Chapter Ten
The next morning, the sun rose, the hellblazers crowed, and hell broke loose.
Forcing my head up from where I’d fallen asleep on the couch, my blurry vision darted to the window wall.
If I focused hard enough, through my frayed strands of hair, I could make out the outlines of the fiery, flying entrees.
Feathers flew vigorously and puffs of fire slammed the glass.
It had to be the ass crack of dawn. Fucking bastards.
An ache in my arm from sleeping on it wrong materialized as I forced myself into a sitting position. My hips cramped and a ripe soreness erupted across my lower back; I should’ve gone to the bed. Blaze had already made his way to his little countertop home, where he knew food would be served.
The hellblazers crowed louder as I apparently took too long to wake. I gripped the cushions, cutting my eyes at them, and decided right then, I and all my aching limbs, frizzy-frayed hair, and raging emotions were declaring war. And I’d win.
I grabbed the sliding door and shoved it out of my way.
And in the threshold, I stood with determination and resolve (in yesterday’s clothes).
A bitter gust of wind bit at my nose, and even from a distance I saw the leaves changing colors.
The world outside of our corner remained quiet. The calm before the storm.
“Alright, you bastards.” I shut the door behind me. “Let’s get to it then.”
Indo first.
Grass crinkled under my boots and the dew soaked my sock where the hole ripped. I reached Indo’s boulder and my stomach sank. The slab of meat from yesterday remained right where I’d left it. Note to self: research dragon feedings? Dragon eating habits? How to take care of a dragon?
Per normal, Finneas and Finnigan came next. Finneas, slowly warming up to me, allowed me to scratch her ears while she ate.
As I saw Archie’s enclosure in the close distance, red feathers suddenly tickled my cheeks out of nowhere.
Shit. Two seconds later, they were ahead of me, fluttering manically.
I ducked, knowing he transported about every three seconds during his episodes.
Somehow, he still managed to crash into my head.
I hit my knees and crawled to his bowls.
Flashes of red and short-lived squawks blew over my head, vulgar whispers came from my lips.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Left. Duck—right. Ow. Inching closer to his enclosure, I barely stretched my arm between the gate and pole, pouring his feed in.
Scooting away, I ran back to the porch to get Phoebe’s food. Grunting with a sharp pain pricking my legs, I picked the sticker burs puncturing my skin. Tangles wove through my hair like vines in the woods. And despite it being moderately cold, sweat clung to my clothes.
Phoebe awaited my visit, sitting patiently in her bed.
I unlocked the gate and Archie returned, squawking in my ear.
Again? I ducked. “Fuck you, you pigeon.” Hurriedly, I pushed into her home, dodging and squatting.
My free arm hovered over my head, praying Archie didn’t land on it. My wobbly legs buckled left and right.
I wasn’t made for this.
Unfortunately, in the unsettling chaos of Archie, the demon bird, I seemed to have stepped on Phoebe, who’d already gone invisible.
A spine-chilling screech sounded under my foot, and I launched my body backward.
My feet tangled over the other, I stepped and moved and hurried and tried, but I fell—straight into her water bowl.
My ass was soaked with a cool refreshment.
My dress gained ten pounds. I debated sitting for a moment, or crying at what happened to the girl who ran a flower shop, but Archie was having an episode.
And Phoebe hauled ass out of her enclosure.
Flying to my feet, I spilled her bucket of food, but I bolted after the porcupine.
“Phoebe! Phoebe, come back. I’m sorry!” I repeated, knowing she didn’t understand and definitely didn’t care. Closer to the pond, she edged around it and vanished.
“Fuck,” I whispered with a wretched patheticness, glad nobody bore witness. I took a moment to close my eyes and reel myself back from the mental cliff I wanted to launch myself off of. Until I heard metal creaking behind me.
Raging raccoons.
Benedict edged dangerously close to the gate. What did I do so wrong? It didn’t matter because I realized Benedict wasn’t going for the gate. My heart stopped. Then started again. Then boiled.
Dropping everything, I sprinted toward the rascal. He crouched down closer to the ground, his body tensing as if he prepared to… pounce.
“Benedict.” My voice cracked. “Benedict, you little bas—”
He pounced. On the chicken coop. And hellblazers went everywhere.
Once upon a time, I’d feared things like spiders, sharks, and the dark. Never had I thought my worst nightmare would be a flock of flaming chickens. But here we were.
Balls of fire spat in every direction.
I reassured myself this wasn’t the end of the world and sprinted for the raccoon leaving me in the dust as he busted through the gate, as if the hellblazers were a distraction. Can a raccoon be that smart? Had I been outplayed by a trash eater? My heart might have sunk, but it didn’t have time.
In a low moment, my desperation sank to ungodly levels and I tried to close the gate with a conjured gust of wind from my fingertips.
It blew a hole in the fence.
“Fuck.” I sprinted toward the exit, turning and facing the other creatures. Glancing between them and the splintered wood panels, I held my hands up in warning. Or surrender. If there was a difference at this point. “Everybody stay here!”
Flames blazing behind me, I erupted from the battle and down a cobblestone road.
I hate this. I hate this. I hate—
“Benedict! Benedict! You bastard!” I strained my throat, and for what? A creature who didn’t understand me. Vaguely aware of how far we’d run, I knew the river wasn’t too much farther ahead. If that little garbage gobbler crossed, I’d never catch him.
The stitching in my torn boot loosened, my toes scraped the stone.
Tired of dealing with these things, I stopped in the road, took my shoe off, and tossed it into the grass.
My patience ended. My will burned to nothing but ash with the hellblazers’ flames.
Unfortunately, my breakdown would have to wait.
I had a raccoon to catch.
Or… I previously had a raccoon to catch.
