Margot watched Emili as she slept beside the comfort of the house’s crackling fireplace, wrapped in faux fur blankets, hair tousled and wet from her long, hot shower. She had been so quiet on the short drive home, and it was no wonder—fighting an ancient winter spirit was not exactly what Emili had signed up for when she had matched with Margot on that dating app. But now, Margot couldn’t help but wonder if it had been more than attraction and interest that had brought them together.
Emili had seen the Snow Maiden. Seen the dryads. Margot should have realized Emili was a hunter before the fight. If only she had known sooner, months ago. She wouldn’t have had to keep her real identity a secret. They could have trained this whole time! But until the road trip, there had been no clues, not a single one.
Unlike Margot, Emili didn’t know her birth parents. They could be anywhere, or nowhere. They could be anyone. Perhaps they had been young. Perhaps they had been terrified. Perhaps they died.
Were they elementalists, too? Had they met through secret social networks? Had they faced demons and spirits and monsters and ghosts? Had one of them been able to manipulate the elements like Emili had? This trait was inherited, a recessive gene. Neither of Margot’s birth parents were elementalists, something she was actually grateful for—the skill seemed a lot of work to control.
What hit hardest about all these realizations was that Emili would never be able to tell her adoptive parents what had happened today, what she discovered today.
Margot pondered these things instead of sleeping, comforted by the soft sounds of Emili’s fitless slumber.
Emili had fought the Snow Maiden and won. She had created fire. Fire! As if the universe decided there was an imbalance between the elements and, in their moment of need, bestowed Emili with the ability to manipulate the one element best suited for slaying winter spirits.
Margot didn’t know anyone else who could create and manipulate fire. Only energy or earth, like Nora, and wind and water. Manipulating water was useful when fighting winter spirits—shattering their ice spears or turning the frozen weapons against the spirits. But fire…
Emili was special.
Emili was dangerous.
A shiver ran up Margot’s spine, but not because she feared her girlfriend. No. She was afraid of how much the winter spirits would fear Emili, and worried that she would remain their target for as long as she lived.
Margot leaned in close to the sleeping Emili and lightly brushed her nose against her forehead.
“I love you,” she whispered. “And I will always protect you, my fire goddess.”