Scorch (Midnight Fire Series)

by Davis, Kaitlyn

  Unsure of what to do, Kira kept talking, not able to stop because every word felt like a weight lifting off of her shoulders. She wasn't alone anymore.

  "The Punishers were right. I'm dangerous. I'm falling, just like they said, and it gets worse every day it seems. And it surprises me every time, creeping up on me when I least expect it. And I don't know how to stop it or what to do. When I use my power, I feel the darkness inside of me, trying to escape. And I bit…I bit a vampire. And almost my own mother. And I would have just bitten you if you hadn't stopped me." Kira clutched her head, falling deeper into Luke's chest, "Oh God, what's happening to me? I don't trust myself, and worse, I don't trust my power, my fire, my soul…"

  Kira stopped. An ache grew in her head, pressing out from her temples and down her neck. No matter how hard she clutched her hair, the pain wouldn't go away. And she could still smell the sweetness of Luke's blood, could taste it on her tongue.

  "How is this possible?" He asked, his voice like sandpaper.

  "I don't know."

  "I thought…I thought your fire was too strong, that we only had to worry about you losing control, burning too hot…I never imagined…I didn't—when did it start?"

  "When Aldrich gave me his blood, something changed inside of me, something dark clung to my heart and I can't dislodge it," Kira paused, thinking back further, back before she met Aldrich, and sighed, "but if I'm being honest with myself, it started a while ago, when my eyes turned blue…when I killed Diana with no remorse and no regret, just satisfaction—the darkness started then, I just didn't feel it."

  "And you feel it now?" Luke asked. His blonde head lifted. His eyes squinted.

  Kira nodded.

  "Right now?"

  "Always," Kira said softly. Even if it was under control, Kira sensed the sticky black tar hiding in her heart, waiting there for the next opportune moment. "It's one of the reasons I had to leave Sonnyville, there were too many conduits."

  "What do you mean?"

  She swallowed. Was this the point of no return or had they already passed it?

  "Conduit blood," Kira paused when Luke's hand squeezed her arm, almost painfully, "it's the most unbelievable…the most taunting…the sweetest—when I lose control, it's all I can think about."

  "And that's why you bit me?"

  Kira nodded.

  "Is it why you…" Luke took a deep, unsteady breath, and closed his eyelids for a moment, thinking. "Is it why you kissed me?"

  Kira's eyes widened in shock. "Luke, of course not," she cupped his cheeks with her hands, "I swear, I wanted that, me, Kira."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  Kira kept hold of his face, urging Luke to believe her. All she had wanted to do tonight was let Luke know that she wanted to be with him, that Tristan wasn't in the picture anymore, but instead she only made him doubt her further. What could she do to make him believe her?

  "Luke, I lo—"

  He put his pointer finger to her lip, quieting her.

  "Not yet, not like this," he said, pain etched in the roughness of his voice, "I've been waiting a long time to hear you say that, and I don't want anything to taint it."

  She nodded slowly, fighting her uncertainty.

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  Kira laughed under her breath. The situation was anything but funny, but could he hear himself?

  He raised his eyebrow, waiting.

  "Luke, why do you think? You're freaking out."

  "I am not, I'm…digesting."

  "Also known as freaking."

  "Well, I'm sorry," he said sarcastically, "this is a lot of information for a guy to get all at once. First you kiss me, then you kidnap me, then you kiss me again, then you try to kill me. The signals are getting a little crossed."

  "I didn't try to kill you," Kira rolled her eyes, "it was a little nip, some people would find it sexy."

  "Some people don't hunt vampires for a living…"

  "Luke—"

  He lifted her around the waist and set her next to him on the sand before standing up. "I need to think," he said and started walking around her in circles. Kira fell back on the ground, not caring that the sand would be stuck in her hair. Looking up at the stars, she began to count the number of times Luke walked around and into her line of vision.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  She yawned. This was better than counting sheep.

  Four.

  Five.

