Pulling my legs under me, I sit back on my heels and stare down at him. I slept through the night for the first time in years because Max rubbed my back when I started to wake up at midnight. Though a fairly innocent gesture, it’s also oddly intimate.
Embarrassed warmth floods my face, but a far stronger heat flames in my gut. “You rubbed my back to calm me down.”
Max shrugs again and his cheeks darken. “I thought it might be comforting.”
I mash the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Clearly it was. Um ... thanks. Thank you. I, uh, I’m going to go brush my teeth because ew.”
Scrambling out of the bed, I half-sprint, half-stumble to the bathroom. My whole body shakes as I lean against the counter, gasping. Desire swells to an absolute crescendo. It muddles my brain so bad my head swims and all the professionalism in me disintegrates.
“Get a hold of yourself, Fee,” I say in a whisper, glaring at my reflection. “You cannot maul him. He pet you like ... like a freaking cat. That’s not intimate. It’s something you do to a child having a nightmare. It was pity. Nothing more.”
This speech is complete and total B.S.
My skin flames as my imagination stirs up images of his hand on my back. Sensations ghost between my shoulder blades and down my spine. With a quiet growl, I crank the faucet and splash cold water on my face.
“Everything okay in there?” Max asks through the door.
“Be out in a minute.” I curl my toes into the cold tile, mentally cursing myself for the tremor in my voice, then force a painfully fake laugh. “Just not used to sleeping through the night like that. It’s got me off-kilter.”
That’s not a total lie, even if it does sound intensely lame. I focus all my powers of concentration on brushing my teeth, scrubbing with such ferocity my gums bleed a little, then change into my jeans and t-shirt. With a final scolding sneer at my reflection, I shove my toiletries into my backpack, then fling open the door.
My preplanned snappy comment dies before it even reaches my lips when I’m confronted with Max again. He grins and my professionalism pep-talk fades to the shadowy place at the back of my mind. The muscles just below my belly button coil up like live wires, burning with the same heat from before.
Smirking, Max crosses his arms, and leans against the doorframe, all swagger. “You sure you’re alright, mama?”
Face aflame, I grab my backpack, throw it over a shoulder, then march toward the door. “Never better. Ready to head to Houston?”
Max waves with a flourish. “Consider me your chariot. Though this time. Let’s make a few more pitstops for some water, huh?”
After we check out at the front, Max again takes my hand. New waves of pleasant goosebumps scatter across my skin at his touch. Soft and smooth, while at the same time firm, strong. I’m only able to enjoy it for a moment before that feeling like a rush of water closes over me.
I quickly lose count of the times we pause for Max to refuel. At each stop, as he guzzles sports drinks and the like, I eye customers with suspicion, certain that at any moment one of them is going to jump us. Apart from the occasional “howdy,” most folks ignore us.
I take over a few times, carrying Max as far as I can until my strength gives out. This only works so long as we have tree cover though. As the forests thin out, we’re forced to rely solely on Max’s water travel, which is much easier to do without calling attention to ourselves.
The ratio of purple LSU gear to maroon or orange Texas university gear shifts dramatically once we cross the border. While the gas stations contain ample cowboy hats, I don’t actually see too many of them on people’s heads. Wide swaths of pastureland full of grazing cows replace Louisiana swamps, massive state flags stream off the backs of pickup trucks, and the occasional slow moving tractor plods along the shoulder.
By the time we reach Houston, my nerves ache and my head pounds. We bamf back into solid form right in the middle of a small room with a cozy fireplace and mini kitchen. My mouth waters at the spicy sweet scent of BBQ and fries and coffee permeating the air.
Then my focus lands on a boy about our age bent over a sketchbook at a long wood table a few feet away from our landing spot. Fear pricks my skin as he lets out a choke of a gasp and nearly topples off the bench he’s sitting on. Black eyes bugging, the kid jumps to his feet and sprints toward us with a sort of serpentine grace.
Pulse racing, I clench my fists, senses on full alert. This kid is a vampire if I ever saw one. And a pureblood, at that, based on his features. This doesn’t make him necessarily stronger than the rest of his kind, but I’m not about to drop my guard.
