Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Jake shook his head. “I can’t. Ralph has some information he wanted to—”

  I glared at him. “Can’t you let Jason talk to him? Or at least wait until the sun comes up, when you have some of your strength back? No offense, but you look like you’re about to fall over. You think you can keep going at this rate with your body trying to heal itself?” As I wrapped the clean gauze around his forearm, both his amusement and exhaustion flowed into me. “Can we at least go lie down for a little bit?”

  I struggled with the small role of adhesive tape but finally managed to tear a piece off. When I looked back up at Jake, his expression seemed part perplexed and part entertained.

  “What?” I asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

  He raised his eyebrows. “We?”

  “We what?” Then it hit me. Realizing what I’d said, I busied myself by taping down the bandage and putting the supplies back into the medical kit. “Well, you at least. I’m not trying to be obnoxious, but I really don’t feel like you’re taking this whole regenerating thing seriously. You’re not superhuman, you know.”

  Jake turned his shirt right-side out.

  “In all seriousness,” I added in his silence, “have you considered at all how much your Ability has changed you?”

  “What do you mean?” Exhaustion and pain getting the better of him, Jake struggled to lift his wounded arm.

  “Here,” I said, gently peeling the half-donned shirt back off of him. “We’ll get you a zip-up sweatshirt, that’ll be easier.” Jake sat there patiently while I manhandled him. “If your body regenerates itself, will you stop aging?”

  He chuckled weakly.

  I smacked his good arm. “I’m serious. You can’t die—”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said. “Just like your Ability has limitations, mine has to as well. I’m just not sure what they are, and I don’t really want to test any theories.” He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and I had to admit that it was too deep of a conversation for us to be having when he could barely keep his eyes open as it was. “Come on,” he said. He stood and, taking the kit out of my hand, set it on his chair and intertwined his fingers with mine.

  Without a word, I followed him to his tent. I’d never been in it before, and the thought of being in his private space with him was thrilling.

  He unzipped the door and stepped inside, guiding me in gently behind him. His tent was larger than the one I shared with Becca; ours was snug, barely fitting the two of us and our things. I was fine with it, though; it was what I was used to, and it made me feel safe. Jake’s tent, on the other hand, was big enough for four people, which I thought was sort of strange. It was only him, a single, open duffel bag, which his clothes were perfectly rolled and stacked inside, and his sleeping bag. Granted, it was actually two sleeping bags conjoined, but still. It seemed a big tent for one man.

  “Shoes off,” he said, standing slightly slouched by the entrance, which apparently served as his designated “shoe” area. “That’s my one rule,” he said. “And don’t try to get out of it. I’ll hold you to it this time.”

  I was confused. “Wait, what?” As far as I knew, we’d never once talked about a “no shoes in the tent” rule. But then I realized…he was talking about before. Surrendering, I toed off my tennis shoes and moved to the side, nearly able to stand up straight at the tent’s peak.

  Jake zipped the door shut and, favoring his right arm, lay down on the sleeping bags with a groan. I hadn’t realized there were two pillows until he wadded one of them up beneath his head.

  “One of the pillows is mine,” I thought aloud. I felt stupid for not making the connection earlier. The joined sleeping bags, the bigger tent—this wasn’t just his, it was ours.

  “Yep,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. The campfire outside, only a few yards away, brightened the inside of Jake’s tent enough for me to see how intently he was watching me.

  “And, let me guess, I don’t like the ‘no shoes’ rule.”

  A weak smile pulled at his lips. The firelight cast shadows against the tent’s blue nylon walls. The flickering light and dark made the brown stubble on Jake’s jaw glow then turn sable before it began glowing again.

  “No,” he finally said. “You don’t like my ‘no shoes’ rule.”

  I smiled. “I don’t think it’s so bad now.”

  He made a derisive noise and patted the area beside him. “You’re making me anxious standing over me like that.”

  “I need to get you a sweatshirt,” I said a little warily. I stepped over to his bag and stared at the items rolled and folded inside. “Since this is organized immaculately, I have a feeling you know exactly where your sweatshirts are.”

