Scorch Song

by Casey Hays

  My heart seems to falter in its beating when he says this. The breeze whips at my loose strands of hair and tugs at the neckline of my tee-shirt, and I just study him. He took all the thoughts marinating in my brain for the past week, and all the emotions roiling under my skin, and put them into words.

  He doesn’t give me the chance to resist, if that was even my plan. I’m really not sure. But he scoops me into his arms and flies off the building, straight toward the sky and so fast that every bit of the air is flushed out of my lungs. I gasp, taking it back in with a huge gulp.

  We soar higher, above the clouds, and once I acclimate to the atmosphere, I sense the heat of my body working to keep me warm. To keep me breathing. To keep me calm. Like before, it’s amazingly beautiful, but this time, a huge city spreads before us, twinkling with nighttime energy.

  “If this is what you wanted to show me, I’ve already done it.”

  “Not with me. And not like this.”

  He swoops down low over the tops of a line of buildings, then eases up, bursting into flames and jetting toward the sky in a trail of fire. We pick up speed and my excitement rushes to my toes. I grip him, melding into his fire, holding tight as we race over the city at full blast.

  He brings us down again, over a highway with moderate traffic. At this point, I’m fully aware that there’s a decent chance we’ve been seen. Completely uninhibited, Rylin glides low. And I’m sure we’ve been seen when a couple of cars come to an abrupt halt and the drivers climb out to stare up at us in confusion. We zoom past in a fuzzy, orange blur. Maybe that’s all they see.

  Finally, he slows, gliding over a portion of a beautiful park full of trees and bushes and tall bushy grass. In my natural form—even in the dark—I can make all of it out, even a pond full of koi.

  “What is that place?” I ask

  “Washington Park, I believe.” He looks closely. “Yep. That’s Portland Japanese Garden right there.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Rylin hovers, holding us in place. He pulls his legs downward, and I think he’s preparing to touch down when his wings cease their fluttering. He doesn’t. He shoots straight up through the clouds, pushing through the air. I hold my breath until he comes to a quick stop. He folds his wings… and they vanish.

  I tense, tightening my hold on him. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  He grins; I fight off the urge to look down, certain at any moment we’ll begin a fast hurtle to the ground. We aren’t moving; we’re just floating in thin air—without wings, mind you—watching the tiny wisps of clouds float by in the black night. I’m kind of freaking out on the inside. I stare at him in astonishment.

  “It’s not our wings that keep us levitated,” he explains. “They’re only good for flying.”

  He loosens his grip on me, just slightly; I tighten up.

  “What are you doing?”

  I don’t wait for his answer. I hike my legs up around his waist and hold on for dear life. When Rylin’s grin widens an inch, I know just how much he’s enjoying this. He has me trapped against his bare chest. That’s it. He planned this.

  “Okay. I’ll play along.” My thin breath makes my voice feel super tiny. “What keeps you levitated?”

  With one hand, he manages to unhook my arms from his neck and drag them downward, encircling my wrists with his fingers. I panic all over again. I’m going to slip, or he’s going to drop me. Or both. Either way, I’ll be spinning through the clouds to my bitter end. They’ll find my body splattered across one of the beautiful landscaped knolls of Portland Japanese Garden, and no one will be able to identify me.

  “This is insane,” I whisper. “Bring back your wings and get us down.”

  “Calm down.”

  “Calm down? Are you kidding me?” I chance another peek at the ground. My legs are cramping. “This does not feel safe.”

  “Can you hear your mantra?”

  I freeze, fixed on his face as the question penetrates my mind. His eyes blaze back at me, a half-grin revealing white teeth shaded in orange. He lifts a smoldering brow. I focus, finding the faint sounds of my mantra where I’d left it resting in the back of my brain.

  “Yes.”

  He nods. “Good. Because this is how we levitate.”

