Page 56 of Before We Burn

“Are you good?” Benny sounds concerned, and I grind my teeth together.

I shake my head, unable to understand his thought process. “What? You want to talk now? You’re done thinking I’m a terrible person?” He looks confused, so I continue, “I was capturing those witches, killing some because I’m a dumb soldier. But you could’ve let me know—you could’ve trusted me—and you didn’t. Instead, you left me to rot—to figure this shit out on my own—slowly and painfully. If you told me when we were kids, Benny, I would’ve believed you. You were the only person I had that felt like family. I know—” I can’t say it. I can’t tell him what I’ve done, because I would have to relive it again.

“I’m sorry, okay. I know how bad I screwed up. I know I was shit, and I know there is nothing I can do to make it better. I just—I think I found someone I care about, and I need to protect that small peace of hope. If I lost my chance—” I think about it. Without Marz, I would’ve continued my job as a soldier, bagging and tagging the victims littering that school’s floors. I would’ve thought it was weird that they were running—I would’ve even quietly questioned it—but because I saw Marz there, ushering them to safety, she made me think. And without her, I would be stuck in the same cycle of lies I’ve always been in. “There’s nothing left for me. No purpose. No hope.”

In a slow, awkward movement, Benny pulls me in a hug. It’s unnatural. We’ve never hugged before. I want to push him off me, punch him or something, until he says, “I’m sorry, Ev. I was young and had always been taught that some secrets need to stay that way. Plus, what could you expect from a kid who just witnessed their entire family get dragged away?” He sighs, his large arm wrapping around the back of my neck, pulling me into his shoulder. It was uncomfortable, and I knew something stupid was going to come from his mouth next.

“We should hug more. Maybe you’ll finally stop being so fucking mad all the time.”

My instincts were right. I push him off and shake my head. “Maybe you should stick with a fist bump, or just dap me up. No more hugging.”

My mind travels back to the situation at hand. Marz is gone, I’m surrounded by vampires I would’ve wanted to kill a few weeks ago—and I still kind of do, just to prove a point. My temporary relief is suddenly gone, the ease I should feel from our awkward rekindling irrelevant.

He must’ve noticed my sudden shift. “She’s alright. The hellcat would’ve already slaughtered the red-headed vamp by now.”

I chuckle. He’s right. Marz is definitely a hellcat. The way she moves is so feline, and the nickname fits her perfectly. My thoughts are constantly clouded by visions of her—the feel of her. I have grown to admire everything Marz is, and I can’t help but revisit the idea that I’ve lost my chance with her. That last night and this morning were the last times I would get to hold her. If she comes back—when she comes back—I’m not going to play it safe anymore. I’m going to show her⁠—

“You know, Ev, Connie is really fucking hot,” Benny says, interrupting my train of thought. It’s better that way. One thought typically leads to another with me, and I’m already on edge and would rather redirect to someone who can handle it. Constantine.

“You’re either a dumbass or have a death wish. Constantine would eat you alive. Matter fact, don’t ever call her Connie again. You say that name three times and that psycho is going to pop up.”

Benny shrugs, his attention now across the room on Constantine, who is watching him with the same tenacity. “I don’t know why, but the more scared of her I am, the more I want her.”

We look at each other, laughter catching in his throat as bile turns in mine at the realization that Benny is infatuated with Constantine, the viper. I shake my head. Somehow we both became enthralled with two vampire women who could rip out our throats if we pissed them off enough.

23

SURPRISE, SURPRISE

CONSTANTINE

Ciro brought us to his safe house, or whatever version of a safe house he could provide. I can’t pull my attention from the memory of Marzana’s face when Nadiya told her. I had a feeling there was a connection between them. The last name was a major reason, but the similarities between them were astounding.

Marz is quiet but friendly—calculated, but also a mess. I’ve only been around Nadiya a handful of times, but I remember each second of it. The first time we met, she watched me from a corner with Gray. She never said hi, never attempted to get to know me. The second time was the last time I ever wanted to be around her, though. I knew something was different. Nadiya burned in the sun like the rest of us, but she had a higher tolerance for it. She would weave her hands in and out of the sun while the rest of us spoke, never paying attention to the conversation as she was always in her own world.

Knowing who Marz is confirms my suspicion. The sun tolerance was shared. I’ve witnessed Marz get shot by multiple UV bullets and survive. She’s protected other vampires by taking the impact of sunbombs, and I watched her heal without the need for additional blood. I always wondered how she was able to do that.

You can imagine my disbelief once I realized that if Marz was a Popov witch, it would mean she stems from one of the original witch families—the one which created us. My left foot bounces with irritation. Something isn’t adding up. Popov women are chosen and always have a soul tie to change them. Marz woke up alone in a field, with nothing but a piece of paper that had her name on it. It didn’t help that Marz was the last of her family line and we couldn’t find answers anywhere if we even tried.

If we were to meet the council and they realize that Marz was the last Popov witch turned from the treaty, it could be catastrophic. Another war would start. Vampires against vampires and whoever dared to get in between. All for what? The chance of power? The chance to possess the last Popov witch-turned-vampire?

Even with all that information, something still feels like it’s missing. Like there is a piece to the puzzle I haven’t thought to place yet. I look up at Everett sitting in front of me. He’s looking down at a piece of paper, his face twisted in frustration as he gnaws on the pen cap in his hands.

Everett is my least favorite person, and I didn’t think you could get any lower than everyone else. There is something about him I hate, but I can’t put my finger on it. If Marz was here, she would tell me he hasn’t done anything but prove he can change. But that’s the thing. I don’t believe he has changed.

Humans are master manipulators, no matter how you try to twist it. He could be going through all the motions as a way of distracting us, distracting her. The only thing is, I have no proof, no way of showing everyone what a liar Everett is.

Out of frustration, I push up from my seat, storming past Everett and searching the house for Benny. He is the only one who might know something about Everett.

I move through long hallways that have gone dark, the smell of dying flowers somewhere in the distance. This house feels wrong, like too many people died and never found rest.

I could find Benny anywhere. His scent is distinct, like musk and agarwood oil. A scent I feel should mean something, but doesn’t. Everything has been lost for me, but I refuse to waste time thinking about that.

I’ve lived too long to care about what I could’ve been a millennium ago. Marz can still get her memories back, and she can still find the parts of herself she’s lived without for so long.

The farther I travel into the house, the stronger Benny’s scent gets. I stop in front of a closed door, soft music playing in the background. The house is about to become quiet, since Gray, Ciro, and Malcolm all went into their respective rooms for some rest.

I stand at the door like a fool, anxiety—something I usually never experience—coiling in my gut like a loaded gun. I shouldn’t be knocking on his door—I shouldn’t be at his door at all—but when he’s around, I feel at ease. Like for the first time in a thousand years I don’t have to be alone.