As I stood there with frizzy, frayed, smoke-scented hair in a drenched dress with one shoe and sweating gallons—Laken Augustus walked up from the other side of the road with Benedict in hand.
And I snapped.
“Where the fuck did you come from? Where the fuck do you always come from?” I tossed my arms around. Every time I needed help, he showed up.
Laken closed the distance between us, eyeing me as though I’d been plagued.
I nearly cringed and stepped back. But instead, I swallowed and stood, faking it until I made it.
He held the raccoon, so I turned and started walking back, knowing he’d follow.
Not giving him the time of day to chat, or talk, or ask how I was.
“Reece, wait,” he called.
With sweat dripping down my skin, my heart raged. I came to an abrupt stop. The world wasn’t spinning, or shrinking, or freezing—it was on fire. And Laken Augustus held the matches.
And I’d been the fuse.
It wasn’t entirely his fault. It was the world’s, and he’d chosen the wrong time and day.
There were days that felt like the world aimed its blade at me.
Where it’s one thing after another, and I can get by most of them.
I can move past, shove it back. But after a while, the pile gets too heavy and one tiny sprinkle of inconvenience tips it over and everything… spills like kerosene.
I whipped around.
“I did wait, Laken. For three years, I waited for you to show up, and now that I’m back in town, you are everywhere I go.
So eager to help, so ready to catch up. I don’t want your help!
I don’t want to catch up! Did it ever occur to you that this hurts?
That I haven’t invited you back into my life because I can’t risk saying goodbye again? Did it?”
My throat strained, and I felt the invisible strings that once tied us together choking the words from my body, begging me to stop.
Laken took a step back, those broad shoulders sagging. His eyes searched me for something, desperate to read me the way they used to. His jaw clenched as he swallowed. “This isn’t how I wanted to reunite, Reece.”
“Did you even want to? Did you care at all?”
“Of course, I did. You know that.”
“Do I?”
It took everything in me not to see him the way I used to.
The way I craved to, even now. I wanted to see him the way I did when we were fifteen running through the neighbor’s grass after sneaking out.
The way I saw him the first time he said he loved me and every time he said it after.
When we were seventeen and we rode for hours going nowhere in particular, and on the way back he stopped in a field of wildflowers.
After picking enough to fill a vase, he began walking back to the horse I waited on.
But not before the landowner came out of the woods, waving his hands as bolts of power came out in drunken shots at Laken.
I’ve never seen a boy run so jagged with such a grin on his face.
I tried.
And I failed.
“I can’t change what happened. I can’t go back in time, I can’t fix it, okay? But I can help you, if you let me. And if not, take back your raccoon.” Something in Laken changed in those moments, in those words.
“So?” I asked after standing silently for far too long.
“So do you want to carry this raccoon, or shall I? He’s getting heavy.”
I didn’t want to carry him… I rolled my eyes and swallowed my pride, agreeing to let Laken carry Benedict back. I turned on my heels, leaving the pest and Benedict behind me.
“When are you going to stop being so stubborn?”
“When I’m dead and rotted.” My eyes were going to get stuck in the back of my head from rolling them, just as my teeth were going to be ground to the nerve.
Being fully aware of my personal problems, I said nothing more.
He knew I never asked others for help; it was one thing that hadn’t changed in the past three years. I’d rather suffer.
“You know I can teach you how to run the sanctuary. I know everything you need to know.”
Well, we’d almost made it back to the house without another argument.
I stopped walking. Turning to face him, I felt the anger down to my bones.
“Because my father taught you when he refused to teach me!” Laken should’ve known.
“You knew how much it hurt me when he shut me out, and yet… yet you. He trained you. And you expect me to just be happy about it?”
Laken’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. He gave no excuses, no apologies, nothing at all. I scoffed, shaking my head. The worst part? I did need the help.
Closing my eyes and tilting my head to the sky, I asked the Gods what the hell I did to deserve this. “And what’s in it for you?”
“Why does something have to be in it for me?”
Truly, I wished I’d been better at holding back my tone and watching the way I spoke.
But I wasn’t that person. I said things I shouldn’t.
I was hotheaded. I was… well, I could be bitchy.
“Because Laken, people don’t do things without expecting something in return, and I especially don’t trust you to be reliable to me out of the goodness of your heart. So I ask again, what’s in it for you?”
“You don’t think I care about the creatures, too? Don’t act like I didn’t spend half of my childhood here. You need the help; you can’t protect them on your own.”
That was rich. “Protect them? Protect them from what? They live in a sanctuary!”
Laken dragged his free hand down his face. “They are magical creatures, Reece. Rare and special. Do you not think there are people out there that would come for them?”
Taken aback, I paused, remembering what Alaric had said back when he brought me the news. How there was always interest.
“Is that it, then? You want to protect them.” I waited, wondering if there was more.
His jaw clenched, the air between us buzzed. For a moment too long, he stared at me with something I couldn’t decipher in his eyes. “That’s it.” He dragged his gaze off me and moved Benedict around in his arms.
Taking him seriously with a raccoon in his arms wasn’t easy.
But I tried. I rubbed my eyebrows. Why did he give me such a headache?
Because when I looked at him, I almost saw my best friend.
I almost saw someone I loved. Unfortunately, I only saw someone who left me.
I didn’t know why I’d expected to hear anything different from him.
But I needed the help. And if there were indeed people—or worse, poachers—out there interested in my animals, it would be nice to have Laken nearby.
“Fine,” I nodded. “You start tomorrow, but only to teach me. And to fix my fence.” Laken furrowed his brows, but I’d explain that later. “After that, you leave.”
Laken tried not to smile and instead forced his dimples out. The morning sun glowed in his squinted eyes, putting a barely visible glimmer in them. The rolled-up cuffs of his tunic showed the best parts of his arms and his tattoos. I needed the help, but… something told me this would end badly.