  “There should be one tucked in the right corner.”

  Just as he’d said, I felt the cool zipper against my fingertips and carefully pulled out a black, zip-up, hooded sweatshirt so not to mess up the rest of his clothes.

  “Here you go,” I said, lowering myself down to him. “You need to sit up, just for a minute. I’ll make it fast, I promise.”

  With a grunt, Jake sat up and held his injured arm out first. After I pulled the sweatshirt on as gently as possible, I helped him with the other sleeve, and then he lay back down. Lifting his good arm, Jake welcomed me to lie against him, and I automatically accepted his offer.

  My head fit perfectly in the crux of his arm, and I leaned into him, draping my arm over his middle. My entire body eased, the tension fleeing my muscles as I was consumed by Jake’s warmth. He smelled smoky, like campfire, and the faint sound of his heart was steady and reassuring.

  “What do I like?” I asked.

  A small smile pulled at Jake’s lips. “Well, you like sleeping with two pillows. At least you say that, but you only ever really use one. So I gave one of yours to Camille and Mase.” His voice was velvety.

  “Sneaky.” I smiled. “What else?”

  Jake’s hand drew languid circles in the middle of my lower back, and I felt my mind start to drift. “You like to leave your clothes all over the tent, and you never fold anything…not really, anyway. You claim it’s pointless.”

  I thought of the disarray my side of Becca’s tent was currently in. “What else?” I whispered.

  Jake was quiet a moment, and for a second I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke. “You hog the bed, and…”

  I peered up at him, the intensity of his gaze making my stomach flutter. Admiration and affection stirred within him, lulling as it passed over me like a warm blanket of promise and hope and safety.

  He was hesitant, scared even, to love me the way he once did, but for some reason, it didn’t upset me. Maybe I finally understood, or maybe it just didn’t matter anymore. Either way, he was trying. I could feel his vulnerability: longing—desire—uncertainty—wonder. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt, and I had to resist the urge to tell him that Gabe and I were working on a plan for me to get my memory back. I couldn’t bear to think about his disappointment if it didn’t work.

  “You also do this all the time,” he said, rubbing his sock-covered feet against mine. “Every single night, you rub your feet against the bottom of the sleeping bag until they finally find mine…and then you fall asleep.”

  I glanced down at my feet, which were tangled with his, and realized how deeply I could fall in love with Jake. It wasn’t his emotions or guilt making me feel obligated this time, and it wasn’t a looming pressure to be someone I no longer was. It was a simmering love I’d felt since the first moment I saw him, the sad man standing in the doorway of the abandoned house.

  Propping myself up on my elbow, I leaned in without hesitation and kissed him, more fervently than the last time. I wanted Jake to know how I felt, wished I could share with him the feelings he, unbeknownst to him, had shared with me.

  “I love you,” I whispered against his mouth, not wanting to let another moment pass without him knowing how I felt.

  Afraid to open my
eyes, to see his reaction illuminated on his face, I kept them closed and pressed my lips to his once more. “I love you,” I repeated.

  Ignoring his pain, Jake pulled me closer with his injured arm, his kiss tender and his body exuding waves of unmistakable relief.

  17

  DANI

  APRIL 29, 1AE

  Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada

  I “woke” with a groan. I hadn’t been sleeping; I’d been stalking squirrels with some bobcats. And I’d meant to be sleeping.

  I’d essentially passed out in the wee hours of the morning, intent on remaining asleep and resting my mind and not drifting into any animal minds. But I had drifted, and because my subconscious had been in charge when I left my body, I’d drifted from creature to creature like a sleepwalker, unwilling, or possibly unable, to return to my body by choice.

  Jason trailed his fingertips over the sensitive skin on the side of my neck, giving rise to goose bumps. I could feel the heat of him close against my side despite the two insulated layers of sleeping bags separating our bodies.

  “Good dream?” he asked.

