Firestorm (Smoke & Ashes Book 1)

by D. N. Hoxa

  “I had no idea,” Lexar whispered.

  “What the fuck does it matter?” It didn’t. I wasn’t psychic. I couldn’t see the damn future. If I could, I’d have kept away from that witch altogether, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have left Chelsea alone in my apartment. I’d have taken her to fucking Europe for the month, just in case.

  Now, her whole life was in ruins, and it was all my fault.

  “You need sleep,” Feather Girl said. “Come on, lie down here.” She actually grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me down on the couch. I wanted to get back up, but my body had other ideas. My back was still burning. My skin was a mess, but at least my new hoodie had held. Not a scratch on it, just my shirt and skin. Also, my bra was barely holding on by a thin string. Good thing I was basically boob-less.

  The panic wanted to take over, a voice in my head insisting that Chelsea would wake up any minute now and I’d need to be there to help her. But how could I help her when I could barely stand on my own?

  Feather Girl was right. I really needed to sleep.

  “I’ll just rest my eyes for a second,” I mumbled, and as if by a switch, the world went dark again.

  14

  I rarely ever dreamed, but most times, my mother was there. I couldn’t exactly remember her face, but I remembered the feeling of her being there, and that’s how I knew that the faceless woman with the long red hair was her. I couldn’t even remember her eyes properly. I just knew that they were blue.

  This time, though, my mother was not in the dream. It was just me and Nevermore, and I only realized it was a dream because I couldn’t focus on our surroundings for the life of me.

  I also felt different when I looked at him, like I’d felt a year ago, when we first met. We were outside somewhere, in the dream, cobblestones under our feet, a dark sky over our heads, no moon in sight. Nevermore said something I can’t even remember, but he smiled. I smiled. I wanted him so much it made my stomach tie up in a million knots. And he knew it.

  He wanted me, too.

  And that’s the third indicator that it was a dream. He had never really wanted me, he’d just pretended he did—or I’d made myself believe he did because, like I said, I wanted him more than I ever had anybody else before. I was never ashamed to admit my feelings. They were what they were. You can’t really control feelings, no matter what you tell yourself or how hard you try, because it never really is up to us. It’s up to the person or the situation that creates them in the first place. I realized that early on, when my mother died, and I never really bothered trying again.

  But pretending worked for most. Fake it till you make it is an acceptable way to get through the day when you’re stuck in something. Or on someone.

  In the dream, Lexar said something else, and he came close to me now, dangerously close. In the back of my mind, the part that was conscious that this was a dream insisted that we’d been here before. We had. I remembered the night. It was about a week after we’d met, and we were searching for clues about the mission we were given—my first and only mission given to me by the Fallen. I’d been much more willing to cooperate then.

  But that night a year ago, we hadn’t been laughing like this. Lexar hadn’t leaned down his head as he looked at me like he wanted to either electrocute me or undress me with a single thought.

  Dreams are strange. When I’d lived the real moment, I’d thought about whether or not he would kiss me that night. I remembered it because I wondered when he’d kiss me all the time. In the dream, I wondered out loud.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” I asked him, and my voice sounded strange, too, not like my own. Very…dreamy. Nervousness gripped at my chest, and I tried to look everywhere but at him. He made me feel things I’d never felt with anyone before. I’d never been nervous when talking to guys.

  He didn’t say anything. He just continued to come closer and closer until I had no choice but to look at him.

  And then our lips met.

  There should have been a fine line between the dream and reality. Maybe there was and I just didn’t see it. But the feel of his lips on mine shocked me. I pushed myself back because I already knew how this would end. He’d look at me with mock and contempt, and I hated that look so much my fingers wanted to catch fire just at the reminder of it.

  When my head hit a wall, the pain barely registered, but it was a clear indicator that I was no longer outside, on the cobblestone street, under the night sky. Sunlight streamed in through a window, falling at the corner of the bed I was in. A bed, not the street. And Lexar wasn’t smiling like he did in the dream. He didn’t look like he had in the dream, either.

