The Mark of Fallen Flame (Weapon of Fire and Ash) Page 5

  “Do you need help?” Emma offered as the girl stared back down at a wrinkled page in her hands. Relief flooded her face.

  “Yeah, I was looking for physical science?”

  “Down the hall to the right.” Emma pointed in the direction she had just come from.

  “Thanks.” The girl gave a grateful smile before shoving her things back into her tattered denim cross-body bag that was covered in pins. Emma’s eyes caught on a silver one that looked like a pentagram.

  “Sorry again for running you over,” Emma said.

  “No worries,” she mumbled before giving another small smile and turned to head back into the mass of students. Being several inches shorter than Emma, she was lost to the sea of passing students within a second.

  Emma walked the rest of the way to calculus, careful to not knock over any more unsuspecting freshman. Before she even stepped over the threshold, a punch of electricity jolted through her chest. Heat and ice mixed, numbing her hands and feet. Her tongue felt heavy and swollen.

  The boy with amber eyes and mussed hair looked up to where she stood, frozen and transfixed. It wasn’t the fact that he was in the classroom that made her stop. It was the fact that the only other seat available in the room was the spot next to him. He pulled out the chair for her with a tug of his lips.

  “Take your seat please, Miss,” an elderly, nasally voice said behind her. She jumped, recognizing Mr. Cummings as he strode past her. The numbness in her extremities was replaced with an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation that made her teeth grind together.

  She followed him in as the tardy bell rang, forcing herself to walk to the open seat. One foot in front of the other. Her eyes roamed the room—anywhere but at her tablemate as she sank into the cold plastic chair. His gaze was hot on her skin, daring her to look at him.

  Mr. Cummings was a squat, balding man with a thick, red, bristly mustache, that looked like it could be used to scrub pots and pans. His lips were barely visible beneath it, and he spoke with a gravelly monotone. Emma was too concerned with keeping her breathing even to register what he was saying. Currents of heat shot through her, while her skin prickled with cold. The desire to lean a few inches closer to the enigma beside her was almost unbearable.

  Blood was rushing in her ears, blocking out voices and sounds. There were too many eyes on her. Why was everyone looking at her? The boy beside her jabbed her in the arm with his elbow.

  The shock of their physical contact was stronger than any common static shock. It zapped Emma’s blood, heating it. White flashed across her vision, and she thought she heard someone gasp. Was it her?

  Strength.

  Power as dark and as vast as the ocean.

  Blood.

  Death.

  Color bled back into her surroundings. She shivered from a sudden wave of cold, fighting the urge to look beside her.

  “What?” she choked out, registering that everyone in the room now stared at her.

  “I’m taking attendance,” Mr. Cummings snapped, irritated. “I take it you’re here then, Miss Duvall, albeit not quite awake yet.”

  A few students snickered. Emma forced a nod. Beside her, the boy was deadly still. Not even his chest moved. The teacher called several other names, all of which were met with responses.

  “Rowek Zennett.” There was a pause.

  “Here,” the boy beside her replied at last. His voice was surprisingly deep, a rumbling sound that made something inside her stir. As if in…familiarity? As if she had heard it many times before but couldn’t remember. Her attention shifted to his face, which was void of emotion.

  Emma tried to take notes, doing her best to keep her eyes forward, but every so often, she glanced sidelong at the stranger. The boy called Rowek did not take notes. He didn’t seem interested in hearing anything the teacher had to say. Emma couldn’t help but frown at the oddity. Rowek reclined in his chair, his finger tracing the image on the closed textbook. It was another painfully slow class, but when the bell sounded Emma turned to fully face him.

  “Two of the same classes,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “What a coincidence.”

  He didn’t answer or even look at her for several beats. She got to her feet as a burst of sudden anger flared inside her, shocking her.

  Then he spoke. “Not in the slightest.”

  Her skin tingled at the way he said it. Like he knew a world full of secrets. Secrets that could be hers, if only she touched him again.