  Kira waited for number six but it didn't come. She couldn't hear footsteps either. Lifting her body up, Kira scanned the horizon, finding Luke silhouetted against the crashing waves, closer to the surf.

  "No," he said suddenly, spinning around.

  "No, what?" Kira asked, cocking her head to the side as he speedily approached.

  "No," he said again, shaking his head. His hands were balled into fists as he passed her and made for the boardwalk ten feet behind Kira.

  She quickly stood and chased after him.

  "Where are you going?"

  "I refuse to let this happen," he said firmly, shouting over his shoulder rather than pausing to turn around.

  "You can't stop it," Kira said sadly.

  "I can," he urged, "because there is no way in hell that I am finally going to get you, just to watch you turn into a vampire and lose you—there is just no way that is happening. I won't allow it."

  "Luke," Kira sighed. Her insides felt all mushy after his sweet words—totally macho and unrealistic words, but sweet all the same.

  "No, Kira, there has got to be something we can do."

  "Luke, there's nothing. I checked the papers my grandfather gave me, the ripped out pages, they didn't say anything about this. I can feel this thing growing inside of me all the time. It won't stop."

  He stopped walking, spinning around so fast that Kira ran right into his chest.

  "Who are you right now?" He was incredulous.

  "Huh?"

  "Where is Kira? Where's my best friend? She would never just give up and let this happen without a fight."

  "I," Kira started but stopped. He was right. What was she doing?

  "Your parents!" His entire face lit up with the idea. Luke clutched her shoulders, shaking her a little. "Your parents, they have to know something."

  "My dad doesn't even know I'm a conduit," Kira said slowly, trying to understand.

  "No," Luke shook his head, widening his eyes with exasperation, "your birth parents. Your dad was a Punisher. The first time you used your powers, he must have suspected this might happen, he must have known the legends."

  "My birth parents…" Kira said slowly, her brain going haywire with new ideas suddenly taking life. Maybe there was a cure…some sort of solution. But Luke wasn't waiting for her to catch up.

  "The original conduits, the angels the Punishers speak of all the time, they changed themselves, they figured it out. There's got to be a way." Luke spun again, walking briskly toward the car.

  Kira raced to catch up, running toward the car, but a thought stopped her in her tracks.

  "Pavia," Kira said. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  "What?" Luke asked. He was next to his pick up truck, holding the passenger side door open for her.

  "Pavia has all of my mother's memories," Kira said, slowly raising her gaze to meet Luke's excited and flaming eyes, "if my parents knew anything—"

  "Pavia will know," he said cutting her off. "Give me the keys."

  Kira tossed them toward him. He caught them in one graceful move before hopping into the driver's seat.

  "Call her," he said, turning on the ignition.

  Kira felt the engine rumble to life beneath her—somehow it gave her hope.

  "Tell her we need to talk immediately."

  Chapter Nine

  Kira raced through the front door of Luke's house, not even pausing to say hello to a shocked Tristan before yelling out, "Pavia?"

  No answer. Shoot.
/>   Luke strolled through a few seconds later, much calmer.

  "Is everything alright?" Tristan asked, sitting up straighter on the couch. A history textbook was open on his lap.

  "Yeah," Kira said, taking off her shoes and falling into the open spot next to him, "we just have a few questions to ask Pavia."

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Nope," Kira look at him forcing out a strained smile, "but thanks for asking."

  "Of course," he said, taking her hand. The warmth felt strange to Kira, so she stood up, slipping out of his grasp.

  "Anyone want something while we wait? I'm making some coffee."

  "Make that two," Luke said, looking away from the window he was staring at.

  "Tristan?"

  "If you have any tea…"

  "Sure thing," Kira said and left the room. She bit her lip while searching Luke's cabinets. Her excitement was getting hard to contain. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Her parents. Of course they had to know something. But no, Kira chided and started the coffee pot, it was too early to get her hopes up.

  She put her hands palm down on the counter, stilling them against the cold stone, willing the tremble in her fingers to stop.

  Her foot started tapping instead.

  "So, what's the big emergency?"

