Page 9

THE VAST DESERT stretched around them, bruised purples bleeding into dusky grays, the mountains dark, jagged shadows against a starless sky. Jonah’s white-knuckled grip on the truck’s wheel left Ruby fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

Today’s hunt was just the two of them, as Kavya had a meeting back at TCA headquarters.

Jonah had thrown a fit when Lucas assigned them the hunt.

It had been years since his last thermy, and Ruby’s joke about his rusty skills sent him storming out.

This morning at the TCA office, he grunted, motioned to the door, and stomped to the driver’s seat of their issued vehicle.

If spending hours in awkward silence wasn’t enough, Ruby also had to ignore the barrage of messages Kavya and Lucas were sending her.

Meme after meme, video after video, even a few Buzzfeed articles—all of her kicking Blakely’s fence down.

Virality was not something she sought and yet millions had watched the most recent episode of Justice with Jonah .

The name lost points for unoriginality, but apparently people found it interesting.

Especially women. She had glanced through the video’s comments section, but had to close it after reading one too many unholy comments about Jonah.

Ruby checked the case file in the dim light, ignoring Jonah’s glance.

A hot, thick wind slipped through the cracked window, carrying the faint smell of creosote and something sour that clung to the back of Ruby’s throat.

Even at midnight, the New Mexico air pressed down, laced with a dryness that left her mouth feeling raw.

It was different in places like this, sharp and dry in a way that set her teeth on edge.

A silence weighted with grudges hung between them. Her fifth attempt to strike up a conversation met a swift rebuttal—a hum of guitar chords as he turned up the volume and slurped at his energy drink.

“Have you looked through the file?” she tried, louder this time.

He turned up the music.

“So you’re just planning on going in blind? No clue who we’re looking for, what they’ve done, any potential hostages?”

A flick of his wrist sent the stereo to max. A flick of hers ensured silence as her fist shattered the radio’s glass.

His mouth gaped. She reached over, tapping his jaw and closing it for him. “Oops.”

“They’re going to make you pay for that,” he chided.

She gasped, her injured hand flying to her chest. “Oh no, however will I pay for a stereo system with my million dollar paycheck?”

If she could’ve taken a picture of the look on his face, she would’ve blown it up and hung it around the TCA on giant banners. She snorted and picked at the glass embedded in her knuckles as he bristled.

“You’re getting paid a million dollars?” He crumpled up his empty energy drink and tossed it in the plastic bag hanging between the two.

Grinning, she stuck up two fingers.

Jaw clenched, teeth clenched, booty cheeks probably clenched, he turned back to the road. “I only get $75,000.”

Her purse shifted at her feet and she grabbed it. “That’s a lot for an attention-seeking show boy.”

Jonah scraped his hand over his face and took a deep breath. A retort had been at the tip of his tongue, Ruby could practically taste it herself, but for some reason he held back, only looking away from the road to nod at the file in her lap.

He muttered, “Only so many ways you can say ‘possible thermophile’ before it gets old.”

With a scoff, she flipped the file shut, breaking the long, tense silence. “Our guy’s thirty-five. Hasn’t killed anyone yet. He’s either hesitant, or he’s waiting to go all out.”

Jonah’s face flickered with something close to interest. “Or he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to eat.”

“If he was turned by Edward, he knows. Edward practically pulls out a whiteboard to explain the process.”

“How lucky,” he muttered dryly, “like a little thermy preschool.”

“Funny,” she deadpanned.

From the depths of her purse she tugged out one of her herbal cigarettes and a lighter.

Jonah glanced over at her. “Don’t light that in here.”

She paused, finger on the spark wheel. “Why not?”

“Because I said not to,” he scolded, “I don’t want to be inhaling your disgusting smoke. You’d think for a million dollar salary you wouldn’t feel the need to get high before a mission.”

Get fucked. Ruby lit the cigarette, took in a deep drag, and blew it in his direction. Citrus and anise drifted through the truck’s cab. “Smell like weed to you?”

“Doesn’t mean I want to breathe it in.”

Her temper flared, warmth flooding beneath her skin. “A cracked window would solve that. You do understand that I need this to live, right?”

“Can you call what you do ‘living’?”

That hit a nerve. Living had been a slow, grinding chore since she became a thermy—since everything she was had been burned away.

