by Casey Hays
Kane says nothing, but a desperation lines his silence. I’m crushed by it, and funny thing, I have this overwhelming need to take off my ring. Urgent.
I wrap my fingers around the ruby, and Kane’s eyes flit downward, his lower lip trembling. I’ve never seen him like this, and it sends this unfamiliar ache through my body. So I tug my ring free, and I wait for him to say something… anything… inside my head or otherwise. I don’t even care.
“It takes a few minutes to connect with you,” he whispers.
Tense, I drop my ring on the coffee table. He tugs on my arm, pulling me down to him, and we wait… five minutes. Ten. And then…
“I’m adopted,” I whisper.
I was going to tell him, eventually. I just blurt it. I don’t even know why. I guess, I needed to say something to fill the awkward space. Or maybe… I need Kane to talk to me one way or the other.
He breathes in, his chest sinking away from my cheek. “What?”
I bite my lip. It was easy to say it, but it sure was hard to feel it on my lips again. I twist away from him.
“I found the papers in my mom’s room.”
“Wow,” he says. I toss him a glance. “You didn’t know?”
I shake my head and rest my eyes on the skylight where the edge of the moon is barely visible through the glass. “I was born in Costa Rica.”
“Costa Rica, huh? So I guess that makes you my Spanish princess,” he teases. I’m not amused.
“It doesn’t bother you?”
I feel his shrug beneath me. “Why would it?”
“I don’t know.” I roll toward him, tucking my hand into the bend of his elbow. “It bothers me. I know nothing about myself. Which means you know even less.”
“That’s not true.” He winds a lock of my hair around his finger. “Look, it doesn’t matter where you came from. This is who you are.” He gives me a little shake.” You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I wouldn’t change a single minute of you.”
I smile. “A single minute of me?”
“Not one.”
The words penetrate deep. I inhale, searching my mind, listening for more.
“I love you,” he says. “You.”
The breathy words lift a piece of my hair, and I feel super warm all the way to my core. I close my eyes and answer him… inside my mind.
“I love you.”
He laughs, his cheek against my head. “That felt good,” he whispers.
I hold my breath, amazed at the crazy turn my life has taken. Reckless and safe. The two contrasting ideas mold together so perfectly in my brain. It’s ludicrous, and oh-so-sensible, and I want more of it. I want more of him. I prop myself up on his chest, eye level.
“Don’t make me wait for my mom. I have too many questions.”
His jaw tightens. “I thought we’d effectively changed the subject.”
“Nope.”
He smiles. I blast him with another thought.
“Please talk to me, Kane.”
I feel him hear me. That’s the only way I can explain it. It’s crazy. I don’t understand it, but I love it, and desperation rages through my veins. I itch all over for more, for a key that unlocks the secret to his world that I’ve tumbled into. I catch sight of my ring glinting at me from the table, and an ember ignites inside me, thirsting for the wind to flare it to life.
That’s when it hits me. I raise up a little bit.
“Does my mom—” I break off, the sudden thought hesitant and scary. “Does she know about you? Did my dad know?”
Kane studies me. His eyes burn with a soft orange glow now. He nods, tentative.
A whirlwind of emotion surges through me, and all those puzzle pieces I’ve been trying to work out—all the corners and nice straight edges and funky shapes—they flutter up, spin out of reach, and begin to fall one by one into completely different places.
Mom adores Kane; this is a given. She trusts him, and he’s always been a favorite choice for me based on her not-so-subtle innuendos. But she knows he’s a Fireblood. She knows, and still…
A piece or two hovers, searching for a spot in the scenery.
“My ring?” I pin Kane with the question. He eases us up, tangling his fingers with mine. “Why did my dad give it to me? Was it to keep—” I halt, hating my next thought. “To keep you out of my head?”
His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow. “Partly.”
“Why?”
“Because you couldn’t do it on your own. And it was too hard for me to stay out.”
He won’t look at me. I crinkle my brows with a shake of my head. He runs his tongue across his lower lip.
“I didn’t want to be in your head if you didn’t want me there. I’m not like Rylin.”
Rylin?
Kane slides out from under me and climbs to his feet while I stare in numbed confusion. Without a word, he goes to the piano. I swing my legs over the edge of the sofa, watching. He pulls the tarp free and raises the lid.
“What are you doing?” I come to my feet. He plucks a few notes with one finger. I freeze.
It’s… Rylin’s song.
He slides the bench back and gestures for me, his eyes burning. “Come here.”
I stare at him, stunned. “How do you know that song?”
My entire body racks with shock, and I race through my memories. I’m certain of it; Kane was never in my thoughts with this song.
“How do you know it?” I repeat. “Nobody does. Nobody.”
My fists ball up at my sides. Did he invade my thoughts without my knowing? How could he? It’s one thing to let him in, but this? This is a complete invasion of privacy.
“Jude—”
“No!” I cover my ears. “You stay out of my head.” His presence eases back, and I pierce him. “Answer me. With your mouth.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his curls. “It’s Rylin’s mantra.”
I blink. “His what?”
“He used to feed it to you. Do you remember? It started in third grade.”
