Frost Fire (Tortured Elements)

by Rivers, Olivia

  “What are you doing?” Her words came out shaky, more of a croak than anything.

  He offered her his hand. At first she thought he might slap her with it, or do something else threatening. But then she saw the blood he’d collected on his fingertips, and realized he was just trying to show it to her.

  “You’re bleeding.” He paused before adding, “That’s what you get for punching me.”

  Allai closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus. Her scalp stung, and she felt a trickle of blood running down her cheek and re-covering the area Drake had smeared. She’d been stupid to make Drake let go of her. And he’d been an asshole for dropping her.

  She wiped at the blood with the back of her hand and glared at Drake. Her head continued its pounding, and she suddenly wasn’t in the mood to go along with being the victim. She wanted out of here. Preferably alive. “Get away from me,” she growled at Drake.

  He just smirked. It was a cocky expression, and it made Allai want to punch him again. “Do you really think you’re in a position to be giving me orders, little Nox?” Drake asked, slowly shaking his head.

  “My dungeon, my rules,” Allai snapped. “Get the hell away.”

  “Oh, so this is your dungeon.” He made a sweeping gesture to their surroundings.

  As his arm swept to the side, his claws extended from the knuckles of his right hand. He brought them back and placed their tips against Allai’s neck. She flinched and waited for pain, but there wasn’t any. There was just gentle, threatening pressure.

  Drake continued smirking as he said, “If this is your dungeon, then you must be the person who dragged me here while I couldn’t fight back. Are you that person, little Nox?”

  She was. Maybe she hadn’t done the psychical dragging, but she’d been the one who had told Luke about him. It was all her fault that he was trapped down here. Allai swallowed hard, increasing the pressure of his claws for a short moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He frowned at her response, like he hadn’t been expecting it. Then he went back to biting his lower lip and just staring at her. His claws drew back half an inch. “What are you doing down here, anyway?”

  “I… I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I just wanted to see you before you got turned into a Persequor. But…” She shook her head. “You didn’t change.”

  He scoffed. “You wanted to see me, the guy who was sent to kill you?”

  She noticed how he worded the sentence in a detached way. Like nothing was his fault, like he’d just been doing his job when he’d tried to murder her. It was just another reason she should punch him.

  “I wanted some finality,” she said. “You know, to make sure you were really changing and losing your emotions. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about whatever vendetta you have against me.”

  “Vendetta?” He sounded angry now, and his lip lifted into something like a snarl. “Who told you I have a vendetta? Look, I’ve never wanted to hurt you. It’s not like that.”

  Her mind whirled. He sounded so serious, so sincere, that she could almost believe him. But the memory of the event continued to flash in front of her eyes. His claws rushing down, his eyes looking so determined…

  Drake sighed, seeming to read her thoughts. “I don’t have a vendetta, and I’m also not a Persequor. So you don’t have to worry about me killing you, okay?”

  She glanced to his extended claws and gave him a skeptical look. He followed her gaze and said, “But no one else needs to know that I’m not going to kill you. Got it? I don’t want you scared, but you should know that I’m going to use you for leverage.”

  She nodded, catching onto his plan: He was going to hold her hostage until Shieldak let him go. She opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t going to work, but then closed it. What would he do with her if Drake knew he couldn’t use her? Go back on his word and kill her? Probably. She took a deep breath and rethought her plan. Maybe talking her way out of this was the best option.

  She stayed frozen for a minute, Drake crouching right next to her and his claws gently pressing against the fragile skin of her neck. But then she realized that talking her way out of this required talking, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Why aren’t you a Persequor?

  Drake’s eyebrow rose, the one with the black piercing, and he looked like he was considering something. Then he shrugged and said, “Take a look for yourself.”

  He tugged down the collar of his blood-stained shirt, revealing a small tattoo of a black leopard slinking and snarling down his collarbone. It had a tribal look to it; not solid, but made of delicately and precisely interweaved lines. It was his clan tattoo. Allai had seen similar tattoos her entire life, scattered around the limbs and necks of Demons. But never one of a black leopard, because Rhaize and his sons made up the only blood of that clan.

