I resisted the urge to touch it. “That’s…incredible.”
I let my hand drift over the flames instead, feeling their heat seep into my palm. It didn’t feel anything like the incendiary’s fire. Still intense, still destructive, but there was a hypnotizing beauty. It was unreal that some humans had evolved to do this.
For better or worse.
“I’ve been around it for so long, I forgot what it’s like to see it that way,” Javier admitted. His focus drifted from the fire to me. “Now it’s just a part of me. An afterthought.”
“That’s good, though, isn’t it? I mean, if you stop obsessing over it, it’ll be harder to fuck up. Like I’m about to do.”
“Not always.” Javier laughed. “It’s easier to become numb. It’s our normal, you know, but not everyone has this.” He flexed his fingers and the fire shimmered. “And fucking up is part of the process. Trust me on that.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Plenty of pyro-related fuck ups in my past. As with anything else.” He lifted his hand a little higher to my sightline, the flames shifting from his palm to his fingertips, which held a faint reddish glow. “You feel the energy, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s like a shade different than what I felt around the incendiary. Not quite heat, but similar. Intense…really intense.”
“Okay, now—tap into that. You’ve already woken it up,” Javier said. “Find that same fire inside you.”
I didn’t know whether it would help or not, but I closed my eyes out of some instinct. Took another calming breath. Where was I supposed to look, to find it? I concentrated. I curled my fingers, expecting the heat and the tiny pinpricks of light.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of anything resembling warmth.
My eyes fluttered open as disappointment flooded my chest. I turned my hand over, inspecting my knuckles, my palm. Not a glimmer in sight.
“Well, so much for that,” I muttered. “See, this is what happens when you hype me up too much.”
“No one gets it on their first try,” Javier said, flashing that fond, amused grin. The flames continued to dance along his fingertips, a dull roar, a sizzle as it undulated. “It’s either an accident or luck, and everything after that is part of the learning curve. That fire in you is instinctual, Nix, you just have to feel for it. Reach out to it.”
I kept my eyes open this time, staring a hole into the palm of my hand.
Come on, I begged. Come on…
Still nothing.
I dropped my hand, shoulders sagging in defeat. “It’s not happening,” I told him. “I’m starting to think I’m a one-hit wonder. That night I came home from the hospital, I tried to find that power again and it wasn’t there.”
“It’s there,” Javier assured. “You’re thinking about it too much. Doesn’t respond to thoughts, Nix. It’s an instinct. You know how the pyros in this city came to be?”
“No,” I replied. “It’s not something they teach you about in school.”
“Easier to hide it in myths and urban legends,” Javier said, letting the fire roll to his other hand. “Once the incendiaries crawled up out of Hell, the people living here needed a way to defend themselves. The Hellmouth changed them, too. Started giving them the power to manipulate fire. A few generations later, and it’s in our veins from birth. A defense mechanism. If you asked Jodi, she’d call it an evolutionary advantage.”
“It saved me,” I realized. “But the other night, with that demon…”
“Doesn’t always do what you want in the beginning,” Javier reminded. “Try again. It’s like they say: third time’s the charm.”
Letting everything else around me fall away, I listened to the crackle of Javier’s flame. I felt his power ghosting along my skin and tried to replicate it, calling it forth from somewhere deep. Not under my skin and in my blood. Maybe it came from the soul.
I lifted my hand, my palm facing the ceiling.
Took a ragged, anxious breath.
I saw the first tiny embers of reddish-orange light appear like ethereal veins. Warmth spread through my fingertips until it was blazing hot, my skin no longer looking human, giving off a molten glow.
A second later, the fire exploded onto my fingertips, and I gasped at the unexpected gust of heat. It didn’t hurt, like Javier had said. There was a slight prickling sensation across my skin, but it was only the temperature I felt, not any pain.
“And there you have it.”
Javier maneuvered the flames in his palm to form a ball of light and pitched it into the darkness. This time, it extinguished itself once it slammed into the concrete in a cascade of orange embers.
