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I didn’t tell them about the feeling of an elastic band snapping back at me when those little boys made it outside with Dorian. When they were completely safe. The lines connecting them to me broke and flew back inside me, making me so cold, so filled with blades of ice, I thought I was dying. It felt like an actual, real-life weapon stabbing through me, and I still couldn’t quite believe I hadn’t been cut at all.
It had gotten so cold and painful that I had passed out for a little while. Even after I woke, I still felt as though I had swallowed a massive chunk of ice that refused to melt. But if I hadn’t felt any of that, hadn’t gone through the pain at all, those boys might have died.
“I’m glad this happened to me,” I said. “I’m glad those boys’ families didn’t have to hear bad news.”
Mam met my gaze, her face a conflict of emotions.
“I know it’s hard,” I told her. “I get it, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know how I could have lived with the guilt if those little boys had died when I could have helped them. Mam, I couldn’t handle that.”
Her face fell. “I know, but how am I supposed to handle this?”
We held hands, and I knew she was on my side, no matter how hard it was for her to deal with.
Once Dr Rivers was confident that my condition wasn’t getting worse, we made the move to pack land. Several news vans were parked outside, so we had to move quickly while a couple of pack members distracted the reporters.
Inside the warmth of Dorian’s house, the adults rushed to bundle me up with heat. It didn’t make a lot of difference until Dorian curled up on the large sofa next to me. I wrapped my arms around him, hungry for the heat that radiated from him.
Ryan came in while I was still getting comfortable, unable to hide his horrified reaction when he saw me. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Tell me about the reporters,” Byron said.
“They’re working on a story about the fires,” Ryan said. “They all want to speak to Dorian. They’re calling him a teen hero, and they want to run with that as the lead.”
“He did save two children,” Amelia said. “It’s not so hard to believe that he’s a hero.”
Ryan shook his head. “We can’t afford this kind of attention right now. It won’t amount to any good.”
Perdita, who had willingly opened up her home for us, sighed. “I’m going to make a pot of tea then. Anybody want some?”
The cold was still painful, but Dorian’s presence certainly lessened it. Though we couldn’t talk, I was glad I wasn’t alone. The adults were still discussing things in the kitchen, but I didn’t care anymore. I was too tired.
A small boy sidled into the room, his dirty-blond hair plastered to his forehead from the rain. His wide-eyed gaze made me uncomfortable. “Are you a ghost?” he asked in a breathless tone of voice.
I shivered. “No. I’m just pale.”
He screwed up his face in confusion. “Then why are they calling you the dead girl?”
Dorian let out a low growl.
Perdita rushed into the room. “Robbie, I told you not to disturb them,” she scolded. She hurriedly escorted the little boy away.
Dorian rested his head on my lap with a heavy sigh. I dug my fingers into his fur, feeling strange. Were they really calling me a dead girl?
Perdita returned, looking embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. He knew he wasn’t supposed to come in here.”
“He said they’re calling me the dead girl.” I swallowed hard. “Am I dying? Is that what everyone’s talking about out there?”
Dorian whimpered.
“No,” Perdita said firmly. “Robbie heard some snippets on his way in and put that together himself.” She knelt by me to pet Dorian. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Margo, but I think you shouldn’t try to find death anymore, at least not until we figure out how to stop what’s happening to you.”
Dorian looked up at me. I supposed he agreed with her, and it wasn’t like I thought they were wrong either.
“What am I supposed to do? I wasn’t trying this time. It just happened. Out of the blue.”
Dorian leapt off the sofa then made an odd sound.
Perdita pointed at him. “Don’t you dare shift in here!”
