Into the Fire (13 page)

“Something wrong?” Logan twirls my hair around his finger.

“Just needed some air.”

“I guess I need to learn to control myself a little better around you, but after the way you pulled me into the pool…”

Warmth rushes to my cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me.” Yes, I do. The imprint. The intense heat I give off.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining. Not at all.” He lets go of my hair. “But I don’t want to push you, either. I know this is all happening fast.”

It has to. I have less than a month. “I’m fine with it. Better than fine actually.”

“I’d never—I’ll follow your lead.”

It takes everything inside me not to crush his lips with mine, but I feel my temperature rising. I need space. Just a little, to get myself under control. “Want to go for a walk? I could give you that tour.” The look in his eye says that’s not at all what he wants right now. I loop my arm through his, happy to have the leather jacket between us, and lead him out to the sidewalk. I don’t want to go by the café. If Monique sees us, she’ll tell Mom, and my plan to sneak around with Logan will be over. I head to the fields. There’s a good chance people will be there, but none over the age of twenty, so I’m safe.

“Are you avoiding town for a reason?”

“Just want to show you things you probably haven’t seen.”

He stops and turns to me. “You’re afraid of someone seeing us and telling your mom you’re with me, aren’t you?” His tone is more hurt than accusatory.

“Why do you think that?” My eyes lower to the sidewalk.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He raises my chin with his index finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Your mom doesn’t like me?”

“That’s not it.”

“What, then?”

You’re not a Phoenix, and she doesn’t want to deal with the backlash when I can’t remember you, but you think we’re still dating. Or worse, if I
do
remember you and I outlive you by four lifetimes.
I shrug. “She’s being overprotective.”

Out of nowhere a dog runs out in front of us, barking and baring its teeth.

“Cara!” Logan pulls me behind him. Luckily, he lets go quickly, because I’m burning up. The dog keeps coming at us, snarling. “When I tell you, walk toward the fields.”

The dog snaps its jaws, grazing Logan’s jacket. In one quick motion, he removes his jacket and holds it out to the dog. “Want this? Come on. Come get it.” He walks slowly away from me, luring the dog. It follows, sniffing the air, no longer baring its teeth. “Go, Cara. Very slowly, so you don’t spook him.”

I back away, keeping my eyes on Logan. I’ve never seen the dog before, and it’s not wearing a collar. Logan leads the dog away from me. I’m not sure how he thinks he’s going to get away. He’s not going to throw his jacket. It means too much to him. He inches backward, and his foot slips off the sidewalk. Tires screech.

“Logan!” I shriek so loudly that the dog runs out into the road, yelping. The car swerves and hits Logan from behind, sending him toppling onto the hood, and the windshield shatters down on him.

Cara

The sound coming from my mouth is otherworldly. It could shatter time, and I’m pretty convinced it shattered the car’s windshield, because Logan never touched it. I knew Phoenix cries could make people go deaf but this... I rush forward, reaching for him. The car hit the curb before it hit him, so it wasn’t moving all that fast, and Logan sort of rolled up onto it. Thank God!

“Logan!” I reach him before the driver can get out of the car.

The guy has his phone out. “I tried to stop, but he just stumbled into the road, and then the dog ran out in front of me. I didn’t know which way to swerve. I tried to aim for the curb.”

“Logan.” It’s all I can say. He’s lying on the hood of the car, staring at the sky, not moving at all.

“I’ve got 911 on the phone,” the driver says, and now I see it’s Mr. Morgan, the mailman.

“Cara?”

I touch Logan’s face, needing to feel the warmth in his cheeks and prove he’s alive. “I’m right here. Don’t move, okay? Mr. Morgan is on the phone with 911. They’ll be here soon. Just hang on.”

“Cara, I’m okay.”

What? Is he Superman or something? He was just hit by a car. He’s anything but okay. “Listen, you’re probably in shock—”

“No.” He moves his hands up toward his chest, and I realize he’s trying to sit up.

“Don’t! The car is covered in glass. So are you. If you try to move, you’ll get cut.”

I can’t believe this is happening. I’m going to have to take Logan to Mom again. It’s going to mean the end of us.

