Page 59 of Ghosts of the Dead

I land a blow to his temple. He hits my ribs again. We roll in the dirt. Ash clouds the air around us.

“Stop it,” a voice shouts. Autumn’s voice.

We don’t stop. Not until Caspian steps between us and shoves us apart. We scramble to our feet, breathing hard, fists still clenched, each one silently daring the other to make the next move.

Jace stares at me, his chest heaving. The scar through his eyebrow practically glows when he glowers. “You think this makes you worthy of her?”

I wipe the blood from my mouth and grin, ignoring the pain flaring through my busted lip. “No, but I’m not the one running from her, either.”

Jace wipes blood off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His dark brown eyes blaze. “Fine. I’ll do it my own damn self.”

He turns and stalks away from the perimeter with his shoulders rigid.

What’s he getting himself into now?

I glance at Caspian, who’s still standing in front of me with concern written across his pale features. Then I look back at Autumn, who’s watching with a hand over her mouth. I want nothing more than to go to her and wrap my arms around her and be her anchor again, but there’s something else I need to do right now.

“Keep an eye on her, Caspian.” My gut twists even as I say it.

I don’t want to leave her. Not now. But this need to be done.

Caspian nods, and I brush past him to catch up to Jace. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To do what needs to be done,” he grits out. “I’ll find her sister on my own.”

“You can’t go alone, you stubborn asshole. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

He spins around on me, his brown eyes darkening. His hand trembles when it clenches. He’s ready to snap. Good. I want to see him snap. Let him break apart already. Maybe he’ll finally pull the stick from his ass.

“I don’t need your goddamn help.” He continues moving with long strides.

“Tough shit. I’m not letting you die alone, either. You’re still my friend, regardless of whether you even want to be.”

His laugh is bitter. “You think this is about me? You think chasing after me makes you some fucking hero? You think a few soft touches and well-timed kisses will fix what’s broken in you? You want her to see you as the one who fixes everything, all because you couldn’t save the ones before her.”

The blow hits harder than his fist ever could.

My hands clench, but I shove past the instinct to hit him again, even though I really want to make his nose bleed to match his lip. “At least I’m not too scared to let her in. You’re so afraid of losing her, you’re doing it already.”

His jaw works and his teeth grind. For a second, I thinkhe might swing again. I wish he would. Instead, he turns away and keeps moving faster now. I follow, refusing to let him go. I’ll keep following his stupid, stubborn ass until we sort this shit out.

The city looms in the near distance, everything dead quiet except for the wind, until a groan cuts through the air and we both freeze. A rotter stumbles out into our path. Its flesh is a gruesome rainbow of decay and its arms twitch when it lurches toward us.

Jace holds out his hand to me. “Knife.”

I curse, patting my empty belt. “Didn’t bring one.”

He shoots me a glare. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey, where’s yours at, hot shot? Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I check my pockets, and my fingers close around a small box of matches. Well, it’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing. I strike one and hold out the flickering flame. “This’ll do.”

The rotter stumbles closer. Its clothes catch in an instant. Flames race up its body with a sickening whoosh. The smell of burning rot makes my stomach turn.

Jace jolts back. His breath stutters. His face goes pale as ash.

I frown. Shit. He’s not moving. “You okay?”

He stares ahead, frozen, his breath stuttering, at the fire-engulfed rotter flailing in front of us.

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