Dark Flame (Immortals 4)

“How’d it go?” I mumble, lifting my head from the desk where it’s been resting for the last hour. My hands still shaking, legs still trembling, still fighting to suppress the overwhelming urge that’s come to define me.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He eyes me slowly. “Any progress?”

I shrug. Actually, I shrug and groan. Which, as far as I’m concerned, should be answer enough. Careful to keep my hands in my lap, out of his view, so he can’t see them tremble.

“Still trying to crack the code?”

I glance at him briefly, then close my eyes and shake my head. I’ve given up on the book. As far as I’m concerned, it’s only made things worse.

“I haven’t been able to find anything either, but still. I’m happy to take another crack at it if you still want my help.”

In a word—yes. I do want his help. I’ll take all the help I can get. But with the beast now taking over, the words just won’t come. My throat growing so hot and tight only silence will soothe it.

“Is it a rhyming thing?” he asks, refusing to let it go.

I shake my head, still unable to speak.

But he just shrugs, not the least bit daunted by my refusal to play. “I’m pretty good at chants if I do say so myself—pretty good at rapping too for that matter—wanna hear one?”

I close my eyes, wishing he’d move on.

“Wise decision.” He smiles, oblivious to what I’m going through. Pretending to wipe the imaginary sweat from his brow with his heavily bandaged hand, which only reminds me of that ride he asked me about.

I rise, expecting him to follow, but he just continues to sit there, staring at me in a way so intense, so insistent I can’t help but croak, “What? What is it? Is Riley here?”

He shakes his head, swinging his dreadlocks off his shoulders and onto his back as those brilliant blue-green eyes pull down at the sides. “Haven’t seen her in a while,” he says, head tilted, gaze focused on mine. “I admit, I try from time to time, but I always come up empty.” He shrugs. “I guess she just doesn’t want to be reached right now.”

I scrunch my brow, not sure I agree. Riley’s sent me enough cryptic messages lately to make me highly doubt that, to make me feel like she does want to be reached.

“Do you think that maybe—” I pause, not wanting to sound ridiculous, but then deciding not to care. I’ve already looked plenty ridiculous in front of Jude, so what’s one more time? “Do you think that maybe it’s not that she doesn’t want to come through but that she can’t come through?” He looks at me, about to speak when I lift my finger and say, “And I don’t mean can’t as in not able or can’t find a way to manage it, but more like, I don’t know, like, maybe she’s not allowed to come through? Maybe someone or something is stopping her?”

“Could be.” He shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling so casually, so easily I’m not sure if he really does agree or if he’s just humoring me. Wanting to spare my feelings from the cold, hard, unavoidable fact that my ghostly little sister has given up on me—that she’s too busy with her afterlife activities to come out and play. “Has she shown up in any more dreams?” he adds, voice more than inquisitive, bordering on hopeful.

“No,” I say, without a hint of hesitation, not wanting to think about that disturbing dream that I had where Damen was trapped behind glass and Riley stood off to the side, urging me to pay attention, to not look away.

“Wanna try to reach her now?” He looks at me, head cocked to the side.

But I just shake my head and sigh. I mean, sure I’d like to reach her—I’d like that very much. Who wouldn’t want a visit from their adorably feisty, dead little sister? But when I think about the state that I’m in, there’s no way I can do it. Even if she could help in some way, which I seriously doubt, but still, even if she could, I can’t stand for her to see me like this. I don’t want her to know what I’ve done. What I’ve become.

“I’m—I’m not really up for all that right now,” I say, clearing my throat.

Jude leans back in his chair, foot propped on his knee, gaze unrelenting, never once straying from mine. “What exactly are you up for?” he asks, forehead scrunched as though he’s truly concerned. “All you seem to do these days is work.” He drops his foot on the floor and leans toward me, anchoring his bandaged arms on the desk when he adds, “Do you even realize it’s summer out there? Summer in Laguna Beach

! Half the population dreams of a sweet gig like that and you’ve barely taken notice. Believe me, if I weren’t so banged up, I’d be out there surfing and enjoying every spare moment I could get. Not to mention, and correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this your first summer here?”

I take a deep breath, remembering how last summer found me injured, hospitalized, newly orphaned, and burdened with psychic powers I couldn’t bear, naively thinking that’s as bad and weird as things could ever possibly get. Hardly able to believe it’s already been a year since my entire life changed.

“I can handle the store. Hell, I can even get myself to the doctor, who cares if I’m late? But please, do yourself a favor and take a break. There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored and with all the time you spend here indoors—well, it’s not healthy.”

I stand before him, a mess of shaking hands, trembling body, and ragged breath—a walking billboard for unhealthy living, desperately scoping the room for the first available exit.

“Ever? You okay?” He leans toward me.

I shake my head, unable to answer, unable to speak. Roman is out there. I can feel him drawing near. Having just left the store and wandering the village streets, headed right in my vicinity. And I know it’s just a matter of time, maybe another minute, two at the most, and the old me will be gone, completely succumbed to the monster within.

I grip the edge of the desk, knuckles protruding, bony and white, fighting to steady myself, horrified at being seen like this, and needing to get away before it’s too late—

Slipping around the desk so quickly I’m at Jude’s side well before he can blink. My fingers clutching the graying white plaster that circles his arm, having no choice but to say, “If you want me to take you, we need to go now—it can’t wait!”