by Casey Hays
With a thoughtful lift of my brow, I halfway check myself before I decide this is the perfect moment to test my new knowledge. Why not? He’s made plenty of moves on me through the years. And now? He’s here; he’s clearly vulnerable, and I feel bold.
Freeing my hand from his, I let my keys crash to the garage floor. His head tilts, just a slight click to the side, his eyes connected. I slowly glide my fingertips up his arms, and his muscles tense. My smile deepens as the gold flecks emerge an inkling.
“What are you doing, Jude?” The question is a sultry murmur, barely audible.
“Shhh. No talking,” I whisper. “I’m testing my research.”
By the time my palms reach his chest and slide upwards to rest against his shoulders, not a speck of green hue is left. His eyes flare once, and settle, swirling in all different shades of orange and gold and even some light reds, and I feel the breath increase in my own lungs. I really don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful. My hands cup his jaw, and I kiss him, hard and deep, parting his lips and pressing in.
His skin burns beneath my touch, a white glow rising off his flesh and brightening the dimming garage. I link my fingers together behind his neck and push into him, chest to chest. His heat scalds me straight through my tee-shirt, but oddly, it doesn’t hurt. It’s a wonderful heat.
A car whizzes past outside, and that’s all it takes to bring Kane to his senses. With a groan, he breaks away from me and dashes for the garage door control button—a streak of white light in shadow. He slams his hand flat against it, and the door slowly descends.
He bends, hands on knees, and gazes at me, his glowing skin slowly fading. His eyes settle into a soft orange, the only light left in the room besides the dim, automatic garage door light above us. Guilt tickles the edges of my conscience. I clench my fists, holding as still as possible until Kane’s soft laugh breaks the tension.
“You really have been doing your homework, haven’t you?”
I relax. “I thought you were mad.”
“Uh… yeah. Something like that?” He straightens. “Not really an anger-provoking move. Let’s just shut the door first next time. Deal?”
I cross my arms, tossing him the most flirtatious smile I can muster. “And who says there’s going to be a next time? My test worked. I don’t need any more proof.”
That’s all it takes to bring him back to me. He sweeps me up, my feet leave the floor, and I hang suspended in his arms, staring into those eyes that burn for me.
“Jude Gallagher,” he whispers. “You’ve always known how to get to me.”
I smile. “It’s always been fun.” I reach up and graze my thumb across his warm cheek. “Isn’t it crazy? I was so worried about this—about us crossing that line. Afraid things would be weird.” I pause, crinkle my nose. “I’m not saying this isn’t weird. It’s just not the weird I expected.”
“I was never worried.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Because we’ve always been good together.”
“We have,” I concede. My fingers travel to his lips. He kisses my fingertips. “But even this… you holding me, kissing me… it’s so, I don’t know… natural. Like we should have touched each other like this a long time ago.”
He tips a brow. “Hey, I was willing.”
“Too willing,” I laugh.
The orange of his eyes deepens, and I can’t keep my lips away from his another minute. Right here in my garage, the VW engine still warm and ticking softly behind us, I let my body sink against him. I allow my mind and heart and soul to give in to every memory I have of Kane and me and the beautiful life we began all those years ago with a red crayon. The white light flares up around us, and our friendship? It’s here—right here, mingled in with the heartbeats and the quivers of excited anticipation and the warmth that has always existed between us.
A warmth that I see with new eyes.
Twenty
The smells of fresh sage and parmesan greet us as we enter the kitchen, reminding me of just how hungry I am. Gema tackles me with one of her boa-constricting hugs and kisses both of my cheeks in her Italian style with tons more gusto than usual. It kind of throws me off guard for a minute. But I know where her enthusiasm comes from. I see the twinkle in her eye.
“Jude.” She drawls my name out in one long syllable and gives me this look. You know, the kind that says she knows all about the little love fest I’ve engaged in with her son. Embarrassing. “I am so happy you decided to join us tonight.” Her eyes go soft as she squeezes my hands. “It must be hard with your mother gone.”
