Chapter 4
I don’t know what I expected to feel, but it’s the raw, charring heat that hits me first, even before I’m in the actual flame. It’s grabbing-a-scalding-pot-level pain, except it blisters all my skin. I shriek, but nothing comes out. There’s not enough air in the middle of a fire.
Then I slam into the very solid door. With the extra magic I supposedly was going to get from the flames, I kinda expected to burst through it, Kool-Aid style (“Oh, yeah!”), but no such luck. Instead, I smack against the thick wood, face-first, and bounce back onto the floor.
Now it feels like I broke my nose. And my clothes are on fire.
And I’m writhing in agony. From an outside perspective, what I just did was probably comedy gold.
Or at least it would be, if the people watching it weren’t engaged in an actual tragedy right now.
If they weren’t counting on me to save them…
“Alvin!” Rafa cries out. Worried for me. Somewhere behind.
But I’ll be damned if I just throw in the towel after one try. I don’t even look over my shoulder. Instead, I lurch to my feet, mid-immolation, and force myself to step back into the blaze in front of the door.
Yeah, I’m scared. But there’s a fine line between fear and anger—and I’m supposed to be angry for this to work. I flash to Collin back in the vampire dungeon and how impatient he got because I wasn’t focusing. He was so mad. He wanted me to picture the inferno in my chest.
So, I look inside. I don’t really know what for. (That would have been a good question to ask! Just more flame, right?) But I’m already burning to death. And the pain and fear are so intense, it’s all I can focus on.
I try to push forward, but instead fall to my knees. Then fully on my side.
No.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I need to be better than this. For Rafa, for Emma…
I’m blacking out. And literally dying in a fire.
And I don’t feel anything inside! Certainly nothing that’s going to save the day. Or me.
What if Collin was wrong? What if I really am useless, after all? What if I just committed suicide? Like I almost did with the druid lady. Because there’s no secret power inside me. The only thing that’s deep within—
—is my monster.
The part of me that refuses to die. The part that will never give up. No matter what.
When I look, it’s right there, waiting, as always. The abyss staring back.
I expect it to laugh at me. At my weakness.
My stupidity. But it doesn’t. It’s in its element.
And maybe it’s because I’m dying, but now I can tell it’s curled around something.
Fiercely. Protectively. Something much stronger than both of us.
Something I need. All I have to do is say yes to my monster and I can have it.
All I have to do is let go of who I am.
The pain has stopped. My nerves must have burnt away. The only sound is the roar of fire in my ears. And it feels like I’m falling into oblivion, which means everyone will die. I thought I was dying before with the elf’s Obligation, but this is truly game over.
I literally have nothing to lose.
OK, monster.
You win. Do your worst.
Yes.
I don’t actually see a creature when I look inside myself, but it sure as hell feels like whatever is in there gives me a wink.
Something gets pulled open—and then everything that was Alvin blasts away in a wide white shockwave.
All fear. All doubt. All worry. All gone in a scouring burst.
In its place comes pure, naked power.
And it feels magnificent!
The church door explodes out so quickly, it takes me a moment to realize it was my fist that smashed through it.
But it’s not Alvin’s fist. My hand is massive and made of fire.
Both of my hands! I grip the sides of the door frame and pull myself outside.
When I stand, I rise up and up and up until I tower over this house of God.
There are four vampires out front. Clearly, they were waiting to pounce, eager to hurt Alvin. And to hurt Rafa, who’s mine.
Their hideous fanged faces moon up at me, jaws dropped. Their thin arms hang bonelessly off their cadaverous bodies. They’re scared.
They should be.
My entire arm is flame. I extend it toward the parasites below and, with the barest whisper of effort, douse them all with hot death.
As I burn them to skeletons, they try to scream, but I already know there won’t be enough air for that.
The only sound is the stream of crackling fire I spread across them, rendering them ash with a sweep of my hand. It is deeply satisfying.
But my work isn’t done. More vampires would have spread out around the church as we suffocated within. Surely, they wouldn’t want the poor, helpless victims inside to jump out a side window and get away, right?
I step forward, turn around, and realize that I straight-up dwarf the building. My whole body is made of flame. And just as I expected, several of the undead along the sides are running away. But I’m unstoppable now.
I bring down a torrent of destruction on both sides of the church at the same time and scorch a dozen into tumbling husks.
I miss a few, but there’s time. And now I see the ones in the back.
The ones so sure we’d run into their trap.
Six or seven, running together over the backyard fence toward a decaying, boarded-up house, all clumped up on top of each other in a desperate attempt to escape.
A squealing pack of pigs, ripe for slaughter.
I twist my massive fingers under the eaves of the church, bend forward over the roof separating us, and breathe a firestorm onto them.
They flash to cinders like all the others did.
This is just too easy! I raise myself up. The church is on the corner with an empty lot to its side. The remaining fang-heads are scattering, running into the street and into the patchy plot of land to the side. Looks like I’ll have to pick them off one by one.
It’s nice to have at least a little challenge.
But wait! I missed one of the pigs from the back! I watch him make it into the abandoned building behind the church, running inside. As if that could protect him!
I flow over the top of the steeple and the roof beyond.
I don’t even need to step. I’m a force of nature, after all.
In an instant, I’m in the backyard. I bring my full rage down on that house, using both my arms and my breath to create a cascade of immolation.
The structure ignites beautifully. A twisting torrent of flame reaches into the sky and becomes even taller than I am.
I stare at it some moments. Its ravenous destruction is captivating.
So captivating, in fact, I find it hard to remember what exactly my original intention was. I mean, is there anything better than watching things burn?
Oh, that’s right: watching everything burn! That’s something I didn’t even know I wanted. But I’m sure I have. Especially after being so small for so long.