When Max steps in front of me and lifts his hands, the other boy stops. “Max. You’re alive. What ... how...?” He threads his fingers through his sandy blond hair, then gestures at me. “Who’s this?”
“Good to see you alive too.” Max grins then pulls the other kid into a hug.
“Thanks to Case,” the kid says. “You should have seen her take down my dad with her magic. It was epic.”
With a final — albeit gentle — shoulder slap, Max steps back, a little misty. “You’ll have to tell me about it after we survive our mission to clear my name.” He flips a hand with that trademark flourish. “Fee this is Jeremy. A pureblood vampire, Chupacabra, Sigbin, Lilitu, whatever. Choose your urban legend designation. I prefer to call him a chupacorn because he’s so rare.” Jeremy’s cheeks flush even as Max rambles on, gesturing to me. “This is Fee. Phoenix, fighter, and epic bounty hunter.”
Jeremy flinches, fangs denting his lower lip.
Max continues quickly. “She’s helping me. It’s all complicated on all the sides. We’ll explain all the things later because right now we don’t have a lot of time. I need something from my room, then I need to find Elaxi.”
I can’t contain the stressed out laugh that busts out past my lips. Complicated is the biggest understatement of all time. There’s no possible way this jumpy kid is going to let this slide. I bounce a little on the balls of my feet, anticipating a bit of a verbal struggle.
Jeremy, however, simply kneads his forehead with his graphite-smudged fingers. “I have questions. Way too many of them. But they can wait if you’re in a rush. Come on.”
We follow him through one of the two doors on the other side of the table and into a small bedroom. Twin beds stand in the far corners separated by a chest of drawers. As Max digs under one of the mattresses, I study the space, gaze falling on a scuffed violin to my right. Reaching out, I touch the smooth wood, a part of me longing to hear music thrum from its strings.
“You should hear him play.” Jeremy says it in a whisper, but I still flinch in surprise.
Releasing a slow breath, I watch Max crouch to search under the bed. “He’s pretty good, huh?”
“He’s the G.O.A.T.”
I narrow one of my eyes. “Care to translate for a chick from the fae realm?”
Jeremy snickers. “Greatest of all time. When I first got here, I had a real bad case of insomnia. Nightmares and stuff. So, he’d play for me.” His cheeks flush from the bottom up. “Kind of sounds cheesy when I say it out loud, but it helped.”
“Not cheesy.” I shake my head, my back tingling where Max rested his hand last night. “I’m no stranger to insomnia. At some point you’ll do anything to get solid rest, to stop feeling like reality’s about to break.”
Twisting a loose string on the hem of his shirt around a finger, Jeremy hums. “You got that right.”
“Found it!” Max leaps up, holding a peeling book in the air.
“Perfect.” I whip my hand away from the violin and stuff it in a pocket. “Now let’s go find that witch friend of yours.”
Crossing the room, Max slaps Jeremy on the arm again. “Do me a favor, huh? Let Kia and Ash and the rest know I’m okay. I’d tell them myself, but like I said, I’m in a bit of a time crunch.”
“Wait.” I throw up a hand. The two boys look at me, both with similar expressions; brows hoping toward hairlines,
eyes a little wide. “If you tell them Max is safe, they might tell the Amazons, and if they stop chasing Yaritza, we’re in trouble.”
Max winces. “Good point, mama.” He claps Jeremy on the shoulder. “Think you can keep it under the lid for a little while longer?”
“No problem, man.” Jeremy’s gaze cuts to me, sharp and coal dark between narrowed lids. I almost back away from the intensity of his stare. “Keep him safe.”
I crack my knuckles with a thumb. “That’s the plan.”
12.
MAX BAMFS US FOR THE millionth time today, this time out of The Mercury Room and to a long block filled with mobile homes, all in various shades of shabby. The one we land in front of, however, is whimsically gorgeous. Wide windows span the long front porch of the tiny house, and windchimes fill the air with gentle song.