I smile. “Thanks, Gema. I miss her, but she’s finally getting the help she needs. The separation will be worth it.”
“Well, I promised her I’d keep you fed while she’s gone.” She squeezes my fingers and tosses her eyes at Kane, who stands behind me hiding his smile behind a propped fist. “Kane, go find your father. Jude and I need some girl time.”
“O…kay.” He nudges me with his shoulder as he passes. “Don’t let her work you to death.”
I watch him go, a catch in my nerves. It’s not as if I’ve never eaten with the O’Reillys before… or been alone with Gema. I can’t count the number of times she’s fed me. And Jonas for that matter. But the fact that this dinner will be different kind of floats in the air with the smell of the Italian spices. Because I’m not just one of Kane’s buddies tonight, and I’m not just his girlfriend, either. The truth is, I know that Connor and Gema O’Reilly are Firebloods, and this changes the entire dynamics of how we have related to each other for the past twelve years.
I slink out of the purse crossed over my shoulder and drop it on a chair before making my way to the sink to wash my hands. The kitchen is warm with the scent of garlic and fresh bread.
“So.” Gema leans against the island. She lifts a glass of wine to her lips but pauses to finish her sentence. “I can’t help but bring up the little shift in relationship status between you and my son.”
Nothing like getting right to it. I pull off my ring, set it on the edge of the sink, and concentrate on the water running over my hands.
“Yeah,” I say.
I’m nervous. I dry my hands and face her. She reaches into the fridge and hands me a bottle of water. I squeeze it, concentrating on its coolness while she concentrates on me with eyes as green as Kane’s. I suddenly feel the need to say something. To defend myself, I guess.
“Look, I know I’ve been the permanent little girl in your house for as long as I can remember, so you can tell me if this is uncomfortable for you.” I climb onto the stool across from her. “I mean, it’s kind of going to change things, and so I totally understand if—”
“Jude.” I shut my mouth. She lifts one brow, a chiding expression twisting her lips to one side. “I have one thing to say, and we are putting this to rest for good.”
“Okay.” My nerves tingle.
“Not a day has gone by since Kane was ten years old that he didn’t mention your name.” The tiny hint of a smile curves her lips. “So I’ve known for quite a while how important you are to him. As a friend? As something more? It really doesn’t matter, now does it? For him, it changes nothing. And I know him. He will remain devoted to you either way.”
If you hadn’t noticed, Gema isn’t one to mince words.
“Yeah.” I sigh and slump in my seat a little. “Which means it won’t be very fair to him if things don’t work out.”
“Are you saying your friendship is so weak it couldn’t survive a break up?”
I absorb her words.
“I guess that’s what has always scared me,” I shrug.
“What is it that you want, Jude?” Gema turns her back to stir her sauce simmering in a pot. It bubbles up and splatters her hand. She ignores this.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” She returns and slides a cutting board piled with vegetables across the island, handing me a paring knife. “Do you want your life to be laid out like a road map? Do you want to know ever
y bend, every crack in the asphalt, every loose piece of gravel before you get to it?”
I cut into an onion. “That’s not even possible.”
“And yet, that’s exactly what you’re asking for with Kane. I do believe it’s the reason you’ve held him off for so long. You’ve been trying to control your own path.” She downs the last of her wine and refills her glass. “Jude, honey, you know it doesn’t work that way. You’re both young; just enjoy the moment. No matter what happens down the road, you’ll both be fine.”
“Okay.” I smile and dice my onions. Honestly, I like that advice.
“I’m sure you have some questions,” she says. “About us?”
I pause and look at her. Boy, do I have questions, and I almost mention the crate before I think twice. Frankie would murder me for that one, and I haven’t even told Kane about it. I chop away at a carrot, gathering my thoughts.