“Can you use my jacket to brush the glass off me? I’d really like to sit up. This position is killer on my back.”

He’s delirious. He has to be. “Just stay still.”

“Cara, listen to me.”

He reaches for my hand, and my heart skips. The gesture’s so insignificant compared to what just happened, but I can’t help relishing his touch. Maybe it’s the severity of the situation, but I actually feel like I can deal with my abilities right now and keep my temperature under control, which is good, because I don’t want to let go of him.

“I’m okay. The car barely hit me. I fell onto the hood, and then the windshield shattered.”

This is bad. He knows he didn’t hit the windshield. How am I supposed to explain what happened? “You must have hit it.”

“No, I didn’t even touch it.” He lifts his head. “Look where I am. I’m nowhere near the windshield.”

“You must have slid back down the hood.”

“I’d have glass stuck in my back and legs if that were true.”

“Just please humor me and stay put.”

“Will you get my jacket?”

I scan the road. His jacket’s on the ground by the driver’s side door. I pick it up and brush it off, making sure it isn’t torn. It looks fine. “Here.” I gently place it in Logan’s hand.

“Thanks.” He uses it to brush the glass off himself.

“What are you doing?” He shouldn’t be moving around this much. Not before Mom checks him out.

“Well, I asked you to do it for me, but you wouldn’t.” He smirks and sits up. “See, I told you I’m fine.”

Mr. Morgan hangs up the phone and walks over. “Hey, you probably shouldn’t do that until the paramedics get here.”

“That’s what I told him.” I try to glare at Logan, but I’m too happy he’s alive and in one piece to actually be mad. I end up smiling instead.

Since the ambulance and police have already been called, we sit on the curb and wait to give them a statement.

“You’re really okay?”

He holds out his hands. “Ten fingers.” He reaches for his face. “Eyes, nose, mouth.” My eyes linger on his lips, and he laughs. “Nice to know you’re checking to see if my mouth is in working order.”

“I was so scared.”

He scoots closer so our bodies are touching and reaches one hand toward my face. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mr. Morgan back away. We must be making him uncomfortable, but I don’t care. Logan gently pulls my chin toward him. Our lips meet, and I can’t help thinking the car must have hit both of us and sent us directly to heaven because I can’t imagine a better feeling than Logan’s lips on mine.

Sirens blare, tearing me out of the moment. For the first time ever, I curse how small this town is. Couldn’t it have taken the paramedics just a minute longer to get here? Logan pulls away, but he leans his forehead against mine. Things are about to get a lot worse.

Officer Monroe pulls up to the curb. I wonder how long he’ll wait before he calls Mom. He gets out of the car and walks over to us. “Cara, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Logan’s the one who’s hurt.”

“Really, I’m okay,” Logan says. “The car barely hit me.”

Officer Monroe gestures to the smashed windshield. “Doesn’t appear that way.”

“I don’t know how that happened. I—”

“Logan.” I grab his arm, but I let go immediately because Officer Monroe is glaring at me. “I think you should let the paramedics check you out. I’ll give a statement to Officer Monroe.”

Logan opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but the paramedics are already bending down and shining a light into his eyes.

I stand up, giving him a weak smile, and follow Officer Monroe—Garret, as I call him when we’re alone—to the other side of his car, out of earshot.

“What the hell happened, Cara?” He motions toward the car. “By the look of that boy, he didn’t cause that windshield to break. He’s fine, no worse than if he fell on his behind.”

“I don’t know what happened. I just reacted. I saw the car coming, and I screamed. Then the windshield just shattered.”

“Because your cry shattered it. I’m sure your mother explained this to you. You probably blew that dog’s eardrums, too.”

“Call me insensitive, but I’m not really worried about the dog right now.” My arms flail out and smoke rises from my fingertips.

Garret grabs my hands and smothers the smoke. “Get ahold of yourself.” He looks around, making sure no one saw. “This could expose you. Do you know how dangerous it would have been if a Hunter had been around? If it had been a Hunter driving the car?”

“I don’t think Hunters work for the postal service.” I can’t curb my sarcasm. We haven’t had a Hunter around in years, and all I’m worried about is Logan finding out the truth about me.

“Fine, but Logan seems to know he didn’t break that windshield.”

