The Fire Wars Page 7

  “What was all that about?” I asked him. “What's going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean – what do I mean? You just kissed me?”

  “Well, aren't you going to thank me?” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

  “For kissing me?”

  “For getting you out of there alive, Miss Evers. And don't go blabbing what's happened to anyone, either – or else I won't be able to save you. It's lucky for you I passed by when I did. They respect me. They know me. They trust me not to give away their secrets. If they trust you it's because I vouched for you – and they're risking their whole way of life by letting you leave here unharmed. My father would be all over that land in a heartbeat – let alone far less scrupulous developers – if he knew they were there. He'd turn the Veteri into a tourist attraction the way he's done with the fire-dancing.” He scoffed.

  “They were treating you like you were a god,” I said. “I thought you'd had enough of that at Eton.”

  At the mention of his old school, Chance scowled. “They treat me with respect,” he said. “It's part of their ways – you wouldn't understand.”

  “Try me,” I insisted.

  “It's a long story,” said Chance. He didn't look at me. At last my house came into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a harrowing day, and all I wanted to do was go home.

  “You know, normally that cottage is reserved for VIPs,” said Chance, pointing at my house. “It's usually rented out. But my father decided to turn it into an employee residence instead. Because that's how the Cutter family operates, of course.” He smiled grimly. “We’re one big happy family. According to Antonio.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Well, thanks.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake, but he did not. “I should have stayed on the path. But I was stubborn. I wanted to go out and collect some stones, but...”

  “Stones?” Suddenly Chance's brow furrowed. He looked almost worried. “What do you want with stones around here?”

  “I collect them,” I said. “Really – it's just a hobby. Some people like bird-watching, other people collect baseball cards. I like stones. And on the path today, I had this feeling – just this weird feeling – that what I was looking for wasn't on the path.”

  Chance said nothing, but his eyes were full of concern. Even now they were so dazzling – like the blue burning of a flame.

  “Don't judge!” I said. “I love finding new stones. That feeling you get when you hold them in the palm of your hand – kind of warm…how they change colors, how sometimes the stones can tell you things…” I broke off, feeling embarrassed telling Chance about the stones and almost telling him about my connection with nature. How I can sometimes tell about a place, its history, what went on there just by picking up a stone, studying some of the plants and rocks around. “We don't have that kind of connection with nature. Not since the Erosion. Now it's all ferries and airplanes and gadgets and dams and trying to fight nature every step of the way. It wasn't like that, once. We were more connected then. Now we're just trying to have power over nature – and it isn't working. No matter how many scientists try to restore the land mass.” I stopped short, afraid I had said too much.

  “Not everyone, Miss Evers.”

  “How many times have I told you?” I sighed. “Mac. Just Mac, Chance.”

  “I don't use pet names,” said Chance. “And I prefer not to use first names.”

  “Why, too much trouble to remember them?” The familiar anger sparked in me. How could Chance dance with me so passionately, kiss me so passionately, only to be so cold to me when we spoke.

  “No,” he said. “Calling you by your first name – it means we're close. And we're not. I'm not interested in being particularly close to anyone.”

  I remembered what Varun had said about Jana – about the girl who died in the fire at Eton. What was Chance not telling me. What was he so afraid of? “Why not?” I said. “What's wrong with getting close to someone?”

  “Because!” Chance threw up his hands, turning away from me.

  “Because why?” I wasn't about to let him walk away again. Chance had messed with my head one too many times this weekend for my liking. I wasn't going to give him that power over me anymore. And as much as his kiss made me weak at the knees, I wasn't about to wait for him to decide to give me another one.

  “Because it's not for me – just let it go.” He was growing angry now; I could sense it.

  “Why not for you? When it's fine for everyone else?”

  “It just isn't, okay?”

  “Why?” I took a step closer.

  At last he exploded. “Because it's too dangerous, damn it!” He turned back towards me, and in his eyes I saw something there I had not seen before. Not cruelty. Not disdain. Not arrogance. Only pain – bare, unmasked, vulnerable.

