Page 2 of Envious Of Fire
He returned the word:Three …?
“Two corpses I sense yet,” she said. “Not three.”
The restless beast that was the fire danced and squirmed, flinging out from one window, waltzing into another, laughing, mirthful, chewing upon the walls, sharpening its teeth on the latticework, swimming into the front flowerbed.
Three.
The boy was found in the fiery belly of the beast, sprawled out on the kitchen floor, skin and hair covered in black soot, like the tiles and outdated cabinetry that surrounded his body. He was bloodied and battered, a gash down his cheek. A single arm remained outstretched, like he made a final reach for the back door and gave up. Fire glowed upon his skin from the mouth of the nearby archways, shattering, crackling.
Tristan gazed down at him. The boy turned two weak eyes upward. Eyes, just like Kyle’s. Innocent. Kind as candy. Afraid.
Alive.
The boy’s staring persisted, his sweet eyes burning like the fire as he watched Tristan. Was it the first time they met? Was Tristan to be the last face Kyle’s dear little brother ever saw?
It was not supposed to end this way.
With a brushing of Tristan’s cool fingertips over the boy’s face, he put him to sleep at once, thanks to his gift—the Lull.
“You endure this environment for that boy?” asked Wendy with absolute apathy, appearing over him like a dark thought. “The fire is deadly to you. And yet you are here.”
I did not anticipate this, said Tristan.
“And yet.”
The boy lay in Tristan’s arms now, this thirteen-year-old boy, this smaller version of Kyle, this brave, strong mortal—stronger than Tristan gave him credit for, apparently stronger so far than the gluttonous fire that slowly closed in on them.
I did not anticipate this, repeated Tristan.I…I did not…
It is quite possible that he never before in his long life felt such responsibility as he did in this moment. He was certain he would prove to be the monster he always thought himself to be and decide to just leave the boy right there, helpless. But what if the boy still survived? Didn’t he already prove himself strong? What would he say when questioned about tonight? What would he recall? Tristan and Kyle’s future crumbled away by the second at the possibilities of what leaving this boy alive could do.
He was not part of Tristan’s plan—nor the selfish desires that so fueled Tristan’s every dream of a life alone with Kyle, his new immortal love, who waited for him even now, crying into a musty pillow in a two-star motel over the family he lost.
Or thought he lost.
“Tristan, the humans approach. Choose,” said Wendy. “It will be easy. To leave him here. Let the fire have its due meal.”
Tristan could still taste Kyle’s blood on his lips from when they last kissed. He could also taste the tears. Nothing about this night had been easy.
But the boy has survived so much already…
“You mean to save the mortal?”
Kyle cannot know.Kyle can never know.
“A secret is trickier to keep when its heart still beats.”
I’m afraid you can’t truly understand.You don’t feel anything.
“It is why my advice is best. Emotion is a habit.”
I envy you.
“Leave the boy. Who will know?”
I will know.I will know every time I touch Kyle…every time he touches me, I will know what I did…what I could have done.
“Why do you care?” Wendy’s face was suddenly so close, or rather, the void where her face belonged. Everything around them burned. Everything around them hurt. “What is it about this Kyle Amos that so unravels the Tristan I used to know … the Tristan who danced on graves until dawn … who would dare to drink the blood of demons … Is he still in there? Say a word. We leave, he burns, sent to rest in the place beyond places where dead humans go, resting with his mommy and daddy. Perhaps it is even the more merciful option to end him now, if emotion is so important to you. He will age. You and Kyle will not. He will die, yet you and Kyle will persist. Say a word, it is over.”
