by H G Lynch
But, as long as her mother had any say about it, she would never get a chance to return to that home.
Thankfully, after installing the inflatable bed and dumping some clean sheets and pillows on the floor, her mother hadn’t come to see her. She was glad. She wasn’t sure she could stand to see her mother right now.
Sighing, Ember reached for the open window, meaning to close it, but just then, something pale flashed in the darkness outside. Ember looked down at the garden, and felt relief burst behind her ribs.
Reid was lying in the snow, his hands tucked behind his head, ankles crossed. His skin was pale as milk in the moonlight, his hair shimmering like gold foil. Even from this distance, she could see the beautiful azure glow of his eyes.
She must’ve made some noise, because he looked up suddenly and saw her. He smiled, a tender, lovely smile, and lifted one hand in a wave. Ember almost wanted to cry at seeing him. She hadn’t been entirely sure until now that he hadn’t really been breaking up with her. When she’d seen his face in the mirror, his expression had been pleading with her to go along with whatever he had planned. She’d been taking it on faith that he hadn’t meant what he’d said.
Grinning, she threw the window wide open and leaned out, feeling the icy air blow gently across her face, lifting stray strands of hair. “You wanna tell me what this is about, now? I was starting to think you were really breaking up with me,” she said quietly, knowing he could hear her.
He sat up, shaking snow out of his hair. “Never. I’d never do that, Firefly, no matter how much you frustrate me. I just saw an opportunity and took it. See, after last night’s break-in, I figured you’d be safer here, at least for tonight. And I’ll be here all night, keeping watch. Ricky and Sherry stayed to set up the wards —after I explained my plan. Sherry was really very upset with me. Don’t worry about the spell to set up the wards, Hiro’s magic will work just as well as yours would. They’ll be perfectly safe.” Reid tilted his head, looking up at her with an expression she didn’t understand. “You know, I meant what I said. You really are too good for me. I know it. It just makes me love you that much more,” he said softly, but Ember could see the urge to add, Even if I sometimes want to strangle you, behind his eyes.
Ridiculously, Ember felt more tears rise to her eyes, and hastily wiped them away.
Reid smiled. “I love you. Always,” he whispered.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whispered back. “I love you, too. Forever.”
Reid lay back in the snow and took up his original position, staring up at the stars.
Struck with a sudden urge, Ember went to get her sketch pad and pencils.
She returned to her seat by the window and saw Reid hadn’t moved. Good. At least, if she couldn’t lie next to him tonight, the next best thing she could think of was to draw him.
For hours, she sketched and shaded until she was happy with the result. She added a splash of blue for his amazing eyes. The bright colour stood out against the white and black and grey of the rest of the drawing.
It was way past midnight by the time she fell asleep at the window, the sketch pad still in her lap, her pencil falling from her fingers.
Unfortunately, the nightmare came back that night.
***
This time, she was dropped into the middle of the nightmare, already running for her life from the swarm of silent crows. Raphael was nowhere to be seen, and up ahead, she could make out the blurry dark forms of the faceless men — And Reid.
She glanced behind her, and saw the crows were gone. Her foot caught on a lifted tree root, and she tumbled to the snowy forest floor, scratching her palms on twigs under the fluffy white covering. The tiny scrapes didn’t heal, having been inflicted by wood.
Scrambling to her feet, Ember hesitated, the faceless men converging on her. She wanted to run, feeling as helpless and terrified as a mouse caught in a trap, but…she couldn’t leave Reid. He was lying in the snow, his clothes in bloody tatters, deep, livid gashes spilling blood onto the churned up snow. Fear and her throbbing heart caught in Ember’s throat, and she wanted to scream. She knew what was coming. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Dead silence, all around her. That terrible, interminable silence!
She stood still, utterly vulnerable without her fire ability, without her fangs, without her mind-limb, as the scene played out just like she remembered it. The strange, glinting knife as it cut her arm, the slash that didn’t heal, the petrifying feeling of being entirely human. And then the part she couldn’t stand to see, not again, not for a third time —because this was the third time she’d had this monstrous nightmare.
