26
Salem
Make It Burn
S leep didn’t come easily that night. Rayne was still out by the time I got in bed, and I tossed and turned in my cold bed. That woman’s face haunted me. When I closed my eyes, I was overcome with the sense that she was close by, watching me, close enough to touch me.
At one point, I opened my eyes to see a glow seeping through my curtains.
I looked out, and through the pouring rain I saw floodlights lining the property—a ring of illumination to drive away the beast. There was a distant thump, and I wondered if it was the sound of the heavy front door slamming shut.
My anxiety wouldn’t let me rest. I only felt worse the longer I lay there tossing and turning, listening to howling wind and pouring rain. So I pulled on socks and a sweater and shuffled downstairs.
Loki was asleep on a rug in the foyer, his thick fur damp from the rain. Flickering firelight emanated from the common room, so that was where I headed.
Rayne sat on the couch, facing the fire.
She had a tumbler of whiskey in one hand, a joint in the other.
Several candles were set around the room, their flames twisting and dancing to the music playing from her phone.
Leaning against the doorframe, the familiar lyrics of “Spiracle” by Flower Face made me smile.
“Can’t sleep?”
Rayne’s question made me jump. “Sorry, I thought I was...”
She turned, the firelight reflected in her green eyes. The blaze threatened to burn me alive.
“You can’t sneak up on me,” she said with a little smirk. “I’ve been stalked by far worse things than you.”
She watched me approach, gaze raking up and down my body. She took a drink, ice clinking in her glass. She swallowed slowly, and I stared at the subtle ripple of her throat, then the drop of condensation that streaked down her arm until it disappeared into the couch’s smooth velvet.
She was hypnotizing in a way I didn’t understand, like shattered glass or molten metal. Dangerous and beautiful. When she turned away, the air seemed colder, and I shivered.
“Want a drink?” She held up her empty glass as I came to stand on the rug, my bare feet curling in the soft fur.
I nodded, but she was already getting up, trudging over to the drink cart.
There was plenty of room to sit on the couch beside her, but the rug was warmer and closer to the fire.
Besides, just like the deadly things she reminded me of, sitting next to her was intimidating, like sharing space with a panther.
When she turned back with a glass in each hand, she snickered to see me sitting on the ground. “Is the couch uncomfortable?”
“No!” I stuttered, hoping I hadn’t offended her. “I’m just weird, I guess. The fur is soft, and it’s warmer...”
My cheeks grew hot as she squatted beside me and offered the glass. “If you’re cold, I can make you a hot toddy. It would only take a few minutes.”
“This is fine.” I smiled as I took the drink. It was a deep amber color, chilled with a couple of ice cubes. The scent was rich, with hints of cinnamon and caramel. “What is this?”
“A temporary cure for your problems.” She knocked her glass against mine in a toast, then drained half her glass in a single gulp. It was spicy on my tongue, but warm and smooth when I swallowed. She seated herself on the couch again, and I could feel her eyes on me as I stared into the fire.
“Did you have any luck booking a rescue helicopter?” she said after a few moments of silence. She must have seen my frantic search history on the computer.
“No.” I sighed and took a deeper drink. “I emailed my mom. Told her not to worry...” My throat choked up, and I drank again to make it stop. Maybe I should have written more; I should have made it clearer how much I loved her and Dad, how thankful I was for them always being supportive of me.
“You’ll see them again, Salem.”
Rayne’s reassurance made me suck in my breath and hold it. My emotions were getting the better of me, but I couldn’t hide it: I was scared. No, I was terrified . Unfortunately, none of my wilderness survival guides provided a section on dealing with supernatural monsters.
“Do you believe me?”
I turned. Rayne’s eyes stared back into mine, cloaked with an emotion I couldn’t read. For a few moments, I couldn’t form a response.
Finally, I choked out, “It killed Martin and George.”
“I wasn’t protecting them,” she said. “But I’m protecting you.”
I turned away, downed my drink, and set the empty glass aside. Trying not to spiral into panic again, I rubbed my hands back and forth over the fur and tried to focus on the warmth sliding down my throat.
“I saw her,” I said softly. “The red ghost. The woman. She told me to stay.” I took a deep breath, looking back over my shoulder. “So I’m going to. I’m going to help you figure this out.”
Rayne’s careful mask cracked, and fear seeped through. “Salem, no. No, listen to me, as soon as I’m able to get in contact with the coast guard, I’m going to get you—”
“I’m not leaving.”
