Part 4

Quincey, otherwise known as Five, had a diminished presence, so it wasn’t difficult to believe that Ammie would run straight into possibly the only other person out on the streets of La Ville besides her, her friends, and poor, clueless Sr. Dagarlé.

Considering that he pretended to be a rock star and was built like a running back, Five’s talent for suddenly appearing out of nowhere and claiming that he was there the whole time was more than a little unnerving.

Damn his catlike reflexes.

“Why are you here?” He entered what Ammie liked to call the “male stance.” Leaned back like he was seconds from tipping over, Five crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her with half-opened eyes.

Ammie found her own eyes rolling. “Why do you think? Do you actually think I’m here to see you?” 

She laughed, the way she knew he hated. Three haughty little chuffs and a slight shake of her head, the perfect imitation of any adult looking down on someone younger than them.

“Well…” Five didn’t move, didn’t so much as flinch, “I can’t help but notice that heavy-a*s backpack over your shoulder. Sure as hell never seen it so full before.”

He leaned down to her face, moving close enough that Ammie could feel brushings of his chaotic green strands touching her cheeks. 

Seriously. Her mother wanted her to marry this he-man? 

“That leads me to believe you’re not here to see me.”

“Get the man a prize,” Ammie mumbled, looking away. Even in the darkness, her cat vision could detect the crystalline lightness that shone in his blue eyes. 

She willed herself not to move, not to back away. 

“Ammie,” he said, purring in the very definition of the cat that got the canary, “where are you going with so much stuff?”

“A study group,” Ammie mumbled, still staring off into the distance.

Soon Sr. Dagarlé would be coming by. 

That self-satisfaction tripled when he asked, “I’m sorry. Where?”

Damn it. He had her, and he knew it.

Ammie sighed, finally pushing the hulking man-beast away from her. “Fine. I’m leaving tonight.”

“And where are you going?” Five’s voice changed, darkened. Ammie watched his face fall to the one she normally saw from him, the one that showed nothing.

Showed nothing, but saw everything.

“Hamse--”

“Absolutely not,” Five looked furious. “Are you insane?”

Ammie refused to let her rising flush change her tone. “I’m going.”

Five’s fingers were fisted in his hair, wreaking further chaos on his ponytail. 

“You can’t be this stupid, Ammie. You can’t seriously be doing this to me right now,” he began pacing in a circle.

Ammie could no longer hold it in. 

“Doing this to you? What’s wrong with me? You mean, what’s wrong with you! What the hell is your problem?”

Five stopped pacing, hands falling down to his knees as he leaned down to her level. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Tristian died there. How could you possibly think of going to Hamsen?”

“Don’t,” Ammie’s body trembled with rage. “Don’t you ever say his name again. You lost that right. You’ve lost every right, far as I’m concerned.”

Five turned his back to her, so Ammie couldn’t see how the words hit him. She wanted to see it. Wanted to see the guilt. The sin lining.

So she kept going.

“You let him go there alone,” Ammie forced the words past the venom burning her throat. 

Silence fell between them, but still, Five did not turn. 

Ammie refused to take back her words. Refused to feel guilt. 

This was the first time she’d seen him since before her hero’s mark appeared, and she was damn well going to confront him when given the chance now.

“You can be mad at me,” Five’s voice was hollow when he turned back to her.

Ammie flinched.

“But you’re still not going to Hamsen,” His eyes were complete shadows in the darkness. Not a hint of their dazzling internal light could be seen. Face set firmly to nothing, he finished, “Over my dead body will I let you walk out of that gate tonight. Or any other night. You can hate me all you want…”

He stepped up to her calmly and grabbed her upper arm in a loose hold, “…but I am not going to lose you, too. Tristian left you to me. And I take that very seriously.”

Ammie’s eyes were burning now. Before the tears could spill, she tried to throw that swirling, inky void in her chest away, “Seriously, I’m never marrying a caveman like you. Tristian couldn’t leave me to you. I’m not a thing. Even if I have to leave La Ville and quit being a witch, I swear I’m never marrying you.”

