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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “What if they find me, Ilyan?”

  “Then they find you. You are strong enough to fight them now. You are strong enough to face him.” He didn’t need to elaborate. I knew who he was talking about.

  “Ilyan, I—”

  “I know you are,” he cut me off, not letting me give voice to my fears. His words were so soft—his eyes so gentle—that against my better judgment I felt my anxiety dissipate, replaced by a heavy confidence I wasn’t used to.

  Ilyan moved his hands from my face to move the hood down from around my head, releasing my hair to fall down my back. “And then we will know if they can track you and how fast.”

  I cringed. Being unshielded made me uncomfortable. This was worse than having people looking at me. I couldn’t hide under a hoodie to escape. I wasn’t even sure what would happen if they did find me, or if I really wanted to know if they could. Having that knowledge didn’t seem like something desirable to me.

  “I need to know so that I can keep you safe, and if they do come, I will be here to protect you.”

  “My Protector?” I said.

  “Yes,” he spoke softly, his hands trailing around my neck to rest on my shoulders, the soft touch of his forefinger grazing my mark. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

  Seventy-Four

  Joclyn

  I sat underneath the twinkling lights that had been draped around the large outdoor patio of the cantina, listening to the fast paced salsa music that filled the air. Couples danced and swirled on the floor in front of me with their bodies meshed together in a seamless blur of color.

  I sat back in my wicker chair, pressing my strawberry lemonade to my lips. The sun was setting behind the mountains that surrounded the city, giving a soft yellow glow to the sky. It touched the facades of the buildings and kissed them into a honey color that glowed from the inside out. I had never seen a city that was so unique and beautiful; I was in love.

  Even though the sun was setting, the temperature hadn’t dropped. My hoodie felt heavy and hot against my skin while a thin layer of sweat had built up on my neck. I was contemplating taking it off, but didn’t want to be the recipient of the told-you-so look from Ilyan, though the thought of dying from heat stroke due to my own stubbornness was just as uncomfortable. I took another sip of lemonade; at least I could keep myself hydrated.

  I shifted my hoodie a bit to help the airflow, but I was still uncomfortable. I glanced to Ilyan hoping he hadn’t seen me fidget. Luckily he was still intently watching the dancers.

  He looked completely out of place in this melee of noise and color. The rugged lines of his face caught in the lights, giving him an ethereal hue almost as if he himself was glowing while he sat in his chair, smiling serenely. It was a stark contrast to the drunken, boisterous group we were surrounded by.

  He turned and caught me staring at him, so I smiled brightly and turned back to the dancers, feeling strangely odd about being caught. I heard him chuckle and he returned to his glass of wine.

  The waitress had looked at him like he had lost it when we ordered and he requested wine instead of the obligatory tequila. Ilyan had only raised an eyebrow, sending the girl to retrieve wine I was sure hadn’t been in their stock before then.

  “Come on, Silnỳ.” Ilyan’s hand jutted into the space in front of me. “Let’s dance.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, sinking into the chair. “I don’t dance.”

  Ilyan bent down slightly, bringing his eyes closer to my eye level. “Don’t dance, or don’t know how?”

  “Both, considering the last time I was on a dance floor didn’t end so well.” My insides scrambled together at the thought of Ryland’s graduation party, my first and only kiss, and then the disastrous failed rescue mission that had followed.

  “Yes, I know. I was there.”

  “Then you know why I don’t want to participate,” I said smugly, hoping he would walk away.

  He didn’t.

  His lips pulled up into a half smile, his eyes twinkling.

  “Would it help if I told you I invented the Salsa?”

  “You did not,” I said, trying to restrain a smile. His eyes lit up as he laughed, his hand still jutting toward me unwavering.

  “Well, no, but I have been dancing it since it was invented. Come, let me show you.” Ilyan wrapped his hand under my arm and pulled me up.

  “I’d rather not.” I stepped away from him, but he mirrored my movements.