“Kane’s told me a little,” I admit. “I’ve… seen his eyes. They’re kind of amazing. I guess yours are the same?”
“Pretty much.” Gema sips, then emits a little laugh with a shake of her head. “I just need to say this: Of all the conversations we’ve had, I never thought to be sitting here talking with you about this.”
“I know the feeling,” I say. “But I meant what I said. I’ll keep your secret.”
“I know you will. I never doubted it.”
We have a moment—Gema pursing her lips and nodding, and me, feeling a bond with her that didn’t exist a few, short days ago. I have so many questions that the crate didn’t answer, but I wonder if I should ask them just because she’s offered. What if I give away too much of what I’ve learned? Things even Kane hasn’t told me? I finish chopping one carrot, move on to a cucumber, and ask something safe.
“Do you ever flare?”
She opens the oven and bends to check on the bread. “No.” Straightening, she looks at me. “Well, very rarely. It’s better to keep that under wraps.”
“What does it look like?”
“Bright,” she smiles. “Very bright. And hot.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Not an option.” She unwraps a stick of butter and drops it into a measuring cup. “We both know what Kane had to do to cover his tracks. He will not be flaring again.”
“What about dropping your camouflage? Do you ever do that?”
“Yes. Behind closed doors, and usually only in the bedroom.”
She winks. I shake my head at her boldness. Like I said, Gema doesn’t mince words. I take this opportunity to make a swift subject change.
“Kane can’t compel me.” I rest the edge of the knife against the island. “He doesn’t know why. Do you?”
Gema studies me a long minute, downs the rest of her wine, and turns to stir the sauce before responding.
“Some people… they carry a certain energy that prevents it. From time to time, we come across them.” She tosses me a dimpled smile. “Apparently, you’re one of them.”
“Could you compel me?” I ask.
“Someone can either be compelled, or they can’t. It doesn’t matter which Fireblood attempts it. But you need to understand, Jude. We frown on compelling as much as we do flaring.”
“Oh.” I think of all the times Kane compelled Jonas. Of the times he tried to compel me. Does she know? She keeps talking.
“To compel means to deprive someone of his free will. We don’t use it without just cause. It isn’t a game. This is why Kane’s actions were so detrimental. He compelled Jonas and Frankie while he was flared, which is far worse. He broke two of our most superior rules, which caused a snowball effect of repercussions. Several people had to be compelled to correct the problem.”
I sigh. “That was a nightmare of a day.”
“I know, honey. It’s why Kane came to us so quickly. He was worried about you most.” She reaches across the island and gives my hand a little squeeze. “He regrets it, and he knows how serious his actions were.”
“I know.” I nod. I give her a curious glance. “So how did you fix it? Yesterday at the pool, Jonas and Devan knew who Kane was. They knew we’d been camping but didn’t remember what I remember.”
She refills her wine and leans on her folded forearms, focusing on me. “It’s called redirecting.” Her eyes dance. “Mind invasion.”
I blink. “That sounds awful.”
“It’s awful for everyone involved. But… sometimes it has to be done to protect our identity.”
“How does it work?”
“Well…” She takes a long drink of her wine and sets the glass down with a small clink. “When a person has been compelled so completely, we have to go into their thoughts, read the memory, and recreate the paths so that the memory of an event, such as your camping trip, is whole even with some significant missing parts.”
“So… not everything they remember is true?”
“We try to keep it as genuine as possible. Only a few tiny differences, hardly noticeable. You see, Jude, our goal is not to create a new memory. We just take out the chunks they never should have experienced and add in tiny links to replace them.”
“Wow.” That’s all I say. It’s an incredible reality.
Gema smiles. “You don’t need to worry about it. It’s done, and Kane won’t do it again.”
Her words are starkly definite, but I don’t believe them. Not because she’s lying, but because I know Kane better than she does. He can be impulsive—reckless. But I keep this to myself as I chop the last of the vegetables. Gema opens the fridge and tosses me a head of lettuce.
