The awful screams of the creature continued on before a blessed, profound hush descended. Cassie remained unmoving, limp beneath Devon. The sting in her hands was intense, but it was nothing compared to the distress she felt over what had just happened. She'd thought that she could only absorb and hold one power at a time.
Apparently she'd been wrong. Adon's ability for fire was still accessible somehow. She didn't know what had triggered it. Whether it had been her frustration over her inability to help, or her concern for her friends, but right now it didn't matter. Right now all she could think of was Matthew's words.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Lifting her head, she gazed up into Devon's much loved emerald eyes. What she saw there scared her almost as much as the understanding rocking through her. Devon had just realized the same thing that she had.
CHAPTER 9
Cassie stood within the shadows of the small home, well out of the way of the rays filtering through the curtained windows. She held two ice packs between her hands; she was actually able to watch as her skin healed itself. Even fingernails were beginning to reappear on her charred fingertips. Lifting her head, she stared around the cluttered living room.
It was easy to see why Melissa had been attracted to this place. A crystal ball sat in the middle of a card table, beside it was a tarot card layout. There was a bag of runes beside a large silver chalice still filled with water and tea leaves. Candles and books lined the shelves, along with statues of magical creatures, incense, and jars of herbs. Though they didn't know if the previous owner could actually predict the future or not, Melissa had been drawn here by the remnants of warmth and power.
"Cassie," she tilted her head to meet Chris's inquisitive gaze. "Thank you."
She turned away from Chris and wandered over to one of the shelves. She focused on an old book on astrology. She wondered if the book could tell her what the stars had in store for her. Devon appeared before her, his hands were gentle as he took away the now warm ice packs. "They're healing well."
Cassie nodded but her gaze lingered upon his charred shirt. He'd discarded his winter coat; it was ruined now that there was a giant hole in it. Her fingers flitted over the remnants of the burns healing upon his rigid abdomen. She had done that to him, even if she hadn't meant to, it had been her hands that had caused such damage.
He grasped hold of her hands and pulled them away from him. "I'm fine," he assured her. She peered up at him from under lowered lashes. "Really."
"What was that?" she asked.
He stroked her face as he bent his head to kiss her. His full lips brushed hers as his fingers stilled upon her cheek. She lost herself to him, and the wonderful feeling of warmth and love that he gave to her. He reluctantly pulled away, his forehead resting against hers as he stared down at her. "I don't know."
Her hands clenched on the edges of his frayed shirt. "Are we staying here now?" she asked.
"No." They both turned toward Melissa. She stood by one of the shelves; a jar labeled dragon's blood was in her hands. "No, this woman is dead. I'm not staying in a dead woman's house, amongst her things." Melissa placed the jar back on the shelf, her fingers trailed lightly over the bottles beside it. "We should go to the hotel."
"You didn't like the idea of staying at the hotel."
Melissa thoughtfully chewed on her bottom lip as she picked up a red candle in a silver holder. "I would rather stay there than in someone's home, amongst their things, surrounded by their hopes and dreams. It's even worse than being at that hotel, and we have to find somewhere to stay, to shower, to regroup and feel at least a little normal again."
"How do you know she's dead?" Cassie asked.
Melissa's dark eyes met hers as she placed the candlestick on the shelf. "Because you and Devon are inside of her home."
It took her a second to understand what Melissa was saying. They hadn't been invited in. Even if the woman wasn't home, they couldn't enter her home, not if she were still alive. A chill slid down her spine as she realized something else, she wasn't welcome in people's homes anymore. "Oh," she breathed. "Can we go now?"
"Not until the sun sets."
Her eyes drifted toward the curtained windows, then the blankets lying on the floor. She hadn't imagined the feeling of smoke coming from her. The inside of the blanket was slightly charred from the heat that had been coming off of her body. If Devon hadn't thrown himself on top of her, she would be a pile of ashes right now.
Though she didn't want to stay in this house anymore, she didn't want to go back out there either. "The others?"
"Will be fine until we can get back to them," Devon assured her.
She didn't argue with him, her desire to escape this house was even less than her apprehension of going back outside. "She could still be alive though, she may have just abandoned this place."
Melissa's gaze drifted behind Cassie and she nodded. Cassie's confusion mounted as she stared at the picture on the wall. It showed a pretty woman, in her thirties, holding a young child of about four. A man stood beside her, smiling at the camera as he hefted his string of fish proudly. For a moment Cassie didn't understand what Melissa was talking about, but then her eyes narrowed on the woman.
Cassie had seen her before, somewhere. Her mind tripped along until suddenly the memory clicked into place. Of course she'd seen the woman before; she'd broken her neck outside. The Halflings hadn't followed them here, this had been the woman's house and she had simply been trying to come home. A strangled sound escaped her as she spun away from the picture. She couldn't stare at the face of that smiling innocent little girl when the guilt over helping to kill her mother was nearly choking her.
She shook Devon's hands away when he sought to comfort her. She didn't deserve any comfort, not right now. "You didn't kill her Cass," Chris said.
"I didn't help with it either," she mumbled.
"You didn't turn her into what she was."
Cassie didn't respond, she couldn't. She knew that he was right, but she couldn't shake the remorse clawing at her insides. She turned on her heel and strode back into the kitchen. She didn't go for the backdoor though, she may prefer to be out of here, but she wasn't suicidal. Instead, she turned to the left and made her way down the basement stairs and into the cool depths of the cellar.
She felt at home amongst the shadows as they enfolded her body. Her eyes quickly adjusted to pick up the details of the boxes and furniture stored within. She dodged obstacles as she made her way through the clutter. She didn't know where she was going or what she was doing. She simply had to move, to be somewhere other than the house with all of its reminders of the happy inhabitants that had once lived there.