Page 42 of Watch Me Burn

I don’t want to get trapped down in the caves. If it takes a little longer because my guide might be occupied, that’s fine. When the alternative is me plunging through another hole because the rocks gave way and I didn’t have his shifter’s sense to tell the difference between solid floor and the freaking entrance tohell, I can be a witch a little longer.

We walked back to Dyea together, making tentative plans to head out again tomorrow.

Conall waves once the sanctuary welcomes us ‘home’, jogging off in the direction of his house at the end of the oval while I head toward the back of mine and Elise’s.

There’s more yellow snow out there, I notice. I snort, then let it go. If that’s the only retaliation I got for pissing off Mr. Grump, I can deal with it, especially if he honestly believes he’s protecting our house by spraying wolf piss all over the place.

Letting myself into the house, my plan is to head upstairs where the shower is. I’m dusty, covered in I don’t know what, and I desperately need to get clean. However, when I call out for Elise and she doesn’t answer, that makes me curious.

Where is she?

I search the downstairs. No Elise. She’s not in the small kitchen, the living room with the television, or the bedroom she keeps on the bottom floor. Frowning, I jog up the stairs. No Elise in the bathroom or my bedroom.

Weird.

Instead of heading to the bathroom, I go back downstairs and plop down on the couch, hoping I don’t transfer too much of the cave muck onto the fabric.

I don’t have long to wait. About ten minutes after I made it back, Elise slips in through the front door.

She has more color in her cheeks than she did this morning which is one small plus. Her hair is pulled out of her face, tied back in a low burn, showing off her sharp cheekbones; already so small, she’s lost more weight than she could afford to since she hasn’t been able to drink.

Her fingers are tapping nervously against her upper thigh. She’s visibly distracted, not even noticing that I’m sitting in the room until I greet her.

She blinks, and while I could’ve sworn her eyes were red a second ago, they’re back to their usual pale green color when she glances over at me.

“Bridge. Hi. I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

I figured.

“Hey. Yeah. I finished up earlier than I thought.”

“Any good news?” she asks hopefully. “Did you find the fire opal?”

If I find the fire opal and it nullifies my fire magic, the witch hunters won’t come after me. I can leave Dyea. Elise can, too, and I can help her deal with Peter so that she can return to Clarity again.

She can go back to having easy access to blood again.

But until I have the fire opal, Ican’tleave. And Elise?

Shewon’t.

I shake my head, feeling even worse than before. “Not yet, but maybe tomorrow.” Then, changing the subject to her, I ask, “Where did you go? I was surprised when I came back and you were gone.”

Surprised and more than a little worried—and Elise knows it.

“Just for a walk.” A small smile. “I needed a little fresh air.”

That’s usually my excuse. Elise? Since our arrival, she’s rarely left the cottage. Mainly because she’s holding out hopethat Thorn will get the replacement cooler of blood to her that seemingly disappeared, and until she does, she knows better than to trust herself around someone she can’t drink.

The humans are taken. The other vampires won’t allow it. I’m off the menu. And the shifters… yeah. That’s not gonna happen, either.

But Elise… I know her. I’ve gotten to know her very well over the six months we’ve lived together, and though you could argue that I didn’t—since I had no freaking clue she was a vampire—I’d picked up on all of her quirks. I just couldn’t explain them since jumping to the supernatural wasn’t something I ever did.

And Elise islying.

I don’t know where she went. I don’t know why she left the cottage. Maybe she did need to go for a walk, but even if that’s true, she’s hiding something else from me.

I don’t want to call her out. She’s clearly struggling, and when I remember that she’s doing this for me, I owe her a little grace. So, rather than demand she tell me what’s really going on, I mention almost off-handedly, “Did you know that wolf shifters can smell it when someone lies?”

---