Every time, it was as bad as the first time. Every time her heart drummed on her ribs, her breath came in ragged gasps, her leg muscles burned as she ran, and icy terror trickled down her spine, rooting her in place as the faceless man with the knife brought the blade down over Reid, where he lay, bloody and unconscious in the murky snow. She screamed as the knife sank into Reid’s torn chest…
***
She woke up with a jolt, breathing heavily, drenched in a cold sweat. Her pyjamas were tangled around her body, and the darkness was so complete that she immediately fumbled for the lamp on the desk.
The room was flooded with dim yellow light, and Ember took in the room in a rapid, sweeping glance. The covers and pillows were kicked off the inflatable bed in a heap, the window was closed but not locked. Her pencils and sketchpad lay on the sofa across the room, and the sketchpad was open at the drawing of Reid.
Slowly, her heart stopped trying to jump out of her throat, and she slumped back against the wall, pushing her damp hair off her forehead. Then she remembered she’d fallen asleep on the windowsill, with the window wide open. She got to her feet and padded to the window, looked out over the snowy garden.
For a second, breath caught in fear as she saw the spot where Reid had been lying was simply a mess of displaced snow. He wasn’t there. He wouldn’t have left, she knew that. Not if he had a choice. He would’ve—
Her panicked thoughts came to a crashing halt as she spotted a shadow lurking on the garage roof. Moonlight glittered off gold, and she relaxed again, wondering how much more she could take in one night before her heart exploded. Reid was perched on the garage roof, his elbows on his knees, looking thoughtfully up at the sluggish grey clouds moving across the lightening sky. He was perfectly fine, unharmed, but damp from the snow, not looking in the least bit cold. She sighed in relief. But she couldn’t bring herself to go back to sleep. She glanced at the digital clock on the desk, and frowned; it was only a quarter to five. The sun wouldn’t be up for hours yet. If she went for a shower now, she’d wake her parents.
While she was trying to decide what to do, the door to her room cracked open, and she froze, not sure what to expect, but ready to…well, lunge out the window at this stage. She still had that weak, vulnerable feeling that always followed her out of the nightmare.
When her cat peered around the door and padded in, she groaned and dropped her head onto her tucked-up knees, feeling like an idiot. Her cat made a quiet sound halfway between a purr and a meow, and leapt gracefully up next to Ember on the windowsill. Ember smiled weakly as her cat rubbed her head against her leg, purring contently.
“Hello, baby. Are you going to keep me company?” she whispered to the little furry feline. Tigger meowed in response, pushing her nose against Ember’s hand. With a soft giggle, Ember petted her attention-seeking cat, and leaned back against the wall, staring out through the window at the view she had admired many times as a child —her home, dusted in white powder like icing sugar, while the wind shook the frosty trees.
She sat there until the sky turned the colour of slate and the clouds became an impenetrable carpet over the world. Then she hopped in the shower, washing away the remains of last night’s nightmare in the hopes that maybe this time, it wouldn’t come back.
***
It was torture waiting for her parents to leave the house
, pretending to mope in her room…well, she was moping actually. And trying to think of a solution to the problem her mother presented that didn’t involve some more serious compulsion—this time, by Reid, seeing as hers clearly hadn’t held for very long. Ugh. Typical. Just as her world is all going to hell, her mother yanks her back home like a child out late after her curfew.
But eventually, just after noon, her mother called up to her that they were going shopping for food, and her parents left, taking her pain-in-the-ass little brother with them. Thank God!
She was yanking on her hoodie as she ran down the stairs when a knock at the door signalled Reid’s return —he’d had to leave to go get changed and so that her parents didn’t see him. Throwing the door open, she grinned at him, hoping he didn’t notice the deep circles under her eyes. She’d tried to cover them as best she could with some of her mother’s concealer, but it hadn’t worked very well.
“Hey there, Rapunzel. Ready to escape your tower?” Reid bowed, holding out a hand elegantly to her.
