Scorch (Midnight Fire Series)

by Davis, Kaitlyn

  Aldrich raised his brows, confused, pausing for a moment as the smell of her untainted blood drifted into his senses. He hesitated, dropping Luke an inch.

  And Kira attacked.

  Flames soared from her palms, blasting into Aldrich so hard that his feet lifted and he flew backwards, smacking the ground with his burnt and bald skull. Surprise was etched into his features.

  But Kira couldn't stop. Already she felt the life fading, felt her fire flicker. Her body was running on adrenaline, so she pounced, jumping free of the wall to land on Aldrich's chest.

  Her fire sunk into his skin, burning already charred flesh. And he was weak. Her powers had sapped his strength. His eyes were glazed over, unfocused from the heavy fall he had just taken.

  Kira pressed on, wrapping her hands around his neck, focusing all of her strength on that single spot. Her fingers burned, the lava pouring through her veins was starting to hurt, but she didn’t pay attention to that. Her eyes scanned Aldrich's face, at the cracks spreading along his features, at the life leaving his black eyes.

  It was almost over.

  A branch flew from the trees, bumping into her arm, but it was barely a nudge, barely strong enough for Kira to feel let alone be hurt by.

  Another hit her back.

  Kira remained where she was.

  The blood from her wrist poured over Aldrich's melting skin, dying it red, mixing with the charcoal flaking off of his neck.

  Her fire was starting to slow. But not from the shadows—not from the darkness, which had disappeared. Her life was leaking away and her power was going with it.

  Kira's vision started to spot.

  She blinked. Not yet, she urged, hold on just a little longer.

  Pushing one last time, Kira felt her power surge. The unstoppable mix of Punisher and Protector sunk into Aldrich.

  And it worked.

  Her fire severed his neck, melting his flesh away, burning bone so severely that it cracked in half. His eyes widened, realizing his death was inevitable. He was frozen in place as the shadow crept up his neck, a wave of darkness that wasn't vampirism, but was ash—the smoke of his skin flaking away into nothing.

  Kira dropped a few inches, landing on the ground with a thud.

  Aldrich was gone.

  He was finally gone.

  Kira had won. But at what price, she wondered, rolling to the side. The blackness had left her body, and for the first time in ages her fire felt pure, untainted. Her skin felt exactly like her own.

  But even that awareness was fading.

  "Kira?" Luke's voice filled her ears. Her heart lifted. She would get to say goodbye.

  Shuffling feet. Clothes scraping asphalt. And then a hand touched her cheek, a warm hand, hot against her cooling skin.

  She was lifted, moved so her head rested on his lap. Kira looked into his fiery eyes, at the emerald green around the edges, adoring how they glowed with love.

  "You did it," he said, his voice filled with awe, "you killed Aldrich. We won." He wiped his thumb along her cheek, brushing away the tears. Confusion clouded over as she remained silent. He scanned her face, looking for injuries, moving down her body, searching for the problem, and then he froze, eyes widening in horror.

  "Kira, what did you do?" He cursed, begging for an explanation.

  Using the last bits of her strength, Kira raised her palm to his cheek, catching the tears that were falling. He had to understand.

  "I saved you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "I saved you all from me."

  "We found a cure, there was another way." He shook his head. His lips wavered and the body below her head trembled.

  "No," Kira sighed, "there wasn't. But Luke?"

  He nodded.

  "I wish there had been. Because I do love you."

  "I love you too," he told her, voice cracking. And then he leaned down, planting a soft kiss upon her lips.

  Her vision began to fade. The world around her seemed to evaporate until all she saw was Luke. His features hardened, the word 'no' danced across his lips.

  She felt him lift her, felt the pull of gravity as she sagged in his arms. He carried her, placing her gently down, running to the side.

  Kira felt the rumble of the car.

  He was speaking to her. She couldn’t hear the words he was saying, but it was okay. She kept looking at him, drinking him in until her heavy lids fell shut.

  But it wasn't dark or empty or void behind her closed eyes, because with death so close, there was nothing for Kira but her dreams. The world had disappeared. There were no smells, no sounds, no sights to take in except those her mind created.

  So she dreamed of the life she could have had. The one she wanted to have if things had been different.

  Instead of finding her on the ground, lying there like a fading memory, Luke would have turned to see Kira standing over him, waiting for him. He would have stood and she would have leapt into his arms, overjoyed at their victory. He would have spun her around, laughing together so blissfully that nothing could outshine them.

  And they would have lived together, happily ever after—joking together, bickering with each other, kissing fights away, making memories—they would tease each other mercilessly but would always know that at the base of it there was love. And not the kind of love built on lust, not the kind that eventually puttered out. But real love, the kind of love built on something stronger, built on knowing that you could bare your soul to another person and he would do the same. The sort of the love that brightened the world around you, making everything better because you knew your best friend would also be your forever.

  Kira let the dream fill her as she traveled back to the place she had been only an hour before, into the heart of her fire, into her core.

  The world around her was in flames, but it wasn't scary. It was her power keeping her safe, keeping her warm, reassuring her that even though her life was over, it wasn't the end of everything.

