Fire Born

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Fire Born Page 6

by Rayanne Haines


  Alex leaned over and kissed her grandfather’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me more about her. Now, I need to learn more about who I am. Can the Elementals talk to each other telepathically?” she asked again.

  “No, Alex, they cannot.” Collum replied without hesitation while stroking her fingers absently. “Are you ready to tell us what your dream was about?”

  Neeren's face appeared behind her eyes. Nothing was black and white, she told herself before shaking her head. “It was nothing. It’s probably fear of the unknown cropping up. Look, I'm exhausted and I need to use the bathroom. Can you guys give me some space please?”

  The men moved away in an uneasy truce. As they found their seats, Alex marched to the bathroom.

  In the tiny room, she stripped before the mirror and studied the tattoo coiled around her body. There was no room for fear now. She’d have to get a grip and deal with it. Flames wound around her leg, hugging her muscles. Fire settled on each rib, dropping bits of red ash. The flames floated up her side, along her shoulder blade, over her shoulder, and ended where Neeren had touched her. Who was he? He’d said her family was waiting. For a moment, Alex couldn't breathe. She closed her eyes until the chaos calmed. Until she was ready for more.

  Her red hair glistened and her skin glowed. As she stared, the tattoo shifted against her skin. She had no idea what the flame did, but the power of it echoed through her body. It connected with her muscles and pulsed against her nerve endings. A yellow half-moon shimmered in the centre of her violet eyes. She inhaled raggedly.

  She wanted to know. Needed to know why her eyes now matched Neeren’s. So, this was it. The decision was made. She would go to Neeren when he came for her.

  Chapter 10

  Neeren sat in his garden a moment, composed himself before heading into the house. They'd found her and soon they would have her. So many years of loss and waiting. They almost had Alex and she was perfect. He forced himself to let go of the past.

  Entering the library, he found her sitting in a pool of light, in front of the ceiling high windows. “It is done.”

  Lifting her head, she dropped the book she was reading onto her lap and nervously twisted her hands together. “Did you tell her about me?”

  “No. Only that I would be coming for her.”

  “Good, she can't know about me yet. Meeting you will be enough of a shock.”

  “I agree but soon it will become apparent.”

  All around Neeren lay the trappings of wealth and ease. Every need, every want, had been his. The home, designed with his every desire in mind, had been built entirely from glass and steel. He wanted no shadows in his house or his life. Artwork from the greatest modern painters covered the few walls he had. The rest lay in piles around the room. His home sat on the edge of a cliff, the ocean on three sides of him. No matter where you stood, thanks to the glass, the sea was there to meet you. His grounds were heavily guarded and his estate was vast. He was surrounded by beauty—as he should be. He thought of Alex. She truly knew nothing, and those who sought to keep her from them had taught her nothing.

  Neeren poured himself a glass of spiced rum, as he thought back to his upbringing. His people had called him special. Capable of more than any of them, power had been his birthright. Such had not been the case for Alex.

  “Don't worry,” he said. “I will help her find her way. And I will bring her home.”

  Chapter 11

  The plane reached England at three in the morning. Unable to relax his guard, Collum had been awake for hours. He and Domhall had taken turns watching over Alex during the twelve-hour flight. Domhall fell asleep around one in the morning. Through his headphones, the whole plane could hear a bass beat. How the man’s hearing was still intact, was anyone’s guess.

  Tense from the hours of listening to Alex’s mewling sleep sounds, Collum leaned over as the plane began its descent. He stared in fascination at the freckles along her nose.

  “Hey, we're about to land.” He chuckled as she scowled in her sleep and rolled over. “C'mon, wake up, babe.” Bending closer, he whispered in her ear, “You're whimpering sex sounds in your sleep. Are you dreaming of me?”

  He watched, fascinated as her eyelids fluttered open and she reached for him. The hair rose on his arms, his nerve endings flared to life. Ignoring common sense, he pulled her fingers to his mouth to suckle them. Kept his body between her and Domhall. The guy still appeared to be sound asleep; the Deaftones Leather blasted out his headphones and he hadn't moved in hours. Still you never knew with Domhall.

  When he saw the moon in the centre of her violet eyes, he almost climbed on top of her. Domhall be dammed. He pulled her fingers from his mouth and reached for her mass of hair. “I'm gonna turn those whimpers into moans.”

  The captain’s voice welcoming them to England brought him back to earth with a re-sounding crash.

  “Fuck,” he whispered as he started to back away. “We’re going to burn so good together.”

  He turned away before either of them did something even more stupid, to see Domhall glowering in his direction.

  “Could you use a little more discretion,” Domhall flung out, music still blaring.

  “I'm trying man. I really am.” Collum walked away scolded, but too worked up to care.

  He'd felt the heat rising off Alex. He'd seen her eyes. Her transition was reaching explosive levels. When the time came that they couldn't hold back, and it was coming soon, they'd be lucky if they came away whole.

  Chapter 12

  Alex watched Collum walk down the aisle. Her grandfather followed him off the plane. Domhall was loudly singing Beat It by Michael Jackson so she figured it was smart to leave him be.

