Page 106 of Stealing Embers

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Page 106 of Stealing Embers

“Maybe even since last night. But I can’t remember, so . . .” As Steel’s words taper off, his molars grind together. I wince at the noise. It’s almost as bad as nails on a chalkboard.

Admitting flaws, even ones out of his control, isn’t in Steel’s nature. I imagine confessing them to me, in particular, is even more painful. I try not to enjoy his discomfort too much.

“What was the last thing you remember from yesterday?”

Yesterday. Yuck. That was a bad day. Don’t want to visit those memories myself. They carry a bundle of hurt.

I tell myself the sting I feel inside is from the cold. It’s an easy lie to believe.

A gust of wind picks up some of the snow and whips it in a tornado around us. Winter’s chilly breath blows against my neck. After pulling the sleeves of my puffy jacket down to cover my hands, I cross my arms over my chest. It helps keep me warm.

“The last thing I remember was . . .” Steel scours his fingers against his forehead as if he can scrub the memories back into existence. “Getting into a fight with Grey over,” his gaze clicks over to me before dropping to the ground, “a disagreement. And shifting—”

Steel snaps his head up and zeroes in on something over my shoulder.

Twisting, I search for whatever has grabbed his attention. There isn’t anything there except snow, ice, and rock.

“What?”

“I shifted into an eagle. I was tracking something from above. Maybe I didn’t fall after all.” With that he takes off, using Nephilim speed to his advantage. The snow is up to our knees in some places, but Steel’s pace never slows.

My bag beats against my back as I struggle to keep up.

Coming to an abrupt stop, Steel becomes an immovable statue—a dark slash against the white backdrop.

A strangled sound squeezes its way out my throat a moment before I face-plant into Steel’s solid back. “I think I just broke my face on your shoulder blade. Do you have metal plates back here instead of muscles?”

My fingers rise to inspect my sore cheekbone. That may swell. Maybe I should put a handful of snow on it?

“Steel, do you realize I smashed right into . . .?” My words trail off when I finally look at Steel’s face. His alien-blue eyes are focused on something in the distance, his expression so stone-still, it reminds me of how I found him the night before.

A horrible shudder, borne from more than the icy air, dances through me.

Rather than speak, I search for whatever has so thoroughly captured his attention. I have to drop my line of sight before I notice anything.

Deep, deep,deepin the valley, a cabin is tucked between the folds of two mammoth mountains. A thin tendril of smoke snakes out of the small dwelling’s chimney.

Thank goodness for that or I wouldn’t have seen it. As it is, I can only make out some of the green tin roof and brown log siding—and that’s using every bit of my Neph sight.

My first thought is that it’s built to blend into nature, but that isn’t unusual for this part of the country. Lots of homes are built using natural elements and the colors of the Colorado countryside. Besides being located in a remote area, there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly noteworthy about the discovery of the cabin, but Steel is fixated on it.

“It’s probably just a local.”

My words are heavy with sympathy. I’m worried Steel is hanging all his hopes on that one small cabin. There are lots of people who choose to live in the backcountry, away from the general public.

It doesn’t make sense for Blaze and Aurora to be there. If they went out on their own, how could they have found the cabin? And if they’ve been taken—as we all fear—won’t the kidnappers be long gone by now?

“Perhaps we should—”

“That’s what I saw last night.” His jaw is set. His attention hasn’t shifted from the cabin, as if he’ll be able to see through the walls by sheer force of his will.

“I thought you didn’t remember anything?”

“I remember that cabin. Blaze and Aurora are there.”

Squinting, I shift my focus back and forth from the unassuming cabin to Steel’s profile.

I have doubts. Big ones. But what are the chances Steel is going to listen to me?




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