Giggling, she whacked his hand aside. “You’re such an idiot, you know that? If this was a tower, there’d be a fire-breathing dragon,” she snorted.
Reid arched a brow. “Ah, this is where your faerytale is different from the others. You are both the princess and the fire-breathing dragon. Although, you make a very cute dragon, I have to say.” He tilted his head to look at her through strands of golden hair, smiling like a little boy.
A sudden flash from her nightmare, of him covered in blood, his hair in stained tangles, made her shiver.
Reid saw it and frowned. “Are you cold? Come here. I’ll warm you up.” He put his arms around her and she leaned into him gladly, hugging him tightly, as if she couldn’t be sure he was really safe until she was holding him in her arms. He felt solid and warm and comforting, helping chase away the nightmare again.
“So, did anything happen last night? Were Sherry and Ricky okay? Did the wards work?” she asked each question in quick succession, letting go of Reid a little unwillingly.
He chuckled. “One question at a time. Nothing interesting happened, so we don’t know if the wards work, but we’re fairly sure they do. The only trouble Sherry and Ricky ran into was deciding which crappy Christmas movie to watch on TV,” he smirked, rolled his eyes, clearly unconcerned.
Reassured, Ember stepped out and closed the door behind her. She didn’t have a spare key for here anymore, so she couldn’t lock it. She frowned for a moment at the door, then shrugged. It would serve her parents right if something got nicked; they shouldn’t have tried to pluck her from Reid and dump her back home like a child. They ought to know by now that wouldn’t work. Still, she had left them a note, telling them she’d gone to stay with a friend. She didn’t specify which friend, knowing her parents would come looking for her, and if she told them she was going back to Ellon, they just follow her and drag her back. Idiots. They didn’t even realise she could do things that would give them nightmares for the rest of their lives; how was she supposed to live with them again anyway? Ugh.
“Let’s hurry up and get out of here before they come back. If they catch you, you’ll be lynched.” Ember grimaced.
Reid nodded, and led her to…the motorcycle. Parked inconspicuously down the street, between a white Mondeo, and a red…well, she didn’t know what kind of car it was, but it was old and rusty and looked like it had occupied that spot for some years.
This time, Ember didn’t argue as she slid onto the back of the motorbike and wrapped her arms around Reid’s waist. Part of the thrill was knowing her parents would kill her if they’d seen her do this. She grinned at the thought.
Reid parked the motorbike in a patch of thick shrubbery and weeds a street away from her grandmother’s house, just on the edge of the woods. He said it would draw too much attention if he parked it in front of the house again. Better to stay discreet. They walked along the street and took the right that would lead them to her grandmother’s house.
The house and the park had just come into clear view when Ember spotted a shadow lurking in the driveway, pressed against the cold, grey wall. She opened her mouth to tell Reid, but he’d already tensed next to her, seeing the threat, too. His eyes were narrowed, focused on the shadow. He squeezed her hand briefly, before disappearing. Her eyes followed the barely-discernible blur of motion that was Reid as he flitted to the driveway with superhuman speed, and grabbed the shadow trying to pick the lock on the side door.
Ember ran over as the shadow person writhed and cursed in Reid’s grasp, being lifted a foot off the ground. Reid yanked the hood back and she saw it was a boy, no older than herself, with bleached blond hair and a tiny gold hoop earring in one ear. He had wide-spaced narrow eyes and a broad chin, and he snapped insults at Reid in a way that reminded Ember of a yappy terrier.
Reid just swung the boy round to look him in the face, and grinned, deliberately showing fangs. “You know, it’s polite to knock first,” he said in a cavalier manner, but Ember saw the dark anger bubbling under the surface of that dangerous smirk.
“Fucking bloodsucking freak! Let me go! Let me go or I’ll stake you!” The boy spat.
No, literally.