After so many hours of tension, the sound soothes my raw nerves, calms my racing heart. I scan the street for potential danger. Finding nothing but a pair of residents mowing their lawns, and a little girl walking a rat pretending to be a dog, I follow Max up the wood steps. He lifts a hand to knock but the glass door slides open before he can make contact. A woman with long dark hair and wearing an overabundance of gemstone bracelets smiles from the threshold.
She reaches out to cup Max’s face with both hands. “You’re here. And alive at that. What a pleasant surprise. And who is this young phoenix you’ve brought with you, love?”
My shoulder blades lock together as anxious nerves return to quiver in every muscle in my body. So far, Max’s people have been quick to listen to him, but with every new meeting that could change. Letting silly windchimes lull me into a false sense of safety is sheer foolishness.
“Elaxi, this is Fee,” Max says, again, wisely leaving out my occupation. “We need your help.”
Elaxi spreads her arms to include me in a wide embrace she uses to usher us inside. When we’re seated on a couch across from a red painted coffee table — and I’ve clocked all the exits, including the small window in the narrow kitchen we might be able to wriggle through in a pinch — she clasps her hands in front of her and asks how she can help.
Max holds out the cookbook with a sparkling smile. “We need to try and find the guy who used to own this. We’re not sure if he’s still alive or not, but if I remember right, that’s not a problem for you.”
“We think he might be able to clear Max’s name,” I say as Elaxi studies the cover. “Or at least help us head that direction. So, we can get the bounty called off him.”
Elaxi flips through the pages, the movement lifting a few strands of her bangs. “Mm, speaking with the potentially dead. Tricky. Most tricky. I’ll see what I can do. Open that drawer if you don’t mind, there should be some candles and matches inside.”
As I follow her instructions, Elaxi slides a thick curtain across the front window, then pulls a colorful cushion out from under the coffee table and sits on it, cross-legged. I light the wicks and the witch sets the book between the twin flames, palm placed on the cover. Eyes sliding shut, her lips move without sound.
Goosebumps tickle my skin as the temperature in the room drops a few degrees. A gentle breeze coasts through the room and the twin flames flicker. I flinch instinctively closer toward Max as a golden glow slips out from under Elaxi’s lids. His hand darts out to grab mine and I squeeze it back.
“The original owner of this book is no longer in this realm,” Elaxi says in an almost musical hiss. “Nor any realm in which the living roam. Joel Smith is dead.”
Max’s grip tightens and he slumps back on the couch with a strangled groan. “She killed him. I’m such an idiot.”
I lace my fingers through his, at a loss for how to comfort him. Though this might clear his name, and give Iris some answers and possible closure, it also likely means his mother is a murderer. Not an easy truth to accept for any child.
“He is with us now,” Elaxi says. “And willing to answer any questions you might have.”
“Max?” I look at the water spirit, who now slumps with his head in a hand.
He heaves a heavy sigh. “I don’t know ... I can’t think.”
“It’s okay. I can ask.” I sit up a little straighter and face Elaxi. “What happened with Aline Avila?”
With a strange wheeze, Elaxi’s head coasts to one side. “We were together for years,” she says in a much deeper, harsher register than before. “I fell in love the moment she walked into my cooking class. Or at least, I believed it was love. When I died, I realized that was all a lie. She manipulated me with her magic, then, one day, told me to leave. No explanation. She just said it was over.”
Max and I look at each other at the same time, then back at Elaxi. “She told you to leave?” Max asks. “She didn’t kill you?”
“No,” Joel says through Elaxi. “That was my own, unfortunate decision. She broke my heart, and I couldn’t handle it. I spiraled into depression, one I couldn’t pull myself out of. And then took my own life, an act I regret now.”
I scoot to the edge of the couch cushion. “I’m sorry to ask, but how?”
It’s a morbid question, but if he killed himself, then where in all the realms did his body go? And why hadn’t anyone found it? Though it’s been a few years, locating that might be another lead we can follow. Too bad we can’t scry on the dead.
Joel laughs through Elaxi, a slight, wry huff of a sound. “I jumped from a cliff into the ocean. At the time I thought it was poetic. Withdrawal from water spirit magic makes a man do crazy things.”
