Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

Gently, Hank squeezes my hand. “Are you sure?”

A fresh wave of tears stream down my face. “I can’t wait. Max needs my help...” I sniff, meeting his eyes. “And I need yours.”

Face stoic and still as stone, Hank extends a hand toward Brynn. Silent, she pulls her gun from its holster in her jacket. Hank takes it and presses the barrel to my temple. The muscles in his forearm stand out, and as he releases the safety, he says, “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, big guy.”

With that, he pulls the trigger.

19.

AGONY BURROWS THROUGH my skull as bone cracks. Fire blooms out from the center of my chest, slower than normal, crawling along my broken ribs, and dragging a scream from my throat. It eats my skin, lingering long enough for blisters to bubble up. All of my bones that weren’t broken before shatter.

I curl into a ball, as if this will alleviate the pain. Large hands grip my shoulders. Hank. Good old Hank. More family than those who share my blood. He hangs on through the whole awful thing, a fire-resistant stone to stand on in the middle of chaos and confusion.

Darkness finally drags over me like a shroud. It drapes across my body almost gently, ushering me away from the pain, drawing me into the nothing beyond. I float there, detached from either life or death, pleasure or pain, as weightless as a will-of-the-wisp.

Too long.

I’ve been in this space far too long. Did I spend the last of my lives? Do I not get another chance? It can’t be. Not when Max needs my help, not when I promised him, I would do whatever it takes to protect him. I have to figure out how to get back.

Forcing movement into my fingers first, I slowly reawaken my body heavy muscle by heavy muscle. I peel my eyes open to confront two intense lights. One bright and radiant white glows to my left, while the one to my right shines blue green like water reflecting a clear sky.

Hair drifting around my face, I spin between the two, sorting through theories as quickly as I can. While one of the two poles is culturally understood as the gateway to the afterlife — both in the fae realm and on earth — I can’t afford to make the wrong decision. What does anyone know about death anyway? Even my fellow phoenixes remember nothing about the pause between reincarnations.

So, which should I choose?

Fingers pressed to my lips, I spin between them. “A little help?” I ask, not expecting either the darkness or light to respond, and definitely not expecting a third light to grow before me.

Golden and warm, this one solidifies into the shape of a curly haired man. Brilliant wings curve out of his back. The feathers shift from royal blue to rich red at the tips — just like a phoenix — and fire sparks from the ends. He wears a smooth, passive expression, but it’s also soft, somehow, warm even.

He bows his head in greeting. “Yes, I am as you are, a phoenix waiting for others to come to the place between life and death, journey and rest. Consider me a guide on your journey, Faith.”

I don’t feel the typical stress the use of my birth name usually triggers in me. Its absence throws me off balance, so I struggle to find a response to this strange being. Mentally brushing past multiple questions born of simple curiosity, I center my focus on the most important one.

“Can you tell me how to get back?”

The man’s wings sweep gently, scattering the sparks like stars. “Is that what you want?”

Impatient, my eyes dart from one pole of light to the other, then back to the glowing phoenix before me. That question sounds like a trap, which only affirms my worry that these two options may not be as straightforward as they seem. I’ll have to play his game if I want to save Max.

I swipe my hands through the glowing dark. “I don’t have time for riddles. My friend needs my help. Which light do I choose?”

The man presses his palms together. “In order to move forward, this question is necessary. As is understanding the consequences.”

A spot deep in my chest quivers. “Consequences?”

“If you choose this path,” the man says, gesturing to the blue light. “You will be reborn as the rest of your kind, free of this curse. But if you choose the other...”

I dig my back teeth into the inside of my cheek. “I’ll keep dying every day.”

“No,” the man says. “Making this decision will end that cycle, but you will also be giving up your reincarnation. If you die again, you will not come out in any form. So, I entreat you again, consider carefully what you want.”

Palms pressed to my cheeks, I hover, frozen in place with this awful decision. I could be done with all this, be free of the exhaustion and anxiety this curse has placed on me. Hank and the others still might be able to save Max. Who better than Amazons and gargoyles to clear the name of an innocent person?

But I promised.

Trusting Hank and the others to fight for Max is reasonable, rational, but I don’t want to leave it to them. I want to be on the frontlines of the fight to prove his innocence and give Iris Smith the closure she deserves. I’m not ready to give up on that. As absurd a thought as it is, going back is worth it.

Because I’ve fallen for Max. Not in love. Not just yet. But I’ve certainly stumbled onto the path that might just lead me there, and I have no desire to veer off of it. This realization centers my spiraling thoughts, hardens my resolve.

Rolling my shoulders back, I straighten my spine. “That’s a consequence I’m willing to accept.”

The man’s lips curve into a faint smile. “You have chosen kindly. Approach the white