Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery

by Ethington, Rebecca

  I looked away from him and picked up my pace, eager to get into the school. I had forgotten about him after everything else that had happened last night; however, seeing him there again brought all that anxiety back. I felt jumpy and nervous as I walked into my first class, French.

  I looked over the room before sitting down, worried that the blonde man had followed me here. My irritation shivered up my spine, making me wonder if my paranoia level was becoming unhealthy. I settled in before Madame Armel could begin her instructions. I was only in this class for graduation credit, meaning the class was filled with a bunch of freshmen and sophomores, so I tended to sit at the back and blend in more than usual.

  Madame Armel began her lesson on conjugation, while I opened my book in a futile attempt to follow along. My thoughts kept jumping from checking to see if the blonde man was around, to worrying about what I was going to say to Wyn when I saw her, and ultimately, to thinking about Ryland. My mind jumped from lip-locked fantasies that made my heart swim and pound, to the thought of his arms wrapped around mine in an intimate embrace, sending a pleasurable shiver up my spine. I couldn’t think that way, though. I had promised myself that we would just be friends and that I would leave him alone. I was left with a hollow, empty feeling as I shooed the fantasies away.

  The bell rang much sooner than I expected and I rushed out of class, my mind still overtaken by thoughts, worries and fantasies that didn’t want to leave me alone.

  Wyn sat down next to me, cafeteria tray and plastic bangles clanging. She didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t blame her; I didn’t know what to say either. How could I start a conversation after what had happened last night?

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, much softer than I had wanted to.

  “I’m sorry, too,” she responded, her bright voice sounding off against my strained whisper. “If I had known it was such a big deal, I wouldn’t have brought it up.” She paused and bit her lip, as if contemplating whether or not to say something else. I looked at her in expectation, but she had decided against it, looking back down to her food.

  I was glad we had moved beyond it, but the awkwardness still wasn’t over. I tried to think of something witty to say that would strike up a bright conversation, but nothing came to mind that I wanted to share. Every thought in my mind was an overdramatic problem or involved too much kissing. Better to keep them all to myself.

  I turned toward her just as the bell rang, surprised to see her already looking at me. Her dark eyes stared into me, pinning me in place with a look of mingled excitement and fear. She looked like she was expecting something from me. I opened my mouth to answer her unasked question, but closed it again, realizing I didn’t know what she was going to say.

  “I better get going to English,” Wyn said without looking away from me.

  I watched her as she turned to leave, ratty shoulder bag draped across her back. I wanted to run after her, to explain why everything upset me and all about Ryland, and my dad, and everything. I just couldn’t make myself move.

  Wyn took a step to the side, leaving a break in the small group of students exiting the cafeteria. That small movement gave me a clear view of the door, and the blonde man standing next to it.

  I looked away from Wyn’s retreating back to meet the stare of bright, blue eyes. My stomach clenched in fear as his gaze bored into mine in a glance so intense, I felt the blood drain from my face. My frantic and panicked heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

  There was no question now. He was following me.

  In the back of my mind, I began to rolodex through every possible reason for being stalked. Everything from child predator to long lost relative went through my mind in rapid succession. All the while, his eyes never left me; they kept me locked in place with their wide, eager expectation.

  The man leaned forward, his back arching him toward me. A shiver wound its way up my spine, causing me to inhale for breath. At my sudden intake, a coy, little half smile spread across his face as if he enjoyed it. My stomach clenched in even further terror, my mind casting away any thoughts of what that smile could mean. I didn’t want to know. He continued to stare into me before releasing me as he turned to walk out of the cafeteria.

  I didn’t dare move, even though class had already started. I was left alone with the janitorial staff and the smell of ammonia. I continued to stare at the vacant door as the edge of fear ebbed away and my spine started to relax. I shouldn’t be so worked up over one random man staring at me, even though he had been following me. It could be anything, right?

  I shook my head in frustration as I gathered my belongings and headed out of the school. I knew I would get in trouble for skipping classes, but right then, I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to risk being seen by either Wyn or the blonde man.

  Turning around right outside the door, I placed my fingers in the grooves of the deep red brick that covered the school. I lifted myself up, worn sneakers gripping the brick as I began to scale my way toward the roof. My backpack bounced against my back as I climbed. With so little to cling onto, I was surprised I could do this at all, but something about heights and climbing had always drawn me in.

  I smiled as the wind pulled my hair out of my hoodie and snaked it around my face. The feeling of the warm air made my skin tingle. With one more pull, I reached the top and sat on the edge of the building, my legs dangling over the side.

  I sat, just looking at the tops of the houses and the small field where the freshmen were playing soccer. Before long, the fear of being stalked and the anger at the tension between Wyn and me came back and I sank down a bit.

  I wanted someone to talk to. I needed to figure out what was going on, what I was supposed to do. I needed Ry. I needed his strong arms around me and his soothing voice telling me it was okay. I knew I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t indulge myself.

  I reached into the pocket where I kept my phone, surprised when my fingertips brushed instead against something small and round.