I studied the flames as they ambled over the tips of my fingers, allowing it to shift into my hand. Keeping a tight hold on the thread of energy that tethered me to it, I let the flames go, flicking my wrist like I’d chucked a flat stone toward the lake. The power was strong, running rampant through me now like I’d finally freed that secret part of me. The flames wavered and caught the air, skittering over the concrete.
It took a few bounces for it to settle, a spray of sparks lighting the vast interior of the warehouse with each impact. When it finally landed toward the furthermost wall, I curled my fingers and lifted my hand. The fire continued to burn, columns of thin, pale smoke wafting to meet the ceiling.
I took a few steps forward and clapped my hands together.
The fire went out.
It took little effort compared to the Hellfire.
“Now who’s the showoff?” Javier teased.
“That?” I tried for a smirk. “Nothing.”
It felt good, as if that long lost part of me suddenly made me more whole when I hadn’t realized before that there had ever been anything missing. The surge of confidence brightened my mood for the first time in weeks.
“Good,” Javier said. “We got a lot to catch you up on.”
11
“If you start to feel yourself panic, you gotta tell me.”
“I’m fine.” I’d paused to catch my breath, pacing in circles as I dragged the back of my wrist across my sweaty forehead. My pulse thrummed wildly; I panted like I’d just ran up five flights of stairs in full gear, dragging a hose. I stopped to tighten the ponytail that began to shake loose, twisting it into a high bun. “I already told you.”
The musty warehouse spread out between us, the stink of algae and marine life in the river carrying through the missing windows. I kicked at a fissure in the concrete floor with the toe of my boot that looked as if someone else had been digging a crater. In the days since our first practice session, a mystery tagger had used the last of the spray paint from the cans rolling around outside to claim the walls.
My dark jeans clung to the perspiration on the backs of my knees, the denim scratching against my skin. We’d been at this for over an hour already, and it made for a hell of a cardio session.
“I’m serious, Nix,” Javier said. “You need to be ready for anything, but no amount of training is worth killing yourself for.”
“I get it, Santos,” I said. “And I appreciate it. Really. But I’m not fragile.”
“Never thought you were,” he answered. “Just tell me, all right? Call me an asshole, hit me with fire. Tell me to stop.” He paced between two support beams and finally came to rest at what seemed like miles away from me.
“I’m fair game, too.” Javier pounded a fist against his chest. “Remember that.”
“Are you asking me to burn you?” I challenged, my voice rising, filling up the room. “Because from here, that’s what it sounds like.”
“Look, I’m hoping to avoid it,” he said. “Occupational hazards being what they are, and your fire—”
I planted my feet shoulder width apart to center myself. “What? So my aim is shit. I’ve only been at this a few days.”
Fire ignited in Javier’s hand, shadows dancing across his face. “Your fire’s gotten more intense. Don’t think it’s a problem with the way
you’re using it. But there’s a lot we don’t know about this yet.”
“Just watch your eyebrows and you’ll be fine.”
“My eyebrows are the least of my worries.”
I scoffed. “Okay, sure.”
I dropped into a slight crouch, thinking it would be easier to break into a run. Javier gave me no warning—and I didn’t expect him to—before he started another attack. As soon as the flames caught the air, I was running, boots squealing across the concrete, trying to make myself a difficult target. My heart slammed against my ribs when the first of the flames ricocheted off the back wall and spun toward my head. I dove to the floor as they fizzled out, missing their mark, and was back up on my feet a moment later.
Thank fuck for strong pain meds.
Flames leapt onto my fingers and I threw them toward the other end of the room with reckless abandon. I didn’t stop to see where they’d landed.
Maybe that was my problem.
Sparks flashed off the concrete, off the graffiti-covered walls. Relentless. Dread blossomed somewhere in me, a flare I tried to contain, and I smothered it as my focus remained on the challenge.
