Ride For Me, Die For Me.

Chapter 29: After the Fire

The wind carried ash.

It fell in quiet flakes across the yard, catching on the porch steps, dusting the roots of Granny’s old cedar tree like snowfall from some other world. The scar on my back still hummed, not in pain, but in echo — like it remembered what just happened even if I couldn’t find words for it yet.

Justin sat beside me in the dirt, his palm still pressed between my shoulder blades. We were both breathing heavy, smoke in our lungs and magic in our bones.

I turned my head slightly. “You followed it here?”

He didn’t speak at first. Just nodded, eyes still on the spot where the thing vanished. “Three days. That portal… it took me through every place I ever tried to forget.”

Something cracked inside me. The weight of what he’d done — for me — wrapped around my ribs and pulled tight.

“You found me anyway,” I whispered.

His gaze finally met mine. “You’re the only thing I was looking for.”

A door creaked. Then another.

Voices rose, cautious and quick, and then feet hit the porch.

Granny was the first one out — wrapped in a red shawl, her eyes wild, her cane in one hand like she was ready to swing it at the next shadow that moved wrong. My mother wasn’t far behind her, followed by Lily and Nyla, barefoot and clutching knives that looked pulled straight from ceremony.

They froze when they saw us — crouched in the clearing, still half-wrapped in light.

My sisters blinked in unison. Lily’s mouth opened first. “What the hell—”

But Granny raised a hand and silenced everyone. She stepped closer, careful, her old bones groaning, but her spirit still fierce as ever. Her eyes scanned me, then Justin. Then the yard.

“You two really just fought it out with death in my front yard?” she muttered.

I couldn’t help it — I laughed. Exhausted and aching, but real.

Justin coughed out a sound that might’ve been a chuckle. “Sorry ‘bout the noise, ma’am.”

Granny looked like she wanted to scold us. Instead, she just shook her head and sighed. “Get y’all inside before the ground opens up again.”

She turned around and hobbled toward the porch, muttering something in Diné I didn’t catch.

The others lingered a beat, eyes still wide. Lily mouthed you good? from the porch. I nodded.

Justin stood first, then reached down, offering me his hand. I took it.

Our fingers stayed laced longer than necessary.

He helped me up slow, careful like I was glass. But I wasn’t. Not anymore.

Still, when I swayed, he caught me.

We stood there, side by side, on the porch.

The night buzzed with leftover heat and energy, the scent of scorched air still clinging to the yard. My hand was wrapped in Justin’s, knuckles raw, arms covered in soot and spirit ash. His grip didn’t waver, even though his chest was rising like he hadn’t fully caught his breath. Neither of us had.

The porch light flickered once. The front door creaked.

Then: the screen door swung wide.

Granny stepped out first, calm as ever, a faded quilt shawl around her shoulders like she’d known to expect this moment. Behind her, my mother, Lily, and Nyla filtered out, eyes wide, tense, scanning me head to toe.

We didn’t move.

“Diyin nishłį́,” Granny whispered under her breath. Holy spirit, she meant.

My mother’s gaze locked on mine, sharp and soft all at once. Her voice didn’t carry judgment, just a heavy, tired love. “You alright?”

“I’m here,” I said, barely above a whisper. My voice cracked. “We’re here.”

Lily blinked like she’d been holding her breath for hours. “What the hell happened?” she asked. “We felt the floor shake. Nyla said she saw the moon split.”

“I said it looked like it did,” Nyla said, elbowing her. “Which it did.”

Justin’s voice cut through, low but firm. “The entity… it ran. I chased it.”

All eyes turned toward him.

“I thought it died in New Orleans,” he continued. “After my father. After Dree ran. But it didn’t. It hid in the spaces between… fed off every scar, every dark place I left behind.”

His eyes met mine. “And it found her.”

“You brought that thing here?” my mother asked, more confused than angry.

“No,” I said quickly. “He didn’t. It tried to escape him. He followed it through the portal. He stopped it. We stopped it.”

Granny nodded slowly, stepping forward to trace the air near my back. The scar pulsed faintly beneath the skin, but the color was different now — less angry, less consuming.

“It didn’t feed this time,” she said. “It drained, but it didn’t grow. Something shifted.”

“Because he was there,” I said, eyes flicking to Justin.

“I told you it wasn’t just my scar,” Justin added. “It’s tied to both of us now. Two ends of the same thread. That thing… it’s been chasing the echo of our energy, not just one of us. That’s why it couldn’t kill me. Why it wanted her. We’re connected.”

Lily raised a brow. “Okay, now you’re both glowing and bonded and whatnot — but are you telling us that this… thing chased you outta New Orleans, and you didn’t think to mention it before?”

Justin scrubbed a hand down his face. “I didn’t know. I thought I left it buried. All my stuff is still there. My altar, my tools… hell, my boots. I didn’t plan to come through a damn portal mid-battle.”

“You were supposed to rest,” Nyla muttered, arms crossed.

“Rest later,” Granny said. “Talk now.”

She turned and ushered us all inside like the front yard hadn’t just been a battlefield. Inside smelled like cedar, sage, and old grief. The kind of scent that held you even when you didn’t want to be held.

We all sat around the kitchen table — me, Justin, Granny, Mama, Lily, and Nyla. Nyla plopped a cold jar of moonwater in front of us like a peace offering. “For real,” she said. “Y’all look like you wrestled a shadow bear.”

“I did worse,” Justin mumbled.

Granny nodded, looking toward him. “Tell us.”

He took a breath. “There’s a site in New Orleans. The Crossroads of St. Étienne. That’s where it all started. Papa Toussaint tried to hold the balance, but when my father was killed… something fractured. I ran. But part of that energy followed. It waited for me to either break — or find her.”

“Me?” I asked.

“You,” he said without flinching. “You’re the key. You’ve always been.”

A silence settled over the room, heavy as ritual smoke.

Finally, Mama spoke. “Then what’s next?”

“I go back. Eventually. I have unfinished work there. But not without her knowing everything. And not until she’s ready.”

I looked at him, something in my chest tugging warm and deep. “You followed it through a portal,” I said, quiet. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

He met my eyes. “I told you. I ride for you.”

Granny made a low sound in her throat, almost amused. “Then you’ll both need training. Together. Because next time, it won’t just run.”

“Wait,” Lily said. “Next time? There’s more?”

Granny looked at me and Justin, her tone suddenly sharp with certainty. “That was a scout. The scar hasn’t closed. The real storm is still coming.”

And for once, I didn’t feel afraid.

Because he was sitting beside me, hands still warm, heart still steady.

And I wasn’t running anymore either.