doesn’t seem inclined to stick around any longer. She just shoots one last glance toward the kitchen, perhaps to catch a glimpse of Maksim, before she gives a tight smile.

  “Of course. I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice day,” she says, words stilted but polite, and walks out the front door, the screech of the screen door following her out.

  “I’ve got a feeling that won’t be the last we see of dear, sweet, Candy,” Satine says sarcastically, letting go of me to grab her bag, but I don’t laugh.

  Unlike Satine, this is my first time really dealing with the prejudice of others at two women being so close. It bothers me, and I don’t understand how Satine can be so cool about it. I don’t want to let one close-minded individual ruin my summer break, as I have big plans, but I can’t help the tiny voice that urges me to go outside and give Candy a piece of my mind. Who is she to judge us?

  I must not do a good job of keeping these turbulent thoughts from showing on my face, because Satine walks back over to me, places her hand on my cheek, and makes sure I look deep into her chocolate eyes.

  “Spill it,” she orders, and I sigh. She doesn’t need to explain what she means, and I don’t try to pretend everything is fine. The demand is clear in the way she holds my gaze without flinching, and I know there’s no getting around talking about it. Not when she is standing before me like she can wait all day. Resigned to the upcoming conversation, I take a deep breath, gather my thoughts, and lay it all out there.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” I ask the most pressing question first. The one that I truly want to know the answer to because I can’t understand how it couldn’t. Just dealing with Candy’s condemning looks for a few minutes had tested my restraint, and somehow, Satine has been able to deal with this for years.

  Lifting a brow, Satine absently brushes one of my braids over my shoulder. “Does what bother me, Rhia?”

  My body begins to respond without my telling it to, my mind going blank beneath her touch, but I stop myself when I realize what I’m doing. I have questions, and getting too close to Satine will only distract me. “Doesn’t it bother you when people just automatically judge you like that? You seem so cool about it, but I want to go out there and throat punch her,” I admit, not bothering to censor my feelings, and I watch Satine for her reaction.

  With a sigh, she drops her hand from where she's been holding a braid, before going and sitting on the large sofa. She looks so small against the large cushions. "Honestly, Rhia? It doesn't bother me. Not anymore. Throughout my life, I've been judged. People hated me for being a succubus. Women hated me because their men wanted me. Men hated me because they couldn't have me. And those small-minded individuals who spout of fire and brimstone, while condemning me for something I have no choice over, hated me too. All I've known is hate for what I am, and eventually, I just stopped giving a damn what they thought. Because despite all that hate, I found a small kernel of love for myself, and through years of standing up for what I believe in and being true to myself, that kernel has grown. Do I wish it were easier? That people weren't judgmental asshats that believe love has an assigned gender? Fuck yeah! But I'm not going to let
that person break me. Let any person break me. I am a woman, and I know my worth. And that, Rhia, is something no amount of judgment can take away." Her voice is strong as she speaks, and there's a determined glint in her eye that makes me believe she can do anything.

  Seeing her like this gives me a warm feeling in my heart. Pride, and dare I say, love for her, at that moment fills me. With these emotions riding me, I don't hesitate to walk over, sink down next to her, and pull her into a hug.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like, being judged for who you’re attracted to, but I understand being condemned for your nature. Growing up we lived in a pretty small town. Not many other supes around, and you know how vicious children can be. The bad part is, they were only repeating the behavior of their parents, and they were even worse,” I tell her, wanting her to know I understand, at least some of what she went through.

  She takes my hand in hers, her slim fingers sliding through mine, and we stay that way, with her head leaning on my shoulder until the guys join us a while later. Declan looks as if he’s just stepped out of the shower as water still drips from the ends of his red hair, while Gavril’s looks adorably rumpled from sleep. The blanket he must have been sleeping on has left creases in his face, and his hair sticks up at odd angles.

  When he sees us sitting on the couch, he plops down onto the cushion beside me, sandwiching me between him and Satine, and lays his head on my lap.

  “Didn’t you just wake up from a nap?” Satine asks, laughing at the triangular indentations that cross over his right cheek, while I absentmindedly run my fingers through his mussed hair.

  I don’t hear what he says with his voice muffled as he speaks into my shirt, tickling my stomach, and I turn my attention to where Declan has claimed a seat on the other couch. He’s staring at his phone with his brow furrowed, and when he catches me looking, he gives a tight smile before putting it down beside him.

  “Barely any service here. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” he says, and I lift my eyes from where his phone rests. The screen keeps lighting up from a notification, but I don’t mention it. If he has something to tell me, he will. Even if my stomach clenches up in suspicion about who he might be talking to.

  "I don't know. It might be nice to get away from technology for a bit. I'm going to miss playing on my Instatwit though." I joke to try and push away my concerns. I had decided to forgive him, and that meant giving him the opportunity to earn back my trust. Questioning his every move wouldn't do that, so I use the term an instructor had used months before, and it causes Gavril to laugh out loud. He's laughing so hard, it shakes the couch, and I can't help but join him. Gavril had been in class that day and knows exactly what I'm talking about.

  Brows raised and looking at us as if we've grown two heads, Declan tilts his head to the side and then focuses on Satine. "I feel like we're on the outside of some inside joke right now," he says, and I try to get myself under control. It's not easy though, not while Gavril still chuckles to himself.

  Smiling at our display, Satine only shrugs her shoulder. “I think you may be right. I don’t think I’ve heard of this ‘Instatwit’ before,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine as she looks back and forth between me and Gavril.

