by Autumn Dawn
His gaze glittered at Wiley. “There is a limit to what I will forgive those who try to deceive me.”
“You said she could go home.”
His face hardened. “Keilor.”
Keilor gently moved the resisting Wiley aside and continued toward the door, leaving Jayems to continue his battle in private.
“You be nice to her!” Wiley shouted after Keilor as they entered the gray stone hall.
One Night to Burn
by
Autumn Dawn
PUBLISHED BY:
Autumn Dawn
One Night to Burn
Copyright © 2012 by Autumn Dawn
www.autumndawnbooks.com
One Night to Burn
When the stylists told her they would make her hot, Kira didn’t believe they meant literally. She never dreamed that at the end of the free makeover, a stranger would toss the torch that would burn away her former self. To her horror, she would find more changed than her hair color. For Kira, life would never be the same.
Chapter 1
It all started with a walk. She flew into Maui the night before, impulsively booking a flight from Alaska. It was January in Fairbanks, sixty degrees below zero with four hours of daylight…when it wasn’t overcast. With clouds covering the sun and the thick curtain of ice fog caused by car and heating oil exhaust, they saw precious little of the tiny yellow disk. Driven from house to car to building by the extreme cold, she was going crazy with cabin fever. Kira worked as a corrections officer at the jail and her boss had recommended a few days of tropical sun.
It had been an inspired choice. Simply getting off the plane in Kahului and stepping into warm, humid air had been a luxury. She gratefully shed her boots and stowed her parka in her luggage. She didn’t even care that traffic was horrendous on the way to Kaanapali. She had AC and GPS and an amazing sunset gilding the ocean. She loved watching the high arc of its decent, as opposed to the anemic crawl across the horizon the arctic sun performed in January.
Jet lag mugged her by the time she reached her hotel, the King Something-Unpronounceable. She was downing water like a drunk on a binge as she tried to acclimate to the drastic weather change, so she was delighted to discover a vat of iced drinking water in the lobby. Pineapple slices floated in it, rind and all, an exotic drink for someone raised in the frozen north. It was delicious, and she had several glasses while the clerk finalized the paperwork. Afterward a valet ferried her and her lone piece of luggage in his golf cart to her cottage on the beach. The cottage had a cracked sink and a rigid pillow that was not kind to her travel stiffened neck, but it was clean and quiet. She brushed her teeth and called it a night, ready for adventure in the morning.
The ocean didn’t disappoint. She’d never been to the beach, and Maui surpassed her expectations. The dry sand was soft and sugary, but became darker and firmer as she passed the water line. The ocean was delightfully warm and rushed up with a hiss, only to lap playfully at her toes. It foamed like warm beer, carrying grains of sand in rolling waves. As the water receded it washed away the sand beneath her feet, making it hard to stand. Walking sideways was hard, for the water wanted to pull her down, too.
She smiled, feeling like a kid. Hawaii really was fabulous.
Not used to the strong sun, she quickly developed a headache. Fortunately it wasn’t coupled with a burn, since she’d slathered her body with industrial strength sunscreen to protect her pale skin. To soothe the headache, she popped a couple of ibuprofen and walked to the Sweet Shop for some decadent coconut ice cream.
Feeling better, she hopped in her jeep and drove the mile and a half to the tiny tourist town. The whole place was only a couple of blocks long, and lined with restaurants and shops selling chocolate covered macadamia nuts, Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses. Sadly, she had no use for a sundress back home, so she window shopped and enjoyed the outdoors without being mummified in layers of wool and down.
That’s when the makeover truck found her.
Kira was sucking on pineapple slush and admiring a display of Tahitian pearls when a tall Polynesian woman approached her with a smile. Her white flowered, red sundress was neatly pressed, the dye still bright. “Aloha!” the woman said with a smile, placing her hand on Kira’s arm in a friendly way. Her candlenut bracelet clacked. “Are you a visitor here?”
Kira smiled back. “Yes. I flew in from Alaska last night.” That caused the usual stir, and the woman peppered her with questions. After Kira had warmed to her, she finally said, “Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Destiny. My friends and I are student beauticians. We’re traveling around in our truck, The Beauty Shop, giving free makeovers today. Would you mind if we stole you for a little while? I promise it will be the experience of a lifetime.”
