Hey, this is Erin, and what follows is a teaser from Chapter 1 of Fireborn, our August release. Enjoy!
“I can’t stop thinking about those deaths.”
Rick and I were in the car on our way to the veterinarian—an animal doctor—which was what normal cat owners did. Rick figured that Love looked pretty normal, with the exception of her razor-sharp claws and glowing eyes. She managed to dim them for now, and I hoped they’d stay dimmed. Or else we’d have lots of questions to answer.
I had been wondering how her general health was. Whether living outside the Underworld had caused any permanent effects. It didn’t seem that way, but what did I know? I was still impressed with indoor plumbing and telephones.
Rick glanced at me. “Are you are still being called?” He made a turn to the right.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…I want to fix it.”
“You can’t fix death, as extraordinary as you are.” He flashed me a grin.
“I don’t mean it that way,” I said, watching the scenery pass by. “I meant…change it…no, that’s not it.” I sighed. “This is tough to explain. I want to stop the suicides from happening.”
Rick stopped at a red light. “So you do want to help?”
“I feel like I should, you know? But this life means that I get to be normal again, and I don’t want to be involved with death anymore. I can’t decide.” My chest constricted. What I didn’t tell him was the wrongness that had been poking at me like a blade since the two suicides. Wrongness that needed to be righted.
Rick made the car go again and pulled into the parking lot of the veterinarian’s office. Love let out a pissed-off meow and a growl, just in case we couldn’t tell that she was mad about riding to an unknown, weird place in what amounted to a cage.
I was pretty sure that if it were me in there, I’d be mad, too.
Rick turned the car off and opened the door. “Let me carry her, okay? She’s heavy.” “That’s fine.” I got out of the car and looked at the place that would hopefully take good care of Love. She was our child.
Rick opened the back and retrieved our pissed-off hellcat. “I’m wondering if you should just do something. Get it out of your system.”
I nodded. “Maybe. But what can I do? I’m not—” We passed a couple who were leaving the veterinarian. The woman carried a cage with a squawking bird in it. “I’m no longer extraordinary,” I said softly.
“Then that solves the problem,” Rick said as he opened the door for me. “If you aren’t what you were, you can’t help, right?”
Love growled again.
“Relax, baby. We’re almost there,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. I’d never had kids. Or cats, for that matter. So I was guessing. “But what about how I am feeling? I can’t stand it.”
We walked into the veterinarian’s office. It was a brightly decorated, happy kind of place with pictures of animals on all four blue-painted walls. A large, long desk stood prominently in the center of the room. There were several other doors.
A large dog barked at us, and its owner said apologetically, “She’s friendly. Doesn’t bite. Sorry if she scared you.”
Another cat in a cage hissed when I passed it. Love hissed back.
The room bore the smell of several different animals. I wrinkled my nose and wondered if I should breathe through my mouth for the duration.
Rick went to the desk and talked briefly to one of the women there. She looked young, with glasses and a colorful outfit that looked to be a sort of uniform. Rick filled out some paperwork, then picked up Miss Grumpy and led me to some seats closer to the doors and away from the animals.
“So, um…what are we going to do?” Rick said softly. That was one of the things I loved most about him. We were a team. Whatever I did, I always had his full support. And I would do the same for him.
I stuck a finger into the cage and wiggled it. Love pounced on it, giving me her idea of love bites, which were like little needles. I let her get her aggression out on me for a bit. Maybe she’d wear herself out. “I don’t know. I want this life, Rick. I really do.”
Rick touched my cheek with a fingertip. “I know that. We’ve had an amazing life so far.”
“It’s only been a few months,” I said with a chuckle. “We have a long way to go yet.”
“The best few months of my life.”
I smiled. “You are such a romantic.”
“But don’t tell the guys at the bike shop. It’ll ruin my tough-guy image.”
A woman opened the door closest to us and stepped into the room. “Love?” She glanced at the papers in her hand. “Feline?”
We both stood.
What was the protocol? Let her take Love? Then what?
“That’s us,” Rick said, jolting me from my thoughts.
We walked over to the woman. She led us into another smaller, very bright and cheery room with more pictures of animals.
Rick set Love on the counter.
“You can let her out as soon as I leave and the door is closed.” She made a notation on a piece of paper. “I can tell she’s not a happy kitty.”
I glanced at Rick, one eyebrow arched. He chuckled.
The woman left the room, closing the door behind her.
