Page 42

Keahi

Flint has only been gone for a minute when the doorbell rings again.

Malia and I exchange a quick glance and for a moment, I get a glimpse of the worry rising in her eyes.

Forget that; her eyes seem almost terrorized as they flick to the closest window, possibly checking if she sees who’s there.

I get up and head to the door, wondering who on earth even knows where I live and would seek me out.

It’s a short list of people, after all.

But maybe that’s what Malia is worried about; that it isn’t someone looking for me but someone here for her. I doubt her parents would ring the bell, though. Right? The question is soon answered when I reveal the last person I would have expected to see again so soon. Kaz.

"Hello Keahi.” He studies my expression and frowns a little.

“You look surprised to see me.

I’m sorry, perhaps I should have called ahead this time. Flint told me about your situation this morning and I wanted to check in. I hope that’s okay. May I come in?" I silently step aside, allowing my former trainer to enter my home. I close the door and turn my attention to Malia, whose eyes have turned colder than ice at the sight of our new guest. Even more dangerously, they contain impossibly more loathing as they sometimes do toward me.

"I didn’t want to believe it, but you really are here.

How is this possible? After all this time? I figured you were one of them, but it seems I was wrong.

Please, tell me everything." I wince at his words and blatant ignorance of the hostility radiating from Malia as he rambles. She stays silent, and foreboding simmers in my gut. Not the right time. I get the very distinct feeling that seeing Kaz, who I’ve told her is somewhat of the reason why I couldn’t try and save her, right after putting up with Flint’s rudeness no less is, is putting us in very dangerous territory. Not just that, but he knew all along who she was, just like he was aware that she was still alive when she was taken to the Dark Fraction’s camp.

No, I can’t blame her for being angry at him.

She trusted him, all of us kids did at the academy, and he failed her in more aspect than one.

But he doesn’t seem to be thinking about that.

As the man takes her in, he looks younger than I’ve seen him in years.

Like the guilt that’s been haunting not only me but him too is now being lifted off his shoulders as he sees Malia in one piece. I bite my lip, refraining from yelling at him to stop losing his mind and pay attention to the actual scene unfolding. Can’t he see Malia doesn’t want him here?

"I heard the rumors about having an outsider’s help, but when Flint told me, I had to see you for myself.

How did this happen? Was this your plan all along? Is this why you only just came back?" He takes a step toward Malia, and she gracefully slips off the chair and gets to her feet, looking ready to fight.

"Take one step closer and it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do," she warns.

I know she means business just as I know Kaz doesn’t register her threat, so I take a step closer, intending to put myself between the two before this escalates.

“Guys,” I try to reason and hopefully draw their attention off the other.

Neither pays me much mind, though.

“I’d forgotten what you looked like over the years.

I tried to picture you nearly every night, sending out prayers.

When you were spotted alongside them, I figured you’d switched to their side, but here you are, safe and home. You came back.”

Malia’s lips curl in disgust, seeming to disagree.

Rather than voicing a reply, she gathers water in her hand and solidifies it into ice.

My jaw drops, my steps faltering. I’ve never seen that before. Neither has Kaz, apparently, because his expression changes, slowly losing the oblivious glint.

"What? Malia, you’ve been initiated?" he murmurs, eyes widening in horror.

I’m not sure what that means, but it becomes achingly clear that it isn’t a good thing when Kaz keeps stuttering.

“That’s not possible. You were too old when they got you back. We saved you from it.”

“Get my name out of your mouth and leave,” she grits.

"Not yet.

I need to talk to you." Alarm bells go off in my head.

Not now. Not today.

"I have nothing to say to you," she seethes, her tightly reigned control visibly slipping as the icicle in her grip starts shaking with anger.

Ignoring her, Kaz takes another step toward her, hands out in a placating gesture, but it doesn’t have that effect.

Malia pulls her arm back, readying to throw the icicle. To my horror, she releases it without another warning.

Kaz seems paralyzed as the weapon flies through the air and toward his head like an obsidian spear.