  And I wanted nothing more than to soothe it.

  “I'm not afraid,” I said, stepping forward. “I don't scare easy, Chance. And you're not going to get rid of me that easily. Whatever weirdness is going on between us – I want to see it through to the end. Properly.”

  He wasn't going to call the shots anymore. I was.

  I stepped closer and, before he could figure out what I was doing, reached my arms around his neck and pulled him close into a kiss. I could feel his lips parting beneath mine; I could feel the heat of his tongue exploring my own. I could feel his pulse quicken, his hands grow warm.

  And then he pulled away.

  “I did warn you, Miss Evers,” he said.

  “Mac.”

  “I'll warn you again.” Chance turned away from me and began to storm off into the distance. “Stay away from me, Miss Evers. For your own sake – and for mine.” And with that, he vanished into the night.

  Chapter 10

  I woke up Monday morning feeling more confused than ever. The weekend had been an overwhelming one. I'd hoped to start my senior year fresh – ready to make friends, to have adventures, to get good grades, to maybe join a sports team or two and start hunting for college scholarships. Instead I'd kissed two guys in twenty-four hours. My own body felt like a stranger to me. Something kept taking over me – first at the flames at the bonfire, then again in the woods – as if I had been possessed by some unknown creature. I didn't have any control over my thoughts anymore; my mind felt as if it had been submerged in water. Fuzzy. Overwhelmed. I kept thinking about Varun and Chance, Chance and Varun, my thoughts flitting back and forth between them. I spent Sunday forcing myself to concentrate on my homework, trying to forget Varun's sweetness and Chance's passion, but by the end of the day I was a nervous mess.

  What was I doing? This wasn't me at all. It had been years since I'd been interested in one boy – let alone two – and it certainly wasn't like me to go after both at the same time. Leading guys on, I'd always thought, was reserved for girls like Haven, girls who didn't care who they were dating as long as it gave them a better shot of making prom queen. But here I was, thinking of both Chance and Varun, wanting them both beside me, wanting both sets of arms around me. Varun was so kind, so warm – he knew how to make me laugh. He knew how to make me feel calm, feel safe, even in the midst of all my stress and troubles. And certainly Chance made me feel anything but safe. With him I lost control of my emotions; with him anger and desire melded into a single blazing force. I wanted to slap him; I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to make him feel as confused and out-of-control as I felt now.

  And somehow, it seemed, this all had to do with the secrets of Aeros, the secrets I was only just beginning to discover. What was the truth about what happened to Jana, about Chance's secrecy, about the girl who died in England? Who were the men I had seen in the mountains, and why did they really worship Chance as a god?

  And what was it that he had said about a goddess?

  Something was going on. I had felt it ever since that first night at the luau, when Antonio Cutter had looked at me so intently when talking
about Chance. And now I knew that Antonio Cutter was behind our family's successes – from my scholarship to the fact that we were living on VIP property instead of normal staff quarters. Varun had told me that Antonio cared about his staff, that he wanted everyone to be like a family – but it seemed like more than that now. Something was going on. Something strange as if everything has been in place, set in place years before me. And I wanted to know what it was.

  That Monday, I arrived at school on time for morning wrestling, wearing my own set of gym clothes, much to the snickering disappointment of the boys who had enjoyed seeing me in my tight clothes earlier. I hadn't seen Varun in the hallway, much to my disappointment, but although I longed to see him I was a little bit relieved. How could I look him in the eyes, taking in his adorable puppy-dog smile, when I knew that I had kissed his cousin and rival mere hours after I had succumbed to his own charms?

  Did I want Chance, or did I want Varun? Chance's cruelty towards me was making me competitive – the more he pulled away, the harder I wanted to pull him back towards me, to make him mine. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him – I was sure of it now – the arrogance and the boorishness was all an act. He'd admitted as much when he talked about danger.