  But most of all, it wasn't scary because Luke was there, arm draped over her shoulder, pulling her in close, telling Kira she would never be alone, that they would be together forever.

  Kira listened to his words. She let the devotion in his voice roll over her. She let herself believe in him, in them, in herself.

  They kissed and her mind was filled with love. It tingled down her senses—a warm golden glow that made life and even death taste sweeter.

  And without her realizing it, her soul split. The Punisher fire drifted away, evaporating into the heat of their love.

  For the first time in her short life, Kira was at peace, wrapped soothingly in her dreams.

  But after a while, even the dreams faded away.

  Epilogue

  Lana Peters stepped out of the car as quickly as her old body would allow. Two Protector Councilmen followed after, quiet and stoic, more like bodyguards than a greeting crew. So Lana smiled for the lot of them, forcing her cheeks to widen even though her wrinkled hands shook.

  It was hard to let old fears go, too hard for most of the town. But Lana knew, from her daughter and from her granddaughter, that some rules needed to be broken and some traditions needed to fade into past.

  Which was why she had volunteered to welcome the dozen or so vampires standing in a straight line just beyond the wall. Without them, the battle would have lasted far longer. Without them, many more conduit lives would have likely been lost. Without them, her own husband, who believed himself to be twenty years younger than he really was, might have fallen.

  She smiled softly to herself, picturing him. He did not want her in this role, but what else could the wife of the Head Councilman do? The grandmother of the very girl who promised these vampires their lives back? It was her duty, the least she could do. Kira would have wanted nothing else.

  "Welcome," Lana called, strengthening her voice from its normal dainty singsong, "We have turned the wall off. You are free to come in, as friends."

  All of the vampires looked at each other, quick s
idelong glances that were hard for Lana to follow with her old, human eyes. But she did notice the bright blue hue to their irises—a color that matched the sunny, cloudless sky.

  And then one broke free from the line, approaching the wall guardedly. She was a girl with long, flowing black hair who looked no older than twenty to Lana. Too young to be so mature. And right behind her was a boy that Lana did recognize—Tristan. A visitor in their town only a few days before, who looked rather nervous himself.

  "Hello Lana Peters," the vampire spoke, "I'm Pavia. I think Kira," she paused, swallowed, "I mean Luke probably mentioned me."

  "Yes, of course, I've heard about you. So nice to finally meet you in person." She nodded slightly, an old-fashioned woman-to-woman handshake.

  Pavia shrugged and grinned. "So, should we get this party started? One-way road to mortality and all that jazz?"

  Lana coughed, hiding a laugh for the benefit of the stodgy Councilmen at her side, "Yes, of course. Please take a seat in the car behind this one and we will take you to the town square."

  "Perfect," she turned around, speaking to her own people, "alright everyone, you heard the woman. Keep those fangs securely locked away." She turned again, grabbing Tristan's hand and tugging him along, speaking into his ear. The boy visibly relaxed, and walked with Pavia ahead of the other vampires.

  Lana eased back into her car with a little help from the two conduits next to her. And then the cars started moving, making their way back into the only home Lana had ever known. She was born in Sonnyville, met her husband here, raised her child here. Her house held the stories of her life. The shelf her husband had accidentally hung crooked, the old chair her father had made for them as a wedding gift, the spot where her daughter had taken her first little baby steps, the spot where she had taken her last.

  Never in that life were vampires in her little town. It was a safe haven, an oasis from the threat of vampires, and having them here did feel somehow wrong. But also right at the same time, she thought. Because more than anything, her life was about trying to protect people—from vampires, from hardships, from heartache. And now Protectors would be able to protect lost souls in the way they were originally created to do—her granddaughter Kira had been right about that.

  But not everyone agreed, Lana thought, looking around at the homes they were driving past. Half were empty, their patrons gathered at the town square to celebrate what had been a victorious battle and now a victorious new future for conduits to step into. But half were full of curious eyes staring out the window and of children locked tightly in their rooms. Half were resistant and doubtful, stuck in their ways.

  Lana reached her heavy arm out, pressing the window down, still marveling that the push of a button was all it took—quick and easy. In a world of so much technology, it seemed only right for her people to finally start advancing too.

  She waved hello to all of the families still huddled inside their homes, trying to let them know that there was nothing to fear.

  Before long, a sea of blond heads came into view, her people—a good portion of them—gathered in the town square, waiting for their guests.

  The driver pulled over and opened her door, giving Lana a helping hand as she stepped free of the car. She motioned for him to open the door of the other car as well. Pavia stepped out first, to the gasp of the entire village, but she seemed unaffected and strode toward Lana.

  Such gusto, Lana smiled, this vampire almost reminded her of Kira, the confidence and strength.

  Her smile wavered, cracked. She took a deep breath and began shuffling her tired feet toward the dais, toward the comforting presence of her husband. Based on the stares of the conduits she ambled past, the vampires were following.

