Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
SERAFINA
T he rest of the school day passes in a blur.
I’m practically trembling with restless energy by the time I throw myself into Xander’s car.
But it isn’t my sexy teacher waiting for me in the driver’s seat.
It’s Foster.
The fire elemental has changed out of the borrowed clothes and into his gym clothes—basketball pants and a loose T-shirt, so unlike his normal attire of nerdy shirts and tight jeans. His red hair sticks up in all directions, and it becomes even more disheveled as he runs his fingers through it.
“Where’s Xander?” I query, surprised but not unhappy to see my fire mate.
“He got called into a meeting and asked me to take you back to his apartment. Devyn’s going to pick him up in an hour.” Foster refuses to meet my eyes as he puts the car into reverse and backs out of the parking space. “Kian and Gage are taking Gage’s car.”
I have the distinct impression that there’s something else Foster wants to say, something bothering him. And I also have a feeling it has to do with his…ahem…literal explosion in the forest today.
No doubt, he wants to apologize, but he doesn’t need to be sorry. We all have demons that haunt us and pasts we wish to eradicate from history. I once punched a doctor in the face after he claimed my seizures were a product of my overactive imagination and that my pain stemmed from lack of exercise.
Yeah.
We all have tempers.
Foster’s just so happens to be elemental. Literally.
So before Foster can apologize, I say, “Do you know if Devyn has heard anything more about the fae deaths?”
At Tristan’s birthday party, we stumbled upon a mass grave of dead fae, all seeming to have died by a mysterious virus. During the chaos of the last few days, I haven’t been able to be as active in the investigation as I want to. My parents and brothers assured me that they’re working closely with the FIB to handle it, but I can’t help but worry. After all, this is the second crazy murderer who seems to have targeted me because of my powers as a skinwalker.
The question is…why?
My mind drifts back to Xander’s board.
What am I missing?
Foster takes my change of topic with ease.
“Nothing that he hasn’t told you, but to be honest, I haven’t done as much digging as I probably should’ve. I’ve just been worried about?—”
“Kian and Tristan?”
“Yeah.” His jaw clenches, drawing attention to the scatter of freckles on his face. “Tristan’s continuing to deteriorate right before my eyes, and Kian… He’s still struggling. I’m not sure if I can help him, Lost. Either of them.”
His voice holds a note of near pleading. When he flicks his gaze in my direction, I see tears hanging suspended in his mossy eyes.
I immediately reach across the center console and take his hand in mine.
“They’re both survivors,” I promise him, feeling the truth of that statement down to the hollow of my bones. “What Ms. Summers did…”
That familiar buzz of anger has me tightening my grip on Foster’s hand, but if I’m hurting him, he doesn’t let it show.
“Do we have any idea who hired Summers to take him in the first place?” Foster asks, his tone deceptively soft.
But I’ve seen his dark side. I know that underneath his seemingly impassive exterior is a fire that burns white-hot and blistering.
“Probably the same asshole who murdered the assassin and put him in my bed. And probably the same person who killed all of those fae with that one virus.”
Foster’s gaze turns contemplative as he turns the car onto a side street. “The FIB believes it’s the same virus that once ravaged Faerie, correct?” he questions, speaking of the mythical land it’s believed our people are derived from.
I don’t know a whole lot about it, but apparently, a virus decimated most of the fae population before they escaped to Earth to live with the humans.
Foster doesn’t wait for me to respond before he forges ahead.
“Why does everything seem to stem back to this one virus? How was this person even able to create a virus that only exists in the fae realm?” He turns towards me before quickly focusing back on the road. “Your parents traveled to Faerie, right? That’s how they found you?”
I swallow. It sometimes still hurts when I remember all of the secrets my parents kept from me for years and years. Yes, they believed me to be a changeling—a human that is swapped with a fae baby at birth—but they still could’ve saved me years of torment if they had just told me the truth. I don’t blame them, but it doesn’t negate the hurt.
If they had told me I was a changeling, exposed me to this world earlier, would my health be better than it is now? After the stress of Tristan and Kian’s kidnapping, I’ve been plagued by nightmares, interrupting my sleep and calm that I desperately need for my body to cooperate with me. I’m sure that if any of the guys know that I’ve had several seizures across the past few days that they’ll all get behind Xander’s continued threats to spank me.