  Wait, what? Had she just thought that?

  There was an underlying hint of something else in his voice, though she couldn’t place it. She stared at him for a moment.

  “So, do you have American history next?” Part of her hoped he would say no, was begging the gods for him to say no. She had no idea how she would focus in any of the classes they shared as it was. But a small part of her, try as she might to dismiss it, wanted the opposite.

  “I guess you’ll find out in about five minutes.”

  He stood in one fluid, graceful movement, his textbook by his side, and sauntered out the door as if he had nowhere, in particular, he needed to be. Emma let out a shaky breath and followed. Once she was in the crowded corridor, however, Rowek was nowhere to be seen.

  Emma entered the history classroom and found Adrianna. She waved Emma over to the desk she had reserved with her bookbag, shooting pointed glares at anyone who came near.

  Before Emma was even seated, Adrianna began bragging about how Sean had carried her books for her after all. Emma listened while taking out her notebook and binder. Her heart gave a jolt, and she knew without looking up, who had just arrived.

  Rowek’s eyes flicked to where Emma sat, then they narrowed as anger flashed in them. Her heart jumped up in her throat as he walked toward the rows of desks. Why was he mad?

  Her lungs constricted as he passed, his arm swinging dangerously close to Emma. She fought against the urge to lunge for him, to take whatever was inside him for herself, before he dropped into the chair behind her. She drew in a ragged breath.

  Adrianna’s eyes were wide as she gaped openly at him. Emma cleared her throat to try to divert her friend’s gaze.

  “Who is that?” she whispered, loud enough for him to hear. Emma shook her head to say she’d tell her later.

  The class began with the energetic, mid-forties teacher who sported a well-groomed neck beard, skipping the standard first-day-protocol and diving straight into World War I. Emma appreciated his enthusiasm, having had him the previous year for world history. But the boy behind her kept her on edge…ever aware of the exact distance between them.

  A folded piece of paper fell over her shoulder, landing in her lap. She stilled, staring down at it as if it were a bomb. Her fingers slowly worked to open the paper, careful to not make too much noise. The words written inside made Emma’s stomach drop.

  Meet me for lunch by the side doors next to the gym.

  Emma stared down at the note. Was he insane? He looked at her like she was an insect, and now he wanted to have lunch with her?

  Emma wrote back: Can’t. Eating with a friend. Then she waited until the teacher had turned his back, scribbling a timeline animatedly, before she dropped the slip of paper over her shoulder.

  The note didn’t find its way back into her lap, and she began to be able to ignore the discomfort Rowek caused as she copied what the teacher had drawn on the board. He brushed his hands together, just as the bell sounded, white dust creating a cloud in the air.

  The teacher hadn’t even given his consent of dismissal before Rowek was out the door.

  Adrianna spun in her chair. “Who is that?” she demanded again. Her tone was colored with awe and something else Emma chose to ignore. They stood, gathering their things.

  “Rowek Zennett,” Emma replied, trying to sound disinterested.

  “
He is hot with a capital ‘h’!” She fanned herself with her hand for emphasis.

  Emma scoffed. “He’s such a typical bad boy. I’m not into that.” The lie made her face hot, and she had to look away to keep Adrianna from seeing it.

  “I’m way into it,” she heard Adrianna mutter.

  “He’s in every one of my classes so far,” Emma said to Adrianna, loud enough to be heard over the rustling papers and students shuffling through the rows. As they started for the door, Emma couldn’t help but feel impressed at how well Adrianna maneuvered with her crutches.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Emma led her friend close to the wall to avoid being trampled and whispered, “There’s something not quite right about him.”

  Adrianna gave her an odd look.

  “You remember that night in the alley?” Emma asked.

  Adrianna looked down, shifting uncomfortably. “You mean the night I broke my leg? Funnily enough, I do, yeah.”

  Emma forced herself not to flinch. “Well, those…things made me feel…cold and…i-it felt hard to breathe.” Emma chewed her bottom lip. “Did you feel anything like that?”