Kira looked curiously at the oversized van parked at the curb. Sure enough, it was painted with an enticing mural of a “before and after” picture of a rough looking woman. The after picture seemed miraculous. She needed help like that. “Hm. You said it’s free?”
“Absolutely,” Destiny said, leading her to the van. “I’m so excited! You’re our first client today. I can’t wait to get started.”
Kira climbed in the back of the truck and settled into a salon chair. The interior was a miniature beauty parlor, complete with shampoo bowls and a product lineup on the back wall. The AC felt pleasant on her heated skin. “This is pretty cool,” she said admiringly.
“Just wait. We’re going to blow your mind,” Destiny promised. “This is Providence,” she said, waving her hand at the statuesque black woman who seemed to be sizing her up. She wore a knee length white skirt with tiny pleats and golden sandals that laced up her calves. Her top was an artfully tied white scarf that left one shoulder bare. Heavy linked gold disks circled her neck and wrists. A gold cord looped around her hair, holding it back from her strong face. “She’s helping today, and Fortune is driving.” Fortune leaned around the back of the driver’s seat and waved. She might've been Spanish, with velvety cocoa skin and long, kinky reddish hair.
What an odd bunch. “Are you sisters? I mean, your names….”
Providence smiled. “We get that a lot. Now then, let me see your hair. Hm, yes.” She took a long brown lock and examined the color and texture. “Well, you have no sun damage. It feels healthy.”
Kira grinned. Sun damage wasn’t a hazard in Alaska. “Thanks.”
Providence rummaged in a box and removed a crystal vial. Although it looked like it contained perfume, the liquid was thick and carnelian. The crystal winked, too brightly for the available light. She smiled at Kira’s curious inspection. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
Destiny saw it and pouted. “But I wanted to do her hair and nails first. Why shouldn’t we have some fun?”
“Work before play,” Providence said firmly. “We’re on a schedule.” Destiny sighed, but didn’t interfere as Providence unstopped the bottle and offered it to Kira. “What do you think of this perfume?”
Kira sniffed cautiously, hoping it wouldn’t overwhelm her sensitive nose. A heavy, almost earthy, floral scent seized her senses. Dizziness assailed her as the vapor curled into her lungs. Lethargy set in too quickly for alarm. Unable to gather her thoughts, her hand dropped limply to her lap.
Providence plucked the vial from Kira’s lax fingers and stopped it. She glanced casually toward the front of the truck. “Fortune, you can drive now.”
Kira felt the truck start, but it seemed unimportant. She didn't know where they were going, but it was impossible to worry. Her blood flowed like honey in her veins, warm and rich. She should be concerned, but that was as far as the thought went. She was a bystander now, an observer in her own body.
They pierced her nose. Kira didn’t protest as they inserted the gold ring with a tiny winking ruby into her left nostril. That would go over well with her boss, she thought distantly. She thought the heavy cuff they slid over her left wrist was gold, but it shrank to match her narrow wrist, glittering with what looked like dia
monds and rubies.
“Your wedding jewelry,” Destiny said with a smile. Her teeth were blindingly white. “He made it himself.”
Kira watched her with dull eyes as fear threaded through her mind. They were giving her to a man? Was this some kind of white slavery ring? What had she done? She knew better than to climb into strange vehicles.
She was an absurd choice for a harem slave. Her long hair was brown and fine, mostly pulled into a French braid. It was hardly the kind of thing that caught men’s eyes. Her rounded face had a Victorian prettiness a hundred years out of fashion. She was average: average height, average figure. And still, it was happening.
“How long do you think it will take him to find her?”
Providence pursed her lips in thought. Her purple-red lipstick glinted disconcertingly, leaving spots before Kira’s eyes. It made her nauseous, and she had to look aside.
Unconcerned, Providence mused, “He’s stubborn. Not while the fire burns, I think. If nothing else, she’ll be drawn to him.”
Destiny sent Kira a sympathetic look. “Poor thing. She’ll have a time of it, charming him. He’s very angry.”
