Into the Fire (Flame in the Shadows Trilogy #1)

1. Mel

CHAPTER ONE

MEL

Who knew a murderer could look so friendly.

The plastic edges of Mara Levett’s security badge bite into my fingers as I study her faded picture, fear and anticipation prickling up my neck. She looks more like someone’s mom than the CEO of the nation’s largest weapons manufacturer.

Honestly, even if the explosion that killed my parents was an accident, she’s complicit. The news said she put profits ahead of safety, then dodged the fallout when four people paid with their lives. No consequences for her or anyone in her company, and certainly no remorse.

Fury claws up my throat, my eyes too hot, too wet.

I fling Mara’s badge toward my bedroom and return to the mess of colorful tank tops in front of me, unable to stand the sight of her warm smile for another second. I shouldn’t have tossed something so important into the box with all my running stuff, even if the movers brought it in last and left it easiest to reach. Careless.

There they are, at the very bottom.

Battered Nikes in hand, I climb to my feet and scan the condo for my new keycard. Early-morning sunshine leaks in through the bare windows, illuminating empty beige walls and pale carpets. A mattress takes up most of the tiny bedroom to the right, and a couple stools sit at the built-in breakfast bar, but that’s it. All I have.

Well, that and the boxes. Towers of them hover around me, an intimidating city of brown cardboard skyscrapers that dominate the otherwise barren living room. My eyes skip over the untouched stacks, where half-remembered stories and long-dead laughter lurk like shadows among belongings from another life; too painful to examine, yet too precious to toss away.

The image of Dad, covered in dried purple and blue paint, brows pinched together and brush sweeping over yet another canvas. The sound of Mom’s bright voice reminiscing about summers spent working the fields as a farmgirl with Grandma and Grandpa.

To think they grew up here, in tiny Clearwater, New Hampshire, thirty-six hundred miles and a world away from the home we shared. I hoped by living in the town where they were born, I’d feel their presence, but so far all I feel is the distance. Hollow echoes.

Ghosts.

Stop.

I blow out a breath. Force myself to focus. Grab the keycard off the counter, yank on my sneakers, and head for the door. I need to get outside.

Now.

That first step into the newly minted sunshine is a release, the fresh mountain air a thrill in my aching chest. The breeze nips at my damp cheeks and raises goosebumps on my arms, cleaner than I’m used to, but missing the salty tang of the sea. And how is it cold? Early mornings in July are warm back in California. Maybe even hot.

It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t want to go back inside, where the boxes and memories wait, not even to pull on a hoodie. So, I ignore the chill and hunt along the edge of the trees for the running trail I noted last night on my map of the condo complex. When I find the thin, twisty path, I step into a light jog, warming my stiff muscles. The building is lost as the forest closes around me, still and quiet except for the sound of my breath whooshing in and out.

Too still. Too quiet. It’s hard to be sure this isn’t a dream, that I’m actually here, on the eve of my first shift as Levett Tech’s newest receptionist. Tomorrow is all I’ve thought about since the police finally released their reports six months ago.

Levett’s version of what happened to Mom and Dad had stood. Apparently, I’m supposed to believe they were working late in the R Dad used to give me trouble all the time for running without it.

Mouth dry, I crouch down to study the compacted dirt. If I’m lucky, maybe my footprints will lead me home.

Well, to the condo any?—

“Hey, are you okay?”

I flinch like I’ve been tasered, falling onto my butt with a loud “Oof!”

There hadn’t been any hint of someone approaching. No footsteps, no rustle of leaves or crunch of twigs. At least not that I noticed.

And yet, a guy’s leaning over me, hands on his knees. I freeze, breath hitching, and gaze up at the most perfect face I’ve ever seen.

The stranger’s loose curls are warm brown, with gilded undertones that shine in the dappled light. His skin is golden tan, his jaw angular. Eyes of a gorgeous shade of green shot through with gold are framed by thick lashes. He looks older than my nineteen years, but not by much.

Some part of me notes through the shock he’s covered in sweat too, clutching a water bottle and wearing a tank top, athletic shorts, and sneakers. He must be a runner. An avid one, by the look of those Asics. They’re beat to death.

I blink, stunned by both his beauty and the unexpected arrival. His smile fades as we stare at each other.

I shake myself mentally. “Um, what?”

Concern lights his distinctive eyes. “I asked if you’re okay. You’re pretty far out here, and you kind of look upset.”

“Yeah, I’m lost. I didn’t realize how easy it is to get turned around in these woods.”

Abruptly, Dad’s near constant warnings about runners going missing pop into my head. Abductors are a real threat, especially out here.

The guy nods. “Best to make sure you always have a way to navigate until you know the trails.”

Duh. Awesome job, Mel.

“I was overconfident, I guess. I’ve never been lost on a run before.”

The stranger gives me a dazzling smile. “Well, lucky for you, I know these woods inside out. I can help you find your way.” He straightens up, holds out a hand.

I chew my lip. Should I tell this guy, however gorgeous, where I live? What if he works at Levett Tech?

Odds are he does. Levett is the only big company in the area, and most of Clearwater’s population is employed there.

I stole Mara’s badge to access classified intel. I need to keep to myself.

On the other hand, I have no idea how to get home, and circling the woods until an animal eats me will not expose Mom and Dad’s killers.

“Thank you,” I say, taking his hand. “I appreciate the help.”

As I haul myself off the ground, my eyes fall on the bands of lean muscle running up his arm. A quiet gasp slides through my lips, my cheeks warming.

Worried he might catch me looking, I turn my gaze quickly to his face. But I have to wonder, could the rest of his body look as good? No one at my school in California had been muscled up like that, not even the athletes.

My rescuer tugs down his shirt, then fiddles with the thick twine macrame bracelet on his wrist. His eyes sweep the woods around us before settling back on me. “It’s going to take a while to get out of here, so we better get moving. Where are we headed?”