  “What the fuck?” I said, my voice hoarse, as I tried in vain to get a grip on my confusion and panic.

  “Calm down, Sassy Pants. You’re okay,” the asshole said, his black eyes gleaming.

  “Why the hell are you standing there?” I was sleeping. Why was he watching me like that?

  “Because you called for me.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I didn’t call for you, you dickhead.” I was sleeping! He saw me sleeping.

  “Yes, you did.” He didn’t even hesitate. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

  “Don’t you dare come into the room again when I’m sleeping, or I swear to God I’ll melt your skin off. You know I will.”

  He wasn’t afraid, not in the least, which made me realize that I might not look as intimidating as I wanted to. Probably because I was in his apartment, wearing an oversized white shirt he probably owned, too, and I was somewhere on a bed that was his. Real great. How the hell did my face even look? And my hair?

  Did I even want to know?

  Goddamn it.

  “Calm down, Princess. You called for me. You were asking me to kiss you, too—literally.”

  My eyes closed involuntarily. Why was this happening to me?

  “I was dreaming, you prick.” Normally, I didn’t resort to curse words—out loud—when talking to him, but right now, I wasn’t feeling a lot like myself. I was mortified, and only he could make me feel like this over a stupid dream.

  He raised his brows and a mischievous grin followed. “Do you dream about me often?”

  If looks could kill, he’d be dead by now. Shivers broke down my back. I hated situations like this. “Just stay the fuck away from me when I’m sleeping, okay? I’m not going to warn you again.”

  “So don’t sleep in my apartment, don’t call out my name, and we’ll have no trouble.” Ugh. I wanted to slap that grin off his face so badly. “It’s past noon, by the way.”

  “You’re kidding.” I looked out the window next to the bed, and sure enough, the sun was really high up in the sky. Shit. “Why the hell didn’t you wake me earlier?”

  I was going to pull the white sheet off me, but then I realized I wasn’t wearing anything else—just the shirt. Lexar’s shirt. I took the sheet with me and wrapped it around my legs.

  “I thought you just said I wasn’t supposed to come near you when you’re asleep? Make up your mind, Princess.” He had the decency to look annoyed.

  I wanted to fucking explode into a ball of flames, and as soon as she heard that thought, my phoenix raised her head. Focusing all my attention on pushing her back distracted me from Lexar, so that when I took in a deep breath, I wasn’t even that angry at him anymore.

  Until I remembered the kiss and my lips burned. I couldn’t catch a fucking break.

  “Where’s Chelsea?”

  The room I was in was small, with barely anything there except the twin-sized bed, and only one door. I made for it. Lexar followed.

  “Still sleeping,” he said, and sure enough, I found Chelsea right where I’d left her, in the bed in the master bedroom. Except now there were no chains around her, her clothes had been changed to an oversized shirt and boxer shorts, and her skin wasn’t covered in blood.

  The night before hit me in the face like a freight train. A shapeshifter. A were-cheetah.

  Chelsea was no longer human.


  My hand shook as I reached out to touch hers. Her body temperature was normal. I touched her forehead, and she wasn’t burning. Her breathing was perfectly even.

  “Chelsea?” I whispered, afraid to let out more sound.

  “She was awake for a little while about two hours ago. Drank some water and ate some soup,” Lexar informed me.

  Suddenly, I wanted to hug him. So many intense emotional swings were going to be the death of me.

  “And she seemed fine? Was she coherent? Did she say anything?” I touched Chelsea’s cheek, too, but she didn’t respond.

  “Only that she was tired, which is expected,” Lexar said. “She’s going to be fine, Sassy.”

  For the first time since the night before, I actually believed him. Pulling Chelsea’s shirt down her shoulder, I inspected the wound. It had healed. Her skin was still a bit red, but by the end of the day, nobody would be able to tell that she’d nearly lost her arm. I expected that to make me feel a bit better, but it didn’t.