  “What do you mean this is how we levitate?” In my shock I revert back to speaking—in English. “Are you saying I—I can do this?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Carefully, he pries my legs from his body, and I take advantage of his release on my wrists to weave my arms back around his neck. I don’t even care about our close proximity at the moment; I’m sticking to him like glue. My only other security is his one arm laced around my waist. It compresses us together—face to face, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

  “Pull up your mantra, Jude. Pull it to the front of your mind.”

  I hesitate. “Why?”

  “Do it.”

  He nods, and there’s so much assurance in that one gesture that I couldn’t push my mantra away even if I wanted to. It’s calling me. I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of my song until it is loud and glaring in my ears. And it’s better than oxygen. Fresher than water. Sweeter than love.

  “Open your eyes.”

  His voice is a cool breeze in my mind, but I’m afraid to do what it says. I wait one heartbeat longer, holding my breath.

  When I finally pry open my lids, Rylin is a foot away, wearing a crooked smile on his “I told you so” expression. Arms crossed over his blazing chest, he waits for me to recognize the sheer magnificence of the situation. I didn’t feel his arms slip away. I don’t remember letting go of his neck, but he’s over there, and I’m right here, and there is nothing touching me. Not a single concrete object. Astonished, I just look at him, my music singing to me in my own private lullaby, and his hair dancing in the crisp bit of air left to us. It’s quiet except for my song—until I hear his.

  It doesn’t invade; it keeps to the edges of my own music, as if it’s listening in. But it’s enough to cause warning bells to explode inside my head, cutting through my mantra like shards of glass. I make the mistake of looking down. Wrong thing to do. His music dissipates; my mantra halts, suspended on a half note. I think for a minute my heart has stopped beating as a sort of slow motion scenario rides in on the sudden silence. My scared eyes send a quick flicker toward Rylin, and I drop—plummeting toward a black earth.

  The scream that overtakes my entire body burns my throat as it scorches the sky. I spin out of control, but on a turn, I catch sight of Rylin’s wings of fire. He races toward me, catches me, my shoulder ramming into his chest with a thud and a whoosh of breath as the pain of impact shoots up the side of my body and cuts my scream short with a gasp. I have the worst feeling that I’m going to pass out. But I miraculously manage to hang on until Rylin lands safely in the garden’s grass. I slip from his grip and slump down onto the soft and very safe and solid ground. I could kiss it. Every single nerve in my body shakes as my heartbeat pounds in my ears.

  “Well, that experiment took an excitin’ turn.” Rylin kneels over me, a hand firm on my back as I do my best to re-orientate myself.

  “You think?” I wheeze.

  “I wouldn’t have let you fall, Jude.”

  “Well, thanks.” I clutch my chest, bumping into the necklace that rattles on the end of its chain. “But next time, let’s not practice that from so high up in the air.”

  “Deal,” he chuckles.

  I dig my fingers into the lush, green grass, planting its reality in my mind. It’s dark in the garden but for a few lights lining a snaking sidewalk and sprinkling the area like earthly starts. Just enough to bring even more definition to Rylin’s already glowing features.

  “You promised not to link with me.” I peer at him, my breath coming in heavy puffs.

  “I didn’t.” His voice, his eyes, his tightened jaw—everything about him screams sincerity. Still, I’m not convinced.
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  “I heard your mantra,” I accuse. “You were thinking about it.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” He bunches his brows with a frown. “But if I had, you wouldn’t have fallen.” Frustrated, he folds his wings and slides under his camouflage. “When are you going to start trusting me?”

  I hold still, my guilt pressing in. I’m not being fair. The truth is he didn’t link with me, and he just saved my butt. I should be showing my gratitude instead of scolding him over something that didn’t happen. But the question he asks… it’s priceless. I keep teetering back and forth between trusting him or running as far away as I can get. And why? I’m not even sure it’s because of him anymore. I think it’s all me. I’m scared of my own reactions to him. He’s so full of fire and danger and adventure, and it attracts me even as it scares me. Never in my life did I think I’d be floating in the air on my own melody. He did that for me. Granted, it didn’t go over so well, but it was definitely an experience of a lifetime.