Hell, maybe even before that. Sometimes people grow up too young and don’t have a chance to live through their youth.

They grow into adults, but not into themselves. They forget how to enjoy life.

She rolled down the window, tapping the cigarette out on the side of the vehicle.

"You forced me to work with you,” she snapped, tossing the snuffed out blunt into his water cup, her frustration reaching a boiling point.

"I didn’t ask for this," she added, "You want me to not abandon your ass with a rogue thermy, then you can show me, and the case, a little bit of respect. The guy’s a threat—a danger to everyone around him. I don’t know what your problem is, but get your head out of your ass or he’s going to rip off that pretty little head of yours.

Hate to break it to you, but regardless of how strong your inflated ego makes you think you are, any thermy is going to be 500 times stronger, faster, and probably smarter.

” She didn’t need this; she’d been surviving on her own for years, adapting to a life with silence as her only companion.

Jonah’s grip on the wheel tightened. “You weren’t the only one forced into this. Let’s just get it over with.”

Her pulse quickened, anger sparking into something more volatile. His presence used to mean so much to her, and yet every dismissive glance, every curt answer, twisted a knife deep in her ribs. She ground her teeth, turning to the window, feeling the hollowness of his words.

By the time they reached the seedy motel where the thermophile holed up, tension coiled between them like a spring ready to snap. The buzzing neon sign threw sharp shadows over the lot as they parked, its erratic hum unsettling.

“This is where he’s hiding?” Jonah dripped with disdain, like the building itself offended him.

“Guess so,” she replied, nodding toward the dim light shining through a cracked window on the second floor. She texted Lucas, confirming their arrival and requesting additional agents for transport. “Room 209.”

“After you.” Jonah gestured toward the door leading to the staircase.

Ruby rolled her eyes but opened the door.

They crept up the stairs, their steps muffled by the layer of dust clinging to every surface.

The stale, metallic smell of sweat hung in the air, mixing with the faint stench of ash—a scent that always lingered around thermophiles, like charred wood and sour embers.

Without breaking stride, Ruby kicked the door in. The sound splintered through the hallway like a gunshot.

Inside, the room was barely lit, shadows pooling in every corner, dense and oppressive.

A man stood in the center, a shirtless, bony figure with brown hollow eyes.

He had a tattoo running over his back—a pyre of wood engulfed in purple and orange flames.

His skin stretched taut over his skull, his cheekbones sharp, and the veins on his eyelids were a deep purple, a color reserved for thermies who had recently consumed.

The color pissed Ruby off as much as it made her feel guilty.

Either the reports were wrong, or he had recently consumed for the first time.

The man took a stumbling step back as they entered, his gaze darting toward the window, calculating.

“Don’t,” Ruby warned flatly, stepping inside.

The man sneered. “You think you can stop me? You have no idea what I am.”

Jonah’s hand drifted to his holster, but Ruby stepped in front of him, her pink collapsible baton snapping open with a vicious flick of her wrist.

“Try me,” Ruby laughed, flicking up her sunglasses, revealing the green markings on her eyelids. He tried to push her away but failed, his shove stronger than a human, but much weaker than a thermie’s should be.

The thermophile hesitated just long enough for Ruby to catch the movement in the corner of her eye.

She released him and spun toward the newcomer.

A girl—young, skeletal, eyes wide and hollow—emerged from the shadows behind him.

Her arms were crisscrossed with weeping burns, some fresh and blistering, others faded into white scars.

She swayed on her feet, equal parts desperate and defiant.

Jonah took in the faint quiver of her lip and gestured for her to come closer. “It’s okay, ma’am, we’re here to help you. Please come over to me and we’ll get you out of here safely.”

She took a shaky step forward, her body swaying slightly as she moved closer to the man, positioning herself between them. “Please… don’t hurt him,” she whispered in a horse rasp. “He needs me. Without me, he… he’ll die. It’s not his fault.”

Ruby’s heart sank, and a heaviness settled over her. The girl’s scars told a story of unimaginable devotion and suffering, and a painful, desperate kind of love. Ruby took a breath, swallowing down the knot of sympathy in her throat.