Her face twitched. When she exhaled, her breath shuddered, and she swore under her breath.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” I said, before I could lose my courage, before she could argue.
“I can help you, Rayne. I want to. And I don’t think.
.. I don’t think I can just leave. I feel her watching me.
” Even now, I felt it: the cold surety that eyes were on me, watching from the shadowy corners, like an ever-present dark figure in the corner of my vision.
Rayne looked at me for a long while. Her jaw was clenched, as if to hold back all the words that wanted to spill out.
“You don’t know me well enough for my word to mean much,” she finally said, her voice rough with emotion. “But I’m going to keep you safe. I won’t—” She stopped herself abruptly. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, her eyes far away.
“I won’t let this island take another person from me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not again. Not you.”
I shuffled closer to her until I was kneeling at her feet. She leaned down and traced her finger across my cheek, then down along my jaw.
“I’ve never gotten a damn thing I wanted,” she said. “Until you, until this. It feels like a cruel joke.” She sipped her drink, then hovered the glass above me.
“The world is cruel enough,” I said softly, resting my hands on her thigh. “I want to stay. I don’t want you to face the dark alone. Not again.”
I opened my mouth expectantly, waiting for a drink, and she made a sound like a strangled gasp.
“God, Salem. You’re the first blessing I’ve ever received.”
She tipped the glass and let the cold whiskey trickle onto my tongue. It wasn’t only the alcohol making me hot as I swallowed, never taking my eyes off her.
“What am I going to do with you, pretty girl?”
A cacophony of possibilities stormed through my head. I crawled up onto the couch and into her lap, silent and slow. She never took her eyes off me. When my thighs tightened around hers, her breathing deepened, and she ran her fingers through my hair, making goose bumps run up my spine.
Nervous wings fluttered through my stomach as I leaned close to her ear. I inhaled, my nose barely touching her skin, and whispered, “Anything you want.”
To my surprise, she shook her head.
“Wrong. It’s anything you want, Salem. Every filthy fantasy in your head.”
Tingles shot from my head to my toes. “Then I want... I want you to remind me how good fear can feel.”
I whimpered when she slowly, firmly gripped my hair.
She drew me closer, until I was mere inches away from her lips, and said tightly, “I’ve lived in misery every winter until now.
Fucking you on every available surface in this house, until my father rolls over in his grave, sounds like a damn good time. ”
She flustered me so badly all I could get out was “Oh, shit.”
She kissed me slowly, like she was savoring me. Her tongue slipped past my lips, her fingers still knotted in my hair, her grip tightening until it ached. I began to grind against her thigh, whimpering into her mouth. The stimulation made me shake, my breath quickening.
Our lips barely parted, and she whispered, “What’s first, Salem? What the hell am I going to do with you?”
A choked sound stuttered out of my throat. “Hurt me, Madam.”
“There you go, there’s my good girl. That’s a start.” She gave my face a rough shake before she released me, then winced and said, “Mm, we’ll be careful with your head though.”
“I don’t think I have a concussion.”
“Are you really going to argue with me?” she said, and laughed incredulously. “Don’t make me punish you, Salem.”
“Oh no ,” I said sarcastically. “Anything but punishment —”
“Fuck it, you have far too many clothes on.”
She tugged my sweater over my head and flung it away. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and her eyes grew wide as she released a slow breath.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said. “Maybe I’ve seen an angel after all.”
Her reference to the beast made me shiver, but that little hit of adrenaline was like fire shooting straight into my veins.
“Do you remember your safeword?” she said. I nodded hurriedly, carelessly, but she forced me to slow down. “Say it back to me, Salem. Prove you remember.”
“Red,” I said impatiently, and she seized the candle from the small table beside her chair.
“Fuck, that’s—oh, God—” I braced, turning my face away from the flame.
“Don’t look away,” she whispered. She brought the candle closer, hovering just a few inches beneath my nipple. “You’re okay, you can do it. Do you want it?”
“I want it. Please.” I whimpered sharply as the fire came closer and the heat grew from subtle warmth to a tingling burn. My nails dug into her thigh, my heart pounding like a drum.
“Let me feel those claws,” she said. Her arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.
The flame was so close. It twitched and twisted, and I flinched every time it did. Deep, gasping breaths filled my lungs, and I was lightheaded with anticipation.