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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “I couldn’t stay in there any longer. I felt like I was going to collapse in on myself.”

  “I guess I did leave you at a bad time, but I couldn’t…” Ilyan stuttered to a stop, something I had never known him to do before. I looked at him curiously. His head was leaning back against the house as he turned to look at me, his long hair glistened in the setting sun.

  “I’m sorry,” he said through the night air. “I never should have left you right then.” He paused and exhaled, his hand reaching around me to rub the goosebumps on my arm away.

  “It’s okay, Ilyan.”

  “How are you coping with everything?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed and Ilyan squeezed me against him. “I’m not sure I understand everything, especially everything about my dad. It still doesn’t make much sense.”

  Ilyan rested his head on top of mine, the weight awkward, though also strangely comfortable.

  “It will in a few days, and then if you have any questions, I will answer them. I promise. I will keep you safe and help you through anything.”

  “My Protector.” I spoke it like the term had become revered.

  “Yes.” Ilyan moved me closer into him, giving me a squeeze before he moved away. “Well, your Protector has broken a cardinal rule and brought you back a greasy, meaty, nothing-in-it that’s-good-for-you sandwich for dinner.”

  I jumped away from him as he produced a brown paper bag from a fast food chain I knew all too well. I couldn’t help the smile that broke across my face. There wouldn’t be a dandelion leaf in the bag. I opened it greedily inhaling the smell of grease.

  “Oh, I could kiss you!” I said, holding the bag against my chest.

  “Um, I don’t think that would be wise,” Ilyan responded a bit too quickly, his words morphing into an uncomfortable laugh.

  I looked at him wide eyed. I didn’t know why his quick shut down of my offhand comment hurt, but it did. I sighed and looked back to my cheeseburger, my stomach swimming uncomfortably.

  “Unless you were talking to the cheeseburger, in which case, I will leave you two alone.” Ilyan laughed, my reaction obviously having gone unnoticed. Thank goodness.

  I pulled the bag open and removed the haphazardly wrapped burger, silently thanking Ilyan for keeping it warm. The smell of meat, cheese, and mayonnaise wafted up to me. Right now I didn’t care that my last cheeseburger had been the night I had to run from Ryland. I was happy for what could only be described as comfort food.

  I took a bite and savored it, letting everything roll around in my mouth. I groaned and let my head fall back against the house in appreciation.

  “Fat, burned meat, and dead veggies… and they get that kind of reaction?” Ilyan said, disgusted.

  “Leave me alone, Ilyan, me and my cheeseburger are having a moment.” I took another bite, ignoring the fact that he was staring at me.

  “Do you want some?” I asked, waving the burger in his face. He cringed away from me, his face disgusted.

  “No.”

  I laughed and moved closer, waving the smell toward him.

  “That is far worse than mac and cheese and Vienna sausages.”

  “You know you want some,” I teased, enjoying the fact that I could make him smile.

  “I haven’t eaten meat in five hundred years, Joclyn. I am not about to break that trend now.”

  “Don’t sound so much like an old man, Ilyan.” I smiled broadly at him before taking another bite of the cheeseburger, rolling my eyes back in slightly exaggerated joy.

  Ilyan laughed at me as his phone in my pocket rang. I pulled it out and handed it to him, but he only turned it around to show me Wyn’s name on the caller I.D.

  “Speaker phone,” I said through a full mouth, covering my face politely.

  Ilyan laughed and rolled his eyes before answering the call, hitting speakerphone as he did. He didn’t even get to say hello before the sound from the phone hit our ears.

  Ilyan’s face lost its smile and my cheeseburger lost all flavor as screams, yelling, and explosions filtered from the phone’s speaker.

  “Jos! Jos, pick up the phone!” Wyn’s screech was loud above the screams, panic and tears lining her voice.

  I swallowed deeply, the cheeseburger feeling like lead going down my throat. Ilyan stood in a panic, holding the phone in front of him as he yelled into it.