I step in front of him out of instinct, arms spread wide apart to be as big of a shield for the giant man as possible as my flames try to melt the oncoming weapon.

The icicle passes through the heat undeterred, and I feel it pierce my arm the next second.

I curse and try to reach for it still stuck in my arm, but the ice burns my hand and I have to pull away with a hiss.

Shit, it’s too cold.

What sort of power is this? Kaz stays locked in place, but Malia mutters something under her breath, her eyes losing some of their murderous glint. She rushes toward me.

"You idiot!" she utters, pulling my punctured arm into her lap.

She rips the ice out of me without fussing, causing tiny stars to dance around my vision.

I grit my teeth and release a hiss. "This one’s on you," she mutters as I sway a little, trying to keep my balance while the pain sears through me.

All the while muttering small curses at me, she gets to work on mending my bleeding and frozen flesh.

She’s single-mindedly focused on the injury, and it’s somewhat heady to watch her work.

Crystal blue eyes severe, full lips pulled into a subtle pout, her hands working with a certain surety.

She’s truly mesmerizing when she is too busy to scowl at me.

"Can you still feel it?" I ask distractedly.

She furrows her brows but doesn’t meet my eyes.

"When I look at you," I clarify. Without acknowledging my question, she continues to heal the wound she caused.

At first, I think she isn’t going to answer, but she nods finally.

I’m surprised she’d tell me when she’s been fighting me on every question I’ve asked about her so far.

Maybe the admission has everything to do with her being distracted. If that’s so, I might have to let her hurt me more often to make her talk openly.

Behind me, Kaz shifts, and both Malia and I turn to look at him.

"I’m so sorry.

Keahi, are you okay?" I nod.

It’s weird seeing my trainer this lost and confused.

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment?" he then asks me.

Malia finishes healing my arm before getting up and walking into my room without another word.

I follow Kaz out of my apartment.

"You shouldn’t have done that," he starts.

"You weren’t very well protecting yourself, were you? What was I supposed to do, let you die?." He doesn’t say anything to that, but guilt flashes over his features.

It makes the anger inside me churn, so I go on, “Honestly, what was that in there? How could you possibly think that you can just waltz in here and demand answers.

Don’t you think you owe her at least an apology?”

“An apology?”

“Yes, Kaz, a fucking apology.

For lying to her, for letting her be taken, for keeping me from her and wiping my memories of the truth? Ring any bells?”

He rubs the stubble on his chin, expelling an aggravated breath.

"Maybe you’re right.

We might’ve gotten there too if she hadn’t attacked me. Really, Keahi, I think it’d be best if Malia didn’t stay with you. Not with that temper." His voice is a little more contained now, making him sound more like the man I grew up with. Still, his words fall on deaf ears.

"You’re telling me to abandon her again? After all this talk about praying for her safety and being happy she’s back." I shake my head.

"She’s here to help."

"I know how hard this must be for you, but that woman inside is not the Malia you used to know," he tries to reason.

Meanwhile, I find it hard to keep my temper in check.

Malia only just came back, and I would have expected him to be glad after everything that happened. He was glad, but only when he thought she’d be unchanged.

Like that’s a fair thing to expect from her after everything she’s been through.

Been through because he and Adira chose to give up on her instead of looking for a way to get her back.

He looks at me with sympathetic eyes all the while anger burns up inside of me. What does he know?

"She stays." I don’t leave room for any further arguments, and Kaz seems to realize that he’s not going to change my mind.

He nods slowly and tries to move on to another topic.

"Flint will call in a meeting tonight and we’ll discuss our plan.

We’ll try to keep Malia’s help in a small circle for now, but you two will have to meet with us at some point.

We can’t expect everyone to trust a stranger." Especially one that lived with the Dark Fraction. He doesn’t add those words, but they hang in the air between us.

He places a hand on my shoulder like he used to do.

"Be careful, Keahi.

If her people find out you’re helping her, they will come for you as well." They are not her people. I keep my mouth shut and watch Kaz leave. I know the risk I’m taking by letting her stay here. Especially since I leave close to the woods and that’s where we see the Shadow Handlers disappear into every time they end a mission.