Heat flares in my cheeks as I consider it. It seems odd, sometimes, to be so turned on by the idea of Xander spanking me, inflicting pain, when I’ve lived with pain all of my life. Even now, I have to shift in my seat, attempting to relieve some of the tension in my back and neck that is sending shocks of pain up into my skull.
It’s hard for people who haven’t experienced them to understand the idea of headaches that encompass not just your head but your shoulders, your sinuses, your teeth…
But I can push through. I will push through. Tristan needs me, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, more important than taking care of my mates.
Even if I still struggle with the idea of them taking care of me.
“Why does everything seem to be leading back to Faerie?” I murmur more to myself than to Foster.
An idea occurs to me then—a small seedling of an idea that hasn’t yet begun to grow but has the potential to flourish if I allow it to.
I can’t help but ask, “How do you even get to Faerie? Obviously, you can travel through portals, but where are those portals located?”
Foster whips his head in my direction so quickly that the car nearly slides into the opposite lane.
“Lost,” he begins gently, “you know that entering Faerie as a…well…as a fae is a death sentence. The virus is still prevalent in the air there.”
“Do you know that for sure?”
I don’t know why I’m even arguing. It’s not like I truly plan to travel to Faerie…right? That’s completely and utterly insane.
Right?
Right?!
“Um…” Foster slowly untangles his fingers from mine to place both hands on the steering wheel. He turns the car into Xander’s apartment complex but doesn’t move to shut off the vehicle. He simply stays there, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the rubber, his face leaching of all color. “Not exactly, but?—”
“I’m not saying we’re going to travel to Faerie,” I rush to reassure the fire elemental before he can descend into a full-blown panic attack. “You don’t need to worry.”
Foster tosses me a tentative smile, though I can still see worry etched across his face.
“I know you want answers, Lost, but you need to be smart about where you get them.” He reaches once again for my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. A tiny bit of his fire magic migrates up my arm from where he touches me, infusing my body with warmth. “None of us can lose you. Not now. Not ever.”
I swear the fire from his touch seeps into my chest, making me feel light and airy. A blush crawls up my cheeks at his words.
“You’re not going to lose me,” I assure him, returning his squeeze. “I promise.”
Yet I can’t help but feel a niggle of…something as I walk towards Xander’s apartment.
Premonition, perhaps?
Why do I feel like all of the answers I’m looking for are just a portal ride away?
Is my quest for answers and vengeance worth my life?
I shove that thought away for the time being. That’ll be a problem for Future Sera to deal with. Right now, I need to focus on Tristan, on my mate.
Foster stops me just before I slip through the door. He doesn’t look my way, his gaze intent on the cracked wood of Xander’s apartment, but I know I have his full attention.
“Lost, about what happened earlier today…”
I pivot completely to face him, wanting to make sure he can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I’m not mad. And I don’t blame you for losing your shit. I wanted to murder that asshole myself.”
Shock splays across his face as he whips his head in my direction. Red eyebrows touch his hairline. “What?”
“Those lies he was spewing were not only untrue and hurtful but had the potential to be extremely dangerous.” Absently, I run a hand across the bracelet on my wrist.
This isn’t the only blade I have hidden on me. There are two more in my hair, disguised as clips, and even more in my backpack, sewed into the lining. A girl always has to be prepared.
Some girls have an emergency supply of tampons.
Some girls have deadly weapons.
And some girls have both.
Foster’s jaw clenches. “I would kill anyone who touches you without your permission.”
Oh, how my heart flutters at that proclamation.
Out of all my mates, I consider Foster the least…deranged, I suppose you can say. So to hear that he’ll murder for me? Yup. It does things for me—things that have heat percolating low in my belly and my pulse exploding.
“You won’t need to kill anyone,” I assure Foster, smiling widely. I lean forward to kiss his cheek. “I’ll kill them myself.”
A blush tiptoes up Foster’s neck and congregates in his cheeks. Still, his smile is almost as bloodthirsty as V’s when he says, “And I’ll help you hide the body.”
And if that’s not love, I don’t know what it is.