by Casey Hays
Lyric 6
This dream is so quiet. Serene and sleepy. I yawn, kick out a foot, and hit something. It’s the side of my crib.
I scan the area around me. I’m in my home on Foxhill Drive. I recognize the pink lacey curtains over the window—brand new and perfect. The sun shines through them, casting a ray of speckled light on the floor. I roll onto my stomach to see it.
I awake so early, long before Mom comes in with my morning bottle of warm milk. It’s our ritual. She’ll pick me up, kiss my forehead, and settle with me in her arms in the corner rocking chair. I remember.
I pull up with the help of the crib and peer over the rail. My head bumps into the mobile that hangs above. It tingles with sound. I turn. I know this song.
Reaching up on unsteady legs, I grapple at one of the smiling clowns, lose my balance, and fall on my diaper-clad bottom with a soft thud. But the mobile turns with the sounds of leftover music. My mantra tingles in the sound. I giggle. The song is inside me; I feel it. I pull on it, and it gets louder. I fall backwards, shoving a fist into my mouth, and just listen.
“Hey there, little angel.” Daddy leans over me, his arms folded one over the other against the crib’s edge. His own song tickles the edges of my mind. “You hear that, do you?”
His smile shimmers, and his skin turns the slightest bit of orange. It’s beautiful. I reach up my arms toward him, and he takes one of my little hands and shakes it. With a sigh, he sinks lower, laying a cheek on his arm.
“I wish I could let you keep it, Jude, but your mom is right. We have to hide you completely.” He waits a beat, then bends and scoops me up, kissing my cheek as he settles me against his chest. He’s so warm, and he smells so good. Cinnamon? I like it. “They will find you if we don’t. But I have a plan.”
My baby self doesn’t understand what he means, but me? Standing in the corner of my dream—remembering? I understand completely.
Twenty-five
“The mantra is everything.”
I know what needs to be done, and I am the only one who can do it.
I’ve been so hung up over my lost wings, and because of it, my focus got blurred. I couldn’t see around the scars that even now flare with scorching heat between my shoulder blades. A stark reminder jabbing at me. But right now, I make a conscious decision to let it go. My parents did what they thought was right. And because of it, they inadvertently prepared me for everything that looms before me. And I choose to be thankful.
We spent the afternoon floating on our mantras. And when I faltered, Kane was there every time to haul me toward the top of the dome. I’m not going to say I’m a pro by any stretch of the imagination, but let’s just stay things are looking up. I thought I understood the power of the mantra, but I didn’t. Not until today.
You see, every move, every thought, every decision a Fireblood ever makes—it’s the mantra that rules these things. That keeps you on track. That guides you toward all the right decisions, admonishes you when you stray, protects you when you face dangers. Today, I truly get it.
I stare at my orange-hued self in the full-length mirror on the closet door with a completely different perspective. The flickering flames, the blood-orange veins branching out along my arms, my neck, crawling across my jawline to spread out over my cheeks and into my forehead—it’s all the same. Except, I recognize the Fireblood in me. My mantra testifies to this. It beats powerfully in my head, in my heart, my soul. I hear it like the first time—rich and sweet—an accounting of my life. I am Jude Ellen Gallagher: human girl, equally Fireblood. I have the right, the need, the desire to be both. And I am going to live this out.
The shimmering girl in the mirror throws me a smile that I feel on my own lips.
Movement behind me draws my attention, and Kane comes into view. He leans against the doorjamb, his light leather jacket in place, his helmet tucked under his arm and propped on his hip. He tilts his head, giving me that dimpled smile.
“Man, you’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Every day, you grow more irresistible.”
I spin, taking in his real form over his reflection. He’s fully camouflaged, ready to slip down the fire escape, break into the private parking garage for his Kawasaki, and ride off into the night. His green eyes, deep emerald tonight, are speckled with gold, the only indication of his Fireblood nature, and my pulse flutters like a wild bird in the cage of my heart.
