Page 65 of A Spark in the Ash

“She will be safe in the hospital,” I say as I look up into his eyes. “Your mom can’t make her go on runs when she’s laid up in the hospital. Just give us a few days. Give us a few days to deal with the Kindred, and then you and I can go take care of your mother and this situation.”

There’s a look on his face, one that tells me he’s still not sure he can “take care” of it the way I mean to take care of it.

“Fine,” he finally agrees. “Two days. That’s how long Blake said Scarlett is going to be in the hospital. But no more than that. I can’t let my little sister get killed because of me.”

I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know if we can really take care of the Kindred in two days. No one has updated me as to where they even are right now.

But it’s something. It’s all I can reasonably ask for.

So I nod. Jaxon tips his head down and presses a kiss to my lips. And then he steps away. He glares at Davorian, the target of his anger at the moment, and walks passed him into the kitchen.

My commander raises an eyebrow at me, one that saysyou know how to pick them. But he turns back to the board on the wall.

“What’s the update?” I ask, ignoring the fact that I’m standing here in nothing more than my pajamas and the fact that there is an audience of darkling agents still watching all the drama unfold.

“They’re still in Tonopah,” Davorian says, pointing to their location. “I don’t know what the hell they’re doing there. But they’re just camping out.”

“Maybe we send a team after them?” I suggest. “I’m getting a little sick of sitting around, waiting for them to strike.”

Davorian shakes his head. “I’d rather fight on our turf, under our terms. We don’t know that area. We don’t know where to go if someone gets hurt or if we need supplies. And this should be easy with all of us here at the ready. Why risk it with a smaller team?”

Ugh. He’s right.

“Well, we don’t have a lot of time,” I say as I turn and look down the hall. I see Renwick leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, talking to Jaxon, even though he’s out of my line of sight. “Jaxon means it. He’ll wait until his sister is out of the hospital, but then he’s going to go. You won’t be able to stop him.”

I look over to see this look on Davorian’s face that tells me that yes, he will be able to. He’s right, we have the numbers.

But I will do anything to keep it from coming to that.

“I’ll give it another six hours,” Davorian says. “If they don’t head this way before then, I might need you to reach out to the resident ultralights.”

I nod in acknowledgment and turn and walk away.

I go to my room and get dressed for the day. I pick a pair of black pants, something stretchy but sturdy. I pull on a black tank top. Beneath all my clothes, I strap on knives. In my hip pack, I pack my gun.

I can feel it. Something is going to happen today. I want to be prepared to fight as a darkling, or with my own human hands.

The day is tense. Jaxon ends up going back to his bedroom, not mine. He stays there, and he's on the phone half of the day, checking on his sister. I leave him be. I am here for him, but he also wants to keep me separate from his family, a fact that I appreciate and understand.

Every darkling is occupying the compound once again. The passageways are full, the kitchen is in a constant rotation of preparation. The washrooms are always being used. So for this reason, I'm glad that Jaxon is staying out of the way.

Our instincts to kill the ultralights are not the same as the ultralights instinct to kill us. This is not our verse. Our instincts don't work as well. But still, they know what he is. And even that simple knowledge awakens our guardian forms. They all have exceptional control. They've been doing this job for a century and a half. But still, it makes me a little nervous that there are forty-seven of us and only one of him.

My anxiety is through the roof. It feels like the longest day ever.

At eight o'clock that night, my phone rings. I look down at it and the name on the display says Vivian.

Adrenaline crashes through my blood, and my blood isn't hot, it's cold.

I step into Davorian's empty office and close the door behind me.

"Vivian," I answer coldly.

"Where is my son, Serena?" she asks in a cold, calm voice.

"He's taking a nap," I say simply.

There is a moment of hesitation. Everything Vivian says and does is calculated. "My son hasn't been answering my calls for the past twenty-four hours. Do you happen to know why?"

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