  Allai’s stomach churned, and she resisted the urge to sprint for the door. Seeing that tattoo just confirmed how closely associated Drake was with his father, and just how entirely close she was to death. “So,” she said as calmly as possible, “the tattoo protects you? Some kind of Caedes magic?”

  Drake rolled his eyes, and she thought back to when Seph had done that earlier. But watching Drake roll his eyes was somehow different. Seeing his golden irises flash, his eyelids close for one exasperated second; it was intimidating, and made her feel like an idiot for her question. “There’s no magic. The Caedes Mages in the Keepers never wasted their powers on people like me.”

  She didn’t like the way he said the last couple of words. Like he was bitter, or maybe even holding back a growl. She looked to his lips, trying to confirm this, and saw a little twitch in the corner of his lips. He was trying not to snarl.

  Drake raised an eyebrow at her. Allai realized she was staring at him, and her cheeks got hot, and then they flushed even more when she realized she was blushing in front of him. And she was still staring at him. She quickly jerked her gaze away and pressed a hand against her cheek. She couldn’t blush. Not here. Not in front of Drake.

  The tattoo. They’d been talking about the tattoo, and she still hadn’t figured out what was so special about it. She peered at it again. If she squinted just right, she could see curved, pearly marks just above the tattoo, right at the base of Drake’s neck. They looked like… bite marks.

  “There’s more than you can see,” Drake said quietly. “Some have faded.”

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, hoping to keep her stomach contents in their place. They stayed put, but her lungs gave her away as her next breath came in shaky.

  “You…” She trailed off, realizing the back of her hand was muffling her words. Dropping the hand, she tried again in a shaking voice, “You’ve been bitten by a Persequor… before? Repeatedly?”

  Drake crossed his arms and looked to the ceiling. He didn’t seem to realize he’d taken his claws away from her neck, and Allai inched back a little. Maybe she could make it to the door, or maybe she could scream.

  No. Even though he was staring at the ceiling, his claws were still extended, and he remained in a crouched position. Ready to strike at any moment. He’d said he wouldn’t kill her, but she wasn’t very convinced, and he hadn’t said anything about not hurting her.

  “Yeah,” Drake said, and Allai remembered she was having a conversation with him. Which was just flat-out bizarre. “That Persequor who attacked you—Silas—he bit me,” Drake continued. “Fourteen times, over the course of a year and a half. A small dose at first, but a higher one each time.”

  Allai bit her lip for a moment, and then burst out, “Why?” The question came out louder than she expected, and Drake winced. But she didn’t apologize, because who in their right mind allowed a Persequor to bite them fourteen times? Better question: who came out with a right mind after fourteen bites? Nobody. Nobody could stay sane after that kind of pain.

  Drake raised an eyebrow, looking at Allai like she was the insane one. “
You’ve never heard of this?”

  “No,” Allai said. “No, Sentinel Warriors don’t usually enjoy getting bitten by Persequors. In fact, we just generally don’t enjoy Persequors at all.” She was probably taking this too far with her tone. But how else was she supposed to respond?

  Drake scoffed. Then he leaned back, sitting on the concrete floor. He had to tuck his legs close to his chest so they didn’t bump into Allai’s knees. Just how big was he? She looked him over and scooted back an inch. He was at least six-four, and all that bulk was muscle. He could probably eat her for breakfast. And he most likely wanted to, considering she was human and he was a former Keeper Demon.

  “Who says I enjoy Persequors?” Drake asked. “They’re nasty creatures. It’s why Dad had me get bit so many times. Small doses of venom won’t turn you into a Persequor, and if you’re bitten enough, it builds an immunity to large doses.”

  It took Allai a moment to realize the meaning of the word ‘Dad’. Rhaize. Rhaize was the one who had put Drake through the immunity process, and it really was no wonder. Only a psychopath like him would allow his son to go through that kind of pain so many times.