“So you’re what?” I ask. “Just going to drive around Moapa Valley until you find some corn?”
“I meant what I said.” His tone is deliberate, as if he thinks I might try to talk him out of it. “I’m not waiting around here any longer. We need answers.”
“I know.” Boy do I know about needing answers. I move to him, pinching the waistline of his tee shirt between my thumb and forefinger. “I won’t stop you. But—”
I swallow; he frowns, full fire consuming his expression. “But?”
I hesitate, my body leaned in to his, our combined heat sweltering against each other. I’m definitely having second thoughts about him leaving, especially in light of the fact that Rylin left and never came back.
“What if you waited one more night? What if I can get to Rylin this time? And I mean like, really reach him. Find out his exact location? What if—”
“Jude.” He stops me with a simultaneous tilt of his head and lift of his black brows. “You know as well as I do your dreams aren’t always accurate. Half the time, we can’t even know what’s real. What’s truth. Too much nonsense is in the mix.”
“Yes, I know. But I talked with Adam, and he—”
“Stop.” He interrupts again, and I feel an irritation rising. But his tone is soft, understanding, so I let him go on. “You’re talking about relying on the experiences of a twelve-year-old girl who hasn’t had a dream in four years.”
“But the water. That is proof. She did the same thing once… and more.”
“What are you wanting to do?”
I pause. What am I wanting? I’m not even sure. I just know I don’t want Kane out there.
“I’m worried, that’s all.” It floods me. “I’d feel better if you knew where you were going and that you’d find Rylin at the end of it. And maybe if you wait, I can figure out this portal thing and—”
“And what?” he frowns, because he knows my mind. “Rylin isn’t a puppy, Jude.”
I sigh. He puts into words what I couldn’t bring myself to say. Because I could never do it. It’s ridiculous to think I could somehow bring Rylin back to us without setting one foot outside of the casino.
Kane shifts, drawing me even closer, his arm tight around the back of my waist.
“I’m with Petra on this one.” He drills his answer deep. “You are still learning. You are not ready to extract any solid objects. I mean, there’s a reason they don’t let Anika dream anymore.”
“Yeah, because she almost exposed the lab.”
“That’s not the only reason,” he says, and a cold confusion settles over me.
“You know something?”
“I asked Petra about it.” Real concern braids itself in with his fire, and I hold still, not daring to breathe. “You can’t just accidentally extract a solid object. It’s an intentional effort. On purpose. And it puts a real strain on your body and your brain and who knows what else. It took Anika a while to bounce back.”
“I’m not Anika,” I remind him.
His eyes dance over me, and with a sigh, he relaxes into my declaration. “No, you’re not.”
He slides back a pace and draws his fist from his pocket, uncurling his fingers. My ruby ring sits on the palm of his bronzed hand.
“Come with me,” he says.
I take in the ring, and I almost say yes. Because I would love nothing more than to climb up behind him on the back of his bike and let the wind carry us away to the roar of the machine. I miss ordinary. I miss all of the years we spent growing up with Jonas and Devan and Frankie, oblivious to the dangers the world held as we strummed
our instruments in my garage, or built forts in the snow, or lost our shoes in the river. Okay… that was only me, but Kane was there to rescue it.
I could go on, but what Kane plans to do tonight will not bring back the ordinary, and despite his reservations, I have my own agenda. And it requires staying behind.
“I can’t.” I shift away a little, and wariness clouds his features.
“What are you planning, Jude?”
“I’m planning to dream, and we are going to follow those damn signs and find Rylin together.” I take hold of his hand and fold his fingers back over my ring. “I’ll be more useful to you here, in my natural form. We’re so close, Kane. I feel it in my bones.”
A few seconds trickle past before I see the change in his features that proves we’ve moved onto the same page. I slide both of my hands up to grip his collar. Still, he’s worried about the whole ordeal. I feel this in the pulsing of his blood. And so am I. No matter how brave we both want to be, we just don’t know the ending to this saga. And this puts us on edge.