  But what was I in danger from? Or who?

  I did not look at Chance when I walked into class, and he was just as clear about not looking at me. He kept his chin high in the air and focused his gaze out the window. But I could feel his desire even without looking at him. We can feel each other’s presence – the air was thick with tension between us. His energy filled the room and made me shudder.

  But I wasn't going to let him distract me from my goal. Last Friday, Alice had beaten me easily. But this time it was going to be different. I followed the warm ups Coach Matthews gave us to the letter, running an extra lap around the gym when the others were tired out. I watched as he showed us the various moves we needed to perform, using Alice as an example, and I tried out the various methods of felling an opponent with Bobby, a tall, lanky boy with whom I had been partnered for the technique portion of the class.

  At last it was time for the “square-offs,” the final fifteen minutes of class, where we were each matched against each other to apply what we learned. I watched the other wrestlers – Bobby, Tim, Chance – like a hawk, watching exactly what it was that they did, trying to mirror their technique.

  At last it was my turn. My first match, against Alice, was a predictable defeat, although in my defense I managed to withstand her superior strength for a full five seconds longer than last time. But my second match, with Misty, proved a more even fight.

  “Good luck,” I heard Chance whisper to her as she got up to fight me, and I quietly seethed. Chance, whatever else had happened between us, had kissed me only two days ago: shouldn't he be wishing me good luck? I couldn't help glaring at Misty – what did she have that I didn't? Why was he so nice to her and not to me? Did Chance have an especially soft sport for electric-blue hair?

  This time I won. Whether I was spurred by a genuine improvement in my wrestling technique or by jealousy and adrenaline I do not know, but I managed to get Misty on her back, pinning her tightly to the mat and accidentally bruising her elbow in the process.

  “Are you hurt?” Chance helped Misty up, inspecting her elbow and touching it softly with his finger.

  I looked at him with surprise. How could he be so kind with Misty, so gentle, when he was such a rake to me? And then it hit me.

  Misty was his girlfriend. That was the reason he'd been avoiding me, avoiding our attraction, pushing me away. He and Misty already had some sort of connection. My face flushed with shame – how had I been so stupid, so thoughtlessly cruel, as to go after another girl's boyfriend? But that shame quickly turned to anger. It had been Chance's choice to dance with me, Chance's choice to kiss me that first time – and he'd certainly kissed me back on the second. It was clear that I liked him, and he could have told me at any time that he was seeing someone else.

  But instead he'd chosen to lead me on, to betray Misty and to make me into some kind of a fool. For fun, I wondered bitterly? Did he enjoy humiliating me? My cheeks blazed. How dare Chance lie to me like that!

  Coach Matthews turned to me. “You look flushed, Evers,” he said. “You look like you could use another go.”

  “I sure could,” I muttered. “I'm not done yet.”

  “Lots of energy for a beginner.” Coach Matthews laughed. “I'm impressed.” He scribbled something I couldn't see down on the keyboard. “Heart of a champion, clearly.” He looked the class up and down, trying to decide whom to match me up against next. “How about this?” He patted me on the shoulder. “You pick out your next opponent. Anyone you want. Completely your choice.”

  “I think I know who I want to fight.” I turned my gaze to Chance. “Chance Cutter, you ready for a fight?”

  Chance looked up at me with surprise, a look of shock that turned swiftly into a subtle glare. “Very well, Evers.” He sprang onto the floor. When he was close enough to me, he muttered into my ear. “Just what do you think you're doing?”

  “Just seeing what you've got, Cutter!” I put my hand on my hips. “A girl's just curious, that's all.”

  “Don't push me, Mac.”

  So that's what it took to get him to call me by my first name, I noticed with a wry smile. A challenge. I curled my lips. I was going to make sure Chance stopped calling me by my last name if it was the last thing I did

  “Ready?” Coach Matthews called out affably from the sidelines. “One, two, three...”