  “Wynifred! What’s going on?” Ilyan’s voice was commanding and powerful, the waves of it spreading out from him.

  “Ilyan? Oh, thank heavens!” There was a pause and more screams as Wyn panted through the mouthpiece.

  I stood on the roof, my body tense as I leaned into Ilyan, trying to see the phone as if the screen would show me a play by play as to what was going on. Ilyan’s arm wrapped around me, his muscles tense as he held me around my waist. I had the distinct impression he might launch us into the air at any moment.

  “Wynifred? Where is Talon?”

  “They got him, Ilyan. They took him. I think...”

  Another pause and more screams. I swear I could hear Wyn whimper and scream in the background. I clutched Ilyan, my fist wrapping around the fabric of his black polo shirt. When Wyn spoke again, it was clear she wasn’t talking to us; her voice seemed farther away as if she had dropped her phone somewhere.

  “No! Please don’t!” I cringed as she screamed, her voice cracking and breaking. Other voices yelled in the background, yet I couldn’t make anything out. Ilyan’s knuckles went white as he clutched his phone, his arm tightening around me.

  “Father! Please don’t! Don’t let them hurt me!” I listened to her plead with Timothy. Timothy shouldn’t be in Prague.

  Wyn screamed again, her voice breaking and crackling though the phone’s speaker.

  “Ilyan!” Wyn screamed, her voice losing strength. “Run!”

  She hadn’t even gotten the full word out before the line went dead. Ilyan’s knuckles were white and hard against the phone, his jaw clenching below his ice-like eyes.

  “Ilyan?”

  He stared at the phone as the screen flashed white and Ovailia’s name popped up as he placed the call. It rang once, twice, and then a third time. We stayed frozen against each other until she answered, the same screams and explosions sounding in the background.

  “Ilyan?” Her voice was frazzled and scared. I had never heard her sound so raw before. “Ilyan, where are you? Please tell me you are all right.”

  “We are fine, Ovailia. What is going on? Wyn called...”

  “They took her,” Ovailia cut him off, panting as she moved through whatever destruction was tearing through the space. “They took Talon, too. I don’t know where he is, but Timothy dragged Wyn off.”

  “Who’s they?” Ilyan’s voice was hard as he spoke through his tightened jaw.

  “Father. Timothy. There are hundreds of them.” I cringed. I didn’t need her to elaborate; I knew who they were now, Edmund’s hundreds of Trpaslíks.

  “I don’t know how they got in. Our whole city... I don’t know how many are going to make it out.”

  “Get out as many as you can, Ovailia. Meet me in Isola Santa in five days. Can you do that?”

  There was a pause as Ovailia breathed, more explosions filling the air that was already rent with screams. The phone’s speaker vibrated at its exertion.

  “I can try.”

  “Be safe, Ovailia.”

  “And you, Ilyan.”

  The line went dead for the second time and Ilyan’s other arm came to wrap around me. I could feel his heart hammer through his chest, his anger pulsing his magic through his veins, and in turn, through my shoulder. I was beginning to understand what Wyn had said about Ilyan’s temper.

  Wyn.

  “Ilyan?”

  “I know, Jos.” I tensed at the use of my nickname. He had never used it before. “I will keep you safe, I promise.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that?” I jumped at Cail’s voice, a hundred volts of emotion plunging through me. I
clung tighter to Ilyan as I moved my head away from his chest to face the two still figures that stood in the street below us.

  “I told you I could find you,” Cail sneered through the dark. Black-eyed Ryland standing right beside him.

  Eighty-Four

  Wyn

  Now that Jos had finally called it felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

  This must be what mothers feel like, I had seriously been overly worried for her. Not that I needed to be, she had Ilyan after all. Ilyan wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

  I was more scared about Ilyan sacrificing himself for her safety and leaving her stranded somewhere.

