War of Prey

48) Vanilla Cherry Fire

"Arson was in her blood and ice in her heart."

***

They are in the car headed for the nearest Parson Materials to get fire-proof paint, which Ambrose had never heard of. Jaxin sits next to him giving directions as Ambrose is driving down the London streets, taking in the nice scene of the bright morning. "Left, then we're there."

He makes the left and pulls the Aston Martin into the parking spot closest to the store. "What color are we getting?"

"What color is his room?"

"It's tan now, but he hates having the same color twice. He doesn't have a color preference, but he refuses to have the same color; the kid is weird."

"Well, let's see what they have. They've got a bunch of colors here," Jaxin smiles and leads Ambrose to the paint section, where bright colors assault his eyes. Every color, from white to beige is on the wall, all with a symbol of fire in a red circle with a line diagonally. Ambrose has to laugh. "What?"

"You weren't kidding about the fireproof paint, damn. What color should we get?" Jaxin walks over to the paints and stares at them, his feet taking him up and down the aisle, his brow furrowed in thought. He stops in front of the orange section. "Orange?"

"You don't like orange?" Jaxin asks, worry in his eyes. Why is he worried?

"No, I do. I was just asking what shade. I like the Tiger shade, I think it pops nice," Ambrose replies, moving closer to the paint and his arm brushes Jaxin's who jumps as if he was burned. He looks to Jaxin with concern but Jaxin diverts his gaze to the floor.

"Tiger's fine." He takes a can and walks away to the register; he types his name in and they leave the store. The way registers worked in the Forbidden Years was weird, you usually had a person to take the money or self-checkout where you scanned and inserted money. The strangest things always came from the Forbidden Years like COVID-19 and the girl who set everything on fire. Before Ambrose is even out of the store, Jaxin is in the passenger's seat with the paint resting against his stomach.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I saw something." They make their way back to the Highrise silently and leave to their room. "Are we starting now?"

"If you want. If not, Gwen can wait another day."

"No, I'm fine to go now. Painting calms me, maybe you'll even like it," he says, a small smile on his face.

"I doubt it." Gwen's room already reeked of smoke and charred flesh. Ambrose opens the door and Gwen is mixing bubbling chemicals that smell of sulfur and gasoline, goggles over his eyes, purple hair standing straight up with burn marks. "Gwen! Put the chemicals down."

Gwen's eyes drift up for a second and the room explodes into light. Ambrose's first instinct is to place his body in front of Jaxin's, protecting the younger boy with his body. Their bodies fall to the ground, Ambrose's hand cradled around the back of Jaxin's head preventing him from getting a concussion while his own head slams into the door. When he's sure the danger is gone he eases his body off of Jaxin's allowing the boy's head to touch the ground gently, he rolls off and holds his aching head, a warm feeling spreading over his palm. Blood. Hands are on his neck and a body poised above his, a sweet voice drifting to his ears, his eyes shoot open and he sees the white ceiling of the infirmary. "Why am I in here?"

"You have a concussion Demi said from your stupidity, but I say you have it for kindness. Thank you for covering me from the explosion and I feel bad this happened--"