Maybe I should ask Malia about the whereabouts of the camp.

But what difference would it make? I would know where to find her if she was ever taken again.

Then again, the only way she’d be taken from my place was if I was already killed in the process, so maybe it doesn’t matter either way.

My thoughts trail off when I go back inside to find Malia in the living room.

She is sitting on my couch, which, to my great surprise, is now clean of any blood stains.

"How did you-?"

"Perks of being a water handler," she cuts me off.

"I guess it would have been rude to leave such a mess behind." It takes a moment for her words to register as I stare at the clean fabric.

When they do, I frown.

"Leave it behind?"

She gets to her feet.

"I won’t be staying with you."

"Why the sudden change of heart? Where would you even go?" I ask, my stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of watching her leave.

Of not knowing where she is or if she’s safe.

"I’ll find something," she assures, but her voice doesn’t carry any confidence, betraying her act.

"It’s more practical for you to stay here," I argue.

I can’t just let her walk away when she clearly doesn’t want to go.

Maybe she heard what Kaz said to me? Or she figured while we went outside. It’s not a far-fetched conclusion that he told me to throw me out, and Flint’s hostility only seconded it.

Malia shakes her head.

"Too many people know my location already.

If word gets out, they-" her voice trails off and her eyes harden.

"Chances of you being found anywhere other than here are just as high, if not higher.

At least here I could help you fight them off.

Arcane still needs you," I add that last part when Malia’s expression shutters, not wanting her to think I’m showing concern. Every time I do, she makes an effort to pull further away, clearly uncomfortable with the display.

Now, she laughs at me.

"That’s adorable, Keahi, but if they find me here, you couldn’t make any difference.

They would kill you before you’d have time to draw your fire."

"Need I remind you that I have fought and arrested dozens of Shadow Handlers over the years.

There was only one I couldn’t win against, and she’s standing in my living room as we speak.”

“Yeah, and who do you think taught me everything I know? It was easy for me to take you down, and I’m no match for my parents.” I don’t point out that she had the element of surprise and that it was her identity keeping me from fighting her properly.

My training might be no match for hers, but I can hold my own when I’m not too busy thinking about her.

“Fine, then teach me how to fight like they do," I propose instead.

I should have thought of this sooner.

It’s the perfect idea. I’ve perfected every method Arcane has taught me and then some, but Malia is right. The Dark Fraction has developed other, more efficient methods over the centuries.

If I could add them to my skill set, or if we could teach them to the guard, we’d no longer just outnumber them, but we’d take away their one strong suit.

Plus, it gives me another excuse to spend time with Malia.

One she might not immediately dismiss. "Unless you are scared I’ll be better than you," I tease her. She huffs, then studies me.

"Okay," she agrees after a long pause, although she looks all but happy.

It takes a ridiculous amount of effort to hide my surprise, and I just end up nodding.

I guess she wanted to go elsewhere even less than I thought. All of the sudden, she comes flying toward me. I step out of her way in a movement so quick I surprise myself.

"Not bad," Malia hums, a small smirk tugging on her lips.

A moment later, something falls to the ground behind me, and I turn around to see a broken mug in a puddle of coffee on the floor.

The next thing I know, I’m on the ground, getting rolled onto my back while Malia sits on top of me, straddling my torso with her strong legs.

"Lesson one, never turn your back on the enemy and don’t get distracted." Her face is serious, but I can’t help but smile.

"You’ve been waiting to pin me to the ground like this, haven’t you?" I jest.

Malia pulls something out of the waistband of her – technically my – pants and reveals a dagger.

One of mine as well. I don’t see it for long since she soon presses it tightly against my throat.

"This is no joke," she insists.

"If people from the Dark Fraction were here, you’d already be dead."

"Careful, Princess.

You are going to sound like you care about me."

Malia doesn’t indulge in my banter.

Her eyes are as icy as ever and the only indication that she heard me at all is the increasing pressure of the blade against my skin.

"How do you get out of this position?" Like I want to know. I can’t help but enjoy this little exercise. As if she could read my mind, she pulls the dagger away and rolls her eyes with a huff.

