“No, the school was empty. Friday after midterms, remember? The fire will burn off quickly—it’ll likely stay confined to the classroom,” Logan said, holding out his hand to help me up. I grabbed his snowy hand and pulled myself off the roof, grunting when I tugged against the wound in my side. The agonizing pain had stopped, leaving me with a piercing, throbbing sting.
“Just a few more roofs, and we’ll be around the corner from the school. Should be far enough away that no one will see us,” he said, before gesturing to my side as we stepped around a cell phone tower. It shimmered as it reflected the fire that still covered me. “My uncle can fix that for you. We’re lucky you only got hit with a spark.” Logan frowned.
“All this from a spark?” I asked, wincing as I remembered the blinding pain. My fingers—that weren’t intertwined with his—reached around to my side, where there was a gaping, burned-out hole in the fabric of my shirt, exposing the side of my pale pink bra. I clutched the singed edges of the fabric, trying to pull them closed.
“Does it hurt less now?” Logan asked, reaching out his hand to look at the wound—and then stopping short when he realized that part of my bra cup was exposed. He quickly looked away, dropping my hand. I could have sworn he blushed, but then everything looked pretty red to me at that moment.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize—because you’re on fire and all that....” Logan stammered, turning his head.
I awkwardly folded my arms across my chest, trying to keep my voice at a normal tone so Logan wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt as much. Why is that?”
“You absorbed Blaise’s power,” Logan explained as he pulled off his blue sweater, standing in the cold in his white button-down shirt. “You’ll be more tolerant of heat and fire—that includes burns,” he explained, meeting my eyes before deliberately forcing himself to stare anywhere else. He awkwardly held out the sweater, his elbow locked straight as he gripped the balled-up fabric. “You’d make an excellent fireman—um, firewoman. You know, because you’re immune to fire now,” he rambled. “Put this on. You know, because of the, um...half-naked...just put it on.”
He waved the sweater at me, and I reached for it before pulling my flame-covered hand back.
“Won’t this burn? Wool is really flammable.”
“No. The fire only hurts flesh.”
“But it melted the snow.”
“Yeah, because they’re opposite elements. You have to focus to set fire to something nonliving. Please, just trust me and put the sweater on,” Logan said quickly, keeping his eyes aloft as he pushed the sweater closer to me. I grabbed it and slid it on quickly, careful of my injured side.
“Are you, um, covered?” he asked, and I nodded before finding my voice.
“Yeah, I’m decent.” I pushed up the long sleeves on the navy sweater, the extra wool bunching up at my elbows.
“Okay, let’s go.” I followed him as he led the way across the building, his steps swift and steady. I realized Logan had my backpack on, my coat tucked into the straps. The bag hung normally, not at all affected by Logan’s magic invisible sword. Probably because the operative word there is magic, genius.
“Hey, thanks for grabbing my backpack,” I said, my face burning with embarrassment—and, you know, fire—when I realized that I also hadn’t thanked him yet for saving my life.
“Couldn’t exactly leave evidence that you were there.” Logan shrugged dismissively as fire truck sirens began to wail nearby.
“Okay, we just have to make this one jump, and we’re set.” Logan had stopped talking and was waving a hand to the five-foot gap between the building we were currently on—and the roof of the building next door.
“No,” I whispered, terrified. I backed away from edge.
“No?” Logan’s brows pulled together in confusion.
“I’m—I’m afraid of heights,” I confessed, wringing my flaming hands together.
“Seriously?” His lips quirked up in an amused smile.
“Yes, seriously!” I retorted, looking around the roof for another way out. Maybe I could go back to Holy Ass and leave through the front door.
Yeah, right, like they won’t think the girl on fire has something to do with the inferno on the fourth floor.
Logan chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“It’s not funny! I’m going to be stuck on this roof.”
“Paige, I just watched you fearlessly kill a fire demon, and you’re going to tell me you’re afraid of heights?” Logan crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side, a thoroughly entertained smile on his face. “It’s a little funny.”
“I just watched a fire demon kill a classmate while I stood there, powerless,” I replied quietly, staring down at the rivulets of melted snow running past my feet. “There’s nothing funny about any of this.”
Logan was instantly contrite. “I’d bet that you didn’t just stand there, but you’re right. Look,” he sighed, taking off his hat to run his hand through his thick brown hair, “I’m sorry. I’m just a little jaded. Blaise isn’t my first demon.”
“How many have there been?”
Logan’s eyes looked up, and he bobbed his head from left to right, as if he were counting in his head.
“Let’s just say, a lot.”
“A lot of fire demons?”
“Quite a few of those, actually.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Arrogant, snide, just nasty.”
“What other kinds are there? Tell me about the biggest, baddest demon you beat,” I wheedled.
“As much fun as it would be for me to stand around bragging, you won’t put off this jump by having me tell war stories. I know what you’re doing. You’re not that smooth.” He repeated my words from the classroom back at me, and I blushed. “Look, this jump is really easy. I’ve done this a billion times.”
“That’s you, not me.”
“You can do this. I’ll go first. But we have to go soon before anyone sees us. It’s dark out and, well, you kind of stand out,” he added, and I looked down at my burning feet again, frowning.
“Can you try to calm down? That should calm the flames.”
“I’ll give it a shot.”
Calm down, calm down. I slammed my eyes shut as I tried to relax, but images of Blaise’s bulging eyes and hungry mouth and Travis’s tortured face fought for dominance behind my eyeballs.
When I opened my eyes, the fire seemed actually brighter.
“Sorry,” I whispered. Logan frowned and put his hands on my flaming shoulders.
“Okay, try this.” Logan’s voice was low, soothing. “Shut your eyes again.”
I squeezed them tightly shut, screwing up my face in concentration, and Logan laughed gently.
“Just close them. You look like you’re hurting yourself.”
I could practically hear the smirky smile in his voice. With some effort, I relaxed my face.
“The thing to remember is that you control it. It’s a part of you,” Logan explained, his voice soft but confident. “Try to feel the fire.”
“I can’t feel anything,” I fretted.
“I couldn’t at first, either. I was on fire in the middle of a football field. I’m pretty sure there’s a town in Michigan that tells stories about the flaming ghost of Novi High, running like a maniac through the high school, ripping his burning clothes off because he doesn’t know what’s happening.”
“Seriously?” I asked, my eyes springing open.
“No, not seriously. Now, close your eyes again,” he added, that amused little smirk still on his face.
I rolled my eyes before shutting them.
“Now, here’s what worked for me. Think of it like a muscle that you didn’t know you had, that you didn’t realize you were flexing. Do you feel it?”