“Shred that, will you?” She reaches into a cabinet beneath the island and produces a salad bowl. “I need to get the bread.”
With a wink, she lifts her hand. Gradually, it begins to glow from her fingertips to just above her wrist—a white light. I lean over the island to watch as she opens the oven, reaches right in, and pulls out the tray of bread, depositing it on a trivet.
I’ve seen Kane glow; I’ve felt the sting of his heat. But still, a tiny prickling of excitement captures me at the sight of Gema. It makes me a believer all over again.
“Okay. So that’s… awesome.”
Gema laughs. “Oh, the perks. We gotta have some entertainment around here from time to time. Living solely as a human can get a little stifling.”
Her hand fades to its natural bronzed tone. She taps a finger to her lips a moment, thinking.
“I’m glad I get to be myself with you,” she says reaching for my hand again. “And on a personal note, I love seeing my son so happy. Thank you.”
I plant my eyes on her face, my heart fluttering. And honestly, I can’t visualize my life without Kane or his family in it. I tighten my fingers around hers.
“For the record, he’s made me happy since the first day of kindergarten.”
Her smile is a warm breeze, and I catch her scent. Daisies and sunshine. I’ve never really been able to pinpoint it, but tonight, it’s as clear as day. She releases my hand, scoops up my ring where I forgot it by the sink, and circles the island to give me one of her crushing hugs.
I may not be a Fireblood, but thanks to Gema, I feel like a secret agent who’s been given access to classified information. It’s surreal. Quicker than the snap of the fingers, my life with Kane O’Reilly becomes a brand new living, breathing journey.
***
After dinner, Kane and I slip out to the patio. The chiminea burns low, giving enough light for seeing while still keeping things in comfortable shadow. Barefooted, we climb into the round-cushioned, wicker swing, link our ankles, and stare up at the stars. We’re quiet for a while, listening to our matched breathing.
“Is it hard?” I break the silence and readjust my head where it rests against the side of his arm. “Being a Fireblood? Having to live a lie all the time?”
He runs his fingers along my arm and shrugs. “It’s life. I don’t know how to live any differently, so I guess not.”
“But camouflaging,” I press. “
It’s hard work, right?”
He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of my head. “It takes a huge amount of focus. Lots of energy. But I get relief every night.”
I picture him then, spread out on his bed, huge wings falling over the sides of the mattress, snoring. I smile and tuck myself a little closer into his side.
“And us? What will it be like for us since, you know… I’m not like you?”
He edges his arm beneath my shoulders and pulls me in. “You’re mostly like me.”
“Sure.”
I drag out the word; he laughs. I run my finger down the side of his torso, thinking. It all seems very complicated, but I decide to leave that subject for now. I’m not ready to explore the idea of life and marriage and children with a Fireblood. I mean, I’m only seventeen, and Gema said to enjoy the moment. So, yeah. That’s what I’ll do.
“How often do you fly?”
He pulls back to look at me. “So many questions.”
“Yes, I have questions,” I say. “I’m a curious girl.”
He laughs and lays back.
“Is it amazing? Flying?”
His dimples answer before he does. “Yes.”
I take this in, imagine Kane soaring above the clouds, the wind whipping through his hair as he races a jet plane. The very idea sends an excited shiver over my whole body. I move onto my next point.
“The Phoenix can live a long time.”
He looks at me. “Yes.”
“And you?”
His reaches out and runs his fingers through the hair at my temple. “Well, my great, great grandfather is still alive in Ireland. He’s a hundred and seven.”
“No kidding?” I lift my brows. “So potentially, you could live to be…”
“Super old,” he finishes.
It’s kind of hard to wrap my mind around this. Kane will definitely outlive me. By decades. It makes me a little sad. I sink against him, not wanting to think about it.
“You know, your mom told me you aren’t supposed to compel people.”
