Page 1 of Ashes

1

NICO

THIRY-SIX HOURS AGO

The older guy—the polar bear with eyes like crystalized amber—pours me a whiskey. He pushes the glass toward me. It scrapes loudly against the wooden surface of the table I’m sitting at.

We’re in the kitchen of what looks like a mansion. Huge stone walls, old-fashioned windows, a fucking chandelier in the entrance hall.

The other guy is covered in congealed blood. He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking out at an illuminated fountain. His muscles are taut, his shoulders moving slowly up and down as he breathes.

“Luther—” The shifter puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gives him a whiskey too.

“Is she okay?” Luther asks, lowering his voice as if he’d rather I wasn’t in the room to hear the question. He has a shaved head and he’s well over six-foot. Taller, broader, and angrier than me. A kind of heat radiates from him. Fire mage if I had to guess.

“She’s okay. Tanner and Kole will look after her.” There’s a hint of something in the shifter’s voice… jealousy? Is that it? Not quite. More like longing.

I’ve been living my life as a charade for years; I’m adept at reading the thoughts people hide beneath the surface of their smiles or frowns or laughs.Nico Varlac. The celebrity. The do-gooder.

I shift in my seat. Thinking about the fire mage, the memory of Eve’s flames—flaying my skin—sends a heavy jolt of nausea to my stomach.

My father said it wouldn’t hurt. He lied.

As the shifter and the fire mage step outside, talking in hushed voices, I look at the birthmark on my wrist. More than the burns, it was the mark that convinced Nova I was her long-lost brother. Ironically, it’s the one thing that wasn’t false; I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. A blemish in the shape of a bird. I remember my mom kissing it when I was a cub, and I remember thinking it was neat that when I shifted it became a flash of white fur on my paw.

I down the whiskey in one then get up and pour another without asking. When the older guy returns, he extends his hand to shake mine.

“Mack,” he says. “Sorry we didn’t have time for pleasantries in the car.”

“Nico,” I reply, smiling awkwardly because my head is spinning so hard I’ve forgotten how I’m supposed to be feeling. “I’m sorry,” I say, looking at Luther as he ducks back into the room, bringing a wave of heat with him. “You’re probably wondering who the hell I am.”

“We know who you are,” Luther says, sitting down, legs open, leaning forward on his knees as he nurses his whiskey.

I chuckle and swipe my fingers through my hair. It feels strange, laced with smoke. I need a shower. “I guess so. I’m on TV a fair bit, huh?”

“Nova says you’re her brother.” Luther ignores what I said about being on TV.

“And you called her your sister,” Mack adds.

I nod. I’m gripping my glass tightly. My knuckles have whitened. Luther notices, so I relax my fingers and shrug. “Right. Sorry, I think maybe I’m in shock. This is all a bit…”

“Get some rest.” Mack gestures to the kitchen table for me to sit back down. Clearly, they don’t intend to offer me a room to sleep in. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

I swallow hard. Something about these two is putting me on edge. It’s like they can see inside me; like theknowI’m hiding something.

As I sit down, Luther purposefully takes something from his pocket and places it on the sideboard. “I’m going to clean this asshole off me.” He looks down at his blood-stained arms. Which asshole he’s talking about, I have no idea.

When he leaves, I allow my eyes to focus on the sideboard. Shit. A badge… fire mage is a cop.

* * *

When Luther returns, he and Mack sit opposite one another in silence. Exactly like cops. Cops guarding a suspect.

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair, slow my breathing, listen. When their breath slows too, and I’m certain they’re asleep, I sit up.

I wait.

I watch them.

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