"You are pathetic, Keahi.

Stay.

Focused. Or I’m leaving." She goes to say more but I don’t let her. She isn’t expecting me to act, and I use that, quickly turning us around to be on top of her. I grab the dagger from her hand and surprise flashes across her eyes as I hold it to her throat, all in the blink of an eye.

"Who got distracted now?" I smile smugly.

The surprise quickly fades from her eyes, replaced by a novelty as she looks up at me.

The ice melts to give way to something else, something molten and long forgotten. Desire. Her eyes flicker between my own before glancing down at my lips, only to come up again with a silent challenge behind them. My heart starts racing but I don’t loosen the grip on the dagger. Instead, I lean forward.

"Are you enjoying this?" I whisper teasingly into her ear.

I feel her shudder beneath me and pull back to look at her.

Blushing cheeks, unsure eyes and all. Our faces are inches apart and I feel her breath on my skin.

She wets her lips with her tongue and my head finally shuts off, letting my body take over.

I close my eyes and lean in to connect our lips, only to feel my hand twisting painfully.

My eyes snap open and I pull away to see Malia smirking up at me. My dagger is now back in her hand, the tip pointing directly at my heart.

"You use your opponent’s weakness, that’s how."

"Ah, not bad." I play it cool and get off of her, my heart still skipping beats.

I offer her a hand but, of course, she ignores it and swiftly gets up herself.

"Will the Shadow Handlers bother to pin me to the ground and wait until I find their weakness? How about you teach me some of your new tricks to manipulate my element," I propose.

"You do know that you are not a water handler, right? I can hardly teach you my tricks."

"There must be something.

The methods should be similar, right? Just show me what they taught you." At Arcane, we were all trained together regardless of our elements and it worked.

While the attacks naturally varied, the basic methods were the same.

Perhaps that’s different in the Dark Fraction because humorless laugh escapes Malia’s lips before her expression hardens.

"Unless your lungs are 83% fire, your bones 31% and your brain and heart 73%, I can’t help you." Her face is completely shut off again, her composure stiff, and I wonder what triggered the change this time.

Without knowing anything concrete about her time at the camp, I don’t know what to look out for when I speak to her. It bothers me.

"What do you mean?" I ask slowly.

"You don’t want to know," she mutters, then shakes herself.

"What you want to do is find your element wherever it already exists and manipulate it.

It gives you more power than fire in its purest form ever could."

"I don’t usually see fire just existing somewhere."

Malia rolls her eyes at me as if I’m being stupid.

"There is more to your powers than just pure flames." I give her a questioning look.

"They really don’t teach you anything at Arcane," she huffs. "There is no way we can win this fight."

"Okay, Sunshine, how about we focus on making me an even more exceptional fighter instead of giving up hope already? What do I not know about my element?"

"What does fire consist of?" she asks me.

"Primarily of carbon dioxide, oxygen, nitrogen, and water vapor?"

"Now, which six elements is most of our body made out of?" she demands, making me feel like I am back at the academy, taking an oral exam.

"Oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus?" It starts to dawn on me where she is going with this.

"I can manipulate the three common elements?" I know the answer, but Malia still nods.

"And more.

Calcium burns and phosphorus can turn into a toxic gas if heated, that’s supposed to be tricky though.

We can concentrate on the other elements. You can turn oxygen into carbon as you burn it. Our cells need oxygen to stay alive, so if you concentrate on the oxygen in a specific place, you could shut certain organs off. Raise the carbon dioxide level in someone’s blood just slightly and they will become dizzy, tired, and pass out.

“Too much nitrogen in the blood can be deadly as well.

What I need you to do is concentrate on the element in my body.

Really imagine whatever it is you want to multiply and where you want it to go. Or in the case of Oxygen, imagine it turning into carbon." I’m ashamed to admit that my head is reeling with all the new information. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to school and my brain is no longer used to absorbing many things at once.

I wonder if this is what all shadow handlers learn and more specifically why we don’t.

Malia makes it all sound simple enough as she tells me my powers are more than just fire.

