Page 16 of Mated in Flames

Luciana

It’s only after Warwick and Dane have left that the shock I’ve managed to keep at bay finally swamps me. I slump down into my armchair, staring unseeingly at the unlit fireplace, a beer hanging loosely from my hand.

Phoenixes, poisons and people coming back to life… my mind is spinning with it all. I can hardly believe any of it is real.

But I know it is. I’ve seen the impossible every day since I came to this farm. My neighbours turning out to be human phoenixes probably shouldn’t be so much of a shock. It isn’t like I would have ever known if this hadn’t happened. They’re incredibly good at hiding themselves.

And, from what they told me, they would have had to be. They didn’t say much about their pasts, but it was clear, from the way that their expressions twisted as they spoke of the Supernaturals, that they had had run ins with them in the past. Had they seen someone die by poison?

I don’t know how long I sit there, thinking. But, as the night gets deeper and I know I should think about at least trying to get some sleep, I hear a hard knock on the door.

I glance at the clock, wondering if I had just imagined. It’s after midnight. It’s crazy that everything had changed so much in just a few scant hours. The knock comes again, and I stand warily, putting my empty bottle down with the other two I’ve consumed. Just recently I had had poachers come onto my property to steal my animals, and try to shoot me when I interrupted them. A knock on my door after midnight surely can’t mean anything good.

I almost don’t answer it. But then there’s a third knock, this one sounding more desperate, and I remember what Dane and Warwick said about being hunted. Were they in trouble?

I crack my front door open, tense and ready to grab the fire poker sitting against the umbrella stand, and then throw it open when I see Warwick there.

“Warwick,” I say urgently. “Is everything alright?”

My mind is still geared for fight after the evening that we’ve just suffered through. And Warwick looks wretched, though he tries to smile.

“Sorry,” he says. “I can’t sleep.”

Not in trouble then. I relax and frown. So why was he here and not at home, looking after Dane?

“Is Dane okay?” I ask.

“He’s asleep,” he assures me. “He’s recovered well. Barely a mark on him. It’s the first time he’s gone through that, you know?”

“Have you?” I ask curiously, standing aside almost unconsciously to let him inside.

“A long time ago,” Warwick says quietly. “I was on my own and I fell from a cliff. Dane didn’t know about it until I came home and told him.”

He starts to walk, heading toward the bedrooms, and I pause before following, stepping after him as he ends up in the guest bedroom. Only then does he stop, staring down at the floorboards.

There’s a large, dark mark where Dane had been, the floor scorched by the fire. There’s also a thin trail of blood leading to it from the door, where the man had bled as we dragged him in there.

For the first time, I realise that Warwick, even while knowing his brother would be okay, had had to suffer watching his dead body. I’ve seen death before, and I know how the image of the corpse sears itself into the mind, until it’s all I can see every time I close my eyes. When David went missing, all I could do was imagine every awful scenario in which we might find his body.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Warwick says quietly, though we both know it’s a lie.

“Do you want to stay?” I try again. “I have other rooms.”

“Dane will wonder where I am,” Warwick says. “He won’t be happy that I’m here.”

He’s still staring at the scorch mark. I approach him slowly, much in the way that I have done to grieving loved ones in the past. Warwick got his brother back. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered until that moment.

As my arm brushes his, I feel a little spark across my skin. This moment feels strangely intimate as we stand together. Close as I am, I can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath; like me, he had also turned to drink to deal with what happened tonight.

Then Warwick turns away abruptly. The message is clear. He wants to be out of here. Wordlessly, I take his arm and lead him into the hall, shutting the door firmly. Then I look up.

He’s standing very close. I remember, suddenly, the moment earlier when he had helped me up from the floor. He had been extremely close then, and I had seen the way his body had slowly moved toward me. Heat had burned within me, almost as fierce as the fire that had burst from Dane, and I hadn’t been able to tell if I was disappointed or not that Dane had interrupted us.

It’s funny how a single night could change things. It was only earlier that I was thinking of how much of an idiot Warwick was, and scoffing at his stupid attempts to help me the other day. Now, everything feels so different.

Warwick leans in. Maybe it’s the warmth of the alcohol that I’ve drunk, dulling the voice in the back of my head that wants to know what I’m doing, but I don’t move away and, when Warwick’s lips touch mine, I wind my arms around him.

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