by Holly Hook
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
There's More!
Awakening of Fire
Book One of the Dragon Born Series
By Holly Hook
Copyright 2018 Holly Hook
Chapter One
"Girls. Are those nails natural?"
A mall kiosk guy yelled at Tasha and me from behind a small counter. The two of us stopped right there in the Friday night foot traffic. Well, I only stopped because my friend did and I banged right into her.
"Keep going," I hissed. Those kiosk people had a habit of being as annoying as carnival barkers and just as pushy, but Tasha, who liked to show off, was easy prey. This guy was a bloodhound.
Tasha stepped closer to the kiosk and held up her hand to the guy, a blond, college-aged dude. "Why, yes. They are." She fluffed up the frills of her blouse with her other hand.
"Vendor," I warned from the corner of my mouth.
"College guy, Felicia," she hissed.
There was one rule about pushy booth vendors and it was to walk (or run) away before they had the chance to mess with you. This one looked new because I hadn't seen him before. Tasha loved taking me to the mall and trying to get me to change my getup, so I knew the employees by heart. He was an attractive member of the male species, and I knew he used that to draw in unsuspecting ladies. Tasha didn't realize he wasn't hitting on her. The guy also had a medallion hanging around his neck. A large ruby mounted in an iron ring reflected the mall lights and caught my gaze. I'd seen nothing like it.
"You," he said to Tasha. He winked one of those brilliant blue eyes and nodded. "Are you seventeen? Eighteen?"
"We're both seventeen," she said.
"Those are long nails," he continued.
Tasha fluttered her eyelids and held up her hand. "Thanks!"
The dude stood inside that booth that sold useless sea salt products.
I gulped.
"Tasha--"
My best friend drew too close to the trap. The guy smiled, grabbed Tasha's arm from behind the counter and reeled her in. He was armed with something that looked like a solidified sponge.
"Hey," Tasha said.
But he didn't listen. The college guy rubbed the nail buffer on Tasha's finger. "You can do so much with these nails. Watch." Scrape, scrape. "See how this is smoothing out your nail. Look at how shiny that is."
"You're holding my arm." Tasha glanced at me. It meant help.
"Yes," I said, walking into the danger zone. "She didn't give you permission to demonstrate."
He kept buffing as if I'd said nothing. Tasha tried to pull her arm back, but this dude looked as if he worked out. It was hopeless. The vendor wouldn't let a fish escape. He smiled, ramping up the charm. "It would be a waste if you did nothing with these beautiful hands." Now he turned on a faint accent, something European. It would be drop-dead sexy under other circumstances. Then he stopped rubbing and pushed Tasha's hand closer to her face. One of her nails looked like floor wax. "Look at that."
"That's shiny. I suppose," she said.
"Hey," I said, edging up to her. Tasha didn't need to get pressured out of money. She didn't get much and went to the mall because it was the only thing to do around here. "She did not ask to have her arm grabbed."
But the guy moved on to the next nail. "You need another demonstration, then."
Tasha sighed, but something else caught my attention. The vendor's medallion now glowed with a bloody light. As I crept closer, it intensified. For a moment, I wondered if the medallion could detect the anger of customers, because I was getting fed up.
"She doesn't," I said with enough force to make people turn their heads.
Then our tormentor grabbed a paper bag of his crappy products off the counter and placed it inches from Tasha, maintaining his grip. "For fifteen dollars, you'll get three buffers, plus two nail files and a bottle of clear coat. That sounds good, doesn't it?"
Tasha stared at him, unable to speak. The vendor kept her in his gaze. Silence dragged out. He was using awkward quiet to draw out a yes.
I leaned on the counter. As I did, his medallion went from a glow to a scream. It cast a red, fuzzy circle on his gray T-shirt. The vendor's muscles bulged against it. Tasha had no hope of breaking away. She opened her mouth, and I feared she'd let this guy scam her.
"No," I said. Something felt off. I'd heard of Mages out there, humans with magic. The authorities warned us to stay away from Abnormals. This man just might be one. What else explained the medallion? The thought sent ice down my spine.
Tasha shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."
The guy glanced down at his medallion and back at us. During that split second, his expression hardened. "Hold out your thumb," he instructed Tasha. She did. And then he hung the bag of his products off it. "Don't tell the manager this, but this is yours for only ten dollars."
Tasha bit her lip, about to cave.
I'd had enough.
"She doesn't want your bag of crap I can get at the dollar store," I snapped. "And why would she need clear coat if your products will make her nails shiny?"
The guy switched his gaze to me. A savage hunger filled his eyes. Before I could back away, he seized my arm instead. Tasha shook hers out and backed away, breathing a sigh of relief as the bag fell to the floor. If Mom saw this, she'd freak and never let me come to the mall again.
But I could take care of myself. "Let go."
The guy turned his aggression on my nail. Why did the mall allow this? The medallion continued to brighten. There was no way it wasn't magic. Great.
"This will only take a minute," he said. "Please. You'll be more open than your friend." The guy maintained a smile, but he had the eyes of a hardened prisoner. The man glanced down at his medallion again as if to make sure it was still giving off a light show.
