Scorched Ice (Fire and Ice #3)(78)
Releasing him, Melissa stared at him for a minute. He gazed back at her like he didn’t know who she was before finally blinking again. Color crept into Melissa’s cheeks before she turned on her heel and hurried back to the RV. Her body language said she was fighting against running as fast as she could all the way back to the vehicle.
Chris remained where he was, gawking after Melissa as she vanished into the RV. “What was that about?” he muttered.
“You can’t be that obtuse,” Julian said, and Chris’s dazed eyes swung toward him. “She literally just kissed you.”
Chris’s mouth closed. It dropped again before he closed it once more. Then he thrust back his shoulders and grinned at Julian. “Yeah, she did.”
Quinn struggled not to laugh when he turned and walked to the RV with what could only be called a swagger.
“Just so you know!” Chris called as he climbed the steps of the RV. “I’m not giving up meat!”
Unable to stop herself any longer, Quinn burst into laughter. “I guess she smacked him over the head with it.”
“That she did, and he still couldn’t figure it out.” Julian’s chest rumbled against her as he tried to hold back his laughter, but he eventually lost the battle too. “I think it’s best if we get to Canada and out of the RV as soon as possible.” Julian swept her into his arms again and carried her toward the RV.
“It’s cold in Canada,” she reminded him.
“Good thing I have you to keep me warm then,” he said and kissed her nose.
“Yes, you do,” she whispered and rested her head against his chest.
***
The RV swayed beneath Quinn’s feet as they drove toward the Canadian border. Her knuckles gripping the sink were white as she tried to calm herself. Lifting her head, her eyes fell on her startling reflection in the mirror once more. She didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her—a woman with smooth skin almost entirely all over. Her palms were the only two places where her skin was not smooth and bare.
It wasn’t so much the no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes look bothering her. She didn’t like it, but they would all grow back. What bothered her was this alien image was a stark reminder of what it had been like to be trapped within those flames.
When she’d first emerged from the fire, there had been too much else for her to focus on. Julian and surviving were her priorities. She’d had no time to ponder what had happened to her, the trauma of it, the agony of the fire, and the cold hand of death that kept trying to pull her into its endless depths.
She’d been right about things going badly, but the outcome had been good, for the most part. They’d lost vampires today. She hadn’t known them, but there could be others out there grieving those losses right now. She’d also lost herself within those flames. If she’d been any other vampire, she would be dead. She had died, or at least it had felt like she’d died a thousand deaths within that fire. It was a feeling she’d never forget.
She lowered her gaze from the mirror. It would be months before her hair grew back, months before she could look at herself and not remember—
“Quinn?” Julian knocked on the door closing off the bathroom from the rest of the vehicle. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she murmured and turned the water on to splash her face with it.
Turning, she tried not to look in the mirror again, but her eyes were drawn toward it once more. She almost drove her fist into the glass to destroy the image and the reminder it represented, but the glass was only showing her the truth, and she couldn’t smash every mirror she came across until her hair grew back. Even after her hair returned, the memories would continue to haunt her.
Pulling the door open, she stepped into the small hall. Julian stood beside the door, his back to the others. He waved toward the open door of the bedroom, and she entered it, grateful to have some time alone.
She slumped onto the bed, her shoulders drawing forward as she lifted her hand to rub it over her scalp.
“It will grow back,” Julian said, pulling her hand away to kiss the back of it.
“I know it will,” she whispered. She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s not the lack of hair; it’s the reminder of why it’s not there.”
“We’ll get you a wig.”
“That won’t take away the memories.” She rubbed the smooth skin of her chin. “My scars, they’re gone too. The fire burned them away.”
He stiffened as his eyes ran over her. “It did,” he said through his teeth. “If you plan on trying to return those scars to your body, I can’t let you hurt yourself like that again.”
“No, I have no intention of putting them back on me again,” she whispered. “These are enough.”
She turned her hands over to reveal the two remaining scars on her palms. The matching lines that had been on the back side of her hands were gone. She’d had her hands clenched while she was within the fire. It had been the only part of her body she’d been able to protect from the ravenous flames.
“They’re a reminder of my past, just for me now.”
He took hold of her hands, smoothing out her fingers so he could trace the straight lines there. “For us,” he murmured. “A clear symbol of your strength.”
“I don’t feel so strong right now. The fire…”