  Adrianna frowned. “No…just…bad, I guess.”

  Emma paused, considering her words. “And you didn’t feel anything around Rowek?”

  “You mean other than hot and bothered?” Adrianna asked with a sly grin.

  Emma punched her shoulder lightly. “I’m serious!”

  “So am I…What do you feel around him?” Adrianna was still grinning, oblivious to Emma’s irritation.

  She managed a smile. “You know, it’s probably nothing. I think I’m still a little jumpy from Saturday night.”

  Adrianna’s smile faded. “I get it. That was some freaky crap.”

  Both girls arrived at their last class before lunch just after the tardy bell, earning them both a reproachful look from the short, gray-haired teacher at the front of the room. They found seats together, and Emma didn’t bother hiding her smile at who was not present. It was a welcome relief to be able to concentrate and not feel like she was holding a live wire through the entire class. When the bell rang for lunch, Emma’s stomach growled, making Adrianna laugh.

  “Your stomach called. It said to tell you that you don’t eat enough. Men like curves, ya know.”

  Emma snorted. “I have curves, thanks. And I do eat. All the time.” Her stomach made another noise, as if in disagreement. Adrianna laughed.

  The smells of the cafeteria made Emma’s mouth water as they shuffled in. They were fortunate to have a café that served just about everything—no school lunch slop.

  Emma grabbed herself a tray and was just about to grab another for Adrianna when a rich male voice said from behind them,

  “May I be of service, milady?”

  Emma turned to find Sean holding an empty tray for Adrianna.

  Sean was definitely handsome, in a jock kind of way. His smile revealed brilliant white teeth. His hair styled with tidy black cornrows that crossed over his head. His basketball jersey hung loosely on his chest with his shorts worn low. Adrianna gave him a sultry smile before sending Emma a wink.

  Emma filled her tray with a salad, a brownie, and a bottle of water. As she fished out some cash from her pocket, she heard Adrianna ordering half of everything on the menu. The girl liked to eat, and she was blessed with a metabolism that would puzzle doctors.

  After the plump, surly-looking lady wearing a hairnet dumped Emma’s change into her hand, Emma gestured to an empty table for Adrianna to see. She nodded before grabbing a bowl of mashed red Jell-O and added it to the heaping tray. Emma chuckled at Sean’s wide eyes.

  Emma set her tray down onto the table as a now familiar sensation surged in her chest. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she shivered. She took a slow, deep breath, forcing her lungs to fill with air.

  A tray clattered onto the table next to her, making her jump.

  “Cold?” Rowek asked. His voice made her stomach flutter.

  “I’m fine.” Her tone was harsher than she expected, but he didn’t react. When she glanced over at him, his lips were tilted up in what she assumed was a permanent smirk. “Something funny?” she asked.

  “Lots of things are funny. Have you been on YouTube recently?”

  Emma stared, dumbfounded, while Sean placed Adrianna’s tray on her other side. Once Adrianna plopped onto her seat, Emma saw her leaning forward to get a better look at Rowek. Poor Sean.

  “You must be the new guy,” Adrianna said.

  Rowek’s amber gaze slid from Emma to briefly glance at Adrianna.

  “Yes, I am,” he said, smile widening.

  Emma glared down at her uncovered salad as she ripped the lid off. Beside her, Sean began chatting energetically to Adrianna about basketball. She saw Adrianna spear her fork into the massive plate of chili cheese fries, pretending to listen, though Emma knew it wasn’t Sean who held her attention.

  “Not allergic to real food, are you?” Rowek’s breath tickled her ear, making her drop her fork.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” She turned to face him, anger simmering inside her. She wasn’t sure why she was mad, but she didn’t care. Rowek shrugged as he sipped his can of soda.

  “I have something more important to ask you, actually,” he said. His smile evaporated.

  “And what’s that?”

  “Who are your parents?” Rowek asked, his voice low. From the silence to her right, she knew both Sean and Adrianna had stopped to listen.

