Chapter Forty-Four
Max
Cain honors the end of the deal… as does Ember. She gives him three safehouses of Dagon’s, all off-the-books, all ones Dagon never knew she discovered. She ranks them by priority, then points out that the number one option is far likeliest to be where he’ll find Azalea.
The only problem is, that location will be extremely difficult to get to, considering the government occasionally uses the place to dump people they need to disappear. It’s not a government site, per se, but it is a dumping ground for individuals who are wiped off every grid and never seen or heard from again.
Cain leaves immediately to make preparations.
I stare at Ember from my place across the table from her, worried that she’s about to retreat inward again. But she doesn’t. She’s pensive, withdrawn, thoughtful, but not empty. I can work with anything aside from her emptiness.
“I never meant to let Dagon get his hands on you,” I say, breaking the silence. “I swear it, Flame. If you hadn’t—”
“I don’t care what you did and didn’t intend.” Her tone is harsh, but at least she’s talking to me.
“Ember, if you hadn’t fuckinggone tohim—”
“You made your plans. I made mine.” Her fingers absently graze the spot below her collarbone.
The spot where she actually sewed a razor blade into her skin. The sheer tenacity of this woman will never cease to amaze me. She did what she had to in order to achieve her desired outcome. Just as she did with Cain.
“You could’ve forced him to let you go,” I say carefully. “He would’ve relented eventually. Why didn’t you?”
She stands up. “I was promised my own room. I’d like to be taken there, now.”
“Right. About that. You didn’t give any specifics—you only saidyour own room. Not your own apartment. Not somewhere I wasn’t allowed. So.” I miss a beat. “There are two guestrooms for you to choose from. Of course, I’ll be in them alongside you—”
She drops back into her chair, jaw locking. “You always were a tricky motherfucker.”
If I were a Doberman, this is the part where my ears would perk up. Instead, my entire body shifts to face her.
She’s speaking with familiarity that wasn’t there before. Not after she remembered the necklace, or the kiss.
She’s remembered something else. I know it in my bones.
“When else have I been a tricky motherfucker?”
She shakes her head and seals her lips, unwilling to say anything else.
That’s not going to fucking work for me. If she remembers more, I deserve to know. Ihaveto know.
“When else, Ember?” I make an effort to soften my tone. “Baby,please.”
It’s thepleasethat seems to get her. “Always,” she says after a few moments. “When you threatened the older siblings of my classmates to keep my peers in line. When you stayed up three nights in a rowto help me study for the SATs and ACTs. The countless all-nighters we pulled on a call, even when you were only down the road, to make sure you’d gotten through your assigned reading or polished your essay.” She looks at the floor. “You werealwaysa tricky motherfucker, Maximus.”
My throat and eyes burn at the same time. My soul and heart feel like they soar, crash, then soar again, as if the center of my being can’t decide whether it wants to choose elation or agony.
Ember remembers. Sheremembers… and yet, she’s still distant. She’s not here, in my arms, where I’d kill for her to be. Where I’d burn worlds, bend morals, and destroy countless lives to have her be.
“Baby.” My voice comes out broken. “When? When did you remember?”
She pauses to think about it for several moments. “Gradually,” she finally says. “After waking up from… Dagon. I don’t think I remembereverythingyet, but human memory is naturally imperfect. I remember enough.”
Anger takes over the mixture of elation/agony. “You’ve remembered fordaysand you haven’t said anything?”
“I said the only thing that mattered: you should’ve let me die.”
“Fuck that,” I hiss. “Don’t be a fucking coward, Flame. This world is hard. Living in it is hard. But you’ve survived and overcome too much to turn backnow, after we’ve won.”