  "Pavia!" Kira jumped, clutching at her heart. The vampire was standing in Luke's back door, waiting to be let inside. Hastily, Kira pulled at the handle. "Thank God you're here."

  "That's not something I hear very often," Pavia grinned, flipping a stray lock back over her forehead.

  The coffee pot dinged, making Kira jump again.

  "Did I hear," Luke popped his head around the corner, smiling when he saw Pavia there. "Come on into the living room," he urged, acting suddenly hospitable.

  Kira gave him a cup of coffee and followed the two of them into the other room, stopping to give Tristan his tea before taking up the same spot on the couch. Pavia and Luke sat opposite them on two chairs.

  "So what happened in the past two hours that's got you both so wired?" Pavia's eyes went to Luke's twiddling thumbs and Kira's ticking foot.

  "It's probably easier to show you," Kira said and reached her arm out, "just take a look at my most recent memory." Pavia raised her eyebrows, surprised, but brushed Kira's fingers with her own.

  Instead of a rushing vortex, there was a numbness that settled over Kira's body, a feeling like she wasn't in control of her own mind anymore. Something crawled over her skin, fuzzing up her thoughts and sending a shiver down her spine.

  Pavia pulled back.

  "Are you serious?"

  "What's going on?" Tristan asked meekly.

  "Kira here, the same Kira who promised to turn me and about a dozen other scary vampires into humans, is turning to a freaking original vampire!"

  Oh right, Kira swallowed, she had momentarily forgotten about that promise.

  "It's okay, I'll be able to turn you," she said, trying to calm Pavia down.

  "Oh really? You could barely even make out with Blondie over here before going psycho conduit."

  "She'll be able to do it," Luke pressed, "but we need your help."

  "Well, what else is new?"

  "If you want to be human, I'll make it happen, I promise," Kira said, leaning in toward the currently freaking out vampire.

  "How?"

  "We think there might be a cure," Luke said.

  "You think?"

  "This is where we need your help," Kira sighed, "I need to cash in on those memories." A little twinge of pain zapped her chest. She had been hoping for more memories of her parents, but not like this. She had wanted to enjoy them, to get to know her family, not rush through with an ulterior motive.

  "What do you need to see?"

  "My father was a Punisher, we think maybe he always knew this might happen, that maybe he knew something," Kira paused, licking her suddenly dry lips, "can you see if my mom ever talked to him about it?"

  "That's not a very strong lead," Pavia said, doubtful.

  "Please," Luke lifted his head, looking at the vampire—a hint of desperation edged into his words, a slightly lost look leaked into his fiery eyes. "Please, it's all we have."

  Pavia met his look, hesitating, before releasing a huge exhale and shaking her head. "Jeez, when did I become such a softie? I need my vampire mojo back."

  "So you'll help?" Kira asked.

  She blew her ebony bangs from her forehead. "Yes, I'll help. But you better be able to turn me human when all of this is over, because this whole compassionate thing doesn’t work so well in my world."

  "Done," Kira said, pursing her lips to keep from grinning like a little girl. She flicked her eyes to Luke, who was already staring at her, beaming like the sun itself. Warmth flowed through the bond, sinking into her limbs, filling her with hope. It wasn't over, not yet.

  "You two are sickening," Pavia said while standing up, "give me a minute to see if I can find anything."

  Kira nodded absently, not breaking contact with Luke. Why hadn't she told him earlier? Of course he would know what to do, he had this way of solving all of her problems.

  "Kira?" A soft voice asked.

  Tristan, Kira thought, crap. She had totally forgotten he was there. How horrible was she?

  "I'm sorry," she looked at him, reading the confused wrinkles in his face, the slight squint to his warm, questioning brown eyes. "God, we should have explained this to you before we told Pavia anything. It's just…"

  What could she say? It's just that he didn't understand anymore? It's just that he didn't belong in this world anymore? It's just that she didn’t know how to talk to him anymore?

  "I don't want you to worry about me," Kira settled on that, "you have enough on your plate already."

