Page 106 of Roaring Flames

The Trinity?

My mind instantly conjures up images of a derelict church. A shiver of unease ripples down my spine.

Izzy grabs my wrists and begins to drag me towards the car, her eyes never leaving the six men and women surrounding us.

Dyson’s smile grows as if he finds her trepidation and suspicion cute.

Emery and Ethan wait until both Izzy and I are in the car before moving as well. Scowls mar their identical faces. Normally, they’re so easy to tell apart, but just now, in the darkness of the cab, I can’t identify who’s Ethan and who’s Emery.

“I’ll be seeing you guys soon. Real soon.” Dyson lifts his hand in a wave.

And he continues to wave until the darkness swallows him whole.

Forty-One

IZZY

“Explain,” I say to Ansel as soon as we pull out of the parking lot.

He looks distressed. Defeated. His shoulders slump, and a strand of brown hair falls forward, momentarily obscuring his right eye from view.

“I fucking knew it,” Emery says again. “I fucking knew it.”

I whirl to face him, my jaw clenching. “You did?”

Is this another secret he and the others kept from me?

What the fuck?

Emery’s hands clench around the steering wheel, and he flicks his gaze to me before immediately looking away.

He swallows. “I didn’t know for sure, I mean. I suspected.”

“You suspected that the boy I’ve been hanging out with is a supernatural and didn’t think to tell me?” Rage saturates my tone. As does hurt.

So much fucking hurt.

I feel as if someone took a meat cleaver to my body and sliced me open from throat to navel. I know I shouldn’t take all of this so personally, but it’s hard not to. It’s really fucking hard not to.

All of these lies are piling up on me, encasing me in a coffin of cement, and sooner rather than later, I won’t be able to escape. I’ll suffocate under the weight—if my oxygen supply doesn’t run out beforehand.

“We weren’t positive,” Ethan tells me from the back seat, his tone gentle. “But…”

“But at the football field when you were tackled, Ashton… He saw something.” Emery’s jaw clenches at the memory.

Phantom pain reverberates down my spine. There’s nothing quite like getting tackled by a two-hundred-pound, muscular football player.

Okay. That’s a lie. I wouldn’t mind getting tackled by certain football players, but that’s beside the point.

“What are you saying?” I demand.

My heart pounds in my chest. The noise is deafening. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire car can hear it.

Ansel’s voice is soft when he speaks next, practically a whisper. “I healed you.”

“What?” I once again whirl around to face him.

He leans forward, placing his head in his hands, and repeats, “I healed you. I used…magic to heal you.”

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