The Gift

Chapter 94

Whit

When my little sister flares up in anger, sometimes she's just a regular, run-of-the-mill human torch with fire swirling all around her body, and you would definitely be well-advised not to shake her hand. Other times, though, she's so bright and hot, it's hard even to look at her. Like right now.

But Byron does look at her. In fact, he's totally gaga, like he's never been so impressed with her skills.

Wisty's ropes and gag last all of a nanosecond as she bounds up from the ground and takes a couple of menacing swipes at Byron's freaky death squad. They wisely move back a few stuttering steps. I'm certain she could smoke their wiry butts into ash, but for some reason she doesn't.

While the ape-kids recoil, Byron steps closer to Wisty. He looks to be in a daze. He absently drops his Command Pipe as his eyes glaze over.

Wisty waves her hands wildly. "Get away from me, Byron! I'm as hot as a hundred furnaces. Just leave now and I won't hurt you!"

"You can't hurt me, Wisty," he says. "Not anymore." Then he does the unthinkable. I'm bound and gagged and can't do a thing as I watch Byron throw himself right into Wisty's flames. She tries to pull away, but then he's clutching her as if he's a child and she's here to rescue him.

Wisty was right. We're not murderers. As much as I hate this kid, I can't sit still and let Byron immolate himself.

"Byron! What're you doing? Stop!" Wisty yells. "Stop, drop, and roll!"

"You can't hurt me, Wisty," Byron repeats dreamily, despite the crackling and hissing flame surrounding him. He must be delirious. Obviously he's being burned to death, but he's showing absolutely no signs of pain.

The feral kids, confused and without any command to guide them, are starting to growl again. But Byron is oblivious, his face buried in Wisty's neck, his arms wrapped around her. As if he's drinking in her fire.

And… he's not burning.

He's not burning!