Page 138 of Creatures that Breathe

Releasing Luke, I scramble forward alone and drop to my knees at her side. “Leni.” I reach out to touch her, blind and deaf and numb to everything but her gently trembling body.

No tattoos, no markings, no jewelry. Her hair is silver and straight as a blade, long down her back, glimmering and smooth. No necklaces, not a stitch of clothing, just pure, unmarked skin.

A broken sob wrenches from my throat.

White fire continues to dance around us, licking at my clothes, peeling off my flesh. I ignore the sear, let the embers carve toward bone as the one woman who’s always remembered me looks up at me with dull, lifeless eyes.

My world shatters.

My fault. This is all my fault. I failed to protect her, to save her.

“I’m so sorry—” I take her hand.

She throws herself back from me, shaking her head frantically and covering her chest with trembling hands. “D-don’t!” she stutters, wide eyed, body shuddering.

I feel myself pale. Every breath seems to stick in my throat.

A Phoenix can only remember pain.

And she’s had so much.

Tears slide off her face, faster, more than I can follow.

Numb, in a daze, I take off my blood-stained shirt and offer it to her. Hoping, pointlessly, it’ll spark a memory, bring her comfort.

All it does is ram a dagger into my heart. The sight of Leni wearing my shirt, her body small and fragile beneath it, cuts me viscerally.

She has no flicker of recognition.

I drown with memories. Emotions tumbling like rocks down a cliff side, crushing me wit their weight and roar.

Alive, but at what cost?

She opens her mouth, closes it. Her eyes dart between Luke and me before settling on me with a questioning gaze. “Who are you?”

The question slashes at the deepest part of me.

I’m mortal again, returning from war, gun strapped over my shoulder, exhausted, lonely, walking into my home expecting warmth and getting nothing.

My heart jolts painfully. I can’t breathe. Pressure clogs my throat. I almost can’t hold her stare.

Leni clutches my shirt to her body, the black and bloodstains disturbingly stark against her all white.

I groan as I lift one knee up. The bad one, hers, and fold my hands over it. Bow my head. “My name is Cross,” I tell her, hoarsely. I force down a tight breath. “And I vow to keep you safe.”

She stares at me, expression unnervingly blank, and I stay like that until her shaking stops.

In the ash, a second knee joins mine, Luke’s deep voice proclaiming, “I’m Luke and I vow to keep you safe.”

He bows.

And then a third knee lowers. A fourth. A fifth. Until nine of us are there, rejoining the fight.

36

Leni

a desert of ash and bone

---