  “Immunity,” Allai repeated. “So… That’s why you’re not a Persequor now?”

  Drake nodded and slowly retracted his claws.

  “But you were paralyzed,” Allai said, shaking her head. “You were shaking and everything.”

  Drake nodded again, this time more slowly, like he was explaining something to a toddler. “Yeah. The immunity isn’t true immunity. It just helps me to resist the change. Silas is stronger than most Persequors, and he gave me a large dose…” He trailed off and shrugged.

  It’d been close. Allai stared at Drake, trying to decipher the expression on his face. He’d almost been changed, and almost lost his emotions. But Drake didn’t look like he’d just had a brush with a catastrophe. He looked cool and collected, still lounging on the floor with that little smirk lifting his lips. But then she noticed that his breaths hadn’t stopped their shallow, rapid pace.

  “You’re still weak,” Allai said.

  Drake growled. But he swallowed it back mid-growl, and said through gritted teeth, “Just a little bit. I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

  She nodded. This was getting downright weird. She was just sitting there with Drake Rhaize lounging a foot away from her. It’d almost have been better if he’d pressed his claws to her neck again, because even if it was terrifying, it was natural. And that’s what they were: Natural enemies.

  “So…” She trailed off and inched back a little more. Now was the time. She’d talked enough, and now she had to see if it had paid off at all. “Are you going to let me go?”

  Drake scoffed, and she wondered if that was his version of a laugh. It sounded kind of close, but not quite. It was too cynical. “Let you go? Do you think I’m crazy, little Nox?”

  “I was hoping.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “So then what are you going to do with me?” Her voice came out in a whisper, and Allai winced at the weakness of it. She wasn’t supposed to be weak. ‘Weakness only suits the dead.’ was what Shieldak had always told her.

  Drake shrugged and went back to biting his lip. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do. Wait for someone to come down here? Tell them I’ll let you live if I get to go free? I’ll work something out.”

  The way he nonchalantly contemplated her fate made Allai stop breathing. But then she forced in a shuddering breath. She couldn’t let him see that he was getting to her.

  Then there was a flash of claws, and her vision was once again black.

  Chapter Eight

  Allai gasped and tried to see something—anything—through the blackness. She couldn’t. Had she fainted again? Damn it, she couldn’t do that, not here and not now.

  Then she felt something soft brush against her forehead, and she realized it wasn’t unconsciousness causing the darkness. It was Drake’s shirt.

  She blinked a couple times, trying to decipher what had happened. He must have yanked her up from the ground, and now he had her pressed against his chest, her back to the door. His arm was wrapped around her waist and holding her off the ground. She shrieked, but he just clapped a hand over her mouth, leveraging her jaw up so she couldn’t bite at him.

  Drake’s other hand went to her neck, pressing his claws against her fragile skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want to do this, and I swear I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to get out of here, okay? So, please, just be quiet and don’t move.”

  She ignored him. Her feet dangled a couple inches off the ground, and she kicked at his legs to make him drop her. He lowered her a little so her feet could barely touch the ground.

  The dungeon door opened. She couldn’t see it, but she heard its hinges squeak and footsteps enter the basement dungeon. Then, after a moment, a voice breathed, “Son of a bitch.”

  She recognized the voice as Luke’s. Of course. She should have counted that he’d come looking for her. Luke always knew when she got into trouble, like it was some uncanny sixth sense.

  “Faroh, go get help,” Luke said, just as quietly. It sounded like he’d turned from her, and Allai could only guess that Luke was talking to the guard. She heard rustling of wings as the young guard sprinted up the steps leading from the dungeon.

  “Drake,” Luke said, his voice calm and even. “Let her go.”

  He sounded closer. Allai struggled to open her mouth and punched at Drake’s chest. She needed to tell Luke to stay back. Despite being blind, it would be easy for Luke to know that Drake was holding her hostage; with Drake out of his cell, and Allai’s pounding heart pressed against his, it was really the only plausible scenario.