I groan and rub my forehead with a knuckle. The ocean. Perfect. Not like finding a body in something that vast is going to be a problem. Okay, slow down, Fee. Don’t spiral. This isn’t the end of all roads. Figure out the next thing.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” I ask. “Something that might help get your sister some closure? Like, did you leave a note, maybe? Or send Iris a message?”
“Unfortunately, no. If I’d been thinking more clearly, I might have written something for her, but at the time I didn’t make contact with Iris because I knew she’d try to talk me out of it and...” Elaxi shakes her head. “Will you tell her for me? Tell her I’m sorry.”
Max’s hand twitches in mine and he gags quietly.
I press a palm into the backs of his knuckles. “We’ll do our best. And if there’s anything else you can remember, anything that could help ... Did you talk to anyone after you left Aline?”
Rocking slightly, Elaxi’s face pinches, forming fine lines on her flawless skin. “Someone. A bar in Piracicaba called Machados I used to visit sometimes. I...”
A long sigh seeps out of Elaxi and she sways, catching herself on the edge of the coffee table. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost him.” She blinks at us. “I can try again, but I’ll have to rest in order to do so.”
Slumping forward, Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure we’re going to get much more information out of him. Even if he could remember who he talked to at Machados, it would be an insanely long shot to try and find them.”
“Unless it was the owner,” I say, fighting for any small glimmer of hope, anything more promising than attempting to find his mom. “Or maybe a bartender who still works there.”
Elaxi smiles. “That’s a fair point. I’ll see if I can find out whether or not that bar is still in operation. One moment.”
As Elaxi retrieves a laptop from the counter, Max stands, shoves his hands into his pockets, and strides out through the curtain and onto the porch. I jump off the couch and jog after him, pausing in the doorway to watch him pace. Max swings his arms with each step as if trying to get rid of nervous energy. At the railings he stops to claw his fingers through his hair.
I trace the point of one of my ears. “This is a good thing. At least now we know your mom didn’t kill him.”
“Didn’t she, though?” Max says, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “No, she didn’t drain him dry, but cutting him off that way is like forcing a m
eth addict to quit cold turkey without anyone to help them through the withdrawal. At the very least it was heartless.”
“But—”
Elaxi’s voice cuts through my sentence. “It’s still in business,” she says, sliding to my side, her laptop in hand. “I have the address, but it might expend less energy to call them. It’s up to you.”
I flick a strand of hair off my nose, but the wind nudges it right back and I give up. “What do you think, Max?”
Stopping his frenetic pacing, Max rubs circles on his temples, deep lines forming parenthesis around the corners of his mouth. He then drops his arms and sinks into a crouch. “I don’t know. Traveling between states is one thing, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to get us to another continent, not without a lot of rest stops. At the same time, I doubt a phone call will do. Especially not if they have some kind of physical evidence we can use.”
He’s right. Landing to rest too much increases our chances of getting caught but doing this via cell probably won’t be as effective as going in person. Besides, if we scope out Piracicaba, we might find others who’d met Joel or knew Aline. It could be worth the risk.
I squat down in front of him, elbows on my knees. “How far can you get us before you’re drained?”
Max laces his fingers together and presses his forehead into his knuckles. “After how far we’ve gone today? Probably somewhere in Mexico.”
“Then let’s get started. See if we can’t find a witness.”
“Leave me a number to get in touch,” Elaxi says. “I’ll try to make contact with Joel again once I’m rested. Consider me your line to the afterlife.”
Dragging a hand over his face, Max smiles up at her, his eyes still drooping at the corners. “Thanks, Elaxi. And keep watch. Apparently, every bounty hunter around is after me. If they find out you helped us, there might be trouble.”
“Don’t worry about me, love,” she says, touching his cheek again. “I have a few weapons stored up. Particularly after that Pukwudgie attacked last month. Hurry on now. And be careful, please. We all want you back in one piece. Everyone at The Mercury Room has been worried sick.”
Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame Page 11