Page 18 of A Spark in the Ash

I’m done being scared.

“You ready?” I ask.

It’s so strange being just the two of us here in the compound. I’ve never, ever been here alone. It’s so quiet. The air feels heavy.

It feels electric with possibility.

“Yeah,” he answers, and I’m so damn proud of him when he doesn’t seem scared either.

This is my Jaxon. This is my equal. The light to my dark, the equalizing gray.

I walk to the control panel to one side of the vault. It’s actually not that complicated. We had it built in the eighties. I press some buttons which are entirely mechanical in use. They beep. There is a scraping sound as the lock unlatches.

I twist a wheel, opening the manual lock.

Crossing to the door of the vault, I pull the four six-inch-thick pins from their place.

And finally, I pull the heavy-duty latch, and the door does a deep moan as it swings open.

Jaxon stands there, rooted in place. His head lowers slightly, and he looks at me through his eyelashes. I watch it as his hands curl into fists.

I see it as heat begins to rise from his shoulders.

Light splinters its way across his hands and shoots up his wrists.

“Serena,” he says, his voice the roughest I’ve ever heard it. There is a faint ring to it.

I stand there in place. My knees are bent just slightly. I have a gun in the holster pack strapped to my thigh, but I swear on my immortal life, I won’t use it. But I let the shadows awaken inside of me, prepared to shift if I have to.

If I shift though, I can guarantee it will trigger Jaxon to shift as well.

“You can do this,” I say, keeping my tone calm and even. “I know you can do this, Jaxon.”

He closes his eyes for a moment. He takes a shuttering, deep breath in through his nostrils. He holds it in his chest for twenty very long seconds.

Slowly, I watch as the heat diminishes. As the light emanating from him fades.

Darker and darker, the vault grows darker.

And he looks normal to me again, human once more, but I don’t say anything. I don’t move. I let him have his time and space to gain control.

He’s trying to protect me, and I’ll allow him every bit of time he needs. No matter how much I’m resisting the urge to rush to him and throw my arms around him.

Slowly, he lets his breath out between his lips. He is incredibly still and silent for another long moment.

But finally, he opens his eyes.

My heart starts pounding hard in my chest, as if a drumbeat is triggered by our eye contact. It’s anticipation surging in my blood. It’s loneliness and desire that are raging through my insides.

It’s the hope that my equal, the light to my dark, is ready.

I watch as he takes one step toward me. My breath stills in my chest as he takes another.

Every movement is calculated and evaluated. I see the intense concentration and focus on his face as he crosses the vault, walking toward the darkling standing in front of him.

Faster and faster my heart beats as the distance between us closes.

Four feet.

---