Rick opened the cage. “Freedom!”
Love shot out and jumped down onto the floor. She made two whole circuits of the perimeter, then stopped and curled up, probably exhausted.
And I realized that all this turmoil was exhausting—and I was tired of my indecision. I had to help. Whatever the cost.
The veterinarian bustled in and introduced herself as Dr. Sutto. She examined our poor hellcat and did do the most unspeakable thing ever—a thermometer up her butt—and then squeezed and touched and prodded her. Love’s eyes glowed a few times, but Dr. Sutto didn’t notice. Love hissed at her several times, then went to batting her with a paw when she got close.
“It’s going to be okay,” I told Love, giving her a scratch behind her ears. “We just want you healthy.”
Love let out a yowl, which was probably the hellcat equivalent of “Screw you, Mom.”
“It looks like she’s fine, but I’d like to take some blood to make sure she’s good there,” Dr. Sutto said. “Has she had her shots? Heartworm pills?”
Rick looked mystified. “New cat owners here. Can you explain that?”
Dr. Sutto was patient as she explained everything. We agreed to the blood test—with more apologies to Love—and also agreed to the heartworm pills.
She could be immune. But who wanted to take that chance? She was basically a normal cat with, most likely, normal cat issues.
So we ended up leaving there three hundred dollars poorer, with an angry feline in a cage, and a box of pills we might or might not need.
Progress.
As we were getting into the car, I said, “I have to fix this.”
“The suicides?” Rick asked.
“Yes. Someone has to. And I guess it’s me.” I buckled myself in.
“Are you sure? This is pulling you back to your Reaper life.” Rick made a turn to the left.
“I think we should. I’m feeling these things for a reason,” I replied. Damn. I’d thought I could have a normal life. And now…it wasn’t going to happen.
Love let out a mournful cry, as if she agreed.
Apparently the party was just getting started.
Yay.
#
Fire, burning beneath my eyelids.
It woke me from sleep and beckoned me to follow it into the night. Hellfire! The feeling was back again and stronger.
“Leliel, what…” Rick murmured, still mostly asleep.
I got out of bed and started getting dressed. Love meowed plaintively, and I stopped and petted her a few times.
But the fire—I had to get to the fire. It was so wrong—
I had to investigate. Because that was what you did when you were mostly human and felt weird things and needed to set things to rights.
I switched on the lamp on my night table.
“Leliel?” Rick’s eyes opened and squinted at me. “What are…what are you doing? Is it morning yet?”
Who’d be crazy enough to get out of bed and get dressed at two-thirty in the morning? Me, of course. The feeling wasn’t going away; in fact, it intensified—again—and filled my veins. “There’s something wrong.” I slid on my shoes and reached for my jacket. “I have to go.”
And then I saw it.
A young man. Port wine stain on his left elbow. Appendix scar on his abdomen. His mother had thought it was indigestion, and he had nearly died. How did I suddenly just know that?
He was sitting in a small room on a recliner. The recliner was old, with frayed edges. The room was warm and welcoming. Not a place of death.
He was on fire, flames reaching high, engulfing his body. His skin turned black; his fingers and toes fused together.
He was screaming, his flesh melting, his hair disintegrating.
Someone whispered one word: “Vengeance.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “I need to go…”
Rick sat up. His longish hair was sticking out every which way. “I’m going with you.”
I headed for the bedroom door. “I can’t wait. I have to—”
He grabbed my hand. It grounded me, brought me out of my haze. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
I took a breath, then exhaled. “There’s a fire. That way.” I pointed. “I just saw a young man being burned to death. I have to do something.”
“Oh, baby.” He got out of bed and wrapped his arms around me. “You had another vision?”
I pulled away. “Yes. I don’t understand, but something is telling me to go to him.”
“To save him, maybe?” Rick started getting dressed, too.
I shook my head. “No, we’re too late. But I still need to go there. There’s something important about it.”
Rick threw on his shirt and grabbed his keys. “Whatever it is, it must be huge.”
“For me to suddenly start having visions?” I asked. “Maybe.”
“Do you think it’s connected to the Underworld or His Highness?” Rick asked, his eyes narrowed. “Because that might make sense.”
His Highness was the king of the Underworld. And my former boss. I opened the door. “I’d say so. It’s clear that he isn’t through with me yet.”
Look for Fireborn, Reaper Girl Chronicles Episode Two, on August 1st.