Mia turned her hands over to study herpalms. Unlike her thighs, the skin on her hands remained clear ofany blemishes. Her palms had been burned nearly as badly as herlegs, but the burns hadn’t covered as much of her body on her handsas they had on her thighs.
“When I first woke that night,” she said. “Itried to get down the hall to my parents’ room. Flames rolledacross the ceiling over my head, but despite the glow of the fire,I couldn’t see anything through the smoke.”
That was an understatement. She’d neverknown darkness could be as complete as what she’d experienced inthat hallway. The smoke clogging her nostrils, choking her lungs,and blinding her was something she would never forget. Nor wouldshe forget the racing of her heart or the sweat streaking down herface and stinging her eyes.
“I swung my hands helplessly back and forthto feel my way along a hall I’d known inside and out only hoursbefore. I remember feeling as if someone had dumped me into themiddle of a fucked-up funhouse and twisted things all around on me,making it impossible to find my way to the one destination I neverreached—my parents.”
Mia kept her gaze on her palms as shecontinued to speak. “I was almost to their bedroom when the floorgave out beneath me.”
She wiped away the sweat beading across herforehead as the memories she’d labored to overcome brought forth awave of fresh panic. She’d gotten better at dealing with her grief,but she’d never revealed what had happened that night to anyonebefore. It made her feel almost as vulnerable as she’d felt in thefire. She had to get through this, had to finally face itcompletely, and David had to know just how deeply scarred she wasboth outside and in.
Lifting her head, she focused on him again.She may have stopped talking if she discovered pity in his eyes.Instead, she saw only compassion. “I plummeted into the livingroom. Before I could register my broken ankle, a burning beam fellacross my legs, pinning me to the ground. The pain….”
Her screams echoed in her ears, and theblistering heat of the fire beat against her flesh once more. Sweatslid down her nape, gluing her sweater uncomfortably to her flesh.She didn’t bother to pull it away. It had taken her years torealize there would never be any escaping her memories.
“At first the pain was so encompassing Icouldn’t move. All I could do was scream as the flames ate away atmy skin and muscle. Then I heard my mother shouting my name and mysurvival instinct kicked in, as did my need to get to her. The beamwas the size of a tree trunk, but terror gave me a rush ofadrenaline. I shoved the beam off me enough that I was able to pullmyself out from under it.
“I dragged myself toward the main foyer asdebris and showers of sparks fell over me. The heat was impossibleto escape as flames encompassed everything around me. I screamedfor my mom the best I could through the smoke, but I’m not sure sheever heard me. When I got to the foyer, it was impossible to tellif the top half of the stairs still existed with all the smoke, butthe fire had already consumed the bottom half.”
Mia’s gaze went beyond him to the windowover his shoulder. The cardinal had returned to the tree. Itruffled its feathers and puffed itself out as it settled in,seeming to listen to her story too.
“I couldn’t see my mom, but I could stillhear her. I also knew I couldn’t get to her, not that way, butthere was no other way for me to go. My path to the back stairs wasblocked by more fire.”
CHAPTER 8
Mia’s eyes deepened in color to an almostocean blue as she spoke. With every word, her voice becameincreasingly raw and lanced with anguish. She sounded like smokechoked her once more, and David knew that in some ways it did—thememories, at least.
“What did you do?” he asked when sheremained silent.
“I dragged myself to the front door. Ipulled myself up to open it, before clawing my way across theporch, down the steps, and to the snow beyond. I can still recallthe sound of my burnt flesh sizzling when it came into contact withthe snow.”
David winced and twisted his hands behindhis back until he was sure he’d torn some of his skin away. It kepthim from pulling her close though.
“Then I looked back and I knew it was over.There was no way I could get back inside to my parents. The firewas everywhere, and it consumed everything I’d ever known. I stoodthere until I heard the distant wail of sirens. I still had enoughsense to know I couldn’t be taken to a hospital. I think it was mylast coherent thought.”
“Until Hartford.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do there?”
“When I came back to myself, I managed toget a hotel room and clean myself up. I stole some clothes from thepeople in the room next to mine. Unable to stay there for long, Ireturned to the streets after I’d fed on those people. At the time,I couldn’t pull myself together enough to do anything else. I hadnowhere else to go, no one to turn to. As turned vamps, my parents’families had died years before. I’d been homeschooled, and I had nofriends. My parents were all I’d ever known.
“So I wandered the streets, feeding from thepeople there and grouping together with other homeless teens. Ourhistories may have been different, but we all felt the cold and wewere all doing everything we could to survive. I knew one day myabilities would grow enough that I wouldn’t have to be homeless,yet I didn’t care. There wasn’t much I did care about during thosedays.”
“That’s understandable,” David said when hergaze went to the window beyond him again.
“Eventually, I moved to Florida with someguy I met. I can’t remember his name, only that he was numberthree, and the first vampire I was with.”
David’s teeth clamped together and his fangslengthened at the mention of her and another man. He would havegladly torn the head from that man if he’d been standing in frontof him right then. It was not a rational compulsion, but the ideaof anyone else touching her made him feel anything butrational.
“Number three?” he grated out.
“I numbered the guys who moved through mylife. It was easier that way, and I didn’t really care to knowtheir names.”
“I see,” he murmured.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “I’m not ashamedof my past or anything I’ve done in it. I may have someissues—okay, probably more issues thanAstronomymagazine—but I’m a survivor. There are many who wouldn’t have madeit through what I have, and despite the fact Ihatethatthere are times I can’t control my own body, I am proud that I’mstill here.”
