The Fire God

Chapter Nine

It was Tuesday. I sat opposite the little nephilim at the diner. I preferred strawberry milkshakes. The half-breed bounced between vanilla and chocolate.

She was stirring her shake with her straw, jabbing it into the tall shake glass. She had learned not to touch me. "Mricul, qunz alda zul."

My skin rankled for more than one reason.

"I know you don't like to hear it—"

"Little nephilim, stop."

She bit her lip and her crystal blue eyes were foggy. Her skin was smooth, warm though her grip tightened on the milkshake glass.

"Mricul—"

"You're a sweet girl, little one. You're young."

Her lip fell open and her cheeks deepened to rose.

*****

Max charged into the kitchen, grabbed me. Though he couldn't glow near me, his cheeks were bloody red and he had a different fire from mine burning in his soul. He spit, "If you lay a hand on my sister—"

"Your sister is ugly," I said. "She has a squished face and she lacks color, vibrancy. I talk to her because you asked me to. Her head's empty, but she's kind. Amusing to a degree."

Max staggered back a step, put his hand out for the counter. With effort, he turned, stumbled out of the kitchen.

*****

Tiffany and I started taking little trips around the world. She was entranced by the oasis and my home. Though I was a walking fire hazard, I preferred wooden fixtures in my house, a wooden staircase, wooden table, wooden shelves. Tiffany rifled through books, ran all over the place. She tore fabric, instantly in one room then the next.

"If I get too close to Maxey Pad, I can't blip," she said.

"Your energies aren't compatible," I told her. I was leaning on the bannister in the foyer. Both were young. Neither could force supremacy over the other. Aditi's pet elk nuzzled my hand. He'd gotten quite a bit larger.

"Have you ever met one of my kind before?"

"Seen," I said, "yes. Not interacted with. He found me fascinating, and I him, but we kept our distance."

"He could tell what you were? Just by looking?"

"He was quite a bit older than you and, yes, he could see the sheen of the dragon on me."

Tiffany squinted, studied me.

I pulled her over, put a hand on my arm. "You feel that? Slightly slick?"

"It's like you put on too much baby oil or something."

"Or something," I said. "My perspiration is dragon oil. Literally, Asperia could capture me and mop the stuff off my skin to keep herself young."

"Oooo, gross!"

"Yes," I said, a smirk spreading over my lips.

Tiffany got distracted by the books again, ambled back to the case in the study, took down a text, paged through it.

"Why doesn't Asperia capture you and cage you up?" Tiffany called.

I threw a dragon talon very near Tiffany's cheek. She peered at me over her shoulder.

"You were trying to miss me, right?"

Syllie, the nephilim girl and everyone complained that Tiffany and I had disappeared too long.