  “Erm, what?” Emma said, confused.

  “Are they anyone I’d have heard of?” His tone was casual, but from the intensity of his gaze, Emma knew that there must be more to his simple question.

  “No,” Emma replied, stabbing at the browning lettuce with her fork. “I don’t know who my dad is, and my mom’s a surgeon.”

  “What’s her name?”

  Emma’s heart stuttered, a sense of dread unfurling itself in her gut. She shot to her feet, her tray in hand, and started for the drop-off.

  “Em!” Adrianna called after her, but Emma didn’t stop until Rowek was in front of her. He grabbed her tray as she came to an abrupt halt, keeping it from upturning onto the floor.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to freak you out,” Rowek said. “You just look familiar, I thought maybe I knew you. You’re new here too, right?”

  Emma eyed him suspiciously. “How could you possibly know that?”

  Rowek snorted a laugh. “You don’t strike me as a true loner, which leads me to believe you just haven’t had much time to make friends.” He shrugged. “That, and people talk.”

  “Where are you from?” Emma asked with carefully leashed anger.

  He looked surprised by her question. “All over. I’ve moved around a lot.”

  Her heart stuttered, and her shoulders slumped a little, the fire draining out of her. “Me too,” Emma admitted.

  His lips curved in a smile, though it lacked the arrogance he carried before. Emma felt herself smile back.

  “I’m sorry if I freaked you out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, almost shyly. “I get it. I’m not very good at making friends. You just have something about you…something different.” His eyes were honest, the honey-colored depths pulling her closer. The tray pressed hard into her ribs, and only when he looked away, did she realize how close they were.

  She took a step back, clearing her throat.

  “It’s okay,” Emma said. “My mother has this thing about running away every time life gets uncomfortable.” She winced at her harsh words.

  Rowek laughed, unfazed. “I have a free period next. We could go get some real lunch, and you can unload all that pent-up frustration on me if you want. I’m a great listener.”

  Emma contemplated his offer. She di
dn’t know anything about him, and while he was undeniably attractive, she wasn’t sure she should trust him. The way she felt when he was near and what happened when he touched her made her hesitant.

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m going to get a head start on my homework.”

  After stepping around him, she hurried from the cafeteria to grab her books in case he decided to follow.

  He didn’t.

  Emma found a spot beneath a willow tree to start on her calculus assignment and to text Adrianna, who had demanded to know why she had run off. She replied that she hadn’t been feeling well, which wasn’t entirely untrue.

  A few minutes after the bell sounded for the end of her first free period, Adrianna ambled out the doors on her crutches and spotted Emma. She pretended to be busy reading her history book as Adrianna came to stand in front of her. The day was warm, the sun shining brightly. The scent of the final summer blooms floated around her shaded space.

  “So, what’s up?” Adrianna asked, still standing.

  Emma glanced up. “Nothing, stomach ache.”

  “Yeah, because you threw your lunch away. Or rather, Rowek did. After you stormed out like he had just kicked your puppy.”

  “I did not,” Emma argued.

  Adrianna gave an exasperated sigh as she rested against the tree and slid down, her injured leg sticking out in front of her. Once she was on the ground, she dug through her backpack. With a satisfied noise, she tossed a pack of pop-tarts on Emma’s textbook. Emma stared at the shiny foil pack for a moment, her pride and hunger at war. When her hunger decidedly won, she sighed.

  “You have the best metabolism on the planet,” Emma complained as she tore into the package.

  Adrianna snorted. “You’re the one eating them, not me.”

  Emma moaned as she reverently bit into the dry, sugary pastry.

  Adrianna giggled. “I’ll bring those more often, then.”

  Emma was thankful that Adrianna didn’t ask any more about Rowek. They talked about their teachers and classes. Which boys got cute over the summer and who was sleeping with who. It was easy for Emma to feel normal again, if just for a few minutes. When free-period ended, they said their good-byes and Emma headed back up the stairs to the math department for her finance class.