Ignited

by Corrine Jackson

  He leaned over. His entire body tensed a second later and his eyes shot to mine. He whispered, “Son of a bitch,” echoing my earlier sentiment in the conservatory.

  “Who is it?” Asher asked.

  “The Duboises,” I said. “And Camille and Martin Dubois gave birth to a daughter, Elizabeth Dubois.”

  I braced myself, waiting for the uproar and the explosion of outrage. Nothing happened. The room fell into total silence. I shifted in my seat, lifted my fork up, and then set it back down again. This wasn’t what I’d expected.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Who the heck is Elizabeth Dubois?” Erin asked, confused.

  “Only one of the most powerful Healers we’ve ever heard about,” Asher said.

  He left out all of the important details about Elizabeth’s very direct impact on his family. I dared to lift my eyes to his. Blame, anger, disappointment: any of those emotions I would have expected, but I saw evidence of none of them. Asher’s gaze was calm and clear.

  “Don’t look like that,” he told me. I realized I must have looked terrified. “Remy, it’s okay. To be honest, it makes sense. Your powers are off the charts. You could only be descended from a powerful Healer, and Elizabeth was one of the most powerful that we knew of.”

  “Aren’t you at all creeped out by the coincidence?” I asked them. Because I was.

  “No,” Gabe said. “There are only so many families. We were bound to know your ancestors. And it’s not like we’re going to hold you responsible for what some relative of yours did a hundred years ago.”

  I’d pumped myself up for their outburst, and their non-reaction left me nonplussed.

  “I don’t know. I kind of want to kill her now,” Lottie said. Every head turned, and she laughed, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m kidding, people. I think we’re past that.”

  She began clearing the table, and that signaled the end of the conversation.

  After dinner, everyone but Asher and Lucy headed to the basement to watch—wait for it—more Doctor Who. I sank into one corner of the couch and could have hugged Erin when she planted herself beside me, effectively blocking Gabe. My smile of relief came too soon, though, because he sat on the floor by me, using the couch arm as a backrest.

  His shoulder bumped my knee more than once, and it could have been an accident. I believed that right up until his hand slid over the top of my bare foot, his thumb brushing my instep. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Erin sent me an odd look. I tucked my legs under me, putting my feet well out of Gabe’s reach. The second Erin’s attention returned to the TV, I shoved Gabe’s shoulder. He glanced at me with a wicked smile, and I scowled.

  Then his phone rang. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out to check the screen. Lottie silenced the TV when he held up a finger. He gave a warning glance around the room and answered the phone on speaker.

  “Miranda, hi.”

  “Gabriel,” a female voice drawled. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything.”

  The Protector’s tone was loaded with innuendo. I raised my brows when Gabe’s cheeks flushed pink.

  “Not a thing. Everything’s okay, I hope?” he asked.

  “Spencer and I are fine. It’s you we worry about. Are you in trouble, dear?” she asked.

  Gabe paused. “Now, why would you ask that?”

  “Well, you and Lottie show up here without Asher, you won’t tell us where you’re staying, and there are rumors. Rumors about the Blackwells and a Healer girl. You’re keeping things from me, Gabriel. I’m hurt,” she said in a pouty voice.

  Was this woman for real? Of course, they’d heard about me. That wasn’t really a surprise at this point. But how would Gabe handle direct questioning from a longtime family friend?

  He laughed. “No, you’re not. We all have our secrets. It comes with the territory of who we are.”

  “Yes, but your secrets have landed at my doorstep.”

  Lottie pressed forward in her armchair. Erin leaned over to whisper to her, but Lottie’s green eyes narrowed. She pressed a finger to her lips and watched Gabe.

  He sounded less calm than before. “What do you mean?”

  “A package was delivered to the house for you. The messenger was that fellow Xavier that we told you about. You never mentioned that you knew him.”

  She didn’t sound accusatory, but Miranda didn’t sound trusting, either.

  “We only met in passing,” Gabe told her. “I wouldn’t say I know him.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. He had once pretended to be Xavier’s ally in order to rescue me from the torture the Protector was inflicting on me at my grandfather’s request. Another of Franc’s tests, though I hadn’t known it at the time.

