Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(13)



I almost choked.

He hadn’t said my name. He’d used my nickname… well, my old nickname… on her. My face burned. He didn’t notice my glare. He was still talking to her, laughing. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and I heard a loud pop, or maybe felt it. I was off balance for a moment and then I realized it was fire.

I gasped as I looked around to see how many of them noticed. Everyone. Not that I could blame them, I had blown fireballs out of my squeezed fists so hard they had actually been audible.

They stood motionless, staring at me.

Finally, Ruby spoke. “Frey… are you alright?”

I took stock. “Yeah.” What just happened?

She took a tentative step toward me. “Have you been practicing your fire?”

I shook my head; I hadn’t practiced at all since the girl had shown up.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine.” I held up my hands. Maybe I should try to do it again?

“No!” She must have read my intentions. “Please, Freya, if you must, then do it away from here.”

I took a closer look at my surroundings, I had burned or singed pretty much everything in a ten-foot radius. “Sorry.” I started to walk off; Chevelle had joined me before I’d gone two paces. He was silent as he walked beside me.

When we were much more than a safe distance from the others, he finally stopped. So I stopped as well, but a few steps later. I couldn’t place his expression as I glanced over my shoulder at him so I simply faced forward and took a deep breath. I had to force myself not to close my eyes, though I still squinted some, as I held my hands out to release the flame. But once I had, I knew my eyes were wide; I was astonished at the size and power of it and it hadn’t even tired me. I turned back to Chevelle, I thought he was hopeful. Or maybe he was just trying not to laugh at my expression.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Good.” I smiled. And then I felt like a dork so I straightened up to match his posture.

That almost made him laugh. He stepped toward me.

I froze.

We were alone. And he’d positioned himself square in front of me, not an arm’s length away. Not near that far. He didn’t speak, he just looked into my eyes, like he was searching for someone.

At that moment, I remembered touching him. I remembered looking at his strong hands and placing my fingers just so on his.

And I did.

Before I could process what had happened, his other hand was bringing my face to his for a desperate kiss.

It only lasted a moment before he realized his mistake. He pulled back to look at me again as he spoke softly, almost a whisper. “Who are you?”

I shook my head and he understood. He pulled slightly away from me. I was ashamed, I had no excuse for my actions. I’d tricked him. The power, the touch. And then I got lost in the thought… I had remembered the touch. I looked back at him. “What’s happening?”

His face was pained but he didn’t have time to answer. We heard the voices of Grey and Anvil as they approached. Chevelle stepped back from me as we waited for them.

My head spun. The three of them had started an apparently serious conversation but I couldn’t tell what it was about. I merely followed them and massaged my temples as we made our way back to the camp. Steed was still near the girl, quiet. Ruby had my blankets out and I went straight to them, lay down and closed my eyes.





My dreams were confusing. They were almost all about Chevelle, but some were horrifying and some were not. I dreamt of the touch but instead of the memory, which was not at all romantic, only personal, the dream included the kiss. And I dreamt of things that were not tainted with memory, only fantastic and impossible. I had some of the old dreams as well, clinging to him as we rode away from the flames, tears and ash smearing my cheeks. There was the dream of the cliff, too. I stood looking out, across the horizon and he stepped beside me, placing his hand gently at the small of my back. But this time, when he shoved me off, instead of flailing the entire way down, wings popped out and caught the air as I took flight, soaring in the empty expanse.

I woke to the sound of quiet laughter and was irritated to find them surrounding her again. I rode in silence through the day, relishing a couple of the better dreams.

Once we had reached the base of the mountain, the terrain had turned almost immediately to level ground. The trees were wiry and jagged-looking but they were trees. And there was grass. But instead of feeling relief at the more familiar landscape, I wondered how big a mistake I’d made by leaving the castle.

We stopped for the evening under the sparse shelter of a patch of those trees. It was warmer so I excused myself to change out of the heavy leather boots and wool pants into something a little more suitable. I opened my bag to find that Ruby had packed me only black with leather or silver accents. So much for something light. At least it wasn’t all wool. I threw on the first pants I found, switched my shirt, and laced the lightest corset over it. I threw my cloak over my arm and walked back to the camp, muttering about my red-headed wardrober.

When I saw them, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing. Steed was sitting opposite the human, so close that it was almost indecent. I focused on walking to my bags, across the camp from them, and putting my cloak and pack away. I took as long as I could but, eventually, I had to join the group. I thought I tasted blood.

Melissa Wright's Books