He spat at Reid, somehow missed, even at a distance of only a foot. But oh, the attempt was enough to really, really piss Reid off. He exploded in a blur of motion, and faster than Ember could track, the boy was pinned down on the ground, Reid’s hand around his throat. Ember sucked in a breath through her teeth, making a thin whistling noise. It attracted the boy’s attention, and he glowered up at her.
“You! You’re the evil little bitch who burned Amelia’s hair off! I’ll kill you! I don’t care that the rest of them want your blood, I’m going to spill it all over the fucking street for what you did to Amelia!” His narrow, brown-green eyes showed serious hatred, but softened every time he said Amelia’s name.
It took Ember a long moment to remember who Amelia was. Then it clicked. Oh, she thought with mild surprise, the Greek girl. So. This was a personal attempt on Ember’s life, not a Society-organised one. This guy was probably in The Society, but had broken ranks to defend…his girlfriend? Or just a girl he really liked? Didn’t matter.
Ember felt a little, tiny bit bad about burning off the Greek girl’s hair now, even if it had been the first way she had thought of to subdue the girl without killing her. She couldn’t imagine what she’d do if something happened to her own long tresses; she’d probably cry her eyes out and lock herself in a cupboard until it all grew back.
Feeling moved by pity for Amelia, and a certain respect for the boy —any boy who would attempt homicide to defend his crush was worth a little respect — she was about to tell Reid to let the boy go. But, before she could, she saw a flash of wood. A stake, her mind supplied hastily. Reid let out a snarl of pain and rolled away from the boy, who sprang to his feet with amazing speed and grace —making Ember wonder if he was another of The Society’s experiments — and lunged for Ember.
Of course, he was weaponless now, but Ember was focused on why he was weaponless; it was because his only weapon was now protruding from Reid’s chest. A thick, scruffily carved wooden stake was sticking out of the right side of Reid’s chest, and blood was quickly staining his torn grey t-shirt. Reid’s face was contorted in an expression of agony, and his teeth were gritted as he looked down at the stake buried in his flesh.
Ember’s throat constricted on a scream, and a wave of nausea washed over her, making her so dizzy the world spun around her. No. No this can’t happen, she thought with dim desperation, her mind disconnected from her body as the boy tackled her to the ground. Her view of Reid was blocked by the boy’s wide shoulders.
“I’m going to kill you, you little bitch! Where’s your magic fire now, huh!” the boy raged, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her back against the concrete ground, her head cracked against the cement so hard she saw dancing grey dots, obscuring her view of the boy’s furious face.
Oh, no, no, no, sh
e thought frantically, recognising the feeling welling up inside her. She’d felt it three times before, each time as horrible as the last. It was that helpless, weak, human feeling she got in her nightmare. She forgot all about her fire ability and mind-limb and compulsion and enhanced speed and strength. Her mind floated in a state where reality combined with her nightmare, and she couldn’t tell which was which. Somewhere, in the very back of her mind, a little voice told her she’d taken a nasty knock to the head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Reid. Reid was hurt. Badly.
“This is for Amelia!” the boy roared, and that was when Ember saw that she’d been wrong; the boy had more than one weapon. He yanked a knife —one with wood framing the edges of the blade. No runes this time — from his boot, and it flashed as he lifted it over her chest. A shock like the jolt of a taser made her spasm, a flood of horror and terror sweeping over her. The boy started to bring down the knife, something ugly and cruel blazing in his eyes.
Then the world slowed down, and noise filled Ember’s ears. Branches rustling, wind whistling, litter scraping across the street, the boy’s laboured heavy breathing, Reid’s cry of panic, the click of the front door of her grandmother’s house swinging open. Her own heartbeat was loudest, though, pounding in her ears.
She wasn’t in her nightmare. She realised it at the same moment the boy’s knife touched her chest. And just like before, with the old woman and the stake, the brief spark of hot pain transformed into a raging inferno in her blood, and she threw her hands up, hitting the boy square in the chest. A burst of lightning-fire lit up the boy’s face as it mutated in shock and agony…and then time snapped, and he collapsed forward onto Ember, the knife slipping away to clatter on the ground.