“They were locked away a long time.” Providence seemed sorry for that.
“They deserved it. Killing and destroying like that…they needed to learn self-control.” Destiny retorted.
Kira’s dilated eyes widened. Killing? They were talking about multiple men now. She conjured a gang of ex-cons, all focused on her. If she could have spoken, she would have begged.
“We’re scaring her,” Destiny said regretfully. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Believe me, he’ll be grateful we found you…eventually.”
Kira managed a tiny shake of her head, but they ignored her distress. The topic moved to more general topics, though. It seemed they didn’t want to upset her further.
If that were possible. Only the drug kept her in her seat. To escape, she’d happily leap into traffic.
Whatever they planned, it wouldn’t be anything good. She had to get out!
The drug kept her as still as iron chains as the miles went by. The dose was just beginning to wear off when the truck pulled onto a gravel road and stopped.
“We’re here!” Destiny said cheerfully and jumped out. “I’ll start the bonfire. You bring her out.”
Providence shook her head. Her smile was ironic. “So impatient.” She pulled Kira to her feet with surprising strength. “Come. Let’s get you ready for your man.”
“No.” Kira’s mumbled protest was disregarded. Providence sat her on the beach, her back against a rock. She was in a small depression surrounded by rocks and sand dunes. In the middle was a rock with an iron ring bolted to it; a chain and manacles coiled neatly on top.
Destiny piled wood around it.
Kira watched, horrified. It was a pyre. Were they planning to burn her after the men finished with her?
But no men arrived. The pile grew until there was only a thin path to the rock. Providence came then, helping her stand with surprising gentleness. “It’ll be over soon,” she said softly, guiding Kira through the rocks.
Breathing hard in a useless effort to get her body to resist, Kira slumped on a log as Providence closed one of the manacles on her wrist. Warm from the sun, it clanked over her bracelet and filled Kira with a paralyzing horror. Fresh cut wood, salt brine and brandy filled her nostrils. Destiny poured a vial of scented oil over Kira’s hair. It ran down her scalp, hot with the essence of cayenne and cinnamon. Her skin burned. A drop fell in her eyes, and she cried from fear and pain. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her body wouldn’t obey. It was all she could do to wipe streaming eyes.
They scattered a basket of cinnamon sticks, fistfuls of cloves and Fortune’s candlenut bracelet on the pyre. At last they stood back, their gazes solemn. “Goodbye, Kira,” Fortune said softly. “Wake to good fortune.”
“Providence be with you,” Providence intoned.
“Destiny awaits,” Destiny said, raising high the sparkling red vial that seized Kira’s will. She poured the contents in a scarlet trail of tears. Where it fell, it blazed, causing the brandy soaked pyre to flame.
And then Kira was burning. Large flakes of red ash drifted into the air, like scarlet poppy petals on a summer breeze. The flames rose green and blue, tinted by the salt-laced driftwood. Spices rose like incense, turning her death into a celebration.
Her hair went with a rush. Her flesh smelled sweet as it burned, like pork wrapped in ti leaves and buried in coals. It burned, it was agony…and then, it was nothing. Everything that had been Kira was gone.
She was awake. Unfocused, remote, but aware. She felt the sun’s sizzle as she hovered above the dying fire. Little more than coals, it flickered fitfully, stirring in the slight breeze. She smelled rain.
And then she was a coal, an ember nestled in the slumbering fire. She reached up and felt her hand break into cool air. Moaning, she clawed to the surface and crawled weakly across a bed of coals that did not burn. Her hand grasped the loose sand at the edge of the pit, dug in. Gasping, she wormed out of the ashes and collapsed on the sand. Naked, shivering, she fainted.
She did not wake again until evening. Muzzy, disoriented, she opened her eyes and discovered she was lying on the carpet of her rented cottage. Stumbling in the dark, she made it to the bathroom and swatted the light plate. She gripped the counter, her eyes on the cracked sink as she adjusted to the light. A strand of dark red hair slid over her shoulder and pooled in the basin. She stared, confused. Her hair was brown, shoulder length. This wasn’t her hair.