  “I won’t hurt you, Joclyn,” he promised. “And if you don’t dance with me, I’ll be forced to take away your win and we will have to stay in the apartment for an additional week.”

  My jaw dropped a bit at that, but Ilyan only smiled more. Although I would normally have guessed it to be an empty threat, I didn’t want to take the chance. I plopped my hand down in his and rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the grin that lit up his face.

  Ilyan led me onto the dance floor, the swirling and moving couples making way for us as we weaved through them until Ilyan had placed us directly in the middle where the cobweb of lights zigzagged over our heads.

  Ilyan took my hand in his and brought our joined hands up to eye level. His other hand brought mine up to his arm before moving to rest lightly on my back. He looked at me intently as the music flowed around us. I could have sworn he was waiting for me to move first, but there was no way that was going to happen. I rolled my eyes at him and went to drop my hands, but he held onto me tighter.

  “Follow the way my feet move,” he began. “Mine move forward. Yours move back. Watch.”

  I looked down, nerves rising as I watched his feet move smoothly across the floor. I tried to follow, but it was harder than I thought it would be. Ilyan made it look easy.

  I missed my longboard. I could control that perfectly, and I was sure Ilyan would fall off after about ten feet. I smiled at the thought and missed a beat. My supporting foot rolled and my other one kicked him in the ankle. I was no good at this. I swore loudly and tried to pull away, but Ilyan increased his grip and pulled me back, crashing my body into his.

  “Don’t think so much, Silnỳ,” he whispered in my ear. “Feel the music and move with the beat.”

  I could feel Ilyan’s hand grow warm against mine, his magic bubbling right under the surface, but it never crossed the barrier of our skin. I groaned and pushed my lacking self-confidence to the side in an attempt to move with him in the right way. Ilyan’s hand increased pressure on my back, pulling me against him as he began to push and pull me in the right direction. While still not perfect, at least I wasn’t stepping into anyone anymore.

  “Now, you move your hips a bit more...”

  “Did you say ‘move your hips’ to me?” I interrupted trying to keep the laugh out of my voice. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It is part of the Salsa, Joclyn, you must try it.” At that, Ilyan began to move his hips in the way that all the other men on the floor were. It looked absolutely ridiculous.

  I laughed loudly at him, but he didn’t stop the movement. He continued stepping and swaying and shaking as he took my giggling, stumbling form along with him. He spun me once, and I over spun, crashing into him. I felt a laugh build in his chest as he continued to move. I had never heard him laugh like this before. This was natural and carefree; Ilyan was having fun. His emotion enraptured me and I began to awkwardly sway my hips along with him. Ilyan’s laughter increased as I moved ineptly around his perfected movements.

  We moved as the band played. Ilyan’s movements were flawless while I stumbled along with him as we both laughed aloud. Ilyan smiled at me with the same confusing look in his eyes before spinning me under his arm. I turned around awkwardly in front of him, my eyes tracking the crowd as I became dizzier and dizzier.

  That was when I noticed that others were watching. For one fleeting moment I hadn’t noticed, I hadn’t cared. Not until I saw a beautiful Hispanic woman looking at me. She was laughing, possibly finding joy in the happiness that Ilyan and I shared, but ev
en her notice cut into me. I stopped spinning and sunk into myself. Moving instinctively, Ilyan’s arms came up to wrap around me, pulling me into his chest. I wished he wouldn’t, right now I wanted to run from the dance floor. Coming out here had been a mistake.

  “Others will notice you, Joclyn,” Ilyan whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. “But you cannot let it change who you are deep inside. Have fun for you, not for the people around you.”

  He spun me away from him, my eyes scanning the crowd. Everyone was laughing, joking, and playing; all of them were happy, and none of them were looking at me.

  Ilyan came up behind me, his arm wrapping around my waist as he returned me to the dance with my back against his chest.

  “See, no one else is even noticing you. No one else matters. Only you. Only me. Only the Salsa!” I could hear his smile as he pushed me away from him causing me to spin around to face him again. His feet continued to move and his hips to sway as I poorly mimicked his movements.