  I open my mouth to explain, but Maksim chooses that moment to walk into the room, and the words die on my lips.Hot damn! I think and know that the rising temperature has nothing to do with his natural body heat, and everything to do with how hot he looks standing there in his tight, dark red t-shirt, an apron reading ‘kiss the cook’, and snug fitting blue jeans.

  Not appearing concerned about having all our attention centered on him, mine in lust, while the others stare in disbelief, he doesn’t even twitch under the weight of our combined stares.

  "Dinner's ready, so come eat," he orders without blinking. With his message delivered, he turns around without saying anything else and walks away.

  The view is as nice going as it is coming, and I watch with what I’m sure is a line of drool running down my face. Suddenly starving, I carefully remove Gavril’s head from my lap and follow like a lamb to slaughter, wishing so much that I could do as the apron says. As I go, I mentally add domestic abilities to the already long list of attributes that I find attractive about Maksim, and I can’t help but imagine another type of meat I’d like to sink my teeth into.

  Burn Out

  "Dude, where the hell did you learn to cook like that? You know what? Forget that part. I want to know why you've been holding out on us," Gavril demands, hands resting on his extended stomach as he leans back in his chair, and I'm surprised he hasn't passed out yet. He'd eaten three large steaks, adding potato and carrots to each helping, and had devoured it all.

  Grunting from his seat, Maksim lays his fork down after finishing his own seconds. Once he does, he stares down at his hands as if there’s something interesting about them. “That’s a story for another day. If one of you could handle cleanup, that would be great. I think I’m going to get some rest,” Maksim replies, voice quiet and leaving us all at the table, bewildered by his sudden change in attitude.

  At a loss for words, I look around at the others and find them just as speechless. Dinner had been delicious, and we’d all joked and laughed as we enjoyed our time together. Maksim’s sudden change has come out of nowhere and left us all looking confused.

  “Hey, Rhia, why don’t you let us take care of this, and you can go ahead and relax,” Satine says, cutting her eyes to the side, and I follow them to see they’re pointing in the direction Maksim went.

  “Hey! I want to relax, too. I’ll go with Rhia. You two can handle cleanup,” Declan says from his spot, rising and reaching a hand out for me to take.

  Before I can refuse, Gavril steps forward and speaks quietly into Declan’s ear. Whatever he says seems to change Declan’s mind, and he drops his hand before grabbing the dishes off the table.

  "You know what? I think I'm going to stick around and help after all. Besides, it's good for a future king to spend time with his subjects doing mundane things. Keeps us levelheaded. You go on, Rhia. We've got this," he adds and turns his back to me as he moves toward the sink, barely dodging the punch Gavril aims at his shoulder.

  Looking between them all, it's easy to guess what they're doing. They want me to go talk to Maksim, so I rise from my seat with a soft smile. I had wanted to go after him as soon as he left, but guilt over leaving the cleanup for them held me back. Knowing that they want me to go too, makes it easier to walk away in search of Maksim.

  It takes a few minutes to find him, and when I do, it’s after I have checked all the rooms inside the house.

  Opening up the front door, surprised at how quiet the old springs on the screen door swing open, I see his large frame sitting at the edge of the wooden porch, long legs hanging off the side as he leans back and stares out at the distant mountains. It’s grown dark, but there’s just enough light from the moon to make out their silhouette.

  “Come sit down, Rhia. No use in just standing there,” he says, and I wonder how he knew it was me. Walking over and sitting down, I shiver a little at how the evening breeze tickles my wings.

  “Are you cold?” he asks, scooting in closer, and my body warms at his proximity, only partially due to his body heat.

  Damn, she’s beautiful.

  “What?” I ask, disbelieving his words, but he only raises a brow at me.

  “I didn’t say anything. Everything, okay?” he asks, and I realize it had been his thoughts I heard. Not ready to have that particular conversation yet, I change the subject.

  “Dinner was delicious, by the way. I didn’t really get a chance to thank you for it, you know, before…”

  “Before I left? I guess I should explain myself,” he says, sounding as if that’s the last thing he really wants to do. Not wanting to push him, I reach down and grab his hand.

  "Hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I just w
anted you to know that I enjoyed it. I'd cook, but I don't feel like getting food poisoning," I joke, hoping to wipe the distant look from his eyes, but he only sits up straighter and turns so that he is partially facing me, our legs brushing against each other.

  "No, I want to tell you. You're probably the first person I've ever wanted to. It's just such a new concept that I'm not really sure where to start," he admits and looks down at our joined hands.

  Leaning forward so that I’m in his field of vision, I soften my expression, hoping to convey a look of understanding. “Just start at the beginning,” I say, and he nods his head once and looks back out toward those distant mountains.

  “As a cherufe, happy families are not really lining up to welcome you into their homes. I’m sure that, had it not been for my sizeable inheritance and stipend set up for my caretakers, I would have been abandoned when I turned five and my power to shift manifested.

  “I don’t blame any of the families that returned me to the lawyer that was set up to handle my affairs because my kind was never meant to be contained, to live a civilized lifestyle, as we burn as hot and wild as the flame.” He pauses, his thumb stroking over my wrist, but with the way he’s staring off, I wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it. I sense he’s not finished, so I remain quiet.

  "Eventually, the council intervened and declared me a ward of theirs. I was fostered within one private academy after the next until finally, I started Aradia. During the breaks, when most of the staff would return home, only a few would be left for basic maintenance, upkeep, and to keep a loose watch over me. But I had no use or want to even try and get close to any more people that would inevitably discover my true nature and run away."

  My heart breaks as I listen to his story of what must have been a lonely childhood, and I can’t stop myself from moving in closer, hoping that being here for him now will somehow magically erase the years he’d had no one. A ridiculous thought, but I try it all the same.