“Because I’m about to use Freya’s gifts.”
He looks at me with dead eyes, not understanding.
I widen my eyes and add: “All of them.”
Now, he’s terrified.
“Okay, people, gotta go.” He collects his jacket and practically runs out the door. Everyone gathers their purses and jackets and swiftly follows him.
We all share good nights, I thank them for helping me move my furniture and endless boxes, and they leave, but Justin lingers on the porch for a moment, rocking on his heels. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
It nearly breaks my heart. Justin still blames himself for what happened to me; no matter what I say, I can’t change that. He must forgive himself first. Until then, he’ll neverhearme trying to tell him I’ve never blamed him.
I wrap my arms around Justin and rest my cheek on his chest. He smells like my childhood hopes and security. “I love you, big brother.”
A choke sounds from above me, but I don’t look up. I don’t want him to feel embarrassed. “I love you too, little sister.” He nearly croaks his words, walking to his truck. Kayla’s in the passenger seat, looking the other way, giving us privacy.
I can’t believe I ever thought ill of her, following the masses and… well, my own prejudice. She’s so pure. Probably the purest of us all.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions. It’s the first day of my new life.
I’ll get better soon.
ChapterTwo
MARK
I wake up to a loud beeping sound. Lost between sleep and wakefulness, I pry my eyes open in an attempt to understand what’s happening. My last two back-to-back shifts have left me groggy and disoriented. Little Hope isn’t very big on firefighters—or emergencies for that matter—and yesterday we got called to help put out a massive fire in an apartment building in Copeland, a neighboring town. One whole crew went to fight the fire, and the other remained in Little Hope, both pulling double shifts.
Someone is licking my fingers, and it takes me a while to figure out it’s Ghost. He’s whining as he gently pulls on my hand. I try to force my eyes back open, but they don’t listen. I haven’t slept in days, and I’m fucking exhausted.
When I finally get my wits together, my brain clears, and I am finally able to force my body to move, I realize the sound seems familiar. Very familiar. A fire alarm. I jump from the bed, wide awake, and grab my pants from the floor. I’ve seen far too many dicks during my firefighter career. Enough to last me a lifetime. People get caught in weird states of undress during emergencies more often than you might think.
I run downstairs, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. It only takes me a moment to realize it’s coming from Mrs. Jenkins’s house. She had just rented her place to somebody. Just fuckin’ awesome—the perfect welcome party on the first night they moved in.
“Stay,” I command Ghost as I grab a fire extinguisher from the wall next to the door. I run toward her house. I have manners so I knock on the door once, but I don’t hear an answer, so I kick it out with my foot in one go. I’ve been telling Mrs. Jenkins for ages that her door’s flimsy, and I’ve asked her to let me fix it on more than one occasion, but she’s a stubborn old lady. Looks like she’d foreseen the current disaster.
As soon as the door is out, the smoke comes out thick. The fire must have been running for a few good minutes. And then I hear a child shrieking.
My blood runs cold, and I rush toward the screams. But there’s no child in there, not at all. Only a tall, blonde lady running around Mrs. Jenkins’s living room, waving her arms and yelling like a banshee as smoke barrels out of the fireplace. I’m next to it in two big jumps, spraying the foam all over. I’m so glad I grabbed the extinguisher because Mrs. Jenkins never had one. Watching the smoke die down, I’m thankful the fire wasn’t a real house fire. This idiot must have started it without knowing how the fireplace works.Fuckin’ spoiled princess.
She keeps yelling, clutching her hands to her chest.
My head is killing me, and her shrieks threaten to break my skull in two. “Shut up!” I bark.
To my surprise, it works. She closes her mouth and looks around nervously with her big, blue eyes. Fuck me for noticing their color.
“Did you open the damper?” I growl.
“What?” she asks, finally shifting her attention from the fire to me. She’s crying, her face black from the thick smoke, with two clean paths down her face made by tears.
“Did. You. Open. The. Damper.” I accentuate every word like for an idiot, which she clearly is. My tolerance for stupidity has run out by now.
She whimpers. “What is a damper?”
Oh, fuck it. I turn to the kitchen, grab a few towels, and wrap them around my hands. Returning, I dive inside the fireplace.
“What are you doing?” She shrieks again. “You’re going to burn!” She makes a beeline toward me, but I’m already done. I open the damper, and the smoke flows up the chimney. It will get rid of it faster than if I just opened the door or the window. Chimneys are made this way, so the house won’t burn down. The ancient and trusty-as-shit technology is clearly wasted here on this ridiculous creature.