“The Golden Valley condo complex in Clearwater. You know it?”

“The new development?”

“Yeah, think so.”

He nods, turning and striding away without a word, which is odd considering how chatty he was a second ago.

Heat creeps over my cheeks again as I hurry to catch up. I give him a friendly smile. “I’m Mel.”

“Hi, Mel. I’m Tommy.”

Tommy doesn’t smile back. Doesn’t even look my way.

I glance down at my laces, then back at his expressionless face. Did I do something to tick him off?

Or … Oh no. Did he catch me checking him out?

My face burns. He’s probably used to being hit on, but I didn’t mean anything by that look. I don’t want a relationship, whether he’s interested or not.

Even so, it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t aware of my history. No awkward, half-sincere pity, no empty words of comfort, and no sidelong glances from people wondering whether I’m still sane, still me. I could use a friend out here, especially one who has no idea I’m an orphan.

As long as he doesn’t work at Levett Tech.

I cast around for something to say, to smooth the situation over, and my eyes fall once more on his scruffy Asics. They make my banged-up old Nikes look healthy.

“So, you run?”

“Almost every day.” The corner of Tommy’s mouth twitches up, but his eyes are cool. Distant. He keeps them fixed ahead.

“You know, I run too. That’s how I got so far out here.”

He nods once. “I guessed, but I don’t want to tire you out trying to run all the way to Clearwater. It’s not close.”

I bite my tongue against the snarky response that springs to my lips. Why won’t he drop the frigid attitude? It’s not like my faux pas was a big deal. If anything, he should be flattered.

Fine. I’ll show him.

“I bet I can make it,” I say with a cheeky grin.

Tommy huffs a reluctant laugh. “I like your confidence, but I don’t want to end up carrying you.”

I roll my eyes. If only he knew Mom and I always placed first and second in Coral City’s annual Turkey Trot Marathon. Every year she let me pull ahead right at the end to claim the gold.

A heavy weight settles in my chest.

Stop. Focus. Breathe.

“You know what? I bet I can make it more easily than you. Want to race?”

I hop from foot to foot, hoping he’ll say yes. Okay, so he looks like someone in peak physical condition. Be that as it may, most people can’t run as far as I can. It’s a talent I’ve worked on for years, and I’m proud of it.

Tommy snorts. “You don’t want to challenge me. Trust me.”

“That sounds like an excuse to say no. Worried you’ll get beaten by a girl?” My grin turns angelic.

He flashes a real smile then, finally looking my way. His eyes dance. “Yeah, you wish. Okay. You’re on.”

Without warning, he takes off down the trail. His every movement appears weightless, graceful even as he flies over the bumpy ground. A beat late, I launch myself after him.

I’m forced to lag half a step behind, needing him to show me the way as we dash through the trees. Tommy doesn’t falter in his pace, but I don’t lose an inch on him either. We run like this for an immeasurable length of time. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Even though we don’t speak much, the company is nice.

Eventually, clear yellow light shines through the trees ahead—the woods’ edge. I pour on the speed, passing Tommy right before we slip through the last of the branches. Somehow, we’re back at my condo complex.

“I win!”

Tommy chuckles, slowing to a walk and taking a long swig from his water bottle. The way he’s looking at me … he’s impressed. “You weren’t lying. Wow.”

“That was nothing.”

His eyes light up. “How far do you usually run?”

“It depends on the day. On weekends, I log at least fifteen miles, sometimes up to twenty-five. Weekdays, it’s more like five. Whatever I can squeeze in before school. Or work, now, I guess.”

“Good for you.”

“Do you live nearby?” I’d love to have a running partner for a neighbor.

Tommy fidgets, his face falling. Perhaps I’m not the only one with misgivings about handing out my address. Or is he still being weird about before? Does he think I’m coming on to him again?

After a moment, he says, “Uh, yeah, I live in that old manor house. The stone one, down on Route 16. But I’m not home often. I … I work a lot.”

“Workaholic, huh? Where do you work?”

Please don’t say Levett Tech.

“Um. I’m in … uh, sales.”

Does a weapons manufacturer have a sales department? I have no idea.

“Sounds riveting. What do you sell?”

“Parts. Auto. Car parts.”

“Ah.”

We stand awkwardly facing each other, neither of us speaking. I can’t shake the suspicion he’s not being honest, but he has no reason to lie to me, a complete stranger, about where he works. Unless…

If Levett Tech can buy their way out of trouble when four people are killed on their watch, they could also send someone to keep tabs on me. Have they figured out who I am? Why I’m here?

Fear creeps up my spine. God knows how far they might go to keep me quiet. I need to find out more, to question Tommy further and look for tells. Liars always have them.

Wringing my hands, I blurt, “Do you want to run with me tomorrow morning? I usually go early, as I said.”

He hesitates again, probably trying to figure out how to tell me no, because he’s just a normal guy with a normal life and I’m paranoid like everyone back home said. But it’s not worth the risk to let this go without making sure I’m safe.

He’s still staring at me, a little too intense, like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle. Why? A controlling girlfriend? A secret assignment and accompanying guilty conscience?

“Um, yeah. Sure. I’ll meet you here. What time?” He gives me a small smile, twisting his bracelet around his wrist.

“Six? It was great to meet you.” I hold out my hand.

Tommy takes it, smiling widely now. Sparks skitter over my skin at the casual contact, zapping up my arm and through my chest. The sensation is shocking, and I drop his hand quickly.

“Six. It’s nice to meet you too, Mel.” His green-and-gold eyes shine.

He waves as he bounds back toward the woods, every motion graceful as a dancer. I watch him go, my hand tingling where he held it.

For the first time in five years, I’m not thinking about my parents.