One house is not enough! I’m just getting started. There’s another next to it with movement inside. More tiny, little bodies running around. More fear. Some of the house lights are on. But they aren’t that bright. I can do so much better.
I raise my arm back and create a rolling, churning fireball. It’s the size of a small car. Even the real Sarah Stryker would be impressed. I bet you anything I can knock that little shack down in a single blow!
“Alvin…”
It’s a familiar voice, calling my name. I lower my arm slightly, before cocking it back again. I’m having fun. No reason to get distracted.
“Alvin!”
Sigh.
The voice is next to me, and I turn to see Collin. Except he’s super-sized. My size.
“You did it. You got the vampires! Rafa and the elf are safe!”
Of course I did. I’m strong enough now to get anything I want. But the magic Irish boy doesn’t look like he’s celebrating. He looks stressed.
Whatever. That spirit is such a roller coaster of emotions, who can keep up? But he does remind me that there were vampires and that I was wanting to do something to them, but it looks like they’ve all run away.
Except for one. There’s one who looks like he’s sticking around to take in the show. I see him down the street, and recognize his smug face immediately. It’s Rafa’s dead dad.
Our eyes lock. He’s yards and yards away, but everything is so clear to me now. Distance doesn’t matter. He gazes back at me, curious, like I’m an interesting bug. He still thinks I’m the stupid incubus boy.
You know what? I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. Not one bit. And now, there’s not a single reason I have to.
I draw back my elbows, thrust up my chest, and roar into the air.
The night sky is torn open with an eruption of fire from my mouth.
The ground tremors beneath my feet. When I grin back at him, jaws hungry, the snotty vampire straight-up hops in the air like agitated chipmunk. Then he turns and runs. Terrified.
That’s more like it.
I surge after him, sweeping through weed-choked backyards clogged with dilapidated sheds and rusting clutter, and I bring flaming ruin with every footstep.
He’s faster for now, but I’ll get him. To think, Alvin was scared of that little speck of lifeless flesh!
I will teach that snooty vampire what real fear is—even if I have to burn the entire city to the ground!
I step out into the street—my massive leg the size of architecture—when Big Collin appears in front of me, palms out.
“Alvin, stop!”
But big or small, he’s just a spirit. I’m on the open road now. I simply run through him. I won’t let my prey slither off.
The magic Irish boy appears again, now twenty feet ahead of me. This time, he blocks the view of Rafa’s father—which is frustrating. He’s clearly not going to give up.
I wonder if I can use my power to hurt a spirit, especially something as powerful as an “Avatar of Knowledge.” Something tells me I can.
I raise my fist and then swing down with all my strength to punch him in that big soft baby face of his.
The blond boy drops his arms and takes the punch, full in the jaw. The contact feels delicious. Skin crackles and bone breaks against my knuckles. He tumbles backwards, full heels over head—two times, even!—before skidding on the pavement.
Nice!
Then I’m over him, ready to pummel him into pulp, and see I’ve already done tremendous damage. I really am so fucking strong! That beautiful face of his is crumpled-in and bloody. He’s a god-tier spirit, and I took him down-and-out in one shot!
He looks like he’s in so much pain!
But… for some reason, that doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
He raises his head. It trembles, like it takes great effort. His voice comes out of his smushed mouth in a mumble. “Alvin, this isn’t you. You’re in a residential neighborhood. You’re spreading fire everywhere. What you’re doing will hurt people. This isn’t you.”
Of course, it’s not Alvin! Alvin was weak. I am fire and thunder! I don’t need to be scared of anything! And I don’t need to listen to anyone! I’m done with worrying about who could get hurt!
I raise my fist to smash him again—
—and then I stop.
This should feel awesome. It’s power! It’s freedom! But now, hovering over Collin’s watery blue eyes, it all feels… a little lonely somehow. Sad, even.
Jesus. Why does everything need to be so freaking complicated with this guy?!
With effort, Collin levers himself up and reaches his giant-sized hand forward, past my arm, into my chest. I look down to see Alvin, suspended, limbs limp, eyes closed, inside a body of fire. A monster of fire. I watch Collin’s finger touch Alvin’s face.
My face.
“Alvin… Come back to me… I’m hurt… I need you… Help…” He then collapses back to the ground. He really does look pretty messed up. And I’m the one who messed him up.
What am I doing?
I don’t like to hurt people! Not anyone. But especially not him!
Then it hits me. All the power I felt, the exaltation—it wasn’t confidence.
It was rage. In a horrified instant, some curtain parts inside me and all my anger drowns under a wave of sadness and guilt.
A downdraft of cool air melts away the flames from around my body, and I feel myself gently float to the ground.
When I open my eyes, they’re Alvin’s eyes—my real eyes—and Collin is on the pavement in front of me. Regular-sized. Broken.
I drop to my knees and pull him into my lap.
“Oh, my God. What did I do?!”
His fingers slide onto the back of my hand.
The tips stroke my skin, weakly. “You did great, Alvin… You came back...” That gentle expression of his, lop-sided due to his injury, lights up his eyes.
But it’s just a dim flicker. There’s not enough mouth to smile.
“You just need to hold me for a little bit… I’ll be grand… ”
That doesn’t sound likely. But I still scoop him up tighter in my arms, much faster than I probably should considering his injuries, and squeeze him way too hard against my chest. I can’t help it—I’m so desperate to fix things. To fix him. To fix all of it. Everything I did.
I look around. The whole half of the block that I ran over is on fire. People are fleeing from their homes, clutching the few belongings they could carry. Children are crying, small faces covered in soot.
And behind me, in the middle of the street, are Rafa and the elf. Staring at me in abject fear.