I can’t move. Can’t speak. But I remember third grade. And fourth, and fifth… I remember the song invading my entire life for four, long years, until Dad told me Angelica would—
I stop the thought short, letting the shock penetrate, and for a full minute, I can’t think. Don’t get me wrong, a myriad of thoughts swarms around, but not a single one of them knows where to settle for the longest time. I slide my hands down my cheeks to clutch my throat until the one thought I’ve been trying madly to absorb finds its way to my tongue.
“Rylin is a Fireblood,” I whisper. Kane takes a step toward me. I move away, disregarding the hurt that crosses his face. “He’s the other voice on the audio.”
I stare straight into his eyes. He slides his hands into his pockets, and he doesn’t deny it. No point. I’ve figured it out. And my ring? Dad gave it to me when I was too old to lug Angelica around anymore. I get it now.
“The ring keeps him out of my head.”
“Yes. Just like your doll did before that.”
I take the deepest breath of my life. “Why would he feed me? I don’t understand.”
Kane moves closer. “He couldn’t help it in the beginning. We can’t control it until later.”
“And now?”
Kane chews on the inside of his cheek a minute. “Now, he wants you to hear it.”
“But the other day when he was at my house, I heard it. His music was in my head.” I point at the coffee table. “I had my ring on.”
Kane nods. “Once he figured out the source, it gave him a doorway to get inside your head again.” He smiles softly. “We’re gonna need to change the source.”
I’m stunned.
“But why? What does he want?”
It’s a no-brainer question. I know what Rylin’s music does to me. Instead of answering, Kane reaches into his pocket and pulls out the silver key he gave me. I fasten my eyes on him.
“When did you take that?” I’m a lit
tle irritated. Every other time, he’s asked me for it.
“This morning while you were in Reno. I had to finish it.”
Finish it? I push my brows together, confused. It's not even close to my next birthday. He takes hold of my hand and places the key in my palm. Only now, it has five notches along its edge. He folds my fingers around it.
“I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
“Why?” My breath is suddenly wheezy, full of nerves.
“Because I gave you this key all those years ago.” His grip tightens around my closed fist. “And I’ve been stalling, but… I promised myself then if you ever asked, I would show you.”
“Show me what?”
“What the key unlocks.”
With a quick breath, he steps in and presses his forehead against mine, eyes closed. I peer at him. He’s so close, full of sweet musk and fear, and it scares me. I entwine my fingers in with his, tugging.
“And—” I hesitate. “What is that?”
“You,” he whispers.
Puzzled, I pull back. His eyes are lined with tears, wetting his dark lashes, and I get this awful feeling. He’s genuinely scared, and this prickles all the way up my spine. I feel every single part of his fear running through his blood, stronger than ever. My breathing rasps out, shaky. I squeeze his fingers.
“Kane?”
Another quick minute passes, and he tows me over to the old, brass mirror Mom has propped in a corner for decorative effect.
“Take a look,” he nods.
I study him, but then I take in my image—the same girl I’ve seen every day for the last seventeen years. My eyes swiftly travel the length of my frame to my face, to my high cheekbones and too-pointed chin. I stare into my own brown eyes…
They swarm with yellow flecks. I gasp.
“What the hell?”
I feel Kane niggling inside my mind. At his command, all the blinds in the room snap shut. The lights dim, and together, our eyes burn in unison.
“How are you doing that?” I whisper, amazed at the dual pair of flames.
“I’m not,” he answers. He slides his arms around my waist, dropping his chin into the crevice of my shoulder, cheek to cheek. “It’s all you.”
I’m numb, eyes affixed on my own face. It’s foreign, blazing with unfamiliarity. The longer I look, the less I recognize myself, and my heart pounds hard.
I freak.
“No, no, no, no.” I shrug out of his embrace, my hands flying to cover my face. “This is not happening. I can’t be… I can’t—”
I can’t breathe, and I bend at the waist and concentrate on keeping my balance as every nerve inside me screams. I cannot handle another shocking revelation this week. I’ve barely eased into this new role as girlfriend to a Fireblood. With the discovery of my adoption, and the fact that Rylin McDowell likes to feed me his mantra, I’m about to crack.
Kane’s fingers brush my back, but I jerk away, pacing. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I almost choke on my own spit. My skin glows, warm and white with emotion. I lift my hands, stare at them wide-eyed, and panic all over again.
“What is happening?” My voice rises with anxious fear. I slap a hand against my forehead, fighting tears.
“Jude—”
“No!” I press against his chest. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
All my senses are heightened, and the silver key feels like an unbearable weight in my palm. My ears rattle with the sounds of the house. A creak in the floor. The air conditioner kicking on. Static electricity. My pulse pounds louder and louder. I hear Kane’s breathing, a painful gait in it. His skin is hot under my hand, and his scent? It overpowers me, pulling at all my desires. I literally think I might implode.
My tears are the last thing I feel, burning my cheeks in hot rivers. I slump to the floor, not sure what to think. Because… I don’t know who I am anymore.
The sudden shock of this one thought sends me over the edge. Am I just one big lie?
“No, Jude.” Kane kneels, his hand cupping my knee. “You’re not. This isn’t a bad thing.”