That never once occurred to me at Arcane.

As I replay her words, I stumble over the most important thing she said and ask, "Wait, your body?"

"How else do you want to learn?" She shrugs, but I’m already shaking my head.

"There is no way I’ll try that on you.

I have no idea what I’m doing, I could overdo it and accidentally kill you!" My stomach turns queasy at the thought.

"You asked me to teach you so do as I say," she insist, rolling her eyes at my unwavering refusal.

“How do you even know about all of this? As you said, you’re no fire handler.

If you’re making all of this up as we go, there’s no way of telling if things could go south very quickly.”

“To be a good fighter is more than just knowing your own element.

You have to know your opponent’s power to brace yourself and block properly.

Now, stop trying to change the topic.”

“I’m not trying to change the topic, I’m wondering if we should bring out the big guns immediately.”

"We don’t have time to start nice and slow with attacks that aren’t efficient.

I’m here now and they’re not going to wait for you to be ready if they find me.

So, do you want me to leave? Because that is what I will do if you can’t defend yourself. I don’t want to have to look out for you in a possible confrontation, we all know how that tends to turn out for me."

Shit.

That’s true.

We’re only here in the first place because I wasn’t able to defend myself against a Shadow handler four years ago. I can’t let that happen again. I don’t want to be dead weight in a possible fight. I want to be able to help her, protect her against her parents and whatever horrors would expect her back at camp.

"What do I do?" I finally concede.

"We’ll start with the most efficient way.

Concentrate on rising the nitrogen levels in my blood.

Just slightly and slowly, okay?" Not really. Not really okay at all. The memory of cutting open her shirt to find her skin covered in an endless map of scars assaults me. She’s been through so much, possibly more than I can even imagine. I don’t want to hurt her again but I want her out of my reach even less.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to visualize what I want to manipulate.

This method is similar enough to what newcomers at the academy have to do when they first discover their powers.

I have to envision something I’ve never experienced before and change it into something new.

I take one more centering breath and wave my conflictions and wariness goodbye.

Better to be focused now.

I lock eyes with Malia, and as if she could see the change in my eyes, she nods as if pleased.

I focus on the element in her blood, imagining the minuscule particles multiply slowly.

My hand twists at my side, but I barely feel my body’s motions.

Malia’s expression doesn’t change, even as I feel my power infiltrate her insides, taking hold of that small component of my element.

I’m focused on my task to the point of barely noticing how unwell my subject looks until she breaks the silence, sounding out of breath, "That’s it.

You’re doing a good job.” Malia is as pale as a ghost and her breathing is growing uneven.

I hate to see her like this, especially since I’m causing it, but I repeat to myself that this is only training. She’s fine. She’d tell me if it was too much.

Her swaying intensifies and she finally leans against the wall.

For a quick second, that takes me right back to the time she was shot four years ago, and I immediately stop what I’m doing.

I start to walk toward her, but she raises a hand to stop me.

"You need to lower it back down," she says, startling me.

I haven’t thought about that.

I try to imagine my actions being undone. Despite my best efforts, Malia doesn’t look any better.

"Is it working?" I ask desperately.

She’s looking grey, and pressure builds in my chest.

She softly shakes her head. Then, she collapses to the ground right in front of me.

I’m too slow to reach her and am forced to watch as her head slams on the hard floor with a thud.

I sit on the ground beside her, trying hard not to panic rather than undo what I’ve done to her.

I take deep breaths and close my eyes again to imagine her nitrogen levels sinking. I do so until I see them back in their original amount in my mind’s eye.

It should have worked, but how can I be certain if Malia needs time to wake up, even if it did? I pick her up and carry her to my bed before grabbing her a glass of water and setting it on the bedside table.

Seeing her unconscious on a bed gives me a major déjà vu, only this time, I can’t bring myself to wait in the corner.

I sit down next to her, leaving a respectable distance between us even though I have the undeniable urge to hold her hand or stroke her arm softly.

Just do something.

But she’d most likely tear my arm right out of its socket if I did touch her like that, so I think better of it