  I straighten, scooching myself up against a stone pot overflowing with a unique looking breed of yellow flower. It’s cold on my back until my heat begins to warm the stone. My skin glows, and my blood tingles in my veins, and my mantra hums behind all the excited memories my brain stores up. I’m definitely adding this to my list of nights I will never forget.

  And… I still have to answer his question.

  “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  “Well, we did.” He offers me a half-defeated smile and takes a seat, propping his knees. “And you’re evading.”

  I sigh. “Look, Rylin, I—I am learning—to trust you. But… you’re so spontaneous. I don’t know what to think about you half of the time.”

  He smiles. “You don’t like spontaneous?”

  “Not so much.” I rip a handful of grass from the earth and squeeze it in my fists. “I want to know what’s coming. It makes me feel like I have some control, you know?”

  “You took off that ring and came to my room.” He cocks his head, clasping his hands together where they meet between his knees. “You wanted something, so I gave you something. I’d say you’ve been in control the entire night.”

  That… isn’t completely accurate, but he’s not totally wrong. I did make a decision or two tonight. I peer up at the stars stretching above us. We were up there, just minutes ago. Suspended in space. Wow.

  The sky is beginning to lighten, just barely with the dawn, and I’m not even tired. My adrenaline pumps to the beat of my mantra, keeping me wide awake.

  “Kane didn’t tell me I could do that.” I study the sky a minute longer before resting my eyes on Rylin.

  “He probably doesn’t know.” He leans in, teasing. “You’re not my first hybrid.”

  “I’m not anybody’s hybrid.”

  I capture his eyes, boring that proclamation in deep. He chuckles and tilts his head, just enough for that rebellious wisp of hair to fall over the right side of his face. I concentrate on leveling out my breathing.

  “Don’t be offended. But you really are a beautiful hybrid.”

  I match his smile, but I don’t say a word.

  “Kane and I are different,” he continues. “I already told you that. He’s lived in Carson City his whole life. Hiding inside his human disguise. I’ve spent time in places where hiding isn’t always necessary.”

  “Where?”

  “The back country of Ireland. New York.” He toys with a long blade of that Japanese grass growing along the snaking pathway. It rustles at his touch. “Las Vegas.”

  “Wait.” Alert, I pierce him. “Vegas?”

  He nods. “It’s one of the safest places for our people.”

  “But… the Contingent headquarters are in Vegas.”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s risky.” I squint at him “What’s the longest you’ve gone decamouflaged?”

  He shrugs. “A year.”

  I’m fairly blown away by that answer. “You’re sure?”

  He laughs and crinkles his forehead in mock thought. “I think so.”

  “That would be amazing.”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  We stare at each other for a long time, not moving or blinking or breathing, and I think we might stay like that forever until Rylin breaks the trance and shuffles to his feet.

  “We’d better get back.” He holds out a hand. “You have a big day ahead of you.”

  I let him lug me up, right into his arms. One uncomfortable moment, and I clear my throat.

  “This was an amazing night.” I cling to his neck. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He winks and sweeps us upward in a gust of wind and fire.

  Sonata

  Kane and Jude

  “I know I can’t compel, but… do you think I could learn that? The trick with the penny?”

  His green eyes crinkle.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It all boils down to the power of the mantra. I gotta say… yours is strong.”

  “So… do you think it’s strong enough for you to teach me?”

  “Not sure.” His embrace tightens. “But we’ve got our whole lives to find out. I think there’s a lot for both of us to learn.”

  I clutch the copper coin in my fist and make a wish.

  The possibilities are endless.

  Twenty-four

  I catch a couple of hours of dreamless sleep. Frankie is gone when I climb out of bed at eight. I shower and dress and click on the television just to have some noise in the room while a brew a cup of coffee. My ring glints at me from my middle finger, doing its job once again. I feel completely human.