  Pulling my hands into fists, I closed my eyes. “I’m going to find that—”

  The words got stuck in my throat. What was it about the dream I’d had…something glowy and pink and very…specific?

  Wait a minute.

  I turned to Lexar. “What was that place we went to a year ago to search for the vampire? With bars and restaurants. It was in the south, I think.”

  Lexar narrowed his brows. “South Street?”

  “Could be. I could have sworn I saw something. Where is my phone?”

  “Living room.”

  I shot out the door, barely holding onto the sheet wrapped around me. My phone was plugged into a charger, on the floor. I pulled the charger off and opened the last picture: the glowing symbol that Elyssa Masters had showed me.

  And it looked almost exactly like the sign of a bar I’d seen in my dream. Almost exactly—like an A with three lines in the middle instead of one, and with the tip curved to the side.

  “What is it?” Lexar asked, towering over me to look at the screen.

  “That bar had a symbol similar to this. I can’t believe I didn’t remember before.” It was probably because the symbol had been used as an English letter on that sign. I wasn’t sure because I didn’t remember the full name.

  “You dreamed about it?” He sounded very skeptical. Good thing I didn’t give a shit.

  “Yep. And I’m going to check it out.” I looked around the living room, noticing for the first time that something was missing. Or someone. “Feather Girl. Where is she?”

  “She went back to your place to get clothes for you and Chelsea. Are you sure you didn’t dream about this just because you were thinking about it?”

  Damn, Feather Girl was good at this. Was she deliberately trying to win me over so I didn’t kill her, or was this just who she was?

  Also, Lexar could be right. I could have been thinking about that symbol for too long and it showed up in my dreams. But what exactly did I have to lose by going there to find out? I looked behind me at Chelsea’s room.

  “There’s a way to find out, I guess. How long is she going to be like this?”

  “Possibly until tomorrow. She hasn’t had any shifting fits yet, but they’re going to come once she wakes up,” he said reluctantly. That meant we only had the day to go find out if that dream I had had any meaning, or if it was just my new memories spilling onto old ones.

  “I’m going to go check out that sign,” I said with a sigh. Leaving Chelsea alone wasn’t ideal, but as long as that bitch remained free, I couldn’t hope to find the shifter who did this to her. The need for revenge made my skin tingle uncomfortably. When I did find that shifter…let’s just say it was going to be a lot of fun—just not for him.

  “I’m coming with,” Lexar said, and before I could protest, he added, “You’re in no condition to fight. You still haven’t healed properly.”

  He made a point of looking at my arm. I hadn’t even realized that the back of it was raw red from where Chelsea had clawed me. Now that I saw it, I could feel it pulsating, too.

  “I can handle myself just fine, but okay. You’re welcome to tag along.” I hadn’t forgotten the promise I’d made him last night. We would do this together, and then we’d be even.

  Surprised, Lexar narrowed his brows. “Good. The girl can handle Chelsea alone.”

  Oh, I had no doubt about that. But before I could say anything, the door opened, and Feather Girl walked in with a suitcase in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. It seemed she’d showered because she looked brand new somehow. She wore new clothes, too. My clothes. The army green hoodie was a dead giveaway.

  “You’re up,” she said and threw the plastic bag at me. “Couldn’t find a bag.” She left Chelsea’s suitcase by the door and went straight for the fridge to get herself a bottle of water. Fucking hell, she looked so normal, it was freaking me out more by the second.

  “Thanks, Feather Girl. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I took some of your clothes, by the way. I still can’t feel the bitch, though,” she said, leaning against the counter as she sipped her water, a frown on her face.

  “We’re going to check out a lead. Can you stay here with Chelsea for a couple hours?” Yes, I was aware that I was talking to a maggot, but it was Feather Girl. I could be polite to Feather Girl.

  You could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t like staying behind. “What if you find her?”