The air smelled like a lit match. The cotton fabric of my tank top stuck to the small of my back. I kept moving, the muscles in my legs aching with the sprints back and forth across the floor. Fire rained down around me, some of it seeking out its mark, zigzagging over the floor, exploding in front of me. One of Javier’s fire bombs nearly lit the end of my shoelace like a fuse. Another screamed past my cheek, stirring the loose strands of hair from my bun.
I pitched fire back at him, letting it roll toward his feet. Embers rose from the line of flames, winking out like orange fireflies on a muggy summer night. He jumped out of the way, an expletive sharp on his tongue. I let them follow him, watching Javier do an awkward side-step that ended with him sprawled on the floor on his ass. The flames didn’t last for too much longer, extinguishing themselves after several seconds.
“That’s how you’re playing this, huh?” Javier scraped himself off the floor and brushed the dirt from his jeans.
I shrugged and moved in closer. “I thought it’d be fun. Make you sweat a little. You said to be prepared for anything.”
“Think you singed off some of my arm hair.”
“I wasn’t even close.”
“Oh, you were close enough.” He pointed a finger at me, accusing, lips quirked in a grin.
I was fixing a shoelace when I caught the flicker in Javier’s palms out of the corner of my eye. Like the night of my fire, we were too close, the flames careening toward me quicker than I could react. The first grazed my bare bicep, white smoke rising from seared pink flesh.
I hissed. “Shit.”
My hands shot out in front of me, fingertips glowing reddish-orange, veins of fire snaking up my arms. The ball of flames heading straight for my torso slowed down, losing their brightness, their heat, their intensity. I breathed in, the air shimmering around my fingertips as I directed the flames back to their source. They flared anew with a burst of sparks, the heat spiking enough to tint their edges blue.
My stomach dropped. And so did Javier, to escape the flames. They landed on the floor behind him and kept burning, blue licking the air, until I snuffed them out myself.
I rubbed at the burn with the pad of my thumb. It didn’t look too bad—no blistering, at least, though it stung like hell.
I didn’t even realize Javier had jogged over until he spoke. The warmth, the energy still twining off his body had already become familiar to me. “Sorry, Nix. You okay?”
“It’s fine,” I assured. “You said it had to happen sometime.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be the guy responsible.”
“I’m fine,” I repeated. “I’ll just hold it over you and bring it up anytime it’s convenient.”
He laughed. “Sure you will. Here, let me see it.”
“I’m good—Santos—really.” My protests didn’t do any good. He bent his head to accommodate our height difference, his fingers hot on my already warm skin. He hovered near the burn, his mouth slightly open, assessing. I held my breath without realizing it, unused to such close contact from someone in a long time. “I’ve had much worse.”
Perspiration glistened down his temples, across his cheekbones. “Doesn’t make me feel any better about it.” Javier let go of my arm but his touch remained like an imprint. He swept the back of his arm across the sweat dripping from his brow.
“I know it’s a habit from the job, but we can be on a first name basis here. You can even throw in a ‘Javi’ every now and then. We’re partners now, y’know. And we were best friends. Long time ago, but doesn’t make a difference.”
“No way in hell you’re calling me Victoria. No one calls me that.”
“Jodi’s called you Victoria.”
“Against my will.”
Javier shook his head. “All right, I get it,” he said. “We’re calling it quits for the night, anyway. C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”
“We don’t have to stop,” I said. Javier walked over to one of the two lanterns we’d kept lit. “I’m okay. I can keep going.”
“That’s all good for you, but I’m beat,” he said, straightening up from his crouch with a groan. “Worked a shift last minute early this morning and it kicked my ass more than I’m willing to admit.”
“Oh.” Well, now who’s the asshole? “You could’ve told me. I would’ve understood if you wanted to take the night off.”
“Nah.” He picked up the lantern, switching it off. “I like to keep myself busy.”