“Would you please stay out of my head for a minute?” I screech.
“No.”
I glare at him. He pierces me, mind and soul and spirit.
“Listen, Jude. Open your heart and listen.”
I squint at him, feel him in my head guiding me toward a noisy, foggy part of me. I think at first I should be scared, but I’m not. I reach through the fog with my mind.
The song drifts in, slow and sensuous, aching with feelings that paint colors on my brain. A veil drops away, and I exhale a soft breath as the song engulfs me.
It’s been years since I’ve heard it, but it takes me half a minute to recognize it. Because I suddenly understand that it’s always been with me, ingrained in my bones, waiting for me to find it again. Because it wasn’t just Rylin’s music I heard. No. A little girl’s song was also buried under Angelica’s influence.
The repressed sounds ripple through me, igniting my senses like skin on silk, and I remember it. I pull the music in and wrap it around me like a new, wool coat. It glows with the light of the sun; it sings with the sirens in the deepest part of the ocean. It lights me on fire. It’s the most beautiful sound. Ever.
I meet Kane’s eyes.
“It’s my mantra,” I whisper.
My lip trembles, my body shakes, and Kane cups my face, his lips close, his eyes glued to mine. He bites his lip to staunch his tears, and we listen, feel our way through the song—together. I’m not quite sure when it happens, but along the way, I sense his harmony dancing along the edges, just the way Rylin’s used to. Only Rylin’s? It overpowered mine back then—uninvited. It tried to mingle; I held it off. But I welcome Kane’s; I pull at it, weaving it into my melody. It’s so easy, and boy was I wrong. Because this? This is the most beautiful song. It soars high, a pattern full of love and trust and life together.
Eyes of fire pierce me. One heartbeat, and I’m in his arms. This kiss? It’s the sweetest one I’ve tasted—gentle and rough, smooth and prickly, wet and warm—exactly right.
When he pulls away with a slight tugging smack, I fling my arms around his neck, hugging him to me. He rises, holding me tight, my legs linked around his waist.
“This is who you are, Jude. Perfectly you.”
Kane speaks in Jezik. When he drops me to my feet in front of the mirror, I capture his eyes in the reflected image. I laugh, shaking my head.
“I can’t believe this.”
I’m in his head now, speaking Jezik, and his smile lights up the mirror. It’s impossible, and it isn’t.
“See?” Kane smiles. “You’re mostly like me.”
I laugh again, unable to contain it. The song strums, stronger and sharper, my eyes burn a deep yellowish-orange, and you know what? I have to accept who I am. So I do.
I trace my melody as it swarms through my head. I separate it from his, link them back together. It dances between us—ringing with our past, exploding in the present, and hoping for the future.
It’s amazing.
I spin, my fingers still curled around the key.
“You hear it, right?” I whisper. I slide my hand up his chest to his neck. His skin glows, just barely. “Both parts of the song?”
Crooked grin intact, he eases his camouflage, and his wings flail out behind him—huge and raven black and amazing. His eyes of jade, littered with those familiar gold flecks, speak to my soul.
“All my life,” he whispers.
The silver key cuts into my palm, and I sink into the beauty of those words.
Postlude
That night, we danced. We just shoved the furniture out of the way and got lost in the song inside our heads. No DJ, no flat sodas, and no phone numbers written on a napkin required.
Kane tells me he heard my mantra for the first time with a red crayon clutched in his fist. It was embedded deep in my subconscious, but he heard, and he never forgot the sound of it.
As for me, I’m still getting used to things, but knowing my song has made me whole. It’s made me unafraid to hope, to fear, to love completely and unconditionally. And Kane’s mantra? It hits me straight through the heart every time I sense it inside my head. One taste, and I’m swimming in the deep end.
I stand in front of the mirror, eyes burning bright— and I absorb everything that is me. Me. I’m my own science project. I smile.
I’m a Fireblood.
I have tons more to tell you about that summer. Trust me, this is just the beginning. But first… I’ve got to get a grip. I mean, it’s not every day a girl looks in the mirror and finds out she isn’t human. You know, now that I think about it, this actually could become a problem.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, thank you Molly Phipps for creating the most amazing cover. I was absolutely blown away by its beauty. You gave me more than I even imagined, and I couldn't have asked for anything better. I'm so looking forward to seeing what other magic you have in store for the rest of the series.
Thank you, Anna Faulk, as always. I know I keep saying it, but I couldn't do what I do without your keen insight.
Thank you to my select group of volunteer copy and proof editors for cleaning up the messes I make along the way, in particular, Marla Layman, Robin Gonzales, and Lori Standring. Your keen eyes, strong grasps on grammar, and attention to detail are greatly appreciated.
And finally, thank you to my family for always supporting me. Thank you, Scott, for working diligently to help me prepare my book trailer. Thank you, Faith, for letting me test ideas and read parts of my unpolished story aloud to you for feedback. Thank you, Zach, for always being encouraging. I love all of you more than you know.
Writing this book has been one of the most enjoyable moments in my career so far. I thank the Lord that He's granted me another day to see it come to fruition.
SCORCH SONG
(Firebloods 2)
COMING 2018
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