  I settle onto the end of my bed, coffee in one hand and remote in the other. A few clicks, and I find a breaking news story on The Witch’s Castle, a stone building in the Oregon wilderness connected to a legend of love and murder in the mid-1800s. I watch a few minutes. Turns out, the building has nothing to do with witches despite partying high schoolers giving it the name. But last night, a dead body was found there, apparently shot in the face with a double-barrel, which was the same kind of death the first owner of the land gave his son-in-law. Kind of creepy if you ask me.

  A click at the door, and Frankie sweeps in with two cups of coffee in a cardboard drink carrier and a box from Voodoo Doughnuts balanced on her palm.

  “Good morning.” She crosses the room and sets down her load. “The hotel clerk said we had to try these donuts, so Rylin and I made a trip downtown. They’re delicious, by the way.”

  She swipes open the box and hands me a napkin-clad chocolate cake donut with colored sprinkles. It takes one bite for me to agree.

  “You should see this place. Donuts in every shape and size. And I mean it. Every shape. Some a bit suggestive, if you know what I mean.” She raises a brow above her rims. “They even custom-make donuts to order. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Well, they’re good.” I take another bite.

  “Rylin’s in the lobby. He said to tell you he’s ready when you are.” She sinks down next to me. “You are ready for this. Right?”

  I chew, swallow, digest her question. I hope I’m ready. I kind of have to be because there’s no turning back now. I’m doing this.

  “I’m ready,” I assure her. She squeezes my knee.

  “What a moment this will be, Jude. A family reunion like never before. I’m glad your mom agreed to it.”

  “Me too. Because I sure didn’t want Rylin compelling her if he didn’t have to.”

  Not that I would have hesitated to have him do it. I shove the last of the donut into my mouth and tug my phone from my back pocket, sending Mom a quick text that we’re on our way.

  “All right,” I say, scooping up my shoulder bag. “Let’s get going.”

  Rylin waits for us near the sliding doors, clutching his own Voodoo Doughnut coffee cup. He tosses me a quick smile as we approach, and last night is suddenly vivid in my mind. I stifle a blush; he says nothing, gratefully. As amazing as last night was, th
is morning, the guilt has settled in—with another confession to Kane lingering in the near future. I really need to stop putting myself in these positons where an apology becomes necessary.

  Rylin doesn’t ask how I’m feeling about today. No need. My anxiety is plastered all over my face.

  I keep to myself on the ride over, leaving Frankie to carry the conversation. While I reconnected with Mom, she spent a better portion of her evening scoping out local areas of interest. She’s determined to visit a few more before we leave, including a tour of the haunted Shanghai Tunnels and a trip to the Square. And while all of that sounds like fun, it’s not why I came here. My mind is on Jarron, and the closer I come to seeing him face to face, the more nervous I get. I plug in my earbuds and drown myself in the sweet whispering of mine and Kane’s intertwined mantras. Everything in me wishes he was here right now. I send him a heart, and when he answers with a bug-eyed emoji wearing wings and a halo and blowing a kiss I relax a little. I clench tight fingers around the key at my neck and turn up the music.

  Cedar Hills looks pleasant enough. A gray and white building framed by hedges and low bushes, it resembles a large, pleasant house—from the outside. Windows of what I assume are bedrooms overlook the parking area, and for a breath, I allow myself to hope that Jarron hasn’t had such a terrible life after all.

  We have to wait on Mom for almost forty-five minutes. When she finally arrives, she’s kind of a mess. She stumbles out of the car, dropping her purse in the process, her eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. I exchange a wary glance with Frankie before I exit the car and make my way over to her, bending to help her pick up the items from her purse that have scattered across the parking space.

  “Thanks,” she mumbles.

  I scoop up a sample-sized, half-empty bottle of Jack. “You drank?”

  “No.”

  I frown.

  Yanking the bottle from my grip, she shoves it into her purse and clambers to her feet. She spots Rylin waiting by the Explorer, his arms crossed and his own sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. With an agitated dip of her chin, she throws the strap of her purse clumsily over her shoulder.