She lifted her eyes to the mirror and sucked in a sharp breath. Her skin was still pale, but smooth and clear as milk. Her formerly pale, watery blue eyes now shown like dark sapphires. She had a gold and ruby ring though her nose. She didn’t know that face.
There was sand on her skin. Dazed, Kira walked to the tiled shower and turned on the heat, but even the scalding water felt tepid. Shivering, she scrubbed quickly, but no matter how much coconut shampoo she lathered on, her hair still smelled like cinnamon. Muttering, she snapped off the water and stepped out.
Wrapped in a towel, she returned to the mirror. She never had a nose ring, didn’t want one, but she couldn’t get it loose. All her efforts produced were a sore nose. Growling, she tried to slide the cuff off her wrist, but it wouldn’t budge. It was as if it were fused to her skin.
The red hair was something else. It hung in a thick, sleek wave to her waist and dried in less than two minutes. She vowed to cut it the first chance she got.
She was so tired. She pulled on pajamas, then sat on her bed and stared at the phone. If she called the police, what would she tell them? Nothing they’d believe.
She lay down on top of the covers, too warm. Had those women brought her here? She couldn’t remember, but doubted she’d returned on her own. Why? Why would they bother?
Why wasn’t she dead? That bothered her the most. She remembered burning, but she wasn’t dead. She was changed. But changed into what?
She felt feverish, and hungry as a newly hatched chick. She went to the mini-fridge, but leftover sushi and fruit sounded nasty. She had water, but oddly, it didn’t feel wet. It felt…wrong. As if water didn’t have the ability to quench her new thirst.
Aching, unsatisfied, Kira returned to the bed and fell into a fitful, burning slumber.
He knew when they lit the fire. Though he wasn’t on the same island, he could feel her burning.
It was too late to stop them, even if Raze had cared. The Fates could burn an island full of girls, and he wouldn’t care. If he’d wanted burnt sacrifices, he could have done it himself.
Still, the volcano stirred with quick pleasure at his anger. Raze was fire, the only law it knew. Sometimes, if he were angry, he would release the leash. Kilauea didn’t care for its leash.
But Raze told himself he wasn’t angry. He was disinterested, carefully so. The Fates had conspired with mortals to lock his kind away for 800 years. Now
that he was free, he wouldn’t waste time in idle curiosity. Vengeance consumed him. Everywhere he looked, humans thrived. He wanted to burn them, devour them with fire and lava, bury them in ash. The only thing that gave him pause were the Fates, and the knowledge that they’d once succeeded in imprisoning him.
His smile was deep and bitter. As if he would accept a human for a wife, no matter how they changed her. Mortals could not be trusted.
He turned away from the thoughts, and the knowledge that somewhere a woman burned…burned for him.
She was starving. Kira forced herself to eat the sushi, but it did nothing to cure the gnawing hunger. It sat heavy in her belly while the craving grew.
Restless, she went for an evening walk, keeping her head down to hide the embarrassing nose ring. There was no backing, no catch. It was as if the ring had been soldered in place. She needed wire cutters.
She needed food. Ice cream sounded horrific. Steak, well done and just this side of burnt, might do. The thought of charcoal sent her feet in the direction of the Italian restaurant, and that was where she made her fortuitous discovery.
She glanced at the crossed tiki torches by the entrance, and suddenly knew what she was craving. She willed the fire to her…and the flames went out. With one breath, she swallowed their energy, the equivalent of a mouthful.
Stunned, she stared at the wisps of smoke curling off the blackened wicks. With a guilty look around, she quickened her step and passed the restaurant. Fire. She’d eaten fire!
She felt like a thief, or some kind of vampire. Worse, now that she knew what she hungered for, she wondered where to get more. She couldn’t build a bonfire; she had no wood and she was sure she’d get in trouble. There were a few tiki torches scattered around, but judging by what she’d consumed, they weren’t enough to satisfy her. She needed a substantial flame.
She paced and thought, consuming more torches. It was like taking sips when she craved a whole bucket. Desperate, she bought candles from the gift shop and lit them in her room, but even lighting and consuming them repeatedly didn’t satisfy her. She needed more fire!