Angel Blue: Season One
In the end, it takes Eanna tapping into her accursed gift before she’s able to give the fire life. She hasn’t been here in months, maybe longer. The door was difficult to open at first, and evidence of rodents and birds is scattered across the floor of the cabin. The makeshift pillows and blankets are frozen stiff as she lays her guest down to sweat over them. The cold never bothers her, but her guest is shivering.
From shock, she dimly thinks. She plops him on her pallet and begins her impossible task. The stench of his blood and sickness is overwhelming.
You should have killed him…burned out his damned soul…
Eanna shivers and adds kindling to the blue flames dancing in the hearth. Her fire will last longer, at least. As long as she doesn’t lose control again.
“I will not lose control,” she says to the flame.
Wil moans, and Eanna reluctantly turns. Dim firelight plays over his exposed, scarlet-streaked skin.
She looks to the bucket of snow beside her and the clean rags she made from an old blanket. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do.
“They are cursed, Anu,” Etlu’s voice chants in her head.
Eanna stiffens her spine as she wills her flame to grow. She brings the bucket and rags to his side and sets to work. Her hand trembles as she hesitates just above his ruined torso.
Wil’s voice rolls against her ear as his hips lazily press against hers, insistent and yet undemanding. “What are you doing celebrating your birthday alone, in a place like this?”
She turns her head, so her lips graze his scruff. “Enjoying myself.”
She mops blood off the hard planes of his chest. With each brush of her rag, the ruby stains give way to a coppery gold. His skin is so much warmer than her own, warmer than a human’s.
I should have noticed that night in the bar.
He had fooled her, in that den of human sweat and lust.
Sweat beads on his forehead as his face twists in pain. Eanna cannot look at his face without remembering their kiss. She watches the rise and fall of his chest. She dips the rag into the melting snow and brings it back to clean his bullet wounds. His legs are worse.
“They feel no pain, remorse, or compassion,” Etlu told her.
It doesn’t help assuage her guilt. This isn’t the first time she hates herself, but it is the first time she has betrayed everything her parents died for. He wears the face of a man she found comfort and connection with, nothing more.
He is cursed.
No matter how normal he looks now, all Eanna sees is the fire his people used to destroy hers. She should have killed him when she had the chance. If they are caught, no mercy will be granted to her, no matter her lineage.
This goes above and beyond sneaking outside the compound.
Her hand stills as her thumb accidentally brushes his golden torso. Heat from his skin shoots through her fingertip and up her arm. Her pulse accelerates.
“They will take off your head as soon as they look at you. They are hollow shells of nothing,” Etlu would remind her.
But Wil looks helpless now, so near to death. It is her fault. And no matter what he is, he made her feel alive for one stolen moment.