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

I blink slowly up at Max. Head sagging, tears stream down his cheeks. With a small grin, I gently press a palm into his knuckles. His eyes bug open and a stream of Portuguese flows from his lips as he pulls me into a crushing hug.

“Dude, I didn’t get a word of that,” I say in a strained voice.

Easing me down, Max runs a sleeve under his nose, a smile without pretense chasing away every shadow from his face. “When you didn’t burn up or turn to ash, I thought you were dead dead.”

“I was,” I say, wiping a tear off his chin with a thumb. “But I decided I didn’t like that journey for me.”

“You’ll have to break that one down for me when things settle,” Max says with a laugh.

Carefully, he helps me sit up. Blood still sticks my shirt and jeans to my body, my back still throbs from Iris’ claw attack, and my chest still stings, but somehow, I’m most definitely alive.

And restored, I think. That’s going to take some getting used to.

Iris stands a few feet away, hands clasped under her chin. She doesn’t smile when our eyes meet, but instead releases a heavy sigh. “Thank the Fates.”

“Or the phoenix fates.” I shove myself to my feet. “Max, grab me some wipes out of my bag. I’ve got a mess to clean up.”

After scrubbing the blood off my arms and hands, I place a sleeping spell on Yaritza — just in case — then call Hank. As my cell rings, I track Iris as she paces the dusty floor, still intensely wary of her, expecting a betrayal at any moment. If my strange life has taught me anything, it’s that change comes hard, and people are stubborn. Best to be prepared.

Hank’s greeting over the speaker relieves some of the weight fear presses down on my chest. “Hey kiddo. Please tell me this isn’t your one phone call. I can shell out for bail, but I might have to move around some funds.”

One hand on my forehead, I quiet a sigh. “You two both in one piece?”

“No missing parts,” Hanks says. “You?”

“A little scratched up, but our problem has been taken care of.” A dopey smile stretches across my face, so wide my face hurts. “More than one, actually. I’ll explain later, but right now, we could still use some of that Amazon/gargoyle clout.”

“We’re on our way. Where are you?”

As we wait for Hank and Laurien to get to us, I sit next to Max on the floor, pulling out a water bottle and shoving it into his hands. “That was a pretty stupid move you made back there.”

Max splutters droplets with a laugh. “Hey, it worked didn’t it?” He wipes his damp chin with an arm, shadows smudging the tops of his cheeks as his face falls. “You had to kill yourself again, didn’t you?”

I rest my elbows on my knees. “As I often do.”

Max turns his hand over on his leg and I take it. Blood sticks our palms together. “Sorry you had to waste another one on me.”

Lifting my shoulders, I consider whether or not to tell him what I initially gave up to save his life. It might not matter now that I’ve broken the curse entirely. But part of me wants him to know, to understand, at least in a small way, that his life was worth saving.

“I don’t regret it,” I say. “And now I won’t have to die and come back anymore. You were right. Turns out there was a limit.”

A wrinkle cuts a line between Max’s eyebrows. “So how did you get back?”

I study the dusty floor, turning the complicated truth over in my head. “I was given a choice: start over in the phoenix cycle or come back without a safety net. That’s why I didn’t burn up when I bled out.”

Max’s grip on my hand tightens. “Wow.” He rubs his face. “That’s intense, mama. Why?”

I sock him in the thigh with a knuckle. “Because I kind of like you, dork face. Plus, I promised I’d save you. I don’t like going back on my word. It doesn’t matter now though.”

“What do you mean?” Max asks.

“When I died this time, just a few minutes ago, I was given another chance.” I grin. “Saving you broke my curse.”

Sliding his hand up my arm, Max cups my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. Skin alive with goosebumps, I press my lips to his, soaking in the sweetness of his touch. After all the pain, past and present, the pleasure of this gentle moment curls my toes. Giving up that rest doesn’t feel like such a sacrifice here in Max’s embrace.

His fingers slide into my hair. I scoot closer, pulling up short when the claw marks on my back send red hot pain through me. With a groan, I drop my head onto his shoulder, bracing myself on my fists so I don’t dump any of my weight on his damaged body. He lets out a small grunt as well.

“Sorry,” I say. “I guess battle wounds aren’t exactly conducive to make out sessions. Action movies have lied to us.”

Max cups my cheek, tracing a path with his thumb lightly. “You just wait ‘til a healer fixes us up. I’ll blow your mind.”

Easing back onto my heels, I click my tongue. “I’ll hold you to that, Avila. If there aren’t fireworks, I’ll be sorely disappointed.”

“Mama, I never disappoint.”

Soon, Hank and Laurien arrive, bringing with them a whole slew of paranormal police and a Tribunal member or two. A handful of officers deal with Yaritza and Iris while the rest surround Max and me with a flurry of questions.

Exhausted, I mumble through explanations of the events of the last forty-eight hours as a healer tends to my wounds. As another cares for Max. I keep my focus on him the whole time, afraid that if I look away something might happen to him.