  "Worrying about you feels sort of natural," he said, the hint of a smile on his lips. Kira rolled her eyes. That was so…Tristan. But it was nice at the same time, nostalgic almost.

  "You don’t have to," she squeezed the hand next to hers on the couch, "I have this odd feeling that maybe everything will work out," she flicked her eyes to Luke quickly, "for all three of us." Kira glanced at Pavia, still pacing behind the couch. Maybe it would work out for all four of them, if Kira could keep it together long enough.

  Pavia stopped walking.

  "I might have found something—"

  "What?" Kira interrupted, her eagerness getting the best of her.

  Pavia gave her a pointed look—it seemed to say please shut up. "Am I showing both of you or just Kira?"

  "Me."

  "Both of us."

  Luke and Kira spoke at the same time.

  Pavia glanced at her, smirking. Whoops, Kira thought and coughed. "Uh, both of us."

  "Let's do this, then."

  Kira nodded and so did Luke. Tristan picked his book up again, and though it hurt Kira not to include him, this wasn't his life anymore. Or she hoped it soon wouldn't be.

  Pavia scooted her chair over and put her hands out. Locking eyes, Kira and Luke reached out at the same time, completing the bond.

  And like the last time Kira had connected with her mother's memories, instead of falling, she felt as though she were floating, drifting calmly down like a feather in a spring breeze. It was a gentle process. The thoughts welcomed her, sensed that she was family, that maybe she was meant to be there.

  Rainbows danced before her, blurring Luke's living room and kaleidoscoping her vision. Cool and warm colors mixed together with no rhyme or reason, twisting and turning through a slowly moving prism, until slowly the blue drifted to the peripheral, disappearing entirely. The greens faded next, leaking slowly from Kira's vision. The reds and oranges softened to a dark umber and the purples shifted to an ebony black. The yellow stayed bright and vibrant, flickering before her almost like a…and suddenly Kira was there, revisiting her mother in the only way she ever would…

  Fire, it always came down to fire. The fire sparking in the hearth of their small concealed
cabin, the flames just minutes ago dancing on her palm, or the ones she knew were hiding inside of the little baby girl asleep on her chest. Everything in her world always seemed to come down to fire.

  Three days—her world had changed exponentially in such a short amount of time. But she was home, because their little cabin in the woods finally felt like a home to her, now that her newly born daughter was there, resting on her chest, making this whole life seem real for the first time.

  "Lana?"

  "Shh," she called softly to her husband Andrew, "I think she might be asleep." Her daughter's tiny little eyes were closed, her almost impossibly small hand had loosened its hold and was now resting softly on her mother's chest, right next to her heart.

  Three days ago, this baby was inside of her. But now she was here, breathing, smiling, squirming. It was all real—all of those dreams.

  Andrew footsteps thudded against the wooden floors of their small home. Even in socks, her husband wasn't great at being quiet. But the thought triggered a different memory, of the first time they met, causing a little grin to crease her lips.

  He sat down next to her on the couch, dipping the cushion with his added weight. Their baby stirred, shifting slightly in her mother's arm before stilling once more.

  Deep grooves cut into Andrew's forehead, making him look older than the young man she had married just a few months before. Then again, life had moved along very quickly for the two of them, faster than was really fair, but she wouldn’t change a thing.

  She shifted slightly, making sure not to distress the baby, and leaned into his solid chest.

  "No change?" He whispered. She shook her head. No change—their baby still didn't show signs of having powers, no fire spilled from her adorable little fingers. But she sensed that it was only a matter of time, that their daughter was stronger than either of them realized.

  "Good," he sighed. A little prick of pain pinched her chest to hear him say it. "Everything will be easier this way, we won't have to hide."

  No, she thought, we won't have to hide from our people, but if our daughter doesn’t have powers, won't we have to hide from her? She would rather run from the conduits for the rest of her life than hide their heritage from the little girl sleeping in her arms. Maybe it was a mother's dream, but she didn’t want secrets to stain their family.