  I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Something was clearly off, I mean why else would she have me sing Styx songs? I would have to bug Talon when I saw him. If I saw him, he was way too busy lately. I had curled up in the blankets like a guinea pig, waiting for Talon to get home so I could interrogate him. Instead, sleep took me, the blonde girl and the Henry the Eighth wanna-be occupying my thoughts almost immediately. I watched the girl dance and the man laugh as he chased her.

  He laughed.

  He had never laughed before. He had never talked. I had seen his mouth move every night, but no sound had ever escaped.

  The image jumped and bobbed, the girl flashing from one side of the field to another, the man doing the same before he ended up right beside me.

  “We should go,” he said, his voice conspiratorially low.

  I would have jumped at the sound of his voice had I been in control of my body. I wasn’t in control, though, and the dream me smiled joyfully, while inside, I only felt more and more panic.

  “Go where?” Dream-me said. At least I thought it was me. It came from me and sounded a bit like me, although the voice was different, more mellow, adult, not the electric youthful tones I had now.

  Yet another reason I was starting to doubt these were memories. Maybe I was the girl and I just didn’t remember.

  “Away,” he answered as he turned to look at me, his blue eyes smiling.

  I tried to scream and push him away, but I didn’t have control over my arms. My body didn’t move. I could feel my lips smile, even though I didn’t want them to. I could hear my mind think about his eyes, the eyes of his father, royal blue.

  His father?

  It was my thought. I felt it form inside of me, but it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t true. How could it be? How could I know, how did I know?

  “We can’t get away,” that wretched voice spilled out from me again, even though I still fought to control the body.

  “We can run.” His voice was desperate.

  I felt myself screaming, but the body I was trapped in didn’t follow suit. Instead, the body smiled and touched his face. I screamed until my eyes flashed open, the silence of our dark room filling the air in the wake of my nightmare.

  I wasn’t sure what had woken me. Not the dream, surely? I always slept through those. Then again, the man had never spoken to me before either.

  I lay still, my mind pushing away the images of the dream while still trying to recall pieces of it. Why would I want to recall that? It was a dream, and I was not a Drak. My dreams had no meaning.

  “I understand.” I jumped as the voice came out of the dark. Even though I recognized it as Talon’s right away, I had not expected to hear it or the stress that lined the words behind it.

  “Only a week? Is it that unsafe?”

  I could tell Talon was trying to be quiet. The light from the phone lit up his face, making the deep stress lines look even darker. My heart clunked as his stress leached through our connection and into me.

  So that was what had woken me.

  “What about Ovailia? She has been asking questions—”

  Talon’s voice cut off as Ilyan interrupted him, his head bobbing in agreement with something Ilyan said. I pulled the blankets up around me as I watched him, fighting the temptation to go back to sleep. I wanted more information.

  Only a minute later, he lowered the phone. The light from the screen went out, leaving us alone in the brightening yellow shades of dawn that seeped in through the vent in the ceiling of our cave.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice startling him.

  “I didn’t know you were awake.” Talon moved over to me, his weight indenting the bed enough to make me roll toward him.

  “Yeah, someone’s stress woke me up.”

  “Not mine, surely?” He smiled as he moved to sit next to me, his arms draping over me as if he was locking me in place.

  He looked down at me, and my stomach twisted. I knew what the fire behind his eyes meant, what the deep surge of magic I felt tumble through me was leading up to.

  I smiled back at him, arching my back as I lifted my face to meet his, my lips pressing deeply against his.

  My magic surged violently at the intimate connection, our magic rejoicing as they met their mates and curled around each other.

  Talon lowered himself onto me, his body heavy against mine. I sighed as his hand moved up my arm to cup my face. His tongue dragged against my bottom lip before he left my lips and peppered deep, longing kisses along my jawbone and neck.

  I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips. I couldn’t understand where this was coming from, especially with the stress that had lined his voice only a moment ago, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was enjoying this far too much.

  Talon kissed my neck once more before he stilled against me, his breathing deep and ragged. I closed my eyes and savored the way our contact moved through my body, the way every nerve ending felt illuminated. I could have stayed like that for hours, but I could still feel Talon’s erratic heartbeat.