  I couldn’t say I got better, but I did actually begin to enjoy myself again. Before long Ilyan was laughing just as loud as I was while we danced our way through the endless Salsa music.

  Ilyan had pulled me out of another turn when his face fell. He never missed a beat, but his eyes had turned from joyous to serious far faster than I had thought possible.

  “Well, that was fast,” he said, his voice hard.

  “What was fast?” I asked, trying to follow his line of sight, but he had returned to staring back at me.

  “Go for a walk with me?” he asked.

  “Umm... okay.”

  Ilyan had barely waited for a response before winding his fingers through mine and taking me with him as he turned and began to swerve through the crowded cantina. We passed by our table and Ilyan held out his hand, letting his drink fly into his open palm. He drained the glass before lowering it to another table on our way out.

  “Ilyan?” I whispered, sure I wasn’t going to get a response.

  Ilyan was about to plow us into a large group of people when my body grew warm with his magic. It didn’t flood me as fast as it had when my magic was killing me, but the speed was still startling. Something was obviously wrong.

  The warmth filled me just as a large breeze came and lifted us off of the ground. Ilyan held onto my hand tightly as he flew us out of the crowded restaurant and onto the golden tin roof of the building. I looked down at the confused people below who all seemed to be commenting on the wind, but no one had noticed our odd departure.

  “Ilyan, what—” Ilyan clapped his hand over my mouth as he held me still, his eyes focused on the lively party below us. My body felt stifled as his magic pulsed stronger within me before turning into a low, simmering heat that siphoned away to form a shield around me again.

  “Two hours, Joclyn. That’s all it took for them to track your magic.” His face lit up in a wicked grin that I knew a bit too well, and my heart beat erratically. I looked down to the dance floor as a short man with broad shoulders and dark red hair walked into the space followed by a hulking mass in black leather. Cail and what I could easily recognize as Edmund had found me. Their movements were slow and focused. Their static figures standing out in the torrent of activity.

  “He’s come himself, I see,” Ilyan smiled with a wicked joy. “Well, I suppose he needs a challenge every once in a while.”

  Only one person could track my magic. I swung my head toward Ilyan, my eyes wide. Finally he removed his hand from over my mouth.

  “Is he here?” I whispered. Ilyan’s fingers moved up to touch my mark, his touch light on my neck.

  “Yes, but don’t go looking for him.” My heart fell at his words.

  “I need you to stay here. If anyone approaches you, fly right to me. Don’t hesitate. Don’t try to fight them.”

  He looked away from me, his eyes scanning the party below us.

  “I can fight, Ilyan,” I said the words confidently, even if I wasn’t so sure. I had been training in an apartment against someone who wouldn’t hurt me. I had pushed myself to be ready for this day. But now that it was here, I was scared.

  One look at Edmund scanning the crowd for me, however, and all of that fear faded away.

  He had hurt Ryland. He would pay.

  “Not well enough, Silnỳ. Not well enough to face Edmund, not yet.” He turned toward me and wrapped his hands around my forearms. “Not. Yet.”

  “But you said earlier...” I began, remembering the softness of his voice, the strength of his earlier confidence in me. I felt like he was suddenly taking it all back. I didn’t disagree with him, yet the seemingly abrupt change of his mind still stung.

  “I know, I—”

  “I can do this, Ilyan! I am not a child!” I pulled my arms away from his touch and tried to move away from him. I regretted it instantly. The simmering heat of the shield left, and within moments, Cail’s face turned up to the roof of the cantina where Ilyan and I stood.

  Ilyan grabbed my hand and took off into the air, dragging me behind him. His magic swelled inside me as he shielded me again, flying us down the street to land near a large white statue that adorned the façade of the main cathedral.

  “I’m not treating you like a child, Joclyn,” he hissed icily.

  “Then why won’t you let me fight, Ilyan?” I wasn’t sure why I was fighting this. I didn’t even think I was ready to face Ryland. I certainly didn’t know if I would be able to fight him.

