Page 101 of The Fire Went Wild

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I mean, I came out here looking for Edie, and I found her.” She pauses, eyes dropping back to the road. “I guess I found other things, too. Things I didn’t know I needed to look for.”

My belly clenches at that.

“Go to sleep,” she says. “We can talk later.”

Honestly, I’m glad she says that because I’m tired—as tired as she was last night, maybe—and I settle down in the backseat and close my eyes and then I’m out.

If I dream, even about my gods, I don’t remember it.

When I wake up the light is soft and hazy, everything cast in a kind of golden glow. Twilight. Charlotte’s listening to the radio, classic rock playing softly over the speakers, and she sings along, her voice sweet and clear. I groan as I sit up, and Charlotte yelps in surprise.

“Don’t stop.” I drape myself into the gap between the seats. “You have a nice voice.”

She glances sideways at me, a smile curling up her lips. “Thanks. Growing up in a church will do that for you.”

“So, where are we?” I squint out the windows, trying to get my bearings. Everything’s flat, and the sky’s the color of cotton candy. “In Louisiana already?”

“Yeah. About an hour away from your place, according to the GPS.” Charlotte nods at the passenger seat. “I stopped for food, by the way. There’s a cold hamburger waiting for you if you want it.”

“I slept through that?” I rub my face. That’s—not great, honestly. I’m a Hunter. I’m supposed to wake up instinctively if there’s danger.

Although I suppose Charlotte pulling into a McDonald’s drive-through doesn’t really count as danger.

I drag myself into the passenger seat, squishing my hamburger a little in the process. It’s still good, though, even if it has cooled down and stuck together. The fries are rubbery and greasy, although I eat those too. Wash it all down with the last of Charlotte’s watered-down Coke.

“I think you wore yourself out last night,” Charlotte says slyly.

“Who’s fault is that?” I say it without missing a beat. “You shouldn’t have been so hot.”

She laughs, and the sound is fucking gorgeous. Edie makes her laugh like that, but Edie’s her human best friend. That I could do the same?—

Well, it makes my chest feel tight and happy.

“You think I’m hot?” she says.

“Have I not made that clear?” I ball up the fast food bag and toss it in the back seat.

“You’ve never said it before.”

Charlotte’s teasing me. I think. I mean, she keeps glancing over at me, and she’s smiling.

“It was implied.” I honestly thought it was. I’ve done things with her I haven’t done any other woman.

She laughs again.

“You’ve never said it to me,” I snap back. Which surprises me, because I’m actuallynotconvinced Charlotte thinks I’m attractive.

“Oh, you’re definitely hot,” she says. “I thought it the first time I saw you in that diner.”

“Really?” I look at her in the falling light. Think about the things I’d like to do to her when we get back to my house.

“We should go back there,” she says. “That hamburger I got was phenomenal.”

“You’ll have to explain why you stuck around.” I settle back in my seat, watching the road stretch out in front of us. It feels good to be back in Louisiana. Florida’s a little too garish for my tastes. “How you wound up with me.”

“They don’t know what you are.”

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