Page 81 of Anomalies

The screen door slams into the side of the cabin as I throw it open, tumbling down the porch steps. I hesitate only a second when I see Gemma on the porch. She sees the tears in my eyes and stands quickly. I’ve no idea why she’s here, but I’ve never been more relieved to see her.

She hurries after me as I storm down the porch steps, but Callan cuts her off. “Lucina, please.” He catches up to me in an instant. “I can’t let you leave by yourself.”

“She’s not leaving by herself,” Gemma blurts, her blue eyes saturated with concern. “I’ll go with her.” She grabs my hand and healing magic flares at the contact, warm tendrils of power feeling around for injuries. But everything hurts. And she can’t heal what hurts the most.

Callan grinds his teeth, refusing to break my stare. “You need more protection than that.”

“Then send Pax!” I hurl back at him. “Or Devon or Phoenix… send your whole damn coven if that makes you feel better.” I wipe a tear angrily, cursing it for even falling. “Anyone. But. You.”

My words crack stone—a hairline fracture running perfectly through the center of him, and Gemma stiffens beside me when she sees the light leave the Captain’s eyes.

“Come on, Cin,” she whispers, gently pulling me away. I rip my stare from his, carrying no remorse for the hurt in those silver eyes.

Gemma walks with me in silence until the Ajax cabins are out of sight, then she stops us on the empty path. “Let me see the burns,” she says softly, holding out her hands to me.

Right. The burns. Callan must have asked her to come check them.

She carefully unwraps the bandages, my hands trembling still, but the fury is subsiding, and my heated skin is cooling slowly. I hiss when the humid air hits my wounds, and she lets out a string of curses.

“That moron should have brought you straight to me,” Gemma mutters under her breath. “The salve is for pain, not for healing.”

She touches the wounds lightly with her thumb, and gentle bursts of heat flood the skin, tingling like static as the burnt flesh knits itself back together. When she finishes, my palms look good as new.

“Thank you.” I smile, and it’s more painful than I expect it to be, but I’m trying. I flex my newly healed hands, looking past them and to my bare feet. Gods, I’m still wearing his clothes.

I think I’d rather be naked.

Gemma’s blue-eyed stare rolls up to me. “That smile is so at odds with the dried tears on your face,” she says bluntly, prodding the new skin for a second longer, then she straightens. “If you want to pretend that you’re fine, I’m game, but you never have to pretend with me.”

I chew nervously on my bottom lip. “I know that.”

Gemma loops my arm through hers, and we start back down the path. “Are you going to tell me what happened, then?”

I glance in her direction, the words twisting on my tongue. The letter is the catalyst for my anger, but that’s not the root of the problem. I feel stupid letting him get so close. For allowing him the leverage to hurt me.

I force down a deep breath. Gods, she’s going to freak out. “I kissed him—well, I guess we kissed each other, I⁠—”

Gemma comes to a screeching halt. “Say that again.”

“Please don’t make me.” I rub my face with my newly healed hands. “It was a mistake; it should never have happened.”

Gemma’s eyes narrow when another tear slips down my cheek. “Oh, shit,” she breathes, her face falling. “It was more than just a kiss, wasn’t it? That’s why he was looking at you that way⁠—”

I avoid the question, staring off down the path for a moment. “I kissed him under a false pretense.”

“Which was?” Gemma hurries back to my side when I take off walking, needing to get out of these damn clothes as soon as possible.

“The belief that he was a good person.” I catch my breath, grounding myself with it. “It was a mistake, G, and I can’t think about it anymore. I just need…” I lick my dry lips, swallowing past that horrible pain in my chest. “I need to get out of these clothes.”

That’s the extent of what I can make sense of at the moment.

She doesn’t ask for any further explanation. Gemma simply grabs my hand, and we walk back in silence.

The breath I worked so hard to wrangle escapes in a desperate woosh when I see my cabin. Or what’s left of it. It’s a pile of charred wood—only half of the frame still standing, and everything inside is…ash. Everything except my metal bed frame that stands bare in the center of the wreckage.

“Wow,” I think I say, stumbling over to it, but Gemma shoots an arm out to stop me.

“I’ve already been through it this morning; there’s nothing else to save.” I don’t fight her hold. “It’s a miracle you survived that, Cin.”