  Opening my eyes, I stared up at the green nylon canopy of our tent and frowned. “I…I can’t remember,” I lied, glancing at him. He was lying on his side, his head resting on his curled-up arm. “Why do you ask?”

  Jason’s piercing blue eyes held a hint of the sparkle that usually accompanied a smile. “You were hard to wake.” He rolled onto his back.

  I forced a smile and shrugged. I hadn’t been having a good dream—or any dream—because I hadn’t even been asleep. But I didn’t want to worry Jason or anyone else with such a minor problem compared to what had just happened the night before. Ben was dead, Ky was who knows where, and one of the mares had a bad gash on her rear that Harper feared would become infected. And I’d led the horses in what could easily be called a slaughter-by-stampede. Suddenly, child-murderer and liar didn’t seem to be the worst things I could be called.

  I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face, wiping away the crusty sleep in the corners of my eyes. “I need some fresh air.” I crawled out of my sleeping bag and toward the tent door.

  “Wait,” Jason said when I had the top part of the flap unzipped.

  I glanced back at him.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  His eyes trailed down the length of my body, zeroing in on my butt. The attention to my nether parts made me notice the draftiness around my lower half. I’d fallen asleep in only one of Jason’s tshirts and my underwear, and that was still all I had on.

  The blush started on my chest and burned its way up my neck. I cleared my throat and shot a cursory glance around the tent before I remembered that we’d had to burn the sweatpants I’d been wearing the previous night because they’d been soaked through with blood…and bits. Which sucked so much more because they were my last pair.

  “Here,” Jason said, reaching for something on his side of the tent. He handed me a pair of black leggings. “Camille gave these to me after you conked out…thought you might need ’em.”

  “Oh…” I took the soft, stretchy pants. “Thanks.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Thank Camille.”

  “I will.” I pulled the leggings on quickly, then fished a pair of clean socks out of my duffel bag and wiggled my feet into my boots, which were much cleaner than they’d been when I’d removed them earlier that morning. “Did you clean these?” I asked, noting that the combat knife had been replaced in the boot sheath.

  Jason nodded.

  I offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  He held my gaze, not returning my smile. “You scared the shit out of me last night.”

  I licked my lips. “I know.” I’d scared the shit out of myself, too.

  “Your eyes…” He shook his head. “They were different. You were different.”

  I looked down at my hand, watching my fingers toy with the leather at the top of my boot. When I spoke, my voice was quiet. “I know.”

