THE FIRE SAGA

FLAME 64 - RATION

Yeah, I was totally right. Crawling into Derry's arms is glorious. If I'm sharing my flame, I'm glad he's around to stoke the fire. Just being in the same room with him sets my blood to boiling, quickly refilling my reserves. Lying next to him...well, that's third-degree-burn-inducing. Having him cocooning me is just the kind of ration I need to fuel me for the day.

It'll be another long one—they all are—starting with me force-feeding Brody. Derry isn't the apex option for a team lift, being they can't see eye to eye, but their getting along is more my concern at this juncture. What if Derry sides with Brody?

"Breakfast," Derry murmurs.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to cook something for you." I snort derisively. "Unless you like burnt toast. I've mastered that."

He laughs, his chest vibrating enough I sense how fully awake his body is. "Lucky for us, Barry delivers."

Our closeness makes me an entirely different hungry, and I spin to face him before he finds the good sense to peel away from me. "Hi," I whisper in his ear, breathing in his delicious Morning Glories and Sunshine.

He leans down to kiss me chastely on the forehead. "Morning, Sweetheart."

Ouch. Flirtation thwarted.

Suddenly, a thunderstorm is crashing up my stairwell. Before I've braced for impact, Barry's charging through the door with a smile as wide as his broad chest.

"Hey, hey," he booms.

In his hands is a basket, and in that basket are the fluffiest muffins I've ever seen. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of cinnamon. "For me?" I ask sweetly.

"Only prime cuts for my little pressure cooker." Barry's beam is a beautifully horrific sight.

My cheeks flood a crimson matching his spandex shirt. Derry grumbles, hauling the blankets back over his head.

Barry grins wickedly, yeeting the covers with one hand and gracefully passing over the basket with the other. "Someone didn't get enough beauty rest?"

I retrieve a muffin and press it to my lips. There have been a few narrow misses where I hastily bit into something smelling much better than it tasted. While continuing to siphon my fire fuel means easier meals, they aren't all charcoal-free. All in all, being Barry's taste tester isn't an all-around bad job.

Determined to be completely positive before taking a large bite of the muffin, I run my tongue over the top for one final check. I open my mouth, slide a piece in, and am welcomed by a deep, searing flame igniting in my gut. The firepower chokes me, so Barry leans forward to slap me soundly on the back, launching my breakfast across the bedroom, where it caught in my throat.

Barry guffaws, holding his stomach and carrying on until he has tears in his eyes. I open my mouth to growl at him but cough instead. This causes Barry to laugh harder. Guess who else isn't laughing? At the top of the bed, Derry's resting against the headboard, glaring daggers at his brother.

"What did you put in that thing?" I wheeze.

"It wasn't my cooking that gave you fire gut."

I sniff.

"Someone." He points to Derry. "Was watching you fluff that muffin, and I don't have to be a mind-reader to pick up on what he was thinking."

"Enough," Derry warns him.

"I don't blame him," Barry persists, obviously undaunted by Derry's threats. "Watching you eat is pretty hot."

I shrug and reach for another muffin.

Barry widens hopeful eyes in my direction. "See you at lunch?"

"If you keep feeding me like this, you might see me for a second breakfast."

"Someone has to take care of you."

Derry groans, and I smile brightly. "Don't worry. If he keeps this up, there'll be plenty of me to share."

Barry waggles his brow. "Whatcha want for lunch?"

"Something mild," Derry suggests. Party. Pooper.

"Thanks for—" Barry stops me short by hoisting me off the bed to swing me around in his giant bear arms.

"Pay the toll," he demands, shifting to hold me with one hand, pointing to his cheek with the other, and puckering his lips. "Right there."

"Forget it," I whine, refusing his forced affection.

"You're coming with me." He chuckles. "You don't get released until you pay the toll."

"Fine," I cave, scrunching up my nose.

I actually don't mind the intimacy. I'm fast craving the insulation my family provides. As an aside, I rather enjoy his Fennel and Crushed Rock scent.

Of course, I won't cater to his demands that easily. I'm stubborn. As I draw close to his cheek, his smile is so wide I'm afraid the nearing dimple will swallow me whole. I gently press my lips to his skin, shocking my way out of his arms by blowing raspberries all over his face.

I take off out the door, squealing like an adolescent. Barry gives chase. I briefly acknowledge my father's location as I bolt through the front door. Recliner again.

I hear him laugh, though, and his happiness at the light-hearted fun. "Best give it up, Kid. You won't catch her. She's got her mom's speed."

And, it took a coma to slow her down. I'm confident I'll wake her. First things first. I need to force some energy into someone else very dear to me. Unlike Derry's stalled augmentation, supplementation for Brody is on the menu.

"Tell Derry not to forget the muffins!" I bellow, stopping halfway up the driveway. "I need them for bribes."

Barry's instantly distracted from chasing me. "My muffins are good enough for bribes?"

"More than good enough." I flutter my lashes. "Next time, try raspberry."

I'm out of the driveway before he can take a single step toward me. He definitely isn't as fast as me. It's a good thing, too. I'm not sure what muscleman torture he'd pull if he caught me. He chases me around the street, where I duck behind trees, jump over shrubs, and have fun in my neighborhood obstacle course until he tires. He's buff, but I'm a runner. No problems outlasting him.

Barry finally stops, leans forward, and rests his palms on his knees. I run over to him and kiss both his dimpled cheeks. Derry smirks, jerking a thumb toward his SUV.

"Service paid in full," I chirp before hopping into the passenger seat next to Derry. "Plus a well-earned tip."