  “I need to protect you, Joclyn. I have to keep you safe and this is the only way I can do that.”

  “By hiding me?” Ilyan stopped me with one look, the desperation in his eyes deepening the blue hue.

  “Yes, until you are strong enough to fight.”

  “I am—”

  “And now is not the time to test that.”

  I didn’t respond. I knew Ilyan was right. I couldn’t seek Ryland out. He would kill me. Even though I wanted to believe I was ready to fight, I was not sure I could, or if I was strong enough.

  “Stay here. Don’t do anything stupid, Silnỳ.”

  “Why would I do anything...?”

  “Please.” Ilyan removed his hands and waved both over me once like he was framing my body. The heat of the shield stayed with me even without his contact. I stared at him wide eyed.

  “I thought you had to be touching me to shield me.”

  “This shield is unmovable, Joclyn. If you move even a step out of the way, it will shatter. It is as strong as the one I placed around the apartment, but it is fickle. I can control it when I am away from you, but it is around you, not inside you. It cannot move like you can.” His eyes were a combination of fear and excitement as he kept glancing behind him, an eagerness to fight battling with his need to stay with me.

  “So, if Ryland finds me?”

  “It should hold, but if you move…”

  “Then it’s gone,” I finished for him, my heart beating wildly.

  “And you fly right to me.”

  I nodded once in understanding and Ilyan took a step away from me before moving back, his internal conflict still raging.

  “Stay,” he commanded me like a dog and I fumed a bit, but pushed it away to nod at him.

  Ilyan looked at me one last time, his fingers flicking as though he was going to reach out to me. There was pain in his eyes I didn’t understand, but before I could ask he flew away, directly toward his father who stood in the middle of the busy street.

  Seventy-Five

  Joclyn

  Ilyan shot through the air like a bullet to land gracefully a few steps away from Cail, who stood protectively around Edmund in the middle of the main road.

  As the three faced each other in anticipation, I could feel the pressure of the situation even from a distance. While I watched, their words flowed up to me much louder than I would have expected.

  “Hello, son,” Edmund crooned, and I cringed at how happy and normal he sounded. The impending battle didn’t seem to bother him at a
ll.

  “Father.” Ilyan’s voice was tense and I could tell he was gauging what he should do.

  Cail silently paced in front of Edmund, his body tense and ready as his eyes moved from Ilyan to the street around him as he searched for me. I instinctively held my breath and controlled my jitters.

  “I hear you stole something that belongs to your brother,” Edmund continued as if Ilyan’s tense voice had been nothing other than a casual greeting.

  “I stole nothing. I am simply holding it for safe keeping.” Ilyan ground his foot into the road, and for one ridiculous moment, I was reminded of an old-time gun fight. Except, you know, with magic instead of bullets.

  This was going to be bad.

  I was suddenly wondering if we should have just run away.

  “Hmmm, that is not what I hear,” I saw Ilyan flinch a bit at Edmund’s words, his back tensing. “Stop that, Cail, you’re going to wear me out.”

  Edmund gave one casual swipe of his hand and Cail stopped pacing immediately. Moving himself to stand in front of Edmund, he never let his dark eyes leave Ilyan.

  “Yes, Master.”

  This time I flinched.

  At the Rugby game, and even in the ballroom of the mansion, I had never seen Cail respond that way to Edmund. It might have been that I hadn’t been paying close enough attention, but he had never struck me as the subservient type. I had only seen Cail act that way around Edmund in my dreams, and the fact that my subconscious rendering of him could have been that precise made me uncomfortable.

  “Don’t move,” I said to myself, as if my own voice would be able to help me keep still.

  “Well, job well done I’d say. She’s safe. You’re safe. Everyone’s happy, and we are here to collect.” Even though his words were still upbeat, Edmund’s voice had begun to darken.

  “I don’t think so,” Ilyan said just as monotonously, as if Edmund’s words had been some great joke. The sound reverberated up to me, making the whole street sound as if it was haunted.