Roarke steps up next to him and lets me go so I can edge as close as possible to the warmth of the flames without getting burnt.
I shoot looks into the darkness – hoping to spot Pax, with or without his glowing eyes. Nothing. The fire begins to melt a layer of ice from my skin. It’s not that cold, colder than last night probably - because of the storm and the fact that everything is wet - but not middle of winter cold. Not snowfall cold – even though the seasons are turning closer and closer toward being chuckin’ freezing.
“How did you even get a fire going?” I ask.
“I dug the wet ground out, and Eydis had dry wood stacked under the house,” Killian says, carefully turning a small piece of meat over.
He looks at the underside, then without warning flicks it at me. I squeak and jump back, but at the same time decide that the thing needs to be caught, and I snatch it out of the air. It instantly burns my fingers, making me gasp bralls-this-is-hot noises as I juggle the meat back and forth.
“Crap, Killian. What did you do that for?” I demand.
I risk a glance up at him, just a quick one. He’s smiling, leaning towards a second piece of meat. With the first still burning my hands, I take a really big step back and behind Roarke, alternating between juggling the meat and sucking on the stinging tips of my fingers.
“That wasn’t funny,” I say.
Kicking him probably wouldn’t work. The guy would kick back, and I’d end up on my ass in the mud. But kicking mud at him – there’s an idea.
I draw my foot back as Seth’s hand lands on my shoulder – freezing me in place. “You’re going to get mud on our food.”
A barely-restrained sigh escapes me. Fine.
He leans in close to my ear and whispers, “We’ll get him later.”
“I heard that, Chaos.”
“I knew you would, Darkness.”
Seth moves past me, leans in, and snags a piece of meat from the rack. He takes a bite, chewing it slowly. Of course, he’s barely affected – he’s probably healing as fast as he’s burning.
So jealous right now. Just because they’re this tiny bit different to me – namely that they have magic – doesn’t mean they should have this massive advantage over me. If I could steal it, I would.
Maybe I can?
“I want to hijack your ability to heal,” I say, lifting my now-sore-from-Killian-throwing-burning-hot-meat-at-me fingers in the air and waggling them a little for emphasis. “I’m sick of being bruised, broken, and now also burnt.”
Three sets of eyes dart to meet mine, then run over me in sharp inspection.
Strength suddenly rushes through me, and I know without looking that Pax has stepped through the edge of my bubble. I turn in time for him to grab my hand. He lifts it into the light of the fire. They’re red – but they’re not going to blister. Years of handling hot pots and boiling water have given me some pretty good calluses.
“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Seth says.
“Shut up, Seth,” I mutter.
“She’s fine,” Killian grunts, pointing at me with the stick he was using to turn the meat. The tip’s glowing from almost being set on fire.
Pax nods, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “Is it worth the risk?”
Roarke rolls his shoulders and flexes his neck. “Trying isn’t going to hurt, much. Succeeding might.”
“Hurt how?” I ask.
“Well, if you get it wrong, you could do more damage. Tear through muscles, misalign the bone.”
“There are ligaments, arteries, veins. A bone too hard or too soft will break again. Too many variables,” Killian adds.
“You guys heal fine,” I grumble.
“We heal naturally. What you’re talking about is not natural for your body,” Roarke says, his tone soft, almost compassionate.
“Do mortals have a limit on the number of times they can get knocked out before they don’t wake up?” Seth asks.
Pax glares at him, but Killian offers me a look that says he’d love to find out.
“I think it’s worth the risk,” I say, “And it’s my decision.”
“No, it’s not,” all four of them bark at me.
“Chuck yes, it is. If you’re not going to help me, I’m just going to try on my own. Apparently I’m pretty good at accidentally doing shit.”
Pax groans, running a hand down his face. “We’re safe here, for now? You increased the domain’s protections?” he asks, looking to Roarke and getting a sharp nod before continuing. “You just try not to be – you… while we’re here, and you will heal on your own.”
“She’ll be fine,” Killian adds, flicking another piece of meat across the fire.
Pax snatches it out of the air without even looking. “I’ll hold it until it cools.”
“You don’t get the final say on this, Pax. It’s my arm,” I argue as he walks over to the meat piled on the edge of the grate – just out of the reach of the flames – and picks up a piece of raw meat.
All of my arguments evaporate from my tongue – because he is not about to eat a piece of raw meat?
He can’t?
He pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly like it’s delicious. But it’s completely, still bleedingly, raw!
I don’t finish my argument. Can’t, because if I open my mouth, it will be to gag. Especially when he grabs another piece from the waiting-to-be-cooked pile and starts to devour it too.
My meat cools, and we eat piece after piece until the whole deer, or whatever it was, is gone. All of Pax’s are bloody.
The moon is hanging directly over our heads with a large chunk taken out of it. I’m about to declare that I’m tired when Killian snags me around the waist and lifts me in the air. My indignant squeal doesn’t even slow him down.
“Put me down.”
He does, dropping me to my feet in the
