Charred Tears (#2, Heart of Fire) (5 page)

Chace glanced at him, sensing the truth of his wise friend’s words. He didn’t know what to do with that truth, though. He’d wasted several dozen lifetimes trying to escape what he was only to face his own mortality and wish he had that part of him back.

“I’m a dragon,” he said softly. “Even if I don’t have any wings.”

“Yep. I’m a panther, magic or not. Though I wish you had wings, because I’m not looking forward to getting down from here. Cats don’t climb
down
.”

“Live a little, eh, Gunner?”

“When we’re standing safely at the bottom of the mountain, I’ll consider it.”

Chace smiled and stood. He had a feeling Sky wouldn’t back down from the challenge.

Stop thinking about her!

“We’re here.” Gunner joined him. “What are we looking for?”

“No idea.” Chace took in the small plateau they stood on. Aside from one tree clinging by the roots to ground between two boulders, there was nothing else on the rocky shelf.

He could see for miles, though, great swaths of pine trees that rolled over the landscape in one direction to meet the dark blue depths of the ocean in the distance. In the other directions were stony mountains and more trees that seemed to end only where they met the sky. He had a sense of being alone but not isolated, for the subtle energy of his surroundings was like the gentle hum of his cabin. The world around him was quietly alive, the brush of fresh mountain breeze across his body a sort of welcome.

Had he ever appreciated the views he had from above? Even flying over the world, he wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed it the way he did now, the vibrant, textured hues of nature. He never expected to miss sitting on top of the world, but a pang of longing struck him hard. He was close to the sky, but he’d never be able to touch it the way he did when he was flying.

 
I’ve wasted so much of my life running from myself and my magic.

“Since we’re at a stopping point, I want to check your head,” Gunner said, slinging the pack at his back onto the ground. He knelt beside it. “I don’t know how you managed that climb in your state.”

“Felt like I didn’t have a choice. Something important is here. Or … should be.” Chace frowned, not seeing whatever he was supposed to find.

Gunner handed him a protein bar. Chace wolfed it down and dropped to his knees beside his friend, watching Gunner pull out the small medical kit he’d made before leaving the cabin.

“It feels like it’s getting better,” Chace said, touching the bandage around his head.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t listen to the assessment of a man who thought a pillowcase would cure his gaping head wound.”

“I’ve never had to take care of myself.”

“Maybe you should’ve spent some part of the past thousand years bettering yourself instead of moping around,” Gunner pointed out. He smiled to soften his words and motioned for Chace to lean forward.

Chace did so. “I know. I’m going to fix things. Appreciate life. Not suck as a friend. Get my magic back.”
Find out if there’s a chance of winning over Skylar.
“Take care of some unfinished business.”

Gunner unwrapped his wound and studied it.

“All better, right?” Chace asked.

“Could be worse.”

“That sounds like a good prognosis.”

“We’ll leave it unwrapped for a bit.”

“I don’t want goo in my hair.”

“Your hair is nothing but dried goo and blood and God knows what else. You can wash it in a couple days,” Gunner said. “My stitching is good but without medical grade supplies, I don’t want to take the chance they come out.”

“I’m messing with you, Gun.” Chace touched the roughened area of his scalp where Gunner had stitched him up. “I appreciate it and won’t wash my hair until you’re okay with it.”

Gunner sighed and relaxed visibly.

“Hope you don’t have anywhere else to be, because I’m planning on waiting here until whatever it is I need to find shows up,” Chace added.

“I need the rest.”

“It’ll be sundown soon anyway.”

“Then lets get our campsite set up.”

Chace shivered, the chill of the early evening air working through him. With some impatience, he helped Gunner set up their small camp: a two-man pup tent with space blankets, a tiny stove and a compressed wood log guaranteed to burn for twelve hours. Gunner started the small fire, and they sat on either side of it, the only sound on the mountaintop that of the crackling wood. The sun began to set, and Chace squinted, unwilling to look away from his favorite part of the day, when light and dark traded places.

Come on, Freyja. Show me what I’m here to see.