  “Are you okay?”

  Talon shifted his weight, moving back to sit at the edge of the bed, his hand cupping my face. His dark eyes glistened as more light filtered into our room, the sparks of dawn igniting around us.

  “Talon?”

  “I think I know who the crying voice belongs to.” Talon’s bold statement made my arms and legs feel like lead. I hadn’t expected that.

  I sat up and leaned closer to him, my heart thumping, desperate for more information.

  “Who?” I asked, my voice only a whisper, the sound swallowed by my jumpy nerves. I could feel my magic skitter around inside of my skin, ready for a fight.

  “All day yesterday, only one person asked me about Ilyan’s welfare—several times, each more desperate. It was very unlike her to care—”

  “No!” I gasped. His statement combined with what he had said on the phone a moment ago putting the name in my head. “Not Ovailia! I mean, she’s a jerk, yeah, but she wouldn’t betray him. Not again.”

  “What would stop her from doing it again?”

  I held my tongue. He had a point. Ovailia’s personality was not one that lent itself to loyalty; she would go where the chips lay thickest.

  “Besides, the crying we keep hearing, it is like she is fighting against the bind Ilyan placed over everyone to keep his location secret.”

  I could only stare and nod. He had a point. Ilyan had placed that little touch of magic inside of everyone when he first went on the run, hundreds of years ago. I shouldn’t be surprised it was still around and strong enough to keep Ovailia’s tongue at bay.

  “I’m going to go talk to her,” Talon said, his voice making it sound as if he was walking into a death camp, not simply speaking with Ovailia. I didn’t want to face Ovailia, not in the slightest, but I couldn’t let him face her alone. This confrontation would not be pretty.

  “Let’s go,” I said, trying to ignore the foreboding pulse of my nerves.

  I jumped out of bed and took the two quick steps to my dresser. I didn’t even look as I grabbed random items of clothing in my rush to leave: Styx shirt, red skinny jeans, black converse.

  Talon, now dressed himself, nodded once before moving toward the door, my converses squeaking as I followed him.

  “You go
to her offices,” Talon commanded, pointing down one side of the long hallway at the end of rooms. “And I’ll go to her bedrooms. If you find anything, send me a warning flare through our bond.”

  “No attacking first?” I teased, rising up on my tiptoes to kiss his nose.

  “No attacking first.” He was firm, he knew me so well.

  We turned as one and raced down the hall, my shoes squeaking in the dead-of-night-silence that dripped from the stone walls.

  After a few minutes, I began to hum my favorite songs keeping me comfortable as I went from room to room, growing ever closer to her office.

  I was about halfway there when I noticed it; Talon’s magic was gone. The pull that told me where he was had vanished. It wasn’t gone like when he shielded himself because even then, I could have felt something that would have led me in his general direction; this was just gone.

  I froze; everything inside me turned icy with dread.

  I turned, my heart beating angrily as my feet ran toward him, my mind moving from panicked to focused with each step. I reached Ovailia’s room quickly and found the door ajar, several voices filtering into the hall.

  The voices overlapped and bounced around the smooth stone of the walls. There was more than Talon and Ovailia’s voices; I could hear at least two others in there, both male, their voices deep and scratchy.

  I tiptoed toward the door, flattening my back against the dark stone of the wall as I closed my eyes and expanded my vision into the room. I had to work to press it that far, but what little I could see was enough to make the contents of my stomach turn and my heart thump against the thin bones in my chest.

  My father and Edmund were in there.

  It was not just henchmen that had made it in; they were here. Edmund and Timothy. I knew they wouldn’t travel alone either; they never did. Somewhere, in the once safe halls of Imdalind, an army stood in waiting.

  I clasped my hand over my mouth, trying to keep the panic stuck inside, my breath trapping itself inside of my chest. Everything inside me constricted, my body freezing in place even though my feet were threatening to run in and attack.