  Why the hell did Collum have that effect on her? He'd practically had her begging him to rip her pants off. She shoved herself out of the seat and followed the men off the plane, steam rising from her hair.

  As she pushed passed Domhall, she heard him grumble something about luggage and being nobodies errand boy.

  “Hey,” she blasted as she reached Collum on the Tarmac below. “You can't just do that you know.”

  “I'm on the edge here,” he warned without turning around.

  “Look at me. I mean it. You almost jumped me in front of Domhall.”

  He spun around, steel in his voice. “Look, sweetheart, you reached for me. Now move away or I’m throwing you to the ground, and I don't give a shit who’s watching. Christ, look at you. Your hair is almost on fire. I can see that fucking flame glowing beneath your clothes. And your eyes are shimmering. You want me to find out what fire tastes like? Keep pushing.”

  The ends of her hair burst into flame and she grabbed him with both hands. “I dare you to try,” she half screamed.

  Collum stepped forward so that their bodies were touching. “You're going to kill me, Alex. Can't you feel how close to the edge I am? I'm going to go get the car and you are going to stay away from me. You’re going to sit in the back seat and not say another word to me until we get to the house. Soon, I’m going to come to you. You will let me into your room and I’ll take you up on your little dare. Taste every inch of you until you’re screaming my name, begging for more. And then, I am going to make you mine. Do you understand?”

  As she stared at the man in front of her, the feminist in her screeched in rebellion. She dropped her hands from his shirt, took a step back, and burst out laughing.

  “Oh man, you really are two thousand. Do chicks usually dig that macho crap? Do you ever have me pegged wrong. Take your archaic, do-what-I-tell-you attitude and shove it. You’re hot, I’ll give you that—but fuck off.” She snapped her fingers, said, “You gotta work a little harder for a piece of this,” and walked away, hair on fire, strutting like the warrior she was.

  The heat of Collum’s lust-filled gaze at her back near
ly burned her up, until she reached the car and slid inside, still aching with desire.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alex sat fuming in the back seat of the vehicle, when Domhall appeared ten minutes later, their bags in tow. He nodded at the Land Rover. “I'll drive.”

  “Not a chance,” Collum quipped as he jumped in the driver's seat. “I still don't trust you. I appreciate your help in the airport, but it's my car, and I'm driving.”

  “You would risk my anger?”

  “When are you going to get it? I'm not afraid of you. I never have been. I was killing your kind before you were born. So how about you don't forget who I am. The mission, and Alex's protection, are my responsibility.”

  Alex watched the two men eye each other up. She rubbed the back of her neck in irritation.

  Domhall snorted and turned his golden head to the side. “Whatever, but I'm with you every step of the way. And if I feel you aren't up to the task, I'll take the choice away from you.”

  “I wouldn't have it any other way,” Collum snarled.

  They traveled further inland on a series of nondescript roads. Despite everything, Alex appreciated the beauty of the surroundings. Gentle, sloping hills flew by, heather dotted the craggy landscape. The earth felt raw and relentless, as though the land itself held immense power; power it would never relinquish to a mere human.

  They drove through a modest village in a green valley, bordered by the ragged mountains. As the vehicle climbed, the air became thinner, seemed to shimmer. As they turned a corner an ancient estate appeared out of nowhere. At the wrought iron gate, Collum leaned out to punch in a security code. Soundlessly, the gate swung open.

  Alex marveled at the ancient magic pulsing around her. The castle was carved out of the face of the mountain. “This is your place?”

  Collum shrugged, “My family has owned this land for as many centuries as the Ilse of Whyte has existed.”

  Alex wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it wasn't this place of shadows and magic. The sun rose over the mountains. Energy glowed all around the house. Clearly Collum only had one foot in the mortal world. His control and strength told her much about him. But seeing his home showed her who he was in ways his mannerisms never would. This home, this land, was where he belonged. She was certain of it.

  “Don't think about it too much, Alex. It’s only a house.”

  “Only it isn’t, is it? It's you and it’s beautiful.”

  They locked eyes. She forgot the sway of the willow trees. The music of the underground springs faded under the roar of desire churning in her ears. Her breasts ached. Desire bubbled in the back of her throat as his eyes scored her.

  His lip curled. He stepped toward her.

  Domhall’s voice brought her back to reality. “Hey, do you have any staff here? Any food? A pretty water fountain isn't going to feed me.”

  Her face heated as Collum shook his head, said “Shit” under his breath and turned to her grandfather.

  “I sent Glenn a text from the airport. There should be a light meal ready for us in the dining room. The wards around the outer property keep it hidden from outside eyes. I'll add more today. That should keep us protected for a few days at least.”

  “Good,” Domhall replied. “The elders will send out scouts. When the scouts can't find us, they will come themselves. Even with your wards, we have three days here at most. Contacting the witch needs to be your first, and only, priority.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Inside, the castle looked like what Alex always envisioned a castle would. Every inch of it gleamed with old wealth. Alex followed Collum down the hallway, feeling like she'd stepped back in time to the sixteenth century, but with HBO and high-speed Internet. When she tried to ask him about some interesting art on the wall, he replied, “Ask Glenn. He runs the place. I only live here.”

