Page 118 of Stealing Embers
I can’t say that I mind. His grip is warm and dry and comforting. I’m sure he only took my hand to make sure I don’t fall behind again, but for a few minutes, I pretend he cares enough to want to offer me a small measure of comfort.
It’s a silly thought, but if I’m going to die tonight, I wanted to go out with the memory of a boy holding my hand simply because he wants to. I’ve never had that before.
Touch is something I’ve always been denied. I didn’t get butterfly kisses when I scraped my knee, or cuddles after a hard day at school. Unbeknownst to me, my Nephilim side was a natural deterrent to the foster families I lived with.
I haven’t truly understood how much I crave skin-to-skin contact until this very moment. Something as innocent as a person holding my hand is threatening to unravel me.
I’m suddenly unnerved and unsteady in the most wonderful way possible.
When the tunnel forks, I bumble along behind Steel. The ground starts a steep decline and I’m forced to place my free hand on the craggy rock wall to keep my balance. The rocky ground below us degrades as well, slowing our decent. The air begins to feel thick, and I taste the hint of dirt on my tongue.
I decide then that I really don’t like mines.
It’s not long before sound tickles my eardrums. Steel was right: there is someone down here.
At first it’s a barely perceptible murmur, but in time, voices float from somewhere ahead of us. But the words I detect are uttered in a guttural tongue I don’t recognize.
Steel slows his steps, and I follow suit.
Within a few minutes, I catch the cool glow of bluish light.
After a dozen more steps, beams of blue rays light another fifty feet of tunnel before the path cuts to the right.
Steel halts before the turn, and I take the opportunity to catalog everything in the narrow space, Steel included.
He stands stone-still, a hundred percent of his attention dedicated to whatever lies around that corner.
The pressure of his hand around mine becomes painful. I bite the inside of my cheek and count to offset the discomfort. The lonely part of me doesn’t want to sever our connection.
I get to the count of eighty-six before Steel releases my hand.
Curling and stretching my fingers several times, I try to work out the feeling of his hand on my own, as well as get the blood flowing again.
It was nice for a moment, but I don’t want to remember what I’m missing.
“Stay here,” Steel whispers over his shoulder.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
I mirror his steps when he inches forward. When he realizes what I’m doing, he shakes his head, but doesn’t try to stop me.
There is no way we’re splitting up now.
As Steel is about to inch his face around the corner, one of the voices speaks up.
“Ishic favit nador!”
Whatever that means.
“Who are you calling ugly? Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror lately?” That sweet voice belongs to Aurora.
The gasp that Steel sucks in is barely audible, but being so close, I feel as well as hear it. The intake of breath is followed by a low growl only one level above feral.
“Shut it, freak.”
“Who are you calling a freak?” This time it’s Blaze who shoots back at his captor. “You and your buddy here are the most unnatural creatures in this mine.”
A snarl raises the hairs on the back of my neck. It’s quickly followed by the smack of flesh hitting flesh.