I carried the second lantern, keeping it lit until we were out in the alleyway where the city lights could find us. This routine had become familiar now, the two of us walking the streets of The Raze in the small hours of the morning. I didn’t mind the company. There was still that hint of awkwardness in the silences, that unsure footing in casual conversation outside of work. It was odd to me that we’d known each other once and yet picking up wherever we’d last left off wasn’t as easy for either of us as we thought it would be.
Then again, eighteen years was a long time.
There were shortcuts to my building, at least one of them through a questionable back alley that involved climbing on top of a dumpster and scaling a fence if I wanted a little adventure, but we opted for the longer route. We fell into overflow from the clubs and bars. Clusters of people on street corners, a flash of glitter or sequined dresses here and there, cigarette smoke and weed and spilled beer swirling on a muggy wind. This was the most comfortable stretch of silence we’d had.
“How long have you been at this?” I asked him after some time. “I mean, when did your power show up?”
We both turned our heads to find the impromptu singalong that broke out down the street a ways back, a group of rowdy college kids with their arms around each other huddled in the middle of the sidewalk singing a John Denver tune.
“This thing with Jodi? Six months, if that,” Javier answered. “I was uh—damn, it’s been an age—but I was sixteen when I found out about the pyromancy. Almost set my grandmother’s house on fire.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Spent the longest time being ashamed of it, hiding it. Damn near gave her and my mother a heart attack when I told them I wanted to be a firefighter.”
I hummed in agreement. “That sounds about right. My aunt tried everything she could to talk me out of it.”
“I get it,” Javier said. “Didn’t work, but I get it. They wanted to protect us from this for as long as they could.” We crossed another intersection. “My fire started getting stronger in the last couple of months of probationary. That blue fire trick you pulled back at the warehouse? That’s where it started, for me. The other thing happened off the job. I was walking home from shift one night, minding my own damn business, when I saw few pyros light up this car. Didn’t even realize someone was in it ‘til I heard the screaming.”
“Holy shit.”
“Mayb
e they didn’t know there was someone in there,” Javier said. “Maybe, maybe not. They were already gone the second I ran up on them. After that, the training took over. I remember being so desperate to put that fire out. And I guess that desperation’s what did it for me. Put the fire out, pulled the victim from the car. Didn’t even realize what’d happened ‘til it was over.”
“Did they survive?”
“Yeah. She lived.” Javier smiled. “Moved the hell out of Perdition Falls after she recovered, but I still hear from her every now and then.”
We stopped outside the front doors to my building, and I dug the key out of my pocket. “You’ve been at this a lot longer than I have. I don’t know how you don’t get frustrated with me.”
Javier lifted one shoulder. “You catch on quick,” he said. He looked at me. “I wouldn’t wish this shit on anybody, but if I had to share it with someone…I think we have a real shot at this.”
“Taking down a demon murderer is one thing,” I said. “But an entire mob?”
“Well, we’re not gonna do it all at once.” Javier flashed a smirk. “Rest up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned to leave, but then backtracked, stuffing a hand into his pocket as he approached again. “Hey—if you’re sick of training and want to try some field work, I might have something for you.”
I stopped messing with the stubborn lock. “Oh yeah?”
“Warning you now, it’s boring,” Javier said. “Unless we catch anything suspicious, you’re gonna wish you’d picked the training session. Trust me on that.”
“Santos, I attract trouble like a moth to a flame,” I reminded. “Nothing is going to be boring. I’m in.”
He’d stopped patrolling The Raze in his free time once he knew I was all right with defensive pyromancy, so I had no idea what he considered a dull task.
“Thought you would be.” He lingered on the sidewalk a moment longer. “’Night, Nix.”
I stayed out there, too, watching him disappear into the night. Wondering how this strange city had ripped us apart and brought us back together again. The two of us powerless against the violent, cataclysmic tide. I didn’t want to think about what kind of water we were treading now or when it would inevitably drag us under.
Baptism of Fire (Playing With Hellfire Book 1) Page 12