  “Well, he knows you. Word has gotten around that you were at our house, and he asked where you’d gone.”

  “And you told him . . . ?” Gabe’s voice tapered off with a dangerous note.

  “I told him the truth. We had no idea where you’d gotten to.” Silence stretched on for a moment, and she added, “I know you’re not suspecting us of betraying you. That would be an insult among friends, and we are friends, are we not?”

  “We are,” Gabe said in a soft tone that matched hers. “I’m sorry, Miranda.”

  “Never mind, dear. Spencer thought it best he meet you somewhere to deliver the package. It might not be a good idea for you to come ’round the house anytime soon. There seem to be a lot of eyes on us all of a sudden.”

  Lottie grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something on it before shoving it across the coffee table toward Gabe. He read it and nodded.

  “Have him meet me at the police call box outside the Earl’s Court Tube Station. I’ll be there in two hours.”

  Miranda agreed, and they hung up. Lottie and Gabe wasted no time. They both rose and started for the stairs, talking at a million miles an hour.

  “Stop.” I didn’t raise my voice, but Gabe looked at me. “I’m going with you, Gabe.”

  I thought he would argue, but it was Lottie who spoke up. “Is that wise, Remy?”

  I gave her a half smile as I stood. “We all know that package is meant for me. I’m not going to let you both walk into danger while I sit on my hands.”

  She considered me for a moment and seemed to make a decision. “In that case, I’ll stay here and keep the Healer company.”

  “My name is Erin,” Erin muttered.

  Lottie smiled, and I guessed she’d purposely teased Erin to put the girl at ease. Both girls moved to the sofa, and Lottie picked up the remote as they argued about Lottie’s manners. That was the last I heard as I ran to my room to grab shoes, a knit cap, and a jacket. I was shoving my hair under the cap when I met Gabe in the entrance hall.

  “Is that your idea of a disguise?” he asked, tugging on an escaped strand at my cheek. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” he said grimly, taking my hand and opening the front door. He wore the same jeans and T-shirt he’d had on downstairs, plus a black jacket.

  I stared at his back and trailed him down the street. Rather than walk to a car, we continued on to an entrance with a blue and red sign that said UNDERGROUND. “We’re taking the Tube?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It’ll be faster that way.”

  It turned out that the London Underground wasn’t that different from New York’s subway system. If anything, the London system was easier to navigate, and Gabe obviously knew what he was doing. The other difference was the polite voice telling people to “mind the gap” as they stepped on and off the train.

  On the crowded train, Gabe grasped a blue pole that ran from ceiling to floor in order to stay balanced while standing. He pulled me into his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder to shelter me from a rowdy group out to have fun on Friday night. I didn’t fight him, and we didn’t speak. My mind had begun to spin possibilities about what could be in that package. Franc had sent it, obviously, with Xavier as his messenger. It would contain a warning of some kind, I was sure, but what k
ind? My stomach lurched when the train stopped twenty minutes later.

  Gabe held my hand again as we climbed the stairs. At some point, we stopped and he said, “Spencer is a good friend, but don’t give him any info that we don’t have to. We want to keep him out of this, and while he might not hunt Healers, I want you to be on your toes. Guard up, okay?”

  I realized I’d forgotten to raise my mental walls, a common occurrence around Gabe. I took care of that, and we exited the station. Like Gabe, I glanced around, staring into the shadows to see if someone lurked there. Everyone seemed to be going about their normal day, not paying any attention to us. Then my gaze lit on the police call box that sat a short distance from the station entrance: a blue police box like the one that was used as a time machine in Doctor Who.

  “Did Lottie really pick the Doctor’s Tardis as our meeting place?” I asked in a wry voice, watching a tourist in a Doctor Who T-shirt pose for a picture in front of the structure.

  Gabe sent me a quick smile as he continued to scan the area. “I thought the choice was inspired, myself.” He straightened with sudden awareness. “There’s Spencer. He’s alone.”