  “I don’t think we will, but we’re just going to check something out. We can’t leave Chelsea alone.”

  “So have him babysit her,” she said, nodding at Lexar.

  The next second, a lightning strike landed right in the sink behind Feather Girl. She jumped, and her bottle fell on the floor, spilling water everywhere.

  “Goddamn sonovabitch!” she shouted, looking back at the sink. The lightning was gone already. It had been tiny, not really meant to cause harm, just to scare her. And she was definitely scared.

  I resisted a smile and hit a laughing Lexar on the arm. “Leave her alone.”

  “She just needs to learn some manners. Right, Feather Girl?” he said and took a step closer to her. Feather Girl was completely red in the face, like she was about to explode, but she took a step back. The hatred in her eyes spilled all over the living room.

  “Easy there,” she told Lexar. “I can feel the bitch. You can’t. That’s all I meant.”

  “We’ll make do just fine,” Lexar said, still smiling.

  “Fine,” she mumbled, crossing her arms in front of her, when the sleeve of the hoodie raised a bit, like she was having a hard-on on her arm. A feather had just slipped from her skin probably, and she didn’t even notice.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t kill each other while I’m not here,” I warned them and went to the bathroom, impatient to get the hell out of that place already.

  People will argue that having sex—an orgasm, specifically—is the best feeling there is, and I won’t argue with that. But have you ever just been right?

  I mean, come on. Nothing beats that. And as I looked at the sign of the bar and realized I had, in fact, been right, I could prove once more that being right was better than an orgasm.

  Especially when you added the look on Lexar’s face to the equation. Priceless.

  “It’s almost the same,” he said under his breath, probably hating the fact that he was wrong. On the way here, in the car, he’d insisted that we were wasting time chasing dreams—literally.

  “Yep,” I said with a grin. “Told ya.”

  The sign of the bar read Abaddon, which sounded almost made up but probably wasn’t. Whoever had named that bar like that knew all about Bellsy—the language of the Fallen; otherwise, they wouldn’t have designed every letter to resemble the symbols. Every letter was twisted and turned in a way that made it almost impossible to read, even in broad daylight. It was almost two p.m. when we got there, and we couldn’t see shit from the outside. The two large
windows had a black tint, and the wooden door had no glass in it.

  “I read that word somewhere. I think it means doom,” Lexar said as we studied the bar across the cobblestone street. I tried not to look at anything else, afraid it might remind me of that stupid dream again.

  “You read?” I asked, and it was only half a joke. He was always mocking me for reading books.

  “Only real, important information. Not that trash you waste time with.” I think we can all agree here that he’s being a dick.

  “It’s called fiction, and you need a good amount of imagination to enjoy it, so I’m not going to bother explaining it to you. Shall we?”

  “I have no doubt you have a decent amount of imagination. It fills your dreams, too,” he said as he followed. And that was the only reason why I hated the fact that he’d heard me asking him to kiss me—he was going to use it against me.

  But he couldn’t do that if I embraced the fact, could he?

  “Yep. In my imagination the world is a much better place. And real shitty people are actually decent, too. And by real shitty people, I mean you.” Just in case he missed it.

  “Aw, you make me out to be decent in your fantasies?” He put a hand to his chest. “I’m touched, Princess Sassy.”

  He had me there but whatever. “Let’s just get this over, dove. Plenty of time to talk about fantasies.”

  “If you wanna know mine, all you have to do is ask.” I could hear the grin in his voice, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of even looking at him. He’d always been a shameless flirt with me, and maybe I did fall for it once. Good thing I’d gotten a lot wiser since then.

  “Tell that to your current girlfriend,” I mumbled, half of me hoping he wouldn’t hear because he might think I was jealous. I totally was.

  “I would if I had one,” he said, but like hell was I going to believe him. Granted, a year ago, he’d never told me that he didn’t have a girlfriend. We’d never talked about it, but he should have told me. Before I made a fool out of myself.