 

Chapter Six

 

Skylar stepped out of the house, immediately noticing the change in the air. It was light, no longer heavy and humid. She oriented herself for a moment, trying to determine where the dragon lair had taken her.

“A little farther away than I hoped, but not bad. You did good, house,” she murmured. “Go back to the island, before Gavin notices.”

When she turned, the house was gone. The shapes of saguaro cacti and squat mesquite trees were visible in the grainy twilight, framed against an orangey-pink horizon. The house had left her near what remained of The Field, whose charred ruins were quiet and dark.

She pulled free the two items she’d left her apartment with – the golden lasso and her cell – out of her pockets. She silently prayed the phone would work for the first time since her most recent dragon kidnapping.

The phone lit up, and she released her breath. Skylar’s eyes lingered on The Field, and she hesitated, confused once more. Despite sleeping for a week, she’d had only one emerging memory she was able to recall and no epiphanies about her past and mother. What if some of the slayers were there by choice? What if they knew about her, especially after her long absence, and she was getting ready to walk into a trap?

What if the slayers are all like me and need help?

Her mother claimed she had some kind of answer to what was going on, even if Skylar wasn’t cognizant of what it was.

She dialed Mason’s number.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, Mason,” she said.

There was a pause, then a startled “Sky!”

“Yeah. Still alive.” She smiled. “Kinda need a ride, though.”

“Where are you? What happened?” he exclaimed. “We’ve looked everywhere for you!”

“We’ll talk about it,” she promised. “I’m near The Field. Pretty sure I’ll be hunted down by a dragon or two soon, so you might want to hurry.”

“I’m on it.” There were sounds of rustling from his end and the jingle of keys. “Hope it’s okay, but I’m so not bringing Dillon. He’s been spazzing out.”

“Oh, god, I bet. Yeah leave him,” she agreed. “But hurry, Mason. I’m serious about dragons.”

“On my way.” He hung up.

Skylar locked the phone’s screen and tucked it into her pocket. She couldn’t look away from the compound where she thought she’d spent her life learning to be a slayer. The Field deserved to be burnt to the ground and yet, the sight of all she’d ever known in ruins saddened her.

She trotted towards it, aware it would take Mason a good thirty minutes to reach her, assuming he sped like usual. She reached the compound ten minutes later and walked into the ruins. What hadn’t been burnt had been bulldozed, probably to keep any secrets there nicely buried.

The blackened rubble was all that remained of her world. She sat on a cement block, unable to look away from the lifeless compound before her.

Her memories were still too fleeting to give her more than glimpses into her past. The scrapbooks helped fill some gaps, mainly by assuring her she’d had a normal childhood with a mother who doted over her and a father who was coolly proud. Only happy times were in the scrapbooks: birthday parties, silly childhood accomplishments, vacations. She loved how simple and cheerful the pictures were while straining to recall more of the underlying danger that appeared in the fragmented memories she saw when she slept. She needed to know why she and the slayers had been taken from their homes and brainwashed, why they were hunting down members of their own family.

She wanted to know more about her mother and to see the man her father had been in the scrapbooks. A part of her ached to recall just one of the beautiful scenes from the scrapbook in the hopes she was able to
feel
– even if only for a split second – what it had been like to be loved, safe, happy.

It seemed so wrong to recall more about a world that didn’t exist – the one now in ruins at her feet – than she did her own life.

The sound of crunching gravel announced the arrival of Mason’s vehicle.

Skylar pulled herself out of her thoughts and rose, facing his black SUV.

He rolled down the window as he approached, waving at her. His smile was big.

She smiled back and hopped into the passenger seat, leaning over to hug him.

“Omigod. I missed you,” Mason said, squeezing her tightly against his athletic body. “Dillon has been more of a dick than usual, and you weren’t there to keep me sane.”

She laughed. “No surprise there.”

“Let’s get out of here. I’m not in the mood for dragons today.”

“Me neither!”

Mason leaned away and put the vehicle into gear, taking them away from The Field. He merged onto the highway through a dirt access road and started north, towards Tucson.