  Spencer looked up as we approached and smiled at Gabe, huge dimples forming on either cheek. A tall man who appeared to be in his thirties, Spencer had blond hair and hazel eyes. Neither handsome nor unattractive, he would not stand out in a crowd, except for those awesome dimples. Gabe didn’t let go of me when Spencer hugged him, and I shifted my weight awkwardly until they stepped away from each other.

  “So you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Spencer said to me with a quizzical smile. His accent sounded straight out of Pride and Prejudice. I felt a hint of energy that wasn’t Gabe’s drifting in the air, but I kept my face expressionless.

  “Spencer . . .” Gabe warned him.

  The Protector held up both hands. “Can’t blame me for being curious. I’ve never known the Blackwell boys to act so secretive.”

  “I’m sorry for your trouble,” I said sincerely. It had never been my intention to come between the Blackwell family and their friends. “You mentioned there was a package?”

  He slipped a small, white jewelry box out of his coat pocket and passed it to me. He gave me a quizzical look. “The man who dropped this off isn’t the type to mess with. I don’t know what you all are mixed up in, but you need to be careful.”

  “We will,” Gabe promised.

  Spencer waved at us. “Go on now. As curious as I am about you, Healer, it’s not safe out here in the open. No doubt they were using that box to draw you out.”

  My head whipped up when he called me Healer, but Spencer was already walking away. He climbed into a waiting black cab. When the car passed us, I saw a woman was with him in the backseat. A stunning woman with red hair, high cheekbones, and full lips. She waggled her fingers in a wave, and then the car drove off. Gabe gripped my elbow and pulled me back into the Underground station.

  “Was that Miranda?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I should have figured she’d be here. They never go anywhere if they aren’t together. Most likely, she was acting as backup in case there was trouble. They have always been very protective of us.”

  I thought about that, running my fingers over the box that I’d slipped in my jacket pocket. I was glad that the Blackwells had Spencer and Miranda to watch out for them. I wished that my presence hadn’t affected their relationship.

  We didn’t take a train straight back to Chapel Street. Gabe wanted to take a circuitous route in case someone had managed to follow us from the meeting. I went along with his plan in silence, relieved to have him with me while I was lost in my thoughts.

  Three trains later, Gabe guided me to a seat and finally prodded me. “Is not opening the box worse than opening it?” I stared up at him, and he tilted his head. “You’re torturing yourself, Remy, with what might be in it. Just open it, and get it over with.”

  I glanced around. We were alone in the train car. Dread filled me as I took the box from my pocket. With a quick intake of breath, I pulled the lid off and then promptly wanted to throw up when I saw the contents. It was the bloody tip of a finger.

  Gabe took the box from me as I doubled over, choking on tears. Was my father dead? What had they done to him?

  “Remy, it’s fake, sweetheart. It’s fake.”

  His voice finally penetrated the horror that consumed me. I sat up straight, staring at him blankly. He brushed the hair from my face, his expression worried.

  “It’s not my father’s?” I whispered.

  He shook his head. “No. It’s a very real-looking prop that was meant to scare you.”

  I laughed without humor. “It worked.” I breathed for a second, trying to calm myself. Franc was a total bastard to do that to me. “Is there a note?”

  “Here.”

  He handed me a folded slip of paper. I opened it and read the short message.

  This is the last warning you get, granddaughter. Give yourself up.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next morning rage still flowed through my veins. My grandfather had left a phone number on the note, as if I would immediately call him and turn myself in. Hold your breath, Franc. Please. Gabe and I had shared the contents of the package with the others when we returned. Lottie had alerted Asher and Lucy by then, and they had all waited up until we got back. I’d made sure that Lucy hadn’t seen the fake fingertip, not wanting her to be more upset than she had to be. The group had gone to bed unsettled and oddly quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts about the escalated violence that the note seemed to warn was ahead.

  After a quick breakfast of cereal, I headed into the kitchen to wash my dishes. Like a coward, I considered running to my room and hiding out there because I had a feeling that Gabe wanted to talk. There were things to be said after how we’d left things five days ago, and last night hadn’t been the time to go into them. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do about him. Until that scene in the wine vault I’d never thought of him in that way.