“I know. Can’t you make something up? Tell him his adrenaline covered up the pain of hitting the windshield?”

Garret scratches his beard. “Cara, do you realize this is the second time this week you’re asking me to cover for you? I expect to have to cover for Jeremy when he starts going out around people again, but you shouldn’t be this careless.”

Before I can answer, Logan walks over to us. “The paramedics said I’m fine. A few minor bruises, nothing major. I got lucky.”

I sigh, relieved it’s nothing more. “Can we go now?” I ask Garret.

“You have someone at home who can look after you in case you start to feel any effects of the accident?” Officer Monroe asks. “Whiplash and other injuries aren’t always evident right away. If you don’t even remember hitting the windshield, it could mean trauma to your head, even if it’s not physically noticeable yet.”

I nod my head slightly, and Logan must think I’m agreeing, but Garret knows I’m thanking him for covering for me… again.

“Um, my dad will be home this evening.”

“I’d really rather not release you if you don’t have someone—”

“I’ll stay with him,” I volunteer, hoping Mom hasn’t told Garret I’m not supposed to hang out with Logan.

“Well, seeing as your mother is a nurse, I’ll allow it. Just keep her on speed dial, okay?”

“You got it.”

“Now, can I give you two a ride?”

“My car is at Logan’s house. You can take us there.”

Garret gives me a look, probably wondering why my car is at Logan’s when we’re out walking. “I’d feel better if you were going somewhere with adult supervision. How about I take you to your house?”

“Um, Jeremy is still sick, and Mom’s at work. Linette’s there but only until—what time is it?” I grab Garret’s wrist and turn it toward me so I can read the time. Eleven forty-five. “Ugh, she’s going to kill me!”

“Relax,” Logan says. “She works for me. She can be a little late.” He motions to my hand on Garret’s arm. “You probably shouldn’t just grab a police officer like that, though.”

“Oh!”

Garret gives me a look for being careless around Logan again. People know Garret and my mom are friends, but seeing me this comfortable around him might make people connect us on another level—a Phoenix level, if people know what to look for.

“Sorry, Officer Monroe.”

“Seeing as you just witnessed an accident and were attacked by a dog, I’ll let it slide.”

Man, he’s good at covering for me.

“All right. Hop in, you two. I’m taking you to Cara’s house. Logan, you can have your father pick you up there later.”

“But—”

Garret glares at me, and I shut up. He opens the back door of his patrol car and lets us in.

Logan takes my hand in his, which makes Garret keep a close eye on us. I have to focus all my energy on keeping my body temperature normal… for a human. Not easy to do when I know I’m going to have to explain to Mom why my car is parked at Logan’s house. I take out my phone and text Rachel.

Need a favor.

I’m listening.

My car’s at Logan’s. Need you to bring it to my house.

K but I want details later.

Thank God Rachel’s an “act first, ask questions later” kind of friend.

Logan squeezes my hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Rachel’s going to get my car for me.”

“Wow, your mom must really not want you hanging out with me.”

Garret eyes me in the rearview mirror as he pulls up to my house. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, reaching for the door, completely forgetting the back doors only open from the outside.

Garret opens my door. “Logan, take it easy until your father gets here.”

“Will do.” Logan scoots out my side too. I push him toward the house before Garret can corner me. I’m going to hear enough from Mom. I don’t need any more from him.

“So this is your house,” Logan says, and it hits me that my house is nothing compared to his, and definitely not even in the same ballpark as his home back in New York.

“It’s not big, but there are only three of us.” As soon as I say it, I realize how dumb it sounds. Logan was in a family of three before his mom died. Now it’s just him and his dad, and their house is still bigger than mine.

“I like the color.”

“Now I know you’re lying. Guys never pay attention to the color of anything.”

“Not true. The bikini you wore when we met was black with teal trim.” He smiles, obviously impressed with himself.

“Nicely done, and extra points for knowing the color teal.”

“Thank you. I try.”

I hesitate at the door, not wanting to let Logan in. If he sees how little we actually have, he might decide I’m not anything special at all.

“Are we going to stand on the porch until your mom gets home?”

“She won’t be home for a while. I’m relieving Linette and taking over Jeremy duty.”