The Fire and the Sky (Book 3 of the Starborn Series)

Chapter Sixty-Two

Tight driveways splintered off from the main road here and there, disappearing into the dense woods. There weren't many of them though, and not one of them ended in lights as far as May could tell. It wasn't that late, which made her think there weren't many people out at their cottages right now. For a place that families escaped to for fun and relaxation, it all seemed rather ominous to her. Finally, when they reached the end of the road, one final drive curved off to the left. A hand-carved wooden sign nailed to a tree read The Rowans. Jeremy hesitated, then turned off the headlights. He navigated down the gravel drive by moonlight.

Much like Marina's stately home in York, the driveway to the cottage seemed impossibly long. May had only seen a few cottages in her life (she didn't really get the fuss — they looked like the houses back on Hoku to her), she was not prepared for the structure that rose through the trees before them. The place was huge, with a foundation and chimney built out of field stones, and walls made from smooth, interlocking logs. Soaring floor to ceiling windows reached from the center and peaked like the bow of a ship under great wooden beams. It was clear the place had seen better days. Plantlife grew unruly about the grounds and the windows were thick with grime. Even in the dark, May could tell the roof needed to be replaced. Still, it was rustic and charming, and May would have found it perfectly inviting had she not known who was inside.

Well, mostly inside. Before Jeremy even had a chance to turn off the engine, Connor barged through the front door with a shotgun in hand. May froze at the sight of him.

"Here we go," Jeremy said. When May reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt, he laid a hand on top of hers. "Don't make a scene, okay?"

May recoiled with an indignant scoff. She wanted to argue, but Jeremy was already out of the car.

"Hey, buddy," he called in a tone that was far too chummy and casual given the circumstances. He raised his hands as if he were under arrest. "We've gotta stop meeting like this."

Connor's face dropped. For a split second, his expression was one of befuddlement, but he quickly regained his composure. His handsome features twisted into a furious scowl. "Where have you been?"

The jovial smile slid from Jeremy's face. "I've been doing the right thing."

He kicked the door closed. Through the windshield, May could see Connor hesitate, his hand gripping the shotgun tighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Quietly, May got out of the vehicle. Jeremy had parked so the driver's side faced the front of the cottage, and for a moment it seemed as though Connor hadn't noticed her yet. The world around her slowed as a dizzying roar filled her ears. She rounded the front of the SUV in a few quick strides, taking him by surprise. She barely registered the shock on his face before she pulled her fist back and crushed her knuckles into his jaw.

It was like a bird colliding with a window for all the good it did. Though Connor jerked back, May knew the hit hurt her more than it did him. It didn't matter though — she just needed to send a message.

"Holy shit!" Jeremy cried.

"That's for double-crossing me!" May shouted. She lunged forward, ready to swing again, but Jeremy's arms encircled her waist and pulled her back. She didn't fight him, but she did try to land a kick to Connor's knee for good measure. "That's for leaving me tied to a fucking chair!"

Jeremy pivoted so he could keep himself between her and Connor when he put her down. "What did I just say about making a scene?"

Connor cradled his chin and blinked at them with his magical green eyes wide and stunned.

"I can't believe this," he said quietly. "It was bad enough that you left without telling anyone, but then you decided to bring her here? And after everything the Loyals told us? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking this isn't who we are, Connor," Jeremy replied, his dark eyes narrowed at him. "We owe them — we dragged them into this. You know that!"

Connor shook his head. His blonde hair fell into his eyes. "And you know it's not that simple."

Huffing a laugh, Jeremy took a step toward his friend. "Of course it is. Helping people like us, resisting the Loyals — it's what WIND does."

"No, it's what WIND did. And it's exactly what we can't do any more, I'm sorry."

May bristled. She was ready to launch herself at him again—she would scale Jeremy if she had to—but Jeremy gripped her shoulder with a firm hand; there was a tremble to it.

"If you can't do it for them, if you can't honor the promise you made—"Jeremy paused and exhaled a shaky breath"—then at least do it for Audrey. Because you know she would have."

Connor flinched as though he'd been struck again. May watched his posture sink. When he shifted his gaze to hers, she saw the heartbreak in his eyes. In that moment, he wasn't a traitor, but rather the compassionate man who had comforted her after a nightmare, and a victim of a lifetime of terror. For all her anger, May couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

With a sigh, Connor dragged his free hand down his face. He glanced back at the cottage, the windows ablaze with warm, welcoming light.

"You two better come inside," he said. "Before I change my mind."