“You be careful,” I whisper. “And don’t you dare pull a Rylin stunt. Get back to me. Fast.”
He cups my jaw, adding a little tug for emphasis. It totally gets my attention.
“Before you try anything stupid in your sleep, you make sure you’ve let me in.” It’s a command, but I don’t even flinch. I don’t care how bossy it sounds. There’s no way I wouldn’t do exactly what he says.
“There you go, calling me stupid again.” I tug once on his collar, pulling his face close enough for our noses to gently bump into each other. “Don’t you do anything stupid out there. You know you’ve done your fair share.”
“Deal,” he whispers. And he moves in, brushes his lips against mine until they part under the light pressure. His skin grows bright, his mouth warm and soft and vanilla-sweet. I sink into him, absorb his kiss. He pulls free, releasing a deep exhale dressed in wariness.
I find him in my mind, absorb his emotions. He really is scared. I grip his fingers and ease my voice into his head.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Gallagher.”
Our words run over my heart like warm honey, sticking solid. I pull in a small breath and hold it.
Why does it feel like we’re never going to see each other again?
***
I get the itch to talk to Mom. It happens every once in a while. You wouldn’t think so, but that itch has a hard time forgetting that Mom and I aren’t so good anymore. Even after Portland, we’re still miles apart, and not just physically. On issues of her drinking, her parenting, her grieving, whether or not to continue keeping my brother locked away—the list isn’t short.
We never really had a chance to talk about everything she never told me. I’d like to hear the whole story of me—the truth this time—from her own lips.
Mom once told me that when I was a little girl I was more like my daddy than I knew. She was right. But I’m also very much like her in so many ways. I hope I get the chance to tell her.
Tonight, Dara fits me in the vest. Because tonight is important. I want a thorough reading.
“Dr. Ademov told me they’ve been able to get some excellent readings,” she says as she rubs goo on one if the suction cups.
“Yeah. We’ve made progress.”
I smile at her and toss Frankie a knowing look. After spending all day with Petra, she decided to finally catch up with me. She watches Dara closely and with keen interest as she presses wires to my chest, before I slide my arms into the vest. She hooks the belts, tightening to just the right fit so that the built-in sensors can accurately detect my heartbeat.
“So how long have you worked here, Dara?” Frankie asks.
“Three years.” Dara suctions a wire to my left temple.
“And what is your job description?”
“I’m a clinical technician. I mostly work with labs and monitoring vitals, usually for Firebloods. Sometimes humans. But I’m most familiar with the Fireblood anatomy.”
“Really?” Frankie takes a seat in a chair against the wall and crosses her legs, which means we’ll be here a while. “So do tell.”
Dara smiles as she fastens a wire to my left temple. “Well, for one, they have four lungs instead of two.”
I flash a glance at her. “They do?”
“Yep.” She grins. “It’s necessary for flight at high altitudes when they’re flared. They need double the oxygen to keep from passing out. They alternate the use of each set of lungs, dispersing the air back and forth, and that does the trick. It also gives them the ability to hold their breath for longer periods.”
“Fascinating.” Frankie gawks in awe. She glances at me. “How many lungs does Jude have?”
“Only two.” She addresses me. “Your anatomy is completely human. Which means, if you had wings, you would likely only be able to fly at low altitudes, if they were functional. Very few hybrids can fly.”
“Anika flies,” I interject. Dara smiles.
“You’ve met Anika, have you? And yes. She flies well, especially with the advanced dynamics of the aviary. But it’s rare.” She turns on the monitor, double checking the connection. “Hybrids don’t flare, well, with the exception of your brother, I’m told.” She grins. “But none that we’ve studied.”
“So Anika and Adam have human anatomies then?” Frankie presses.