“That’s fine,” Five didn’t hesitate, looking beyond her now while she used her free hand to wipe her traitorous eyes.

“You can’t stop me. I’m going to be the one to bring him home,” she said, words wobbling.

Five’s head snapped down like his head was on a string. His shadowed eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He’s not dead,” Ammie said, voice gaining strength.

“Not--” Five stepped back. “But the mark--”

“He’s still out there,” Ammie glared. “He has to be.

“Think about it. He’s the strongest hero ever, and he dies at an age that’s before any of the ancient heroes? That doesn’t make any sense. Also, the changing of the mark has only happened a few times in history but all in different cases. I don’t think there’s been enough research done about the hero marks…”

Hands clamped down on her shoulders, and Ammie jumped out of her train of thought and straight into icy blue eyes, once again filled with light. 

A fire’s light.

“Focus, Ammie. Just get to the point.”

Ammie tilted her chin up. “How do we know he’s even dead yet? The rules say that a new hero will be marked if the first is no longer able to fulfill the duties of a hero. That doesn’t say he has to be dead.

“Just that he can’t fulfill the work of a hero. Which means…”

“He can still be alive,” Five finished. His grip on Ammie’s shoulders was nearly painful. She couldn’t move at all even if she’d tried. 

I thought he just strummed a guitar all day long. What is with these muscles, Ammie thought jealously. 

“Excuse me, kids, but you know you’re not supposed to be out after curfew,” the kind, older voice had Ammie freezing.

Senior Dagarlé. 

S**t.

Five cleanly flipped Ammie around so that she was nestled under his arm. Behind them, his fluffy white tail met her sleek black one by accident, but she swatted it away, prompting his responding jab until their tails were caught in a tangle for dominance.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was just trying to get her inside,” Five smiled reassuringly at the man who was walking toward them across the lawn, his expression completely at odds with his rude tail.

Ammie casually screwed her elbow into his side, delighting when he twisted her far enough away that she couldn’t reach his side with her shorter arms.

Once he got close enough, Sr. Dagarlé’s eyes widened, grizzled ears and tail twitching in surprise, and Ammie remembered that she had been crying just a moment ago.

She looked like a grieving sister running to her fiancé for comfort. 

“Of course,” he nodded, giving Ammie a kind, but sad, smile. Ammie wondered what kind of loss the older man had lived through, to give her a smile that didn’t grate on her nerves.

She’d had enough of fake pity.

“Thank you, sir,” Five called behind him as he guided her to his thatched-roof cottage. 

It was the only thatched roof in the village. All the other houses had modernized to better construction materials some time ago, but Five’s family hadn’t.

Once inside the small entryway, Ammie took notice of the piles of laundry on the floor, the stack of garbage bags thrown haphazardly in one corner of the kitchen. 

“Wait here,” Five called as he walked down his hallway to his bedroom at the far end.

Ammie whisper-yelled after him, looking around to make sure his mother and siblings weren’t in sight, “Why?”

Five turned and walked backward. “Imagine if I hadn’t gone outside to pee in the middle of the night, and you took off without a chance in hell of getting past whatever danger’s in Hamsen?”

Ammie was disgusted. “What?”

“I’m coming with you,” he said. “So wait for me.”

Ammie tapped her foot impatiently for the five minutes it took Five to walk out of his room, an enormous music case strapped to his back. 

What in the hell is that, Ammie pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Patience. Patience.

They walked out onto the porch. Five scanned the street to see if anyone else was out until he noticed Ammie staring at him.

He raised a brow. “You have something to say?” 

I hate you. You’re not coming with us. I can’t stomach traveling with you. You flimsy excuse for a person. If you mess this up, I will rip your throat out with my claws.

The burning rage she felt when looking at his face was good. It was just the start to this night that she needed. Let it in, Ammie breathed, let it all in. Don’t think about anything else but this anger, this choking, coiling feeling swirling through your chest.

It’s all you need tonight.

“Why in the hell would you go pee outside when you have a toilet?”