Skylar gazed out the window as dark fell.

“What the hell happened?” he asked at last. “We were in the lobby of your apartment building. I went up to check on you before my shift was up and you were just gone.”

“Oh, I tried to take on the blue dragon myself,” she half-lied. “It didn’t go as planned.” She dwelt for a moment on the last incredible night she spent with Chace before he betrayed her.

“You saw him?”

“Yep. And the Teal Dragon.”

“I kinda figured that,” Mason admitted. “The state of your bedroom was … ahem, kind of telling.”

“Yeah.” She debated what to tell the only person was able to fully trust. “He turned me over to the blue dragon. Guess they had a deal, and Chace was supposed to deliver me. So he did.”

“Yikes.” Mason glanced at her. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” she replied.  “But you aren’t. None of the slayers are. I learned a few thing while off on my latest adventure.”

“Like why I keep remembering my sister when The Field claims she never existed?”

“Exactly. As much as I hate to say this, I need to go to Caleb’s library.”

Mason grunted.

“I promise to tell you what’s going on during the trip to Phoenix,” she offered hopefully.

“Caleb is furious with you still, and Dillon will probably be there.”

“Please, Mason?”

“Like I’ve ever told you no.”

She smiled. “I know. Thank you.”

“To Phoenix we go!”

They spoke during the two-hour drive. Skylar’s need to be able to trust someone in her life overcame the instincts urging her to be careful, and she revealed everything to Mason: from her sketchy family history to Gavin’s true identity to what she’d learned about the connection between the shifters and slayers. As she spoke, Mason’s features grew from disbelieving to grave, the normal humor that glowed in his eyes fading.

They reached Phoenix just as she finished pouring her heart out about everything. Skylar sighed, near tears, and rested her head back, not certain what Mason was going to say. He appeared pensive, his focus on the evening traffic on the eight lane highway.

“First, I’m sorry about Chace,” he started. “I have a feeling you like him more than you let on. I hope he’s got some good reasoning behind what he did. If what you believe is true about these marks we have, then I have to believe that we aren’t both going to be screwed over by shifters.”

“Do you ever see the girl who marked you?” Skylar asked curiously.

“Not really. It’s weird. She shows up every once in a while. I never know when or why or if she’s coming back. Sounds like Chace is just as reliable. Maybe being inconsistent is a shifter thing.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, not liking the idea of having her heart in the blender the rest of her life. “Kinda shitty for us.”

“They’re part animal. Could just be their natures.” Mason shrugged. “If we stick together, we can get through it.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“You told me everything except why we’re going to Caleb’s.”

“I want to see if we can find out anything about our families. Ourselves. Maybe why they’re using us to track and kill shifters.”

“Why do you think they are?”

“It makes sense to use the offspring of shifters, if we are the only ones who can find shifters. I don’t know why they’d want the shifters dead, though,” she said, considering.
Especially not Chace.

She didn’t like thinking about him; it made her hurt. She tried to push away the memories of their time together, to write him off as some sort of user who wasn’t capable of caring about her. After all, hadn’t he betrayed her? It didn’t matter that he’d done it to help the shifters. He was stupid to make a deal with her father in the first place!

And yet, her anger melted into longing when she recalled how comfortable and safe she’d been in his arms, the honey bonfire scent of his skin, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. She began to realize they hadn’t had the chance yet to dive beneath the sexual attraction and get to know one another. The glimpses she’d seen of who he was left her perplexed.

“One decision shouldn’t brand you for life, right?” she voiced aloud.

“Depends on the decision. If it involves hurting someone else, then I sometimes don’t think there’s anything that can be done to make up for it. There’s no going back from that, even if you want to or wish you could.” Mason shrugged, the hushed note in his voice sad.

“Yeah. True.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “But you can always make a fresh start and try to do better, right?”

“I hope so.”

Skylar didn’t know what to think of Mason’s somber mood. From what he said, he was reliving something he didn’t want to, or maybe, the person he spoke about who made a decision as bad as Chace’s.

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