Within the Flames by Marjorie M. Liu Read Free Book Online Page A

the way she moved was beautiful—a dancer, graceful and certain of each light step. Everyone around her seemed like a clod in comparison, weighted down, hard and gray—while she flowed through them, around them, in a patchwork of color. Warm and sublime, and welcoming.
    Confident, he thought . . . but a heartbeat later she bowed her head, just so, and touched her covered throat. The gesture was pained and vulnerable, in the same way the boy was vulnerable.
    As though she felt lost. Out of place.
    It cut Eddie again, right in the heart. Deeper, even. He felt an instant, and inexplicable connection to the woman, as though she was a page out of his own book—someone whose pain mirrored his own.
    Which was ridiculous, of course. He didn’t know her. She was just one woman out of eight million people in this city—and here he was, making up a story for her. Pretending that he understood her. A stranger.
    It all makes pathetic sense. I’ll never know that woman. I’ll never hurt her, and she’ll never hurt me. Of course I’m attracted.
    She’s untouchable.
    And yet . . . as he watched her . . .
    I would take care of you, came the unbidden thought, and the need and hunger that followed rocked him to the core; so overwhelming, his breath caught with the pain of it.
    I wish I could.
    The woman stumbled. The boy reached out and grabbed her hand. Eddie took a step in their direction.
    He stopped, though. He couldn’t just run after her. What would be the point?
    If I were safe, he thought to himself. If I were sand n> wefe to be touched   . . .
    He took another step, anyway. And then realized something was wrong.
    The woman was staring at Lannes.
    The boy stood on the sidewalk, but the woman was partially in the road, one foot on the curb, remaining very still as she watched the gargoyle—who had walked a short distance ahead without noticing that Eddie wasn’t with him.
    An entire street and heavy foot traffic separated them, but there was no question who had caught her attention.
    She’s looking at a handsome man. It happens. There was no need to feel jealous about that, either.
    But, moments later, it became clear something else was going on. Her face was too pale, jaw slack, eyes wide and stunned. The boy tugged on her sleeve, worried, but the young woman ignored him—staring at the oblivious gargoyle with what seemed to be deep, profound shock.
    Too much shock. The first time Eddie had ever watched a shifter change shape from human to animal, he had felt a similar astonishment. No doubt his expression had appeared the same.
    She can see through the illusion, he thought, followed by another realization:
    She looks like the girl in the photograph. The resemblance was uncanny: in the set of her mouth and the tilt of her eyes.
    Eddie ran halfway across Columbus Circle before realizing he had moved. He heard his name called. Lannes. Eddie did not look back to explain but instead watched the woman turn her head, slowly—to stare at him.
    His world stopped. Everything inside him, around him, suspended in a wash of a terrible heat. Even from across the street, he could see the color of her eyes: golden as the sunrise. Fire licked beneath his skin, inside his heart, in his bones—but it felt transcendent, made of light instead of flame. Light, burning inside him.
    It was her. Lyssa Andreanos. No mistake. No doubt. He was staring into the face of a little girl who had grown into a woman.
    Strands of hair floated around her face. Her golden eyes were large and sharp with intelligence—tempered with the vulnerability that had haunted him from the first moment he had seen her.
    Fate, he thought, stunned she was here. Fate and magic.
    But his wonderment was smashed to a thousand pieces as her expression turned stark with fear. It cut him, so cold his first instinct was to retreat. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, startled and numb as she fumbled for the boy’s arm, frantically pulling him with her as she