Page 48 of Ghosts of the Dead

Well, it feels supported. Not perfect, but better. He glances up at me with a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask, puzzled.

He glances over his shoulder at the scorched edge of the camp, where rotter blood still stains the dirt. “Whistling earlier. I was just happy, you know? Didn’t think anything of it. Should’ve stayed alert. Should’ve noticed I was being followed by every rotter in the area.”

“You were happy?” I ask, surprised.

His pitch-black eyes find mine. It’s so odd to see happiness there, yet it somehow fits him perfectly. “Yeah. Because of you.”

Happy. It’s such a strange word here. No one says it anymore. Hearing it from him almost makes my throat close.

My breath catches. Not in panic this time, but in something softer. It’s the way he says it, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like the admission costs him nothing, though I know better. Mars hides a lot behind those smiles.

“I thought I was doing something good and helping you. All I wanted was to make you stop shivering, and my flannel wasn’t doing the job,” he says with a sadness to his voice

His gaze drifts over his flannel shirt I’m still wearing. It’s wrapped tight around me, hiding how almost half of my tank top is missing now, so the fabric is only enough to cover a couple inches below my breasts.

He continues, “I wanted to give you something better, even if it was just a damn blanket.”

“You were, and you did,” I say, my voice soft.

He sighs and reaches toward where the bloodstained blanket had been before he threw it into the fire. “I’ll get you another one. A better one. One that smells like flowers and doesn’t come with undead party crashers.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Thank you, my favorite planet.”

Then, unable to help myself, I lean in and kiss him. It’s only for a moment, but it’s not long enough. When I pull back, his hand rises to brush a lock of hair from my face. There’s a new kind of light in his eyes. It’s softer than fire but just as warm.

“Anytime, my favorite season,” Mars says, his voice husky with promise.

I look over at where Caspian is trying to get Luna to play fetch with a big stick, but she refuses to move. Jace is stilllost in the shadows, but I remember how he was here for me recently when I needed him most. He didn’t abandon me, despite the distance he so badly insists on keeping.

Three men who put their whole lives on hold for me.

Yeah, I am absolutely fucked. And the worst part is…I don’t even want to stop it.

17

CASPIAN

The camp is too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes my skin crawl.

Mars and Autumn crouch by the fire, dragging their fingers through the dirt playing Tic Tac Toe like the world didn’t almost end again. She laughs at something he says, and the sound twists somewhere in my chest. It’s not jealousy, not really, but it might be something sharper. Add in the fact my ghosts are haunting me again, and we’ve got a recipe for disaster.

She’s already witnessed their effects more than she should have. I can’t keep bothering her every time the darkness gets a little too loud.

The ghosts always pick the worst moments to surface, and tonight they’re clawing their way up from wherever I’ve buried them.

We spent the day clearing corpses from the area, choosing burial over burning to avoid choking on the stench. We talked about moving campsites, because there isn’t anything we can do about all the blood that’s still splattered around everywhere. It will only hurt us if we ingest it or rub it into open wounds, so I think we’re safe from that. Marsisn’t the greatest cook, but I doubt he’ll consider using it as a seasoning. But still. It’s really gross.

Now, in our first real moment of peace since the attack, my past comes calling. I haven’t yet figured out a way to take myself off its speed dial.

I can’t let Autumn see me like this. She’s dealing with enough as it is, without adding mine to the mix every single time I have an issue. I sure as hell won’t risk pointing another gun at her head because my mind can’t tell past from present. So I slip away from the firelight and into the dark to deal with my demons myself, the way it should be.

A few minutes.

That’s all I need to break down and then pull myself back together. To stuff everything back down where it belongs. Then I’ll return, and no one will be the wiser.

Maybe then I’ll finally be able to join everyone in the light.

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