  Liar.

  I scrubbed my bowl in frustration and used my shoulder to shove back a piece of hair that had fallen out of my French braid. Okay, maybe I’d always noticed Gabe—how could I not when he looked the way he did?—but that hadn’t meant anything. I’d admired him in a distant kind of way, the way I’d notice a pretty statue. Yeah. He was David or some other Greek statue. In fact, I hadn’t liked him all that much, and then he’d gone and become a good friend. The kind of friend who held your hand during a crisis. I scrubbed the dish a little harder. Everything had changed, and this was his fault. Gabe had started me down this path with his talk of wanting me for himself. What was a girl supposed to say to that?

  “I think that dish is clean.”

  I dropped the bowl and splashed water up the front of my shirt. “Damn it, Gabe.” I shoved my elbow into his side as he appeared at my side.

  He reached around me to shut off the faucet, wearing an unrepentant smile. “You should practice using your Protector senses more often. If you’d had your walls down, you would have heard me coming.”

  He handed me a towel, and I wiped my hands dry. “If I had my walls down, you would hear what I was thinking.”

  “It’ll be rough, but for you, I’m willing to take that risk.” He put a hand on his heart, looking the picture of piety.

  I snorted. “I’m sure you are.”

  We worked together to dry the clean dishes and put them away. Our hips bumped as we moved, and my pulse kicked into gear as if a gun had gone off at a race.

  “Nothing has changed for me.” His low voice tripped along my nerves, and I stilled at his sudden gravity. “I meant what I said five days ago.”

  Yet, he’d said what he had and then left for days without a phone call. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.

  “Because I wanted to give you time,” he said.

  The way he answered my thoughts so easily, shoving through my barriers, unnerved me, and I jumped when he
shoved away from the counter to face me. My head spun when he reached for my hand and tugged me in his wake. A door opened off the kitchen to a room that I hadn’t been in before. He pushed me in ahead of him and shut the door behind us, closing us in. I had two seconds to glance around and see that we were in some kind of utility room before Gabe’s hands landed on my waist and he lifted me off my feet, planting me on a counter. He hadn’t turned on a light, and the room had no window, but I could see his face, half-hidden in shadows. His hands landed on my knees, and a shiver started there and worked its way up.

  “Gabe . . .”

  “Do you remember the last time we were like this?”

  I nodded, feeling towed under by a wave of emotions that I didn’t understand. Last September, we’d been together like this in the Blackwells’ kitchen, the night before Gabe left. That night, he’d pushed me. He’d wanted to know if I could have loved him instead of Asher if I’d met him first. Now Gabe said, “Tell me you’ve thought about what I asked. Tell me you’re willing to give me a chance.”

  I sucked in a breath when his hands slid up my thighs to grip my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin through my jeans. I’d been so sure that I could avoid this, that I could shove these emotions down. I’d been wrong. My hands latched on to his forearms, and my knees pressed into his waist. If my intention had been to push him away, I failed miserably, and it terrified me how easily I found myself giving in to whatever this was between us. I stared into Gabe’s eyes, utterly caught, but when he tipped his head to kiss me, I stopped him at the last second.

  “We can’t do this.” It hurt to say the words with his lips hovering so close. Gabe’s eyes took on a tortured look, and I touched his cheek, feeling the rasp of whiskers under my palm. “This isn’t right. We’re not these people who sneak around.”

  “You feel something, Remy. I can hear it in your thoughts.”

  I didn’t answer. His jaw worked as he stared over my head, and it was a long moment before he seemed to give in. His head dropped to my shoulder, and I couldn’t resist the urge to wrap my arms around him. My fingers slid into his hair, and I sighed at how soft the strands felt. A moment later, his arms wrapped around me, and my thighs slid open so he could stand between them. My chin rested on his shoulder and it felt so good to be held. It went no further as we stood there leaning on each other with our breathing the only sound in the room. I wasn’t ready for more than this, and Gabe didn’t push me. Every time I’d asked him, he’d been there for me. Sometimes, he’d been there even when I’d fought needing anyone. He’d given me so much without asking for anything in return.