Page 103 of The Fire Went Wild

My eyes flutter open and I stifle back a shout of surprise. Jaxon has somehow moved right beside me.

“How did I not hear you?” I whisper. “I waslistening.”

Even in the darkness, I see him smile like he’s proud. “You were hearing something else, little Hunter. Now keep quiet and follow me.”

So I don’t have time to dwell onthat, then. Jaxon takes my hand, his palm smooth and warm and dry, like he’s not even worried, and leads me off the driveway and into the thicket. I press close to him, trying to step where he steps, trying to avoid the puddles of muddy, stagnant water lurking in the dark.

Still, it’s easier than the last time I did this. Probably because I’m actually moving with him and not trying to escape. He slides serpentine through the dangling vines and thick overgrowth, almost like he’s part of the swamp, like it’s opening up a path for him.

“Almost there,” he breathes into my ear, and I hear the quiet hum of the electric fence. Lights flicker up ahead. Not just the porch lights, I realize when we step out of the swamp’s thick growth. Windows. Half the windows of the house are illuminated.

“They’re inside,” I gasp.

“Yeah, and there are at least three of them,” Jaxon whispers back. “But this is good. Makes it easier for me to get to my weapons.”

Weapons. The word sings out on the cool damp night.

“Who are they?”

“The magical wizard mobsters, as you call them.” Jaxon’s voice is grim. “Or at least, that’s my best guess.”

“They’re going just to keep sending people?” I whisper furiously.

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll just keep killing them.” Jaxon looks at me, his eyes gleaming a little. “It’s what our people do, cher.”

My head buzzes. My heart pounds.

I’m not just afraid, though.

I’m excited.

We slide along the fence, the shadows wrapping around us. I keep sneaking glances over at the house, trying to listen the way I did by the car. I do hear something, a sound like the ocean. Like breaths rushing and out, or heartbeats beating out of sync with each other.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

Jaxon glances over at me, a smile curving on his lips. “There’s my girl.”

We come to a second fence gate—not the primary one, at the driveway, but a smaller one, tucked away behind some overgrowth. Jaxon punches in the code and the electricity disappears. The fence is just a fence. He shoves the gate open, nods at me to go through.

We’re behind the house now, with the shed across the yard. The house rises up like a beacon.

“We need to get to the shed.” Jaxon’s mouth is on my ear, his fingers tangling up in mine. “Stay out of the light. Move fast.”

I nod, my breath tight. Jaxon tugs me forward, and we skitter back the way we came, only this time we’re on the right side of the fence. Inside this strange dark world Jaxon created.

The world I want to share with him.

Something moves across one of the house’s windows, and I yelp. Jaxon squeezes my hand, his message clear.Stay quiet.

We do make it to the shed, though. Jaxon moves quickly and efficiently like he’s done this a thousand times before, ashe unlatches the lock and eases the door open. Actually, he probably has done it a thousand times before.

“In,” he whispers, and I don’t protest, just duck inside.

It’s cold. That’s the first thing I notice. It’s cold, and it smells distressingly sterile. Jaxon shuts the door behind him, cutting off what little light we have. But that doesn’t stop him; he moves effortlessly around the space, the sound of metal against metal following behind him.

“You can see?” I whisper.

“You can, too,” he says. “You’ve got to stop clinging to your humanity, Charlotte. It’s keeping you from realizing your abilities.”