Jonah’s face darkened, a mix of horror and anger contorting his features. He took a step forward. “He needs you? He’s killing you. He’s leaving you with nothing while he takes everything.”

The girl flinched but held her ground, fear and desperation warring in her expression. “You don’t understand,” she quavered. “He’s all I have.”

A muscle in Jonah’s jaw tightened. “All you have?” he repeated bitterly, the words catching in his throat. “You’re nothing to him but a fuel source. This isn’t love. This isn’t devotion. It’s suicide.”

The thermophile sneered at Jonah, his face a twisted mask of defiance. “She does this willingly,” he spat. “She loves me. You’re the ones who don’t understand.”

“You’re a parasite,” Jonah seethed, “A leech, feeding off someone who’s too lost to know she deserves better.”

The man laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “And what’s she supposed to do?

Walk away? What else does she have?” He pulled the girl closer, his hand gripping her shoulder.

She flinched but didn’t pull away. “They don’t understand,” he murmured in a low, seductive whisper.

“They’ll take me away. They’ll leave you alone.

But if you stay with me, we can face anything together. ”

Jonah took a step forward, his hand on the gun in his holster.

The thermy shoved the girl in front of him like a human shield, his hand flying to her neck. “Stay back,” he barked, his grip tightening as she winced. “Come any closer and I’ll snap her pretty little neck.”

Ruby stopped cold. Jonah cursed under his breath behind her.

“Let her go,” Jonah drew the gun, aiming it at the pair. “Or I’ll shoot your ass.”

“Shoot him?” Ruby barked at Jonah. “Are you out of your mind? You’ll hit her.”

Jonah’s glare slid to her. “I’ve got a clean shot.”

“You think you do,” Ruby snapped, not taking her eyes off the thermophile. The girl trembled, her lip quivering as she glanced between them. Ruby’s stomach twisted at the sight. “You fire that thing, thermy moves, and she gets hit. You want that on your conscience?”

“Do you want to let him walk out of here with her?” Jonah barked back.

The thermophile grinned, sensing the fracture between them. “You should listen to your boyfriend,” he drawled, smug and slick. “Unless you’d rather take your chances.”

Ruby smiled then—a slow, dangerous curl of her lips. “Oh, honey,” she said softly, “I don’t take chances.”

And before anyone could stop her, she moved.

Bolting forward, she swung the baton in a brutal arc. The thermophile flinched, pulling the girl tighter as he stumbled back. Ruby didn’t hesitate—she dropped low, hooking her baton behind his knee and yanking hard.

The thermophile staggered, his grip loosening enough for Ruby to grab the girl and shove her toward Jonah. “Get her out of here!” she barked.

“Ruby—” Jonah cut off as the thermophile lunged, snarling. Ruby spun, the baton cracking against his jaw with a sickening thud. He stumbled back, swiping wildly, his strength stronger than a human’s but sloppy—desperate.

He bolted for the window.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ruby muttered.

She charged him, shoulder-first, slamming her full weight into his side. The world tilted. Glass crunched against her limbs as they smashed through the window, air ripping past her face as they plummeted. She twisted mid-fall, forcing him underneath her as they hit.

The impact slammed through her body like a freight train. The thermophile crumpled beneath her as the roof of a rusted car caved in with a shriek of twisted metal.

Ruby groaned, rolling onto her side, glass raining around her.

“Ruby!” Jonah yelled from above, footsteps pounding as the girl screamed. Flashlights swept over the lot as TCA agents poured in, shouting orders.

Ruby pushed herself up, her ribs screaming in protest as she planted her baton into the crumpled hood and hauled herself to her feet. The thermophile lay sprawled, dazed and twitching as two agents rushed forward with a syringe.

Jonah appeared a moment later, out of breath and furious, with the girl in tow. His glare snapped to Ruby as she dusted herself off, wincing.

“You’re insane,” he growled.

Ruby grinned, popping her baton shut with a flick of her wrist. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

Jonah shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he checked on the girl. Ruby let out a long, shaky breath, her heart still pounding in her chest as the TCA loaded the thermophile into the waiting vehicle.

Above them, the neon sign buzzed and flickered, throwing their shadows long and thin across the cracked pavement.

“You’re welcome,” Ruby muttered to no one in particular, rolling her shoulders with a wince as she limped toward the truck.