  Chance simply stood staring at me, immobile and dark, his muscles well-defined beneath his tight sports shirt. His brilliant blue eyes seemed to floor me of their own accord.

  For a moment I was weak. I wanted to rush to him, to love him, to kiss him.

  But the moment passed. I saw Misty out of the corner of my eye, and jealousy and rage flooded through me. I wasn't about to give up my dignity, my self-respect, to a jerk who'd played around on his girlfriend and didn't even have the decency to be upfront about it.

  I rushed him, knocking him to the ground. His eyes flew wide open with surprise – he hadn't expected me to be so strong. But he grabbed me back, tumbling over me. I could feel his hot breath on my body; I could feel our sweat-soaked frames twining together, our hearts beating faster with anger and desire. He tried to push me off him, but I held on tight, raising his wrists to try to push them over his head.

  Now he fought back. He grabbed my wrists, his rough grip driving me wild as he pulled me to him, flipping me onto my front so that he was lying atop my back, his lips so close to my ear. He'd won, I noticed bitterly – now all he had to do was pin me down. But he held on – so tight – as if he didn't want to let go.

  “What are you waiting for?” I snarled. “Throw me down, Chance. Isn't that more your style?”

  “Don't tempt me,” he whispered, his grip growing even tighter.

  “Manly man and all? The great god? I don't know, Chance, I've been awfully cold lately. Maybe you should take me to your secret lair and make me your goddess!” Outside the mountain, the words sounded foolish, even ridiculous – some stupid game we had both played.

  “Don't you ever say those words to me again.” Now he was angry.

  “I forgot – you're afraid...”

  “I'm never afraid, Evers. And don't you dare believe I'm the sort of man who would let myself be a coward.”

  Evers. The formality was back.

  He thrust my face into the mat and raised his hand into the air. Five seconds I lay, wriggling and furious in my defeat.

  A routine wrestling move. One I'd done ten or twenty times that very hour. But with Chance on the mat with me, our simple game felt like so much more. I felt as if lightning had pierced through my skin. My heart was racing.

  At Coach Matthews' “match!” Chance released me, and I clambered to my feet. As I turned to face him, I saw that his eyes were once again filled with deep pain alon
gside his anger. Those weren't the eyes of a jerk out for a laugh, I knew – those weren't the eyes of someone who would cheat on his girlfriend as a game. There was something more going on, as if he were fighting within himself.

  I stumbled as I rose, but Chance did nothing to help me up. “Don't let your emotions distract you so much,” he said. “Or else you'll never make the kill. Then it'll be you that gets killed, Evers.”

  He strode off, leaving me utterly confused. What did Chance mean by all these strange words – these esoteric hints at a danger I did not understand, but could nevertheless sense deep within myself?

  Was it him I was in danger from?

  Chance strode over to the door by the exit. Misty was waiting for him, her blue hair even more shocking in the harsh yellow lights. Chance put his arm around Misty's shoulders and the two walked out together, leaving me standing on the mat. Alone.

  Chapter 11

  I passed through the locker room in a haze, most confused than ever. As I changed back into my day dress, I did my best to ignore Misty, who was changing into a thoroughly school-inappropriate outfit of black leather pants, knee-high boots, and studded spike collars, treating me with a neutrality so perfectly polite that it was clear she had no idea what I'd done with her boyfriend. But even here, in the girls' locker room, as far away from Chance as I was likely to get in this school, I felt his presence still. Why did I let such a cad have such power over me? Why had I let him treat me the way I did? And I hadn't just hoped he'd kissed me, either. I'd gone straight up to him and gone for the kill myself. I'd kissed him.

  Maybe it was all just in my head. The flames at the luau, the looks we'd shared at the dance, our electric connection – maybe I'd invented them all as part of a stupid crush. Maybe he'd never had any interest in me at all. After all, from insulting me at the dance to pulling away from our last kiss, he'd done his best to push me away. Maybe he was making it clear that he wasn't interested – and I was just being desperate and pathetic, little better than a stalker.