Page 79 of A Serpent in the Garden

I will vomit, Remy said.

He’s beautiful, I said reasonably, because there was little to argue with on that statement. And I’m sure you’re very pretty, too.

He scoffed at that, rustling around his cage. Flame isn’t exactly for the fainthearted, Des. It’s loud and bright. You can feel the screams beneath your skin.

What am I supposed to do? I asked as his brother led me through arrhythmic arteries of the damned. He just saved us, he hasn’t seen you in years—shall I dig in my heels and refuse him? You can block my hearing, can’t you?

“How are you finding Hell?” Finn asked, once the din from the antechamber receded and we found ourselves in the hallway leading off to the apartments where Remy’s room was. “Have you had the grand tour?”

“Not exactly. Sort of.”

“Sort of but not exactly,” he repeated, in a way that made me feel even sillier. “Maybe we ought to remedy that.”

“I don’t think I should be running loose all over Hell. The Frost regent probably wouldn’t like it.”

“No?” His gold eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t aware she liked much of anything.”

I had little argument for that. Through the torchlit hallway, faceless apartment doors flashing past us on both sides. Remy leapt from his cell and into my skin, wrenching my hand from Finn’s, who blinked down in fond condescension as if he’d felt the switch.

“Yes?”

“What do you mean, yes? We’re not going to Flame, just meet us back in my room if you want to talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you; I already know you and you annoy me. I want to talk to her.”

“Then do it in my room,” Remy said, pulling me up short in the middle of the hallway.

“I don’t want to. I’ve been gone for months. I want to rinse the travel off me and flop on my own bed.” And when Remy didn’t move: “I thought you’d be interested to hear what I’ve been able to turn up.” Finn must have found hesitation in my face, because he laced his fingers through mine again, the trace of a smile on his lips. “Let her back up.”

With ill grace, Remy complied.

Finn measured my hand against his as we walked, curling his fingertips over mine. “You all have such small hands.”

“You’ve been holding hands with humans?” Remy seemed unable to restrain himself. “Even the men?”

“Well, no, not the men. I suppose I could have asked, though. I think humans think me an angel. It must be my skin. They all look so fearful at first but it isn’t long before they find me dazzling.”

I was familiar with the phenomenon.

Traitors wind up in Frost, you know.

I don’t believe you’d let me freeze.

To that, Remy had nothing but a noncommittal grunt, but when the echoed screams reached us as we approached the staircase, I felt him straighten from his slouch.

“Screams can’t hurt you,” Finn said when I stiffened, his pace solicitously matching mine as we descended. The light from the fires of Flame washed over us, setting his skin alight. “It’s just howls in the void. It does make conversation difficult, though.”

Why did you run from him, when you were young? I asked, because I’d rather have Remy’s voice in my mind than the screams.

His fire was frightening. He had a lot of control over it, even as a child. He’d twist it into shapes of animals, dragons and phoenixes and horrible lumbering bears. They’d chase Valic and I like they were alive, the dragons belching this flame at our backs—

He wasn’t worried about hurting you?

The fire didn’t always burn. It didn’t burn the wood but sometimes if it caught us it would singe our hair, our clothes. You never knew when it might do damage so just the sight of it was terrifying.

You don’t like him, then?

I love him, he said, then added dryly, that doesn’t absolve him of being an asshole.