The Glorious Flame (#2)

Chapter 10

Inferno 

     She remained quiet, observing the interactions between Aine and Jameson. He regarded her with true love, one found in the stars, in the boundless sky of beauty Inferno never allowed herself to dream of, not actively anyway. This was something authentic and priceless. A bond which only existed between two sides of a whole. 

     Aine's eyes were crinkled with depression, though it was certain she found comfort in her husband. The deep blue sheets surrounding her had to have been unbelievably soft. Her bright orange strands fanned out on the pillow underneath. "What now, James?" 

     Inferno's eyes drifted around the room. Shades of grey, black and white. A row of cots. Smooth walls and smooth floors, which meant an easy cleaning. Bright, hospital lights. Glass cabinets filled with shelves of medical supplies. "I want to speak with you." She inwardly flinched at her own harsh-sounding demand. 

     Both of their gazes zipped in her direction. There again was that shock and regret, maybe even fear. 

     Inferno leaned against the doorframe, aware of Rouhem who was less than an inch behind in vicinity. This was a silent support that would not go unnoticed. "Before you vomit a bunch of questions that will only serve as headache-givers, let me spare you the effort, since I am so merciful... I am Inferno, and if you don't recognize your own offspring, I might as well leave right now. I am alive, so get over it. How I survived this long is my fucking business too, while we're on the topic. The only information you need is that I have questions which you will answer." 

     "Anything," Aine breathed, which came unexpectedly. Her cheeks were blotchy while her eyes were no better. Jameson's expression was made of steel, though he did not disagree either. 

     Her mouth opened and produced nothing. They gazed at her in questioning. 

     "My friend is sick," she said without further thought, "and she needs your help." 

     "Who is this friend? What does she have?" Jameson fired off. 

     "Her name doesn't matter. We don't know what she has, only that she is... dying. Nothing has helped her. We have travelled across the world and found nothing, absolutely nothing!" Inferno felt the familiar desperation leaking into her lungs, disrupting the drum of her heart. This was not one of her most favored topics. 

     "What can we do?" So eager to help. Good or bad for her?

     Inferno shrugged. "You're The Pack, if you don't know anyone or anything that can help... Well then I guess my friend is shit out of luck." Her schooled features hid the greatest lie which she refused to admit to them in that moment. 

     The couple looked at each other. There was a silent communication. "Of course, we will help as much as we can. First, I need to make sure I have all my contacts that I believe can be of assistance. Would you mind writing up a list of symptoms as well the circumstances surrounding this illness?" 

     Inferno nodded. "I can."

     Jameson came to a stand. Inferno did not want to be concerned when the exhaustion on his features became apparent. "By tomorrow morning?" 

     Inferno's brow arched in shock. Huh? "Morning? I can have it by tonight." The thought of prolonging this visit rattled her chains.

     "Inferno-" there was guilt on his features. 

     "Jameson is trying to say politely that he is bone-tired," Rouhem cut in, "after all the excitement. Maybe too much. Tomorrow morning is fine. We can wait, yes?" 

     She whipped around, looking up at his infuriatingly gorgeous face. "I am not staying one more damn day in a gross hotel-" she was damn close to stomping her foot. 

     "Don't then, there is plenty of room for you two," Jameson intervened. Her narrowed gaze clashed with his orange eyes, the ones which she inherited. 

     "No." Being around for the night was not in the job description. 

     "I would be able to reach you easier if anything came up." Damn, he had her! 

     Inferno shook her head. She would not easily budge. "Sorry, Jameson, but I would sleep better with strangers."

     He chuckled. It was a sad, resigned noise. "Clearly that is what we are. You are not the daughter I last saw. I know that now."

     A chill of bitterness began to pound behind her eyes. "Disappointed, huh?"

     "No, not ever. If it accommodates you, I can set you two up in the vacant wing. You wouldn't be near any of us." 

     Inferno hesitated and looked to Rouhem. He nodded his head. "This would be the best course of action," he whispered. He was right, but that didn't mean she liked it. 

     "Fuck," she snapped to herself. "Fine, we'll stay, but I need your contacts response soon. We are short on time." If she were to guess, things were going from bad to worse pretty soon for her. 

     Jameson briefly bowed his head. "Of course, let me show you."