  And I did know; I’d been less like me, and more like them.

  ~~~~~

  “Excuse me, um, Dani?” Ralph, a.k.a. prey, said from behind me.

  I was perched on a rock at the edge of the creek near camp. The afternoon sun shone high overhead, but its rays couldn’t warm the part of me deep inside, chilled with fear over what I was becoming. I glanced over my shoulder as I heard Ralph’s footsteps draw nearer.

  “Do you mind if I join you? I thought we might have a little chat sometime before you and your people continue on your way.”

  Widening my eyes, I brushed my palm against my borrowed leggings and bit my lip. I wanted to talk to him and had been planning to hunt him down later. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

  Ralph smiled, bowed his head, and crossed the creek. He sat on a rock a little larger than mine and scratched his graying beard.

  I picked up a small handful of pebbles and started tossing them into the water one by one. “So…what’d you do to get on their bad side?”

  “Scott and his pack?”

  I met Ralph’s eyes for the briefest moment. “Yeah.” I hadn’t known the leader’s name, Ray’s killer’s name—hadn’t wanted to—and now I felt like even more of a murderer. So much for vengeance being sweet…

  “Existed,” Ralph said bitterly. “Me and my son, Bobby—he was a drifter, too—we came out here after we realized how much we’d changed. I’ve had a cabin in the area for years, and living in a place secluded from people but teeming with animal life…” He shrugged. “It just felt right.”

  I nodded, finding that I could relate a little too well to what he was saying.

  “Scott caught wind of us a few weeks back and wanted us to join his ‘pack,’ but Bobby and me didn’t like the way their minds felt, especially not Scott and the other drifter in the pack.” He squinted up at the sun. “Like they weren’t quite human anymore. We thanked him and passed on his offer and returned to our new, secluded way of life.” He lowered his gaze, his warm, brown eyes meeting mine. “We’d already noticed the changes in ourselves when we drifted too much, and we decided it was time to use some restraint before we ended up turning into wild men like Scott and his pack.”

  I swallowed roughly. This was exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to talk about…that I was terrified to talk about.

  Ralph sighed and shook his head. “But it was too late for Bobby. He couldn’t stop. Every time he went to sleep, he ended up drifting, and every day, instinct ruled him just a little bit more…until about a week ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “He disappeared, and I found him two days later…at the base of a cliff.”

  “Was he, um…”

  Ralph raised his eyebrows. “Dead?” He nodded slowly.

  “Scott?”

  He continued to nod. “He didn’t mind us so much when we hadn’t ‘fully embraced the gift,’ as Scott liked to say, but once Bobby had, Scott claimed that he couldn’t allow a competitor in his territory.” Ralph sighed. “And then he decided his pack needed some entertainment, so they started hunting me.” He flashed me a weak smile. “When I felt your mind, I knew you’d be my only chance…that Scott wouldn’t be able to resist the pull of a female drifter.”

  I scowled, and when I spoke, my voice was flat. “So I was meant to be a diversion.”

  “I hate to admit it, but yeah.” He frowned. “But here you were with an army of humans and animals…couldn’t have guessed that.” His head tilted to the side. “Your connection with the creatures is different—deeper—and they trust you more, seem to genuinely care about your well-being, even accept you as one of their own, where they just tolerate the rest of us drifters playing at being a part of their kingdom. But then, it’s not like I’ve met many of us, and you’re the first female drifter I’ve met, so…” Again, he shrugged. “Makes sense that that sort of thing would matter to the animals.”

  A harsh laugh esc
aped from my throat. “Great…so when I turn wild, I can frolic around with all my animal friends and be their lady Mowgli. Awesome.”

  Ralph studied me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “So it’s started for you, too, then, has it?”

  I nodded. “Last night—or this morning, I mean—was the first time.” Another humorless laugh and shake of my head. “Went to sleep and woke up drifting.” I stared across the creek at him, pleading with my eyes. “Do you know how to stop it from happening?”

  Frowning, Ralph shook his head. “Once that starts happening, it seems to be inevitable that you’ll, well, you know…change.”

  I blinked, and a few tears escaped over the brim of my eyelids. “I don’t want to change; I want to stay me.” I hugged my middle and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I wish I could tell you how to manage it, but it seems that’s something each of us has to figure out on our own. The best two pieces of advice I can give you are these: you’ve got to want to stop drifting with every fiber of your being, or else that part of you that takes over when you sleep is going to keep pushing you out into the critters—and you have to stop, now. If that means you try not to sleep for days, then you try not to sleep for days. Maybe the compulsion to drift will lessen the longer you go without doing it. Maybe…”

  I took several deep breaths, trying to collect what little remained of my tattered composure. My voice shook when I spoke next. “I see.” I was terrified, because I knew that a part of me never wanted to stop drifting, and I had no idea how to convince that tiny, stubborn part of me to give it up.

  Sometimes, I really hated myself.

  ~~~~~

  Standing beside Wings, I took a tiny bottle of caffeine pills out of my saddlebag, opened it, and shook a pill out to pop into my mouth. For the fifth time today. I hadn’t even tried to sleep the previous night, and even with the aid of the caffeine pills I’d lifted from Harper’s medical supplies while everyone was fussing over a returned and repentant Ky, I’d almost succumbed to the pull of sleep three times during the day’s ride; the resulting imminent fall could have been devastating.

  I dry-swallowed the caffeine pill, then tucked the bottle back into the saddlebag, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching me. At least we were done traveling for the day, so I wouldn’t have to risk sliding out of the saddle for another twelve hours. Of course, that also meant I had to get through my second consecutive night of resisting sleep.