Page 26 of Ignite the Infernos

THE STACK RESEMBLES A BUZZING, busy hive as those of us staying behind visit each container like bees collecting pollen from flower to flower. I squint against the bright sun as I carry my load out of the stack’s ground floor over to the steadily growing pile in the middle of camp.

Sweat pours down my back and my chest, like I’m some kind of disgusting waterfall. I use my already-damp sleeve to mop my brow, but it doesn’t stay dry for more than a few seconds before sweat starts to trickle down my face again. What I wouldn’t give to be wearing Nixy’s suit right now. If I could charge it, I’d be walking around with my own personal AC unit fitted to my frame. Instead, I’m batting my lashes at heatstroke like some girl in a bar with beer goggles. Meanwhile my healing ability is telling the bartender I’m cut off and doing its best to get me to make good decisions and go the fuck home.

“Incoming!” Mayur shouts from above.

I look up just as he shoves a dresser out of a sixth-floor window. It comes crashing down, splintering into pieces on the layers of rusted metal shipping containers before smashing into the sand with an explosive boom.

“Clear!” Sofann announces as he and Amadi rush to collect the fractured furniture and add it to the pile before Mayur launches something else out the window to meet a sandy end.

“Here you go, Scioness,” Olinta offers, handing me a canteen.

“Thank you,” I puff, setting down my crate. I twist the top off and gulp down half the water before pouring the rest down my back and chest. The Scorch is earning its name today, and every time I look up at the sky, I wish I were seeing rain clouds collecting on the horizon instead of two dragons, back to drop off another load of supplies.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Gable cheers as he strides by. The big, burly Syphon tosses multiple bed frames onto the pile and then turns to continue wolf whistling at me. “It’s good to have you home, Scioness. First you break the curse, then you bring us bacon, and now a wet T-shirt contest. Be still, my heart.”

He slips a hand under his shirt and mimics a bulging heartbeat over his pec. The buffoonery coaxes a lazy smile out of me, which, of course, is the reaction he’s looking for, so I flip him off for good measure.

“Yes,” he purrs. “You know I love a girl who can talk dirty.”

“Get back to work, Gable,” Amadi snaps, and I flatten my lips to fight off a growing grin.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Gable whines. He plucks a canteen from Olinta’s hands and tosses it at the stern Syphon with a wag of his eyebrows. “You can play too, Amadi. Go on, you’ll hear no complaints from me.”

The freckles across Amadi’s nose and cheeks scrunch with distaste, and her ocean-blue eyes fill with indignation. She deftly catches the canteen and then promptly chucks it back at Gable. He barely dodges the missile, and his answering laughter hops across the sand like a flare hare in pursuit of its next meal.

“Oh, you want me to go first?” Gable teases, while plucking the canteen from the ground and brushing the sand off it. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Before anyone can object or try to run away, he tugs his shirt off and then sensually dumps water all over himself. I roll my eyes, trying not to crack up when he starts dancing while rubbing the small stream down his chest and torso.

Olinta claps, happily taking in the impromptu show. She bobs her head at the tawdry tune Sofann starts singing in support of Gable’s antics, and her brown braid bobs right along with her.

“Your turn,” Gable tells Amadi with a naughty little shimmy.

I laugh at the look on her face, and her glare snaps in my direction. The uptight Syphon is Enslee’s trusted friend and a member of her Flight, but Amadi throws her position around like it makes her better than everyone else. In a camp with minimal options for entertainment, you take what you can get, and pushing Amadi’s buttons is peak recreation—and entirely too easy.

Her irritated gaze rakes over me, and a snarl begins to form on her lips. “Would your mate approve of you shamelessly flirting with another male?” she sneers haughtily, and just like that, the levity Gable was working for deflates like a strangled balloon.

An uneasy quiet falls over the group, the shift from playful to serious instantaneous. My easy grin transforms into something sharp, and I study the stuck-up Syphon.

“Amadi,” I tsk, as though she’s nothing more than a mild disappointment. “You really should get out of these wards more and spend some time in the real world. Maybe then you’d know what flirting actually looks like.”

Amadi bristles. “If your version of flirting involves getting on your back for a Noctis, I think I’ll pass.”

The glint in her blue eyes is smug, but there’s an encouraging tremble in her hand that makes me wonder how many times she practiced that line—or something similar—in her head before the opportunity to use it finally presented itself.

I chuckle. “I don’t know, maybe you’d be less of a cantankerous bitch if you spent more time on your back in general.”

“I don’t sleep with the enemy,” she sneers, her demeanor now filled with disdain.

I level the sour Syphon with a look of pure dominance, unwilling to let that remark or the contempt behind it slide. “Good,” I growl. “Neither do I.”

Power slips up my spine and spreads through the lines of my dragon mark. I stare at Amadi, my silent invitation for her to challenge me palpable in the air. Every muscle in her body is taut with effort as she fights what we both know is inevitable. She only lasts a few more seconds before her stare breaks from mine, and she tilts her head to the side to expose her neck in submission. She sure thinks a lot of herself for someone who folds like a lawn chair whenever she pushes things too far.

The strain and exhaustion on her face when she loses the challenge she started should be satisfying, but she’s only saying what I’m sure others feel. I knew they wouldn’t welcome an alliance with the Noctises easily, but I thought I’d earned more trust than this. I look over at Gable, Sofann, and Olinta. They’re not openly accosting me like Amadi is, but they’re not stepping in on my behalf either.

Enslee was right. There are cracks in what we used to think was a solid foundation with the others, and I’m pretty sure my presence now is only widening them. Sorrow and a cold wash of resignation harden in my gut. This harsh reality is not only heartbreaking, but with everything we’ve planned, it’s a serious fucking problem. All this time, we’ve at least had each other; what the fuck are we going to do if we don’t even have that?

As though my thoughts have summoned her, Enslee’s laugh interrupts the showdown with Amadi. Mayur’s booming groan drowns out my sister’s amusement, and then his massive form passes by to dump a stack of mattresses on the pile. Mayur dusts his hands off on his thick thighs and runs his fingers through his long black curls. He wicks sweat from his face with a large hand, and his honey-hued squint finds Enslee.