  I pulled it out, expecting to find a wrapper, but instead found the small purple marble. It rolled around my palm as the wind tugged at it. Watching it shine against the flickers of light clicked something together in my brain. The man, the bead, my dad.

  My dad had referred me to a cult, and the cult had obviously found me.

  Fifteen

  Ryland

  "Come on, Ryland! I know you can do better. Don't make me tell your father."

  He was taunting me. But, Cail was always taunting me.

  His dark laugh echoed over the stone walls of the large underground training hall. The boom rattled the rack of fighting staffs and ancient stones that lined the walls. I lifted my head, the guy was grinning, wiping my blood from his knuckles onto the dark denim of his jeans. I spit the rest of the blood in my mouth to the ground before his feet and grinned at him, blood coated teeth sparking in warning.

  “Tell my father what? That you cheated…”

  Cail just laughed louder, those impossibly dark eyes of his sparking dangerously.

  "Come now, Ryland, we both know you are holding back." Cail stepped forward, grabbing two of the broadswords off the wall and throwing me one. I grimaced but couldn't say anything. He had clearly won in fist fighting, the next weapon was his choice. "It’s not like I can actually do anything to hurt that pretty little face of yours. That vile peasant girl you keep sneaking to your room will only swoon over a few bruises, anyway."

  His dark eyes narrowed as he added that last part and I froze, back straightening as I took the sword and swung it once, the heavy steel cutting through the air.

  "I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.” I forced a laugh even though I knew nothing about this was funny.

  His smile didn’t make me feel any better about the situation.

  The guy was a brutal masochist. He tried very hard to make me the same. Just another malicious beast. Like his father, Timothy. Like my father, Edmund.


  "You sure about that?" Cail flipped his sword before gripping it with both hands and pointing it directly at me. Broadswords. It was such an archaic way of fighting; it was no wonder that he preferred it.

  “I’m sure.”

  He just shrugged. “Not like I care, anyway. Do what you want with the girl. I have bigger plans for you. Just a few months at that pathetic academy, Ryland, and then you are all mine.”

  I avoided the shiver that wound up my spine. He didn’t need to remind me. I dreaded it. I was consumed with plans to leave.

  I just needed to figure out how. I needed more information.

  “Is that why you covered for me after I disappeared in the aftermath of the Rugby match?” I circled him, our eyes locked as I watched his breathing, his footing, waiting for him to strike.

  “Silly child, always thinking everything is about you…” He struck then; his motions quick as I countered. I barely got my broadsword up in time. The metal clacked together loudly, metal grinding against metal in screech.

  “Then why cover for me?”

  “You really couldn’t feel it? You are weaker than I thought.” Cail leaned in, his nose an inch from the cross of the swords before he pushed against it and sent me stumbling back.

  Bastard! I shouldn’t have fallen for that, but he had distracted me. Again.

  You think I would be used to it by now, but my mind was preoccupied. I had been waiting days to ask why he hadn’t outed me. I had gotten Joclyn away from my Father and Cail as quickly as I could, I expected him to be raging when I had returned. I had avoided him all day, after all. But he didn’t seem to care.

  If anything, he seemed absolutely giddy.

  “I am not weak, as you are aware.” I said with a grunt, quick stepping and swinging my sword high. Cail was too quick for me and blocked it easily.

  “Am I? You haven’t won a match tonight…”

  I rose to Cail’s prod, moving fast as I stepped left and right, swinging the heavy sword quicker than even the coils of my muscles should be able to handle.

  Cail said nothing, he just moved to match me, grunts and taunts filtering through the air as we danced along with the clang of the metal. I faked a swing and sped to the right, placing the cold edge of the sword against his neck.

  “Proud of yourself?” Cail hissed through gritted teeth, but any further taunt was cut short by a slow clapping and a low voice that set my spine into attention.

  “Good, son, good. I see you are improving.” Edmund stepped into the large training hall, Timothy on his heels, the two men watching me. Neither gave any mind to Cail who bowed before grabbing my sword and putting them both away.

  “Thank you, Father.” I straightened my back, my chin high as I met his gaze, fully aware that the swollen jaw and bloodied nose were on display.

  “Although not as much as I would have hoped.” His fingers were ice against my chin as he inspected the damage from Cail’s handiwork.

  “That was easy,” Cail yelled from the other side of the hall. “He’s weak.”

  My father stepped closer, his fingers hard against my chin as little sparks of heat and pain drifted between us.

  “He shouldn’t be. We’ve put too much work into this one.” Timothy’s voice was filled with the same level of hatred as his sons. “I would hate to have to dispose of another…”

  “You won’t,” I hissed, stepping back from the pain of my father’s fingers, narrowing my eyes at him.

  There was nothing more frightening than the pure vile that seeped from my father’s eyes, but I had faced it enough.

  “I was just distracted.” At once I knew I had said the wrong thing; Cail laughed, Timothy made a sound that was near a choke, and my father stepped closer, the blue of his eyes darkening into a chill of ice.

  Ice that was running over my skin.