  But, even if Luke could figure out the situation, there was no way he could actually fight Drake. She thought back to yesterday, to the rain drizzling down on Silas’s corpse and his limp hands clutching his chest. She wouldn’t let that happen to Luke.

  Drake snarled, and Allai felt the vibrations of the sound rumble in his chest. She closed her eyes. Her jaw was starting to ache from him clamping it closed. She wished she could bite him, or maybe punch his face. But all she could do was kick at his shins. So she did that, slamming her foot into the middle of his shin again and again. He didn’t even react.

  “Allai,” Luke said, sounding a little more panicked. “Don’t upset him.”

  How did Luke always know when she was getting herself into trouble? Even in life-threatening situations? She tried to sigh, and then shrieked against Drake’s hand when he blocked it.

  “Stay away from me, viper,” Drake snapped, stepping backward. Pressed against him, Allai could feel the raw power of his muscles as they moved. She shivered; Drake was built for destruction. “I’ll kill her if you come any closer,” he warned.

  “Okay, okay,” Luke said. “Just… Bloody hell, take a deep breath. Calm down.” His accent became stronger as his panic grew.

  Drake came to a halt. “I’ll let her live if you let me go. Just get me out of here, and she’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t do that, Drake. I can’t let you go without getting myself killed,” Luke said. “I’d be an accomplice to your escape. So let’s just try to work this out.”

  Drake snarled and dug his claws deeper into Allai’s skin. They’d puncture with just a little more pressure. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

  “Let’s start at the beginning.” Luke was starting to regain his cool tone. “How’d you get out of your cell?”

  Allai winced at the question. She knew what he was really asking: Did Allai let you out? She understood the suspicion, considering all the times she’d tried to convince Luke that Drake had saved her life. But the question still hurt.

  “Your idiot guard didn’t lock the door,” Drake spat. “How else could I have gotten out?”

  “Alright,” Luke said, his tone wavering toward disbelief. “Then I guess it was our mistake. Sorr
y for that. If our guard hadn’t done that, we might not be in this situation.”

  Allai knew every word wounded Luke. Apologizing to a son of Rhaize? The one who had tried to kill her? He’d probably never regain his self-esteem.

  “Look, I don’t want to talk to you,” Drake said. “I just want to go free. So one more time: Let me go, or I’m killing her.”

  “I can’t do that,” Luke repeated. “I’d get myself killed. I’d get Allai killed.”

  “What?” Drake said.

  “I said I can’t let you go.”

  “No, what do you mean it would get her killed?”

  Luke took a deep breath and then slowly explained, “She’d also be an accomplice to your escape. An unwilling one, but still an accomplice. Most Warriors would get away with that, but not her. Allai’s a Nox. She’d be killed.”

  Drake froze. Allai could feel it; his muscles tensing, his breath catching in his throat. Then he said, “Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes alone with her. And then I’ll let her go.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Luke said.

  “No. I just want ten minutes.”

  “Why?” Luke demanded. “So you can kill her without me trying to stop you?”

  “It’s your choice,” Drake snapped. “You can leave her with me for a little bit. Or I can kill her right in front of you, right now.”

  Allai wanted to scream at Luke to not listen to him, that it was just a bluff. But Drake kept her mouth clamped shut. Then she heard Luke slowly say, “Ten minutes. That’s all. I’ll be right outside the door. If I hear something, or if you try anything, then—”

  “Just leave,” Drake snarled.

  She heard Luke take a deep breath, and then the dungeon’s door opened. Drake’s hand kept her from screaming at him to come back. The door closed, and they were alone.

  This wasn’t what she had wanted. Her heart beat wildly, and she gritted her teeth to hold back tears. She’d just wanted to come say goodbye to him, to get one last look at him before he changed. But now Drake wasn’t changing, and she might be dead in a few moments.