"Release my arm or I'll yell for security!"
The guy looked at me as if he wanted to laugh. I couldn't stop looking at the ruby. The sight of it hanging around his neck filled me with rage and I didn't know why. I wanted to reach out and grab it, snatching it off his neck.
"This will only take one more minute," the vendor said, finishing. "See? How can you not like the way this looks?" He held my hand up. Did my nail appear longer than before?
I waited for Tasha to say something, but she continued to watch. Someone brushed against me as the foot traffic continued. The whole situation was freaking me out. The guy had a greedy gleam in his eye as of I were a pile of gold.
He reached under the counter to draw out another bag of his crap products. I pulled against his grasp, sure to report him.
"For only seven dollars--"
"We'll pay your ransom," Tasha said.
"Don't give in," I said, turning my head to face her since my arm was still resting on the counter. I'd never felt this angry before. An urge to hurt this guy swept over me. I didn't understand it.
But Tasha's eyes got wide, and she brought her hands to her mouth.
"Felicia, he's got a knife!"
I whirled. Knife was an understatement.
The surfer dude had finished his transformation from annoying ve
ndor to psychopath while I wasn't looking. Instead of a bag, he held a dagger that bordered on sword. More rubies decorated the handle. This was no display blade. The point was sharp. Gleaming. This could kill.
The heat intensified under my skin, pooling in my hands.
I raked my free hand across the guy's face. For a split second, my nails appeared longer. Sharper. Darker. Four thin, bloody lines appeared across the guy's cheek and his grip loosened on my arm. I backpedaled into Tasha as other patrons screamed and scattered from Mr. Crazy.
"Run," she said.
The vendor brought his hand up to his cheek and drew it back to see the blood. Then he stared me down, lifted the long dagger, and jumped over the counter of his kiosk.
More people screamed and scattered. Some ducked into stores. All the heat and rage washing through me died. Only icy terror remained.
I ran.
Tasha and I dodged around stunned people as the guy bolted after us.
"Outside!" she shouted.
The parking lot. He'd catch up with us there, and then he'd stab. I'd heard of aggressive sales tactics, but this was over the top.
"The security office," I said, grabbing Tasha's arm and pulling her past a kiosk of heat wraps.
"Move!" the guy shouted at people. He crashed into something, another vendor. Things rattled and fell to the floor. "I only want her!"
That was reassuring for everyone but one person. Tasha and I bolted down the narrow hallway to the security office and past a guy walking away from the bathrooms.
The psycho rounded the corner, shoes squeaking against the linoleum.
We screamed together.
"Security!" Tasha shouted.
Straight ahead, the door was shut.
And the psycho wasn't deterred. I knew, right then, that he didn't care if he got caught. Seeing me bleed all over the mall floor was what he wanted. I'd die before opening the door.
Rage exploded again in a mushroom cloud of fire and roaring. I stopped and let go of my friend's arm. She bolted for the security room door and I whirled as the guy raised that scary dagger to end me. The rubies on the hilt gave off the same savage light as the one around his neck. He looked like an ancient warrior ready to slay a monster.
What was I doing?
I slashed again, this time across his chest, ripping the fabric of his T-shirt. Heat flared in my hand. My nails met flesh. They sunk in, deeper this time. More blood seeped out and smoke rose from his wounds. A fiery glow started inside the slashes as a sizzling noise joined it.
The guy gasped, dropped his dagger, and brought his hand to his chest.
My rage cooled and horror filled me as I backed away, knees trembling, and struck the water fountain.
Smoke poured out of his wounds—the impossible ones I had inflicted with only my fingernails—as the surfer leaned against the wall and curled his body around the source of his pain. Behind me, Tasha screamed again. People gathered at the mouth of the security hallway, trying to see the happenings. The man grit his teeth and seethed in agony, falling to the floor. An acrid stench filled the air.
My heart raced. My mouth went dry.
I didn't understand.
And at last, footfalls emerged from the security office as the door banged open. An overweight, middle-aged man bolted towards the guy and kneeled down as he continued to burn from the inside out. He got out his radio after waving smoke from his face. "Call an ambulance!" he shouted into it. "We have a man who's set himself on fire and a dangerous weapon. This is not a drill. Call now!"
Tasha pulled me back and around the fountain. I could only watch as more smoke rose from the now-still assailant on the floor and his T-shirt caught like a newspaper in a bonfire. The security guard scrambled for something to fan out the flames, but it was too late.
Chapter Two
Tasha gained more sense than I in those next horrible moments. An alarm went off in the mall, a shrill ringing that told everyone to get out. The sprinkler system turned on above us, showering us in freezing, smelly water that must come out of old pipes. It was another reason to duck into the security office, which had no sprinklers and nothing else but a vending machine and a computer desk. Our little mall was so ill-prepared for crime we didn't even have security cameras.
She faced me, trembling. "Did that guy burn from inside?"
I nodded. Words failed me right now.
