Inferno by Cara Bristol

Chapter Thirteen

 

Inferno zoomed away, a hurtful fire burning in his gut. Satanic? That’s what she had thought of him—that he was evil like the Xenos who’d destroyed every living being on his planet? She said she didn’t believe it, but she’d thought it, and she’d said it! No wonder she’d hurled books at him and ordered him away from her. No wonder she wouldn’t give me the time of day.

Maybe she isn’t my genmate.

He dismissed the idea immediately. Certainty still resonated bone deep, but right now, he almost wished he could forget her and start over.

He sped past the Church of Argent. Voices raised in song drifted out of the building. The soothing, peaceful music beckoned him to go inside, and, for a split second, he was tempted, but Geneva worked there, and he wished for no reminders of her. How could she have believed that of me?

He upped power to the scooter and zipped down Main Street to the highway. He couldn’t go home. Psy would be there. One glimpse, and the Verital would know something was wrong. Inferno didn’t want to talk about what had happened.

Both hearts clenched with pain. Pressure built and churned, demanding release.

He flew down the highway, no destination in mind, but then found himself on the road to Lavender Bliss Farm. From there, he veered over the gravel lane winding toward the fields. In the gazebo, he could sit and breathe the delicate perfume of lavender, calm himself, and figure out his life. But first, he had to expend the pent-up emotion before he immolated. Stopping the scooter, he hopped off.

The conflagration coalesced in his belly and shot into his limbs. Thrusting his hands out, he pushed the energy out his fingertips in a stream of fire, engulfing a bush alongside the road. Snapping and crackling, the blaze leaped to the surrounding foliage. Flames roared and began to spread.

“Herian!” He dashed to the scooter for an extinguisher and put out the blaze.

Horrified, he studied the blackened, denuded shrubbery. He’d almost started a forest fire that could have torched his friend’s lavender farm, maybe her house!

Dejected and ashamed, he remounted the scooter and guided it to Kevanne and Chameleon’s dwelling. He trudged to the door and knocked.

Kevanne opened it, and her gaze flew to his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I set your bushes on fire,” he confessed.

“It’s burning now? Cam—call the fire department!”

“No, don’t—I put it out. It’s okay, really.”

“Well, then, come on in.” She ushered him inside. “I made lavender lemonade. Would you like some?”

He nodded. “Thank you.” He took a seat in the living room.

“You don’t look so good,” Chameleon said from his chair, his thick lizard-like tail curled around him.

“I’m all right,” he lied, almost envious of his friend. Blue and tailed in his natural form, Cam could change shape and appearance, personify other beings, including humans. The ability had enabled him to assimilate into Earth society much faster than the rest of them. If I could look more human, would she like me better? Probably, but what would he gain? A mate who couldn’t accept him as he was? He couldn’t live a pretense.

Kevanne carried in a tray of lavender-infused lemonade and passed him a glass. Sweet and cold, it helped to lower his temperature.

“Okay, spill it,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Things not going well with Geneva?” she guessed.

Cam shot him a sympathetic glance. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yes, he does! Why do you think he came here?” Kevanne insisted.

Inferno stalled, taking a sip of his lemonade then setting it on the side table. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he studied his feet. “When Geneva first laid eyes on me, she thought I was an evil Xeno.”

Cam jerked, and Kevanne dropped her jaw. “A Xeno? That’s what she said?” She shifted her gaze to Cam before focusing on Inferno again.

“Not in so many words, but that’s what she meant.”

Kevanne scowled and crossed her arms. “What words did she use?”

“She called me Satan.”

“Satan and Xeno are not the same thing!” she snapped at him.

“Satan is a destroyer, Geneva told me. Well, so are the Xenos,” he replied. Why was Kevanne getting angry?

She placed her hand on Cam’s shoulder and glowered. “Not all Xenos.”

He could have kicked himself. “No, not all Xenos. I’m sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean you,” he apologized. He’d forgotten Cam was a Xeno because they considered him an honorary ’Topian.

Cam had been a member of the Xeno Consortium, and, when the high council had voted to destroy ’Topia, he’d opposed it and secretly evacuated as many people as he could. He’d risked his life during the bombardment to launch the Castaway and get the six of them to Earth.

“It’s all right.” Cam squeezed Kevanne’s hand. “Inferno is not wrong. ’Topians have every reason to hate and fear the Xeno Consortium. They are creators and destroyers both, kind of like the Earth Hindu god Vishnu.”

“But you’re not like that!” she said. “You are not a destroyer.”

“No. And my brothers know that. They accept me for me—”

“That’s true!” Inferno nodded.

“Although I did have to prove myself. They were suspicious of me at the start.”

With shame, he recalled that, too. Cam had anticipated the reaction he’d get if he revealed himself to be a Xeno, so he’d personified one of the castaways. When the personification failed, and his true form had been revealed, they’d almost airlocked him. To save himself, Cam had allowed Psy to read his mind and verify his good intentions.

How can I blame Geneva for leaping to conclusions about me when we all did the same to Cam? She had come around on her own. While she’d initially misjudged him, she had realized her error. She’d tried to explain that to him, but he’d been too shocked and hurt to listen.

“I keep doing the wrong thing. I assumed once I found my genmate, everything would fall into place.”

Kevanne and Chameleon laughed.

“We had a rocky beginning,” Cam said.

“Thinking Cam was human, I’d hired him to be my handyman, and, when I saw his real form the first time, I screamed and threw him out of the house,” Kevanne said.

“Delia had assumed Wingman was her daughter’s imaginary angel friend until he showed up for Izzy’s birthday party. She kicked him out,” Cam related.

“Psy and Meadow almost broke up after Mentira planted false memories in Meadow’s mind. And you remember how Shadow almost left Mandy?” Kevanne asked.

“I guess bonding isn’t easy for anybody,” Inferno said.

“Tigre still hasn’t found a genmate, and neither has Mysk, and he’s been here for decades,” Cam added.

The facts still didn’t solve his problem, and he dragged his fingers over his scalp in frustration. “Everything I do is wrong. I bought her flowers. She had seemed to like them, but then I found out she didn’t. I put my feelings down on paper. She didn’t like that, either. I feel our bond getting stronger every day, but she doesn’t. She wants to go slow—whatever that means.”

“I don’t want to steer you wrong, but if I had to bet, I’d say she feels the bond, but she’s fighting it. She doesn’t trust herself. If she mistook you for Satan and still went out with you, that’s one hell of a bond, excuse the pun,” Kevanne said.

“So what do I do?” He hoped her advice would be better than Tigre and Mandy’s.

“Where did you leave it? What’s happening now?”

“We walked in the park. Then she told me she thought I was Satan. My feelings were hurt, so I got mad.” He twisted his mouth. “I left her at the park, came here, and set your bushes on fire.”

Kevanne nodded. “Normally, I would advise you to send her flowers—”

“No!”

“Since that won’t work, I say, give her space. Let her reflect on what she did and said. Basically, she owes you an apology.”

“She did apologize. I wouldn’t listen.”

“Give her a little more time.”

He needed to make amends. He should have stayed, allowed her to explain. He fingered his rose quartz. Besides bringing love into his life, the crystal was supposed to create harmony. He’d found his love, but harmony eluded him. “How much time?” he asked and pulled out his phone.

“Until you cave.” Her mouth twitched. “So, about ten minutes.” She shot him a stern look. “Give it until tomorrow.” She motioned. “Put down that phone. You need to up your game, buddy.”

“I’m supposed to deliver Wanda tomorrow.” He set his phone on the coffee table.

“Wanda?”

“Her car. Mysk is fixing it.”

“Perfect. Wait to see her until you deliver the car.”