  He showed her to a room without looking at her, threw her bag on the bed and told her to be down for breakfast in twenty minutes before backing out the door with Domhall on his heels.

  As soon as the two men left, Alex rushed to the bathroom for a desperately needed shower. She'd been up for almost twenty-four hours at that point and the stress she'd experienced throughout the day was enough to give anyone BO. The huge bathroom was carved directly out of the rock. The sink and counters floated slightly off the wall. The toilet was hidden behind a separate door. The sunken tub-slash-shower took up half the space. When she stepped down on the base of the tub, the floor warmed to her touch. In the shower, a rain stream fell gently on her skin from the ceiling, while a natural spring poured out of the mountain wall. For ten short minutes she luxuriated in the steam that rose as the water hit the heated floor.

  Conscious of the time and starving, she forced herself out of the shower, and into the bedroom to dry off. The room was decorated entirely in shades of yellow, from soft butter tones, to the deepest wine-gold. The bed was so high she had to jump on to it. Pillows of all sizes covered the bottom half. A flat screen TV jutted up from the foot of the bed. A massive fireplace filled one entire wall. She allowed herself one moment of pretense—that she was on vacation—before brushing her teeth and dressing in a new pair of sweats, a fresh sports bra, and clean tank top. She desperately needed a run to clear her head but knew the chance of that happening was nil. Maybe after breakfast she could talk Collum into letting her go . . . if she stayed on the estate.

  With a final look at the bed, she shoved her hands through her hair, tried to work out the tangles, and headed for the dining room.

  Chapter 13

  Collum lounged at the mahogany table, drinking a coffee, and reading the news when Alex entered the kitchen. He tossed the paper aside to study her. “You're late. And you don't have socks on.

  The flame on her toe mocked him. Bits of fire creeped around the edges of her tank top. Her hair was wet and wild around her face again. “Are you kidding me? I rushed as quickly as I could. Plus, I like going barefoot.”

  He stood, walked to her, and stroked the edges of fire on her shoulder. “When were you planning on telling me this had fully emerged?”

  She shrugged. “It happened on the plane.”

  “After you woke up crying, you mean?” Collum stroked the tattoo. Waves of heat wrapped around them. His eyes glowed.

  Alex leaned into him. “Yes.”

  He concentrated on the lines of the tattoo. Danced his fingers along the edges. Let his mind reach for hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because of my dream.”

  He ran his fingers across her cheek. Breathed deeply. Wondered how far he should go. “You’ll tell me about your dream soon. Won’t you?”

  “Yes, always yes.”

  “Have the Elementals reached you?”

  Her eyes glazed over. “Elemental? No. Not them.”

  Collum released her shoulder and stepped back. He'd gotten the answer he wanted.

  “The mark shouldn't have happened this quickly. You still don't want to tell me what your dream was about?” She almost fell as he stepped away.

  Anger jumped at him from her accusing eyes. “You know what? Screw you. I don't know what you did there, but don't ever do it again. I don't have to tell you everything.”

  “You do if it affects my ability to keep you safe, sweetheart.”

  “Quit calling me that. I'm not talking to you anymore. I'm hungry. I’ve hardly eaten, and had even less sleep. So back off and shut up.”

  “Do you know what it means?”

  “What?” she asked, exasperated.

  “Your tattoo. Do you know what it means?”

  She sighed but refused to look at him. “You know I don't.”

  “It means you have fully transitioned into your Elemental state. That tattoo holds your power. It’s a part of you and will react, and respond with your emotions
. It feeds off your element. You will use it to protect yourself.”

  “I’ve never seen one on Aunt Quinn.”

  “Quinn’s element is wind. Wind is easy to disguise.” He leaned back on his heels. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  He witnessed the struggle on her face. Held his tongue as she rubbed the tattoo where he’d touched her moments before. Let her come to the truth on her own.

  “I’m immortal.”

  He opened his mouth, blew smoke over her tattoo, watched it writhe against her skin. “Yes, babe, you’re immortal.”

  He leaned in, intent on licking Alex’s tattoo to show her what immortality meant just as Domhall entered the room, and headed straight for the cinnamon buns on the corner table.

  “So,” Domhall mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, “when you mentioned Glenn earlier, were you talking about the Glenn?”

  Collum stepped back, moaned under his breath, “Fucking guy has the worst timing,” before turning to Domhall. “Excuse me?”

  Domhall removed his headphones. “Glenn, the Glenn. Is that the Glenn you mentioned earlier? ‘Cause if it is, I might forgive the totally inappropriate shit with my granddaughter I walked in on. Get a bit of control, dude.”

  Bearing his teeth at the man, Collum replied, “Yes, it’s the Glenn.”

  Domhall rubbed his hands gleefully and two-stepped to the coffee pot.

  “What’s he talking about? Who's Glenn?” a red-faced Alex asked.

  Collum threw his hands up, headed for the coffee pot himself, and simply replied, “Have a cinnamon bun and cup of coffee. Then let me know if I need to answer that question.

 

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