  I held my ground, chin high.

  “Distracted? That girl…” The two words were a snarl, his focus drifting to Cail.

  “No,” I cut him off before he could say anything more. “I was distracted by what you had asked me to hunt. Cail said something was at my Rugby match...”

  He hadn’t, but I had seen his reaction in the stands, and I needed to get the focus off Joclyn before my father made any more nefarious threats.

  “Did he?” My father snarled toward Cail, the man clutching his heart and he wheezed out a ‘no’ before his focus snapped back to me. “Well, I’m sure you are aware that we found what we sought. No thanks to you. Cail secured my prize for me, all on his own.”

  “He… but… how?” The words stuttered out and all the men laughed, my one joy was bubbling up, but not for why they thought.

  If they had found it then that meant it wasn’t the necklace. Something else had tripped my father’s men. If the necklace was safe, then Joclyn was safe, and my way out of here was clear.

  “How did Cail find him, or how did you fail me? The answer to either leads to the same.” Edmund held out his hand, his palm up as the air heated and pulsed, waiting for me to place my hand against his.

  Pain.

  All this would lead to was pain.

  Before either of us could move, the door to the hall swung open and one of the men from my father’s guard burst in.

  “She’s here!” He gasped and we all turned. “My Lord, you asked me to tell you when she is here, and she’s here… and even better… he’s awake.”

  All of the anger bled from my father’s face, Cail laughing as he ripped out of the room. He clearly knew what they were talking about, I was just left standing in confusion as Timothy and Cail left, leaving only my father and myself in the center of the massive training hall, his finger pointed in my face.

  “I expect better, Ryland. I have not bred you, and trained you, for you to fail me. You already defied me last spring, and I will not allow that to pass again. Consider this your last pass. Now, bow to your father, Ryland.”

  His eyes were a dark blue, his lips turned into a sneer as I felt a warmth spread over my spine. It seeped into my bones, forcing them to curl as I bowed. My eyes never left his.

  “What do you say, Ryland?” The heat was spreading, the pain in my bones growing as though he was cracking them.

  “Yes, my King. Thank you, my King.” The words ground out through the clamp in my jaw, but they still seemed to appease him.

  “Good boy.” He chastised me as he patted my cheek. Once, twice, before his fingers curled into a ball and slammed against my jaw. Sending me to the ground. “Never forget that there are other ways I can hurt you. Other people.”

  I didn’t call out. I made no noise as I lay on the ground, blood dripping from my mouth. My father stepped forward slowly, standing over me as the same power twisted up my spine again, forcing me up.

  Forcing me to stare at him.

  My blood boiled, my power begging to retaliate, but I held it at bay, begging it to be still.

  Not to rise.

  Not to make this worse.

  “This is your last chance, Ryland. Fail me again, and I will have no further use of you.”

  He laughed once as he sent me back to the ground, my body screaming as I knelt on the cold stone floor, watching him leave, the door slamming behind him.

  Sixteen

  Ryland

  “She’s still not here, Ryland.”

  I already knew that of course. She was on the west side of town at a new friend's house, as her mom had warned me about yesterday.

  As I had felt all day. She was happy.

  I should be glad for her, I wasn’t going to be here very much longer anyway. If she was going to be safe, she needed to move on with her life.

  I was just being selfish, wanting as much of her to myself as I could possibly get before I was gone.

  “I know,” I mumbled, sliding onto the bar stool that had been mine and mine alone for the last few days. “I’m just worried about her. Ever since…” I paused, unsure if Joclyn had talked to her mom about the real reason for her illness.
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br />   Angela lifted an eyebrow as she passed me both coffee and a danish, her motions slow as she watched me. I knew that look well enough, the contemplation of conversation.

  “You might as well spit it out, Mrs. D,” I mumbled, before taking a sip of my coffee.

  “I should say the same for you. Clearly you know something I don’t.”

  “Secrets, Mrs. D. Your daughter's secrets, which I will not be divulging. Role of the best friend.” I lifted my coffee mug to her in salute before taking a sip.

  “I know I should be glad for that,” she mumbled as she went back to work, spreading some sauce over some raw piece of meat. “But now you have me worried that I’ve missed something big.”

  “Nothing big, Jos is fine. Don’t worry, I would tell you if it was something huge. I’ll always protect her.” I took a bite of the danish and Angela froze, sauce still dripping from her brush as she turned to face me.

  “You really care for her, don’t you?”

  “She’s my best friend. She’s one of the best things in my life. I don’t want to lose that.” I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I just stared at the goo dripping from her brush, fully aware that she was tearing up.

  Dang it. Now my eyes were burning, the truth of my words were stabbing me as deep as they were her. Time for a change of subject.

  “That meat juice is getting all over.” I nodded to the still dripping sauce and Angela jumped back to attention.

  “Thank you, Ryland,” she whispered. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about the sauce or what I had said, so I nodded and mumbled some kind of acknowledgement, stuffing my mouth full of Danish to cover it up.

  “And it’s not meat juice.”