Dusk Avenger (Flirting with Monsters #3) - Eva Chase Page 0,8
my fingers, as if the skin there was blistered.
I wasn’t just melting down metals—I was barbequing myself.
That had never happened when I’d used my powers in the first several days. Why was the fire lashing back at me now? A scorching churn remained inside my gut even though I wasn’t trying to summon it now, fierce enough that my stomach lurched with the thought that it might not be just my skin getting scalded.
Maybe this was just how this impossible power of mine worked—the more I wielded it, the more it leached from me in turn. Why not, when mortals were never supposed to work magic in the first place? At least the burns on my fingers had healed with shadowkind-esque swiftness. I hadn’t done any permanent damage to myself.
Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t.
When I looked up at the strip mall, the heat inside me bubbled up eagerly. The sense came over me that I could have burned that whole stretch of buildings down with just a little push of my will…
I closed my eyes. Fuck this. I was all for kicking butt and pummeling the assholes who treated shadowkind as lab rats and worse, but a gal needed to have some kind of limits. I didn’t understand what was going on inside me, and the more my powers grew, the more dangerous that ignorance became. Playing with fire was only fun if you were truly in charge of the matches.
We had other options beyond bringing a full maelstrom down on the shoe museum, right? There had to be room for a little subtlety in between “stand back and do nothing” and “burn everything and everyone to ashes.”
As I walked over to the shadowkind men, I braced myself. I could predict how at least one of the three would react to the suggestion I was going to make.
Thorn had been saying something, but he fell silent as I reached them, looking to me as if he realized I had something to say.
Omen considered me with his icy blue eyes. “Finished your flambé practice?”
“For now.” The jolt that rushed through me at those words, both giddy and rattled by the impression of all the things it could be in my capacity to incinerate at this moment, only bolstered my resolve. “I think it might be best if we come up with a plan that doesn’t count on me using my powers.”
The hellhound shifter grimaced before I could get any further. “Don’t tell me you’re doubting your abilities all over again. You burned down a whole mansion a few days ago. I saw you lighting up trash over there just now. The fire’s in you—you know how to use it. What’s the problem?”
The heat inside me flared with a prickle of frustration. I resisted the urge to hug myself as if the press of my arms would force the inner flames to simmer down. “The problem is it feels… different from before. Bigger. Fiercer. I know how to bring it out, yeah, but I’m not sure how well I can keep it in check once it’s out there.”
Omen shrugged. “So you might char a few other establishments around the museum. The mortals never seem to care how many shadowkind they mow down in their crusades.”
“You might care if I charred you,” I retorted.
“I think I’m safe from your incredible talents. I know you think very highly of yourself, but you really don’t need to protect me from you.”
Would he be so sure about that if he could feel the building inferno of my power the way I could?
“I think I do,” I said stubbornly. “Especially since you can’t be bothered to listen to me. I don’t think it’s safe for any of us—including me—if I keep throwing my powers around when none of us has any clue how I even have supernatural skills in the first place.”
Omen squared his shoulders. “Look, Disaster,” he said, his voice flat but cutting. “I know the fact that there’s something not entirely human in you unnerves you. The fact that the rest of you is human unnerves me. I’ve gotten over it, so you’re going to find a way to come to terms with it too. Preferably soon. Stay focused and committed, as little practice as I’m sure you’ve had with that kind of discipline, and you’ll control yourself just fine.”
“Maybe if you were focused on something other than giving me a hard time, you’d be able to think of a plan that’s better