Page 68 of Fire Touched

Prescott shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. The three of you, inside, now.’

Killian plants his feet. ‘No. I won’t run—’

‘Killian,’ Prescott growls, sounding very much like a protective father.

Killian meets his gaze. ‘No.’ He grasps Prescott’s forearms, calm. ‘No. If he has a problem with me, he’s in pain. Let me talk to him.’ He looks around him. ‘It’s the guy from the feast. My father did something. If I can’t fix it, I need to at least know what happened.’

Prescott turns to Verron, eyes wide, as they share some thought.

That’s when the alpha shouts, ‘Enough!’ He shifts into his wolf form, a mighty howl ripping through him, sending out a pinpoint earthquake directly to Timmen, which knocks the man on his back as though he were hit by a hurricane. Verron growls and closes the distance between them. He snarls, leering over Timmen, then shifts back into human form. ‘Your problem is not with our guests, and that night will not be relived.’ Over his shoulder, he snaps, ‘Take him to a cell.’

Haldreg moves forward and grips Timmen by the upper arm, though even from our place on the steps, I can hear him. ‘Come on.’ His voice is not unkind, but firm.

I’m starting to wonder if everyone remembers that night, eighteen years ago. If they all lost someone. If they all share even a small degree of hate and resentment for the outsiders they once welcomed into their home, only to be betrayed.

Verron stalks back up the stairs, his gaze meeting Prescott’s. ‘We speak no more of this. That’s an order, to all of you.’ He doesn’t wait for any agreement or argument, and storms past us.

In the distance, everyone retreats into their homes, snapping their doors shut. On us. On the pain they don’t want to face. I wonder if the children in those homes, in all of Terran, will share in their suffering. Then I remember Scott and Amy telling us they didn’t want to pass it on to Melody. But will it take a generation to forget what happened? To move on?

For a moment, everything feels strange. Surreal. I stare up at Killian, but he doesn’t have any answers. We turn to Prescott, but he raises his hands, shaking his head, and takes off after his alpha. When I look at him now, I try to picture a woman by his side, probably brunette, perhaps with Elijah’s green eyes. He lost his wife that night. How could anyone forget such a thing?

Though his anger was misdirected, I understand if not empathise with Timmen’s pain.

Killian’s face darkens. ‘Their wounds run deep. I have a bad feeling my father was involved.’

I blink up at him. ‘Just because he was here for the feast that night?’

Killian runs a hand down his face. There are shadows under his eyes and scruff on his jaw. He looks tired, haggard, as though the burdens Terran and its people carry are climbing onto his shoulders, too.

Ella sets a hand to Killian’s shoulders. ‘I’m glad you’re okay, but we need to find Carter.’ She doesn’t stop to explain, and takes off toward our temporary home. She races through the back door, shouting for Carter, but I catch at her arm.

‘Do you remember what Elga said?’ I stare at the door, hanging wide open.

Ella blinks. ‘Close and lock the door.’ For the first time, Ella swears, and pushes inside.

I look up at Killian. ‘I think Elga was trying to warn us about this, but we were distracted by the storm.’

Killian pushes through and locks the door behind us. ‘It’s not your guys’ fault.’

‘He’s here,’ Ella calls. ‘Upstairs!’

The house is a wreck. The floors are soaking wet and split open, the cracks stretching like dark veins through the floorboards, up the walls. Every piece of art is shattered on the floor. Every window is broken, spiderwebbed or destroyed.

Killian stares around. ‘You and Ella were here?’

I nod as we race up the stairs. I nearly gag when I see them, my hands clapping over my mouth.

Ella is holding Carter in her lap, though if I didn’t know it was Carter, I could hardly recognise him. Brown roots snake over his body, through him, brown and brackish, blood and sap oozing everywhere, his face and arms streaked in dirt. Carter’s eyes are closed, his fingers twitching, nerves set ablaze.

Ella’s cheeks are streaked with tears. ‘I don’t know what to do. What do we do?’

Carter groans in her lap, barely conscious.

I kneel before them, slipping slightly on the blood pooling under him. ‘I had no idea they could do this.’ I lean forward to get a better look. The roots have punctured his shoulder, wrapped around him tightly.

‘We cut them away.’ Killian runs downstairs and returns with three knives from the kitchen, handing one to me, one to Ella. ‘Come on, he’s losing a lot of blood.’

Sorry, Carter. We start cutting away at the roots. Thankfully, they do not grasp him or regrow. Who knew Earth Pack had such abilities? We pause as we get to the one which goes through his shoulder, the thickness of two fingers.

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