Page 19 of Of Flame and Fate

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Page 19 of Of Flame and Fate

Emme walks toward me. The best way to describe her is that she resembles Carrie.TheCarrie. The one who had a bucket of pig’s blood dumped on her at prom and went supernatural windmill on her graduating class.

The only difference is Carrie was less bloody.

On either side of her stand members of Gemini’s pack in human form. I throw open the door and hurry toward her, stopping just before I reach her. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve had better evenings,” she admits, her voice quiet.

“What the hell happened?” I ask, circling her. Christ, it’s like she fell into a large vat of red and orange paint.

“I didn’t want you going after that vampire alone,” she says, casting a hesitant glance in the direction of the wolves eyeing her. “I tried to follow you, but was trapped within the crowd on the dance floor. By the time I made it outside, you were far down the street. I tried to chase after you, but someone swiped my purse and threw a pillow case over my head. I was shoved into a car and . . .” She makes a coughing sound, like she’s gagging. “I couldn’t see. I knew I was in trouble and did my best to picture pulling heads from shoulders with myforce.”

Emme’s telekinesis is no joke. Still, I blink back at her, stunned. “I guess it worked.”

“Not exactly,” the wolf to her right interjects. He clears his throat. “She ripped them in half. Down the spinal column,” he adds, painting a brighter and more gruesome picture. He makes a zigzag motion with his hands. “Only jagged. Not smooth.”

“Definitely not smooth,” the wolves around him concur, nodding.

To kill awere, you have to either decapitate him, or detonate his heart with cursed gold bullets. To kill a vamp, more specifically an old one; their head must be removed and the heart destroyed. Based on the sight before me, Emme missed the heart and probably the head too, leaving the vamps to spurt body fluids like a hydrant.

“There were chunks,” the first wolf says.

“Lots of chunks,” his buddies agree.

“Had to scoop through them just to get her out,” the guy to my left adds.

“Um,” I reply.

He points to Emme’s stomach. “You see that, that’s bile. I’m guessing two, maybe three livers’ worth.”

“You think?” His friend takes a sniff. “It smells more like small intestine to me.”

“Okay, we get it,” I say, holding out a hand and trying to stop them. I’m sure this is regular dinner talk to the midnight streakers, but seriously, I could have gone without the visual. And so could poor Emme.

Beneath all the red and orange my very petite sister is probably a nice shade of green. I’m ready to hurl, and I wasn’t even there!

I cover my mouth with my hand. “You ripped them apart,” I say. “Literally.”

She makes a face. “I sort of panicked,” she offers, apologetically. “I was pulling and stretching skin and bone.” She starts gagging. “But they were the wrong kind of skin and bone.”

I’m picturing lots of crawling organs trying to rejoin as Emme continued her ripping frenzy. It’s awful. It’s twisted.

And it’s what kept her alive.

“Screw them,” I tell her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I hug her against me, trying not to cringe when she feels wet and spongy.

“Eww” the wolf next to me says.

“Really?” I ask. “After the chunks,thisis what grosses your ass out?”

“Taran,” Emme says carefully. “You’re hurt.”

She may not have noticed the bruises, but she feels them with her healingtouch.

“I’m all right,” I tell her. In truth, I could be better. My throat is sore and scratchy, and it hurts to swallow, and when I move, the throbbing along my spine grows more pronounced. But I don’t want to upset Gemini further. He’s already angry enough.

Emme holds me closer. “Here, let me just help you.” Her head falls against my shoulder. “It will feel good to help, instead of harm.”

“Okay,” I say, her comment making me sad.




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