“Yes. On the inside, fully human, other than where their wings are embedded into the shoulder blades. Adam can’t fly. Anika will never be able to fly as high or as fast as a full Fireblood. And flying low and slow in the open? Well, that’s not an option.” She sighs. “Just one of many reasons those two have been trapped here all of their lives. You’re actually very lucky your parents did what they did, Jude.”
“I know.” It’s the first time I mean it.
“Okay.” She takes my hand and helps me to the floor. “You’re all set.”
“Thanks.”
She picks up a small paper cup from the tray next to the table and hands it to me. Two green sleeping pills rest in the bottom like always. I swirl them around once before I dare to ask my next question.
“Do you think I could have a couple extras?” When her brows lift, I hurry on. “Sometime, two doesn’t do it for me. If I wake up, I don’t want to have to bother anyone for more.”
“I don’t know, Jude. That’s quite a bit of medication. It really needs to be cleared with Petra.”
“I won’t take them unless I need them,” I promise her. “Please?”
She hesitates, looks at Frankie, back at me.
“Give them to me,” Frankie chimes in. She comes to her feet. “Jude can attest that I am a stickler about such things. I will administer them per your specific directions. Petra will never have to know.”
I wait, hopeful. And after a moment, Dara draws a key from her lab coat pocket and unlocks the medicine cupboard behind her. It contains only a few bottles of medicines. The majority is likely stored in a locked pharmaceutical closet. She takes one, pops it open and drops two more pills into a cup. She hands it to Frankie.
“That’s all you get. I don’t want to lose my job.” She closes the cupboard locking it. “But one more dose won’t hurt you, as long as you take them six hours apart.”
“Six hours between doses.” Frankie taps the face of her heavy duty wristwatch. “Got it.”
She waits until we’re safely inside the elevator to confront me.
“Kane left, didn’t he?” I tense; she frowns. “And? What are you planning?”
“To sleep.” I look at her. “A lot.”
“And do you plan to find a portal?”
“You bet your ass.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her stiff smile. Because she’s trying so hard not to. She shouldn’t. It makes her an accomplice.
The elevator dings, the door opens, and I climb out, hoisting the monitor up into my arms for easier carrying. We walk, and finally, she can’t contain her tongue.
“It was a lot of water,” I counter.
“Yes, but I think you need to be prepared and not be discouraged if you’re not successful.” I keep walking, trying not to show it, but she’s not making me feel any better. “You’re essentially expecting to teleport something from one location to another—just like Star Trek.” She tries to hide her elation at that prospect; she can’t, and I stifle a smile. “This defies molecular boundaries.”
“Come on, Frankie.” I nudge her, rebalancing the monitor to drag my key card out of my pocket. “You believe in the unbelievable every day. Boundaries are obsolete, right?”
“Well, yes.” She hesitates. “Of course, I don’t want to lose my perspective here…” Another unsure pause. “Perhaps… you should start with something small. And not a puppy.”
“Okay,” I laugh, shoving open the door. “Like what?”
“Maybe… an ear of corn from that cornfield you keep dreaming about. At least, then you might get a read on Rylin’s location.”
I lift a brow. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. It’s insane.”
“Everything about Firebloods is insane. And magnificent. And you?” She knocks me over with a show of adoration. “You top them all, and I’m not just saying that because you’re one of my best friends.” She adjusts her glasses. “It’s been an honor to be included in your journey.”
I can’t even speak. It’s probably the sweetest thing Frankie has ever said to me.
“Just keep in mind that with molecular transfer, things can go wrong.”
“Like what?” I deposit the monitor on the floor at the end of the bar and yank the collar of the vest away from my chin. The glue stuck to my temples has dried and feels tight and saggy all at once.
“Well, for one, I suppose you could leave half of an object behind. If it’s a puppy, as you can imagine, this won’t be very fortunate for the puppy.”
“Frankie!” I whip my head her way. “Geesh, don’t plant those images in my head.”
