The curse emphasized the rage of blood in her ears and the crackle of the fire building underneath her skin. The last of the water from her shower evaporated, encasing her in wrath-induced vapor.
“Because I called the premier. Last night. When you went out.”
Her blood turned to thousands of tiny knives, scraping her raw from the inside. It was like the treeman had come for her again and she was running for her life, unable to catch the breath that would give her flame.
“Why?”
His blink was a beat too long. “To confront him about sending an earth elemental to attack you.”
The sweet ash and smoke from inside her body crept up onto her tongue, begging to be released. “And why would you ever think that the head of the Senatus would come after me? Why would he even know where I was?”
When he didn’t answer, she took a Chimeran breath and spit fire into her hand. It was an involuntary reaction, that thing she’d tried to explain to Griffin years ago, when Makaha had used fire to express frustration and Griffin had read it as an attack.
“Talk,” she said. “And don’t fucking lie to me. You’ve already been caught. They sent you, didn’t they? They sent you and you’ve been lying to my face this whole time.”
“No.” He came for her, arms raised as if to touch her face, his expression a fake seriousness that did nothing but mock her. “That’s not what—”
“No more lies!” she screamed, the fire leaping from her hand. She snapped it back before it could hit the bed and do any damage, but her control was weak under the pressure of growing rage, and the odor of singed polyester clung to the air.
“Fine.” He was the Ofarian leader now, all glower, his body set like a statue. “No more lies. Let me explain.”
“Explain that the Senatus ordered you to stop me from going for the Source? Explain that you fucking lied to me about it? Over and over again? Explain that all this”—she waved her unlit arm at the bed, the sheets rumpled and twisted from the writhing of their bodies—“was to get me to turn away and satisfy them?”
“That’s not true.”
She laughed bitterly. “Which part?”
“The last part.”
She wasn’t dumb enough to fall again for the emotion in his eyes. “Bullshit!” He turned his face away from the blast of heat her word threw at him. When the heat died his eyelids flipped up, and there was such torture dancing across his brown irises. Oh, he was good. A real goddamn actor.
“The Senatus didn’t send me,” he said, his voice far too even. “I volunteered. And yes, I came to stop you. But you already knew that. I never lied about that.”
The word “Senatus” sent an uncharacteristic icy shiver across her skin. “They promised you a seat if you brought me in. Didn’t they?”
“Yes. They did.” And by the way he answered without pause or expression, she knew he was telling the truth. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“No, you didn’t want me to find out, period.”
“It was me or them coming after you, Keko. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it be them.”
“Why you? And do not feed me some rancid meat story about how you care so much for me you didn’t want to see me hurt.”
He rolled his lips inward, slowly shaking his head. “I didn’t want to see you dead. If the premier’s team hunted you, you would’ve run twice as hard to get away. You would’ve found a way to get to the Source, I have no doubt about that. And when you got there, the Children would’ve had free rein to kill you. They said exactly that. I wasn’t going to just stand there and let that happen. Not when I knew, deep down, that you would’ve paused for me. If anyone had a chance to get you to turn back and remain alive, it would’ve been me.”
She felt like a worse fool than the day her kapu affair and her broken heart had been revealed to Bane and the chief. “Why do the Children care so much?”
He had the nerve to step closer. She blew more fire up her arm, the whole thing one giant, beautiful flame. She didn’t care, as long as the traitor stayed away.
Griffin stopped and raised his palms. “Keko. The Fire Source is part of the earth. If it’s disturbed, it has the power to move tectonic plates, make volcanoes erupt, cause massive earthquakes.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t believe that. There’s nothing in the legends or history that talk about that kind of destruction.”
“Aya said it herself. She overheard Chief and Bane telling me privately about you and your quest, and she sprung up out of the earth, almost exactly like that treeman did, and she demanded in front of the whole Senatus that you be stopped, or else they would kill you.”
Aya? No. Not quiet, inquisitive Aya. Not the strange woman whom Keko had dared to consider a friend. Keko felt disturbingly weak and painfully blind. Brave Queen, why was she so damn stupid sometimes?
Unless . . . unless Aya had placed faith in Griffin that he could stop Keko and prevent a Chimeran death at the hands of the Children. That tactical and political maneuver made more sense, but it still hurt—all this deception, all this manipulation, when Keko just wanted to make things right for her people.
“Do you see now?” Griffin said. “Do you get it? I couldn’t let that happen, just let them hunt you. So, yes, I came to stop you, but it was to prevent massive destruction, too. I didn’t tell you that part because I knew you’d think I was lying just to make you give it all up.”
She stood there so long trying to process his words that the fire on her arm died. When it went out, he heaved a visible sigh.
“When I came here,” he said, “I thought that you were about to destroy yourself in the name of a ridiculous, outdated bit of Chimeran culture. I continued to think that up until last night, when you told me the real reason why you’re here. Your conviction and your purpose are stronger than anything I’ve ever known, stronger than any Source, touched or untouched. Something changed in me last night. You changed me.” He placed a hand on his bare chest, the gesture infuriatingly sincere. “And I want to tell you that I no longer wish to stop you. I want to help you succeed.”
The only sound in the room was the still-running shower. It created a drone in her mind, convoluting all these statements and stories he’d fed her. Messing with her emotions.
Water. Ruining everything.
“You don’t want to help me.”
“Yes. I do.” Another step closer. “These last three years have been a waste. An absolute fucking waste. I believe in what you have to do for your people—this disease, this cure—because I would do exactly the same for mine. And I want to help you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars. Stars. His stars. The ones he swore on before she told him about the Chimeran disease.
What had she done?
Opening her eyes, she saw him inching closer. She showed him the fire in her irises and in the back of her throat, and he stopped coming forward.
Then he repeated, “I want to help you.”
No. She would not fall for his words again. “Stop. Fucking. Saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“There is no truth when it comes to you. Except maybe for this.” Right as she said it, his game became entirely clear. The whole thing unfolded before her, taking on the color of fury. She formed a new fireball in her hand and went right up to him, teasing him with death and magic.
All he did was fold his arms and stare her down. “This should be good.”
“What if you orchestrated the premier’s death?”
He sputtered before finally ejecting a: “What?”
“It makes sense. I think you had no trouble at all trading me for your precious Senatus seat. I think the moment you heard about me running loose you saw your opportunity and grabbed it.”