"You slashed him with your nails," Tasha said. Her voice shook. "How did you do that?"
"By curling them and then doing this?" I waved my hand through the air. I must have been seeing things before, because even though I kept them long, my fingernails didn't look like anything special. They hadn't even seen a coat of polish lately. Maybe I should add some. Then aggressive sea salt nail buffer vendors wouldn't try another trick like that again.
"I knew you had long nails, but dang," Tasha said.
Outside in the hall, the sprinklers continued to work. I didn't want to check on the guy lying in the hallway or the security guard. He wouldn't ask us if we'd set him on fire, right? Besides, the dagger was lying next to him. That was incriminating enough.
"People do amazing things when threatened. That must have been it. We need to go," I said. "Before they catch us."
"We did nothing wrong," Tasha said. "Besides, leaving might get us in trouble. They will ask us questions--"
"My parents," I said.
Tasha let her jaw fall. "Oh."
"They'll never let me out again if they find out about this," I said. "Ever. They'll lock me in my room." Mom and Dad had a Safety First and Only motto when it came to me. They only let me come to the mall if I had someone with me. Without Tasha, I'd never get to leave the olive farm. I was seventeen, for crap's sake.
I knew it was bad to flee from the scene, but it wasn't just the thought of my parents putting more restrictions on me that compelled me to push open the emergency exit door and sneak out to the employees' break area. I couldn't process what had just happened. What was that guy, and why had he burned when I slashed him? Why did he only turn his aggression on me, and how the heck did I cut him across the chest? I was Normal with normal fingernails and strength. Sure, my parents had adopted me as a baby, but I'd gone to the doctor for a million checkups since then. If I was anything other than a full human or even cursed with something like lycanthropy, blood tests would have picked that out. And I was certain I hadn't got bitten or scratched by a werewolf any time in my life. No one had sighted one in the area.
And yet—
"We can't leave," Tasha said.
"Please," I said. The dying man in there was Abnormal, not me. It was no wonder they told us to stay away. "Keep this a secret."
Tasha paused, then nodded. "Fine."
"I need better than 'fine,'" I said.
"It's our secret. I won't tell a soul," she said, holding up her pinky.
"You're awesome," I said, taking it in mine. "Let's get out of here. Now. If they catch us, we can say we were running from the fire. Some crazy dude lit himself."
"Without a lighter?" Tasha asked. Leave it to her to find the holes in my story.
But I already ran across the parking lot. The sun beat down on us along with the dry heat of spring. Already, people poured out the doors. The sun hung like a shining, lazy eye in the sky. Distant, excited chatter filled the air. As I walked across the concrete and past a table with a bunch of crushed cigarette butts, a flock of birds took off into flight.
I could breathe out here.
And better yet, I'd get home before the eight o'clock curfew. Mom and Dad hated it when I dared to be out any later. They didn't like the nighttime. Sure, that was when some dangerous Abnormals liked to come out, and I didn't want to run into them either, but the town of Olivia was not only small, it was out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing happened here.
"Okay," Tasha said, checking her phone. "It's five after seven. We should be able to drive back to your house before your parents freak."
Another burst of a
nger filled me and the heat returned. What was wrong with me? I'd experienced nothing like this before today. "Agreed," I said. "I hate the way they treat me."
"I've been telling you for years it's ridiculous," Tasha said. "You need to rebel more."
"Where do I go if they kick me out?" We headed over to where Tasha had parked her old zombie Toyota. "I could hike into the growing desert and live as a hermit, I suppose."
"Kicking you out would mean giving you some freedom," Tasha said.
"Good point."
"You need to stand up for yourself," she said. "You turn eighteen next year."
"I just did!" I faced my friend. Tasha took a step back. "You stood there while that guy was buffing your nail and then you almost bought his crap. Or paid his ransom as you said."
"He was using high pressure sales tactics!"
We were getting worked up. Having a crazy dude chase you with a dagger and then drop and burn in the mall wasn't something that happened every day. "He must have been some kind of Abnormal."
"I can't think of any that burn when they die. Even vampires don't burst into flames in the sun. They get super sick. If you're getting chased by one, run into the sun."
It was a rhyme the police and fire department taught us kids back in elementary, right along with the stop, drop, and roll mantra. The problem with that was that vampires came out at night, and there was no sun to help you. They were sometimes spotted during the day, but only indoors or while it was very overcast. And Olivia had had no overcast and rainy days in too long. We were in the middle of a drought. It was not the place any sane vampire would visit.
"It's not like I will ask my parents what he could have been. That medallion around his neck. Did you see it?"
"The glowing one? That could have been anything. They make necklaces that glow from the inside now. Or don't you know?"
I did. I loved my jewelry and had a blue orb at home that gave off a glow in the dark. "It didn't look like that," I said.
We climbed into Tasha's car, the Zombie. At least those weren't real as far as I knew, and they didn't burn from the inside, either. The seats squeaked as the two of us sat. Though it was a collection of rusty parts, the Toyota started on every attempt. It was a good find. Tasha's uncle had been getting rid of it and she took the opportunity.