Ember by Kristen Callihan Page A

h e ight of f a shion to h a v e a littl e Juli e t b a l cony , b a ck in th e d a ys wh e n b ea utiful — or at l ea st b ea utifully dr e ss e d — l a di e s a nd g e ntl eme n wou l d invit e th e world to s ee th em a nd th e ir a ntics . Nea rly a c e ntury ago. N ow , prop e r soci e ty pr e f e rr e d to hid e b e hind h ea vy dr a p e s a nd conv e y th e p e rf e ct pictur e of f am ili a l h a r m ony . As M ir a nd a ’s ho me wa s no long e r a nywh e r e n ea r th e f a shion a bl e s e t , h e r b a lcony h a d not been torn do w n in th e n ame of i m prov eme nt . S h e, for on e, wa s gl a d of it .
    Billy r e clin e d a g a inst th e w a ll . H is postur e wa s stiff a nd unco m fort a bl e, but h e wa s h ea ling w e ll . We ll e nough to insist th a t h e n ee d e d a br ea th of air.
    “ I ’ m no t one t o gad abou t i n bed. Un l ess, ” he ’ d wagged h i s b r ows at he r , “it’ s f o r a b it of pump and s tr ump. ”
    T h a t n a us ea ting e xch a ng e aside, h e a ctu a lly ma d e good co m p a ny , as h e didn’t try to fill th e sil e nc e or look at h e r w ith pity .
    A w a r m br eeze brush e d ov e r th em wh e n h e fin a lly spok e. “ We shou l d be p a rtn e rs . ”
    M ir anda s tirr ed. “ Pa rt ne r s? ” Hav i ng c ri ed on and o ff f o r t wo days, he r t h r oa t was now ti gh t , and t he wo r ds came ou t i n a c r oak.
    He caugh t he r eye and l aughed. “ Smoo t h you r r u ffl es, it a i n ’t li ke t ha t w it h you. ” H i s f ace t w i s t ed w it h wha t M ir anda cou l d on l y ga t he r was ex tr eme concen tr a ti on. “ Fo r a ll my gammon, I don ’t ac t ua ll y wan t … I t’ s f unny , wha t w it h you l ook i ng li ke b r ass t acks an a ll , bu t I don ’t get a s tiff y when
     
    I ’ m nex t t o you. ”
    S h e snort e d th e n , but sob e r e d at his m ildly insult e d e xpr e ssion . “ T h a t’s a ll right . I don’t find you a ttr a ctiv e in th a t way e it he r . ”
    He nodded t hough tf u ll y. “ I t’ s li ke you ’r e my s i s t e r Ne ll or some t h i ng. ”
    “ Y ou h a v e a s i s t e r ?” W o u l d s h e w o rr y o v er h i m ? W o n der wh e r e h e ’d gon e ?
    “ Ha d . ” He toss e d a fl a k e of pl a st e r off th e side, a nd th e y w a tch e d it bounc e ov e r a rubbish bin . “Died six y ea rs b a ck . ”
    Gen tl y, she t ouched h i s e l bow. “ I ’ m so rr y. ”
    “ S ’ a ll ri gh t . ” They we r e s il en t f o r a momen t . “ Way I see it , you need a d i s tr ac ti on and b l un t . ” He sh r ugged, t hen w i nced, be f o r e eas i ng h i mse lf i n t o a mo r e com f o rt ab l e pos iti on. “ I need b l un t and a pa rt ne r who ’ s f ea rl ess li ke me. ” He s li d he r a s i de l ong g l ance. “Besides, you r lil’ sec r e t packs mo r e punch t han bo t h of Geo r ge t he Hamme r’ s a r ms pu t t oge t he r . And eve r y sens i b l e body f ea r s h i s h it . ”
    She s tiff ened. “ I won ’t do t ha t aga i n. Eve r . ”
    “ Y ou w i ll , ” h e s a i d w i t h u tt er c o n v i c t i o n . “ A c at c o r n e r ed w i l l u s e h er c l a w s . A n d w h y s h o u l d n ’ t s h e, e h ? Y o u ’ l l f i n d you r se lf t hank f u l f o r t ha t fir e aga i n one day, ma r k me. ”
    H er c o l d f i n ge r s c l e n c h ed. “ N o. Y ou a r e w r o n g . ” S h e wou l d no t become a mons t e r . She wou l d no t g i ve Ma rti n t he sa ti s f ac ti on.
    Billy ma d e a nois e of indiff e r e nc e. “ D on’t know why you’r e so f ea rful of a bloody us e fu l t a l e nt . ”
    “ I ’ m no t a fr a i d, ” she s a i d w it h mo r e conv i c ti on t han she f e lt . “ I t’ s s i mp l y a moo t po i n t as I won ’t be us i ng it . ”
    “ Y o u ’ r e g i v i n g u p f a nn i n g t h e n ?” H i s e x p r e ss i on w as sk e ptic a l to s a y th e l ea st , a nd h e r insid e s writh e d , th e urg e to a void his g aze ma king h e r