  Just short of the steps, Lana stopped, signaling her guests to continue. The Council platform was not her place. Her place was the empty chair a few steps away, the one she had been sitting in for half of her life while she watched her husband work. So she sat, and tuned out the speech she had all but memorized the evening before. Instead, she let the baritone voice she loved relax her as she looked around at her people.

  Some were afraid. Some were hopeful. Some wary. Some excited.

  Her gazed moved farther up, toward the seven men in their fanciest suits sitting mightily on their thrones—a sign of strength for the new, potentially rough road ahead. In the middle, her husband, fanned by some of their closest friends. But those weren't the faces Lana was searching for.

  To the left of her Council, still sitting but on smaller chairs, were eight red haired men. Seven made up the Punisher Council and the last was Noah, the man who had come to testify against Kira, who had argued to end her life. His face was composed, hard to read, but she wondered what he was thinking now.

  Lana's gaze shifted to the right, and her heart slipped a little, sagged even more than the normally heavy heart of someone who had lived so long, endured too much. Luke was standing beside the thrones, alone, hands clenched behind his back. His face was impassive, too melancholic for such a young, healthy, vibrant man. His eyes were red, puffy from long days spent in a similar fashion to Lana's—crying.

  Blinking away new tears, Lana focused on her husband again. His speech was coming to a close.

  "this great new day. And so, we venture forward together—once enemies and now allies, trying to find the solution my granddaughter sought to provide. Pavia," he gestured to the vampire and she stepped forward, "has been brave enough to volunteer, to entrust her life to Luke and Noah as they try to restore her humanity according to the method Kira described before," he paused, his shoulders hunched an inch, "before the hard won battle a few days ago."

  Lana, like the rest of the town, turned her attention to Pavia. Her skin was pale, pearly in the sunlight, and her eyes glowed a stark blue that jumped from her face. Her smile was easy, but Lana saw the catch in her throat, the tense rigidity in her body. And it humanized the vampire. She was nervous, as anyone would be to experiment with his or her life, even a life that had been lived far longer than nature intended.

  Pavia continued to step forward. The town remained so quiet that even Lana's old ears heard the click of shoes on wood. The vampire paused, and then let her body sink into the lounge chair waiting in the center of the platform.

  Luke walked forward first, leaning down to say something to the girl, something that made her stiff body relax. She moved fast, so that her hand was just a blur, but Lana knew what occurred. The vampire had reached out to squeeze Luke's hand, to return the comforting favor.

  Noah joined the two, completely the trio, and the entire town breathed in.

  Flames erupted on Luke's palms.

  His hand shifted forward, closing in on the vampire's skin.

  Pavia flinched.

  "Stop!"

  And everyone obeyed.

  Like statues, no one moved. And then, shocked, the sea of blond shifted together, focusing all of their attentions on the source of that command.

  Lana's breath caught.

  Standing there at the top of the square was the exact replica of her daughter, of her baby girl Lana, almost at the same age as the last time she had seen her. Stick straight blond hair, tanned skin, green flaming eyes, tall and proud stance.

  But it wasn't Lana, it was not a ghost come back to haunt, it was Kira. A one hundred percent Protector Kira.

  A grin spread across Lana's face, shifting wrinkles, bringing youth back to her features.

  Kira was alive.

  Her granddaughter was alive.

  "Really? You guys started without me? One little coma," Kira paused, cocking her hip to the side, "well, I guess that was technically my second coma, but come on, it's only been a few days. Way quicker than last time."

  Still the image of her mother to Lana, Kira strode forward, all attitude. "You're acting like I'm dead. No faith," she shook her head, and then she stopped, a smile breaking through the chiding façade.

  And Lana knew why as feet thudded loudly down the st
eps behind her and a body flew into her vision.

  Before Kira could say another word, Luke was there, lifting her up, spinning her around, kissing her. Their reunion was full of so much joy, so much happiness that it brightened the world around them, cascaded around the square like a surge of power. Laughter rained down on the crowd, infectious, bringing smiles to the faces of every conduit there.

  Lana looked away, letting the couple share a few moments without scrutiny. Her eyes searched for those of her husband, and found them alight, proud. His eyes shifted, met Lana's, and in that second, it was like their entire lives flashed between them, and they knew that somehow, it was all meant to be. Everything their family had endured, it was all meant to be.

  Hands clutched fiercely together, Kira and Luke walked back into view, moving as one toward the platform.

  Pavia was out of her chair, waiting for them, arms crossed.

  "Cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

  "What, you didn’t trust me?" Luke teased and Pavia just raised her eyebrow.

  "With good reason," Kira drawled, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. He just hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. Kira protested, but Lana knew her granddaughter, and there was no real fight in her body as she leaned into that kiss.

  Behind them, her husband coughed, urging the children to move a little quicker, and Lana laughed quietly to herself—so much personality for one little wooden stage to contain.

  Pavia returned to her seat, sitting a little taller this time, with a little more confidence. Luke moved to stand next to Noah.

  Kira shifted her gaze and Lana followed it to Tristan. He was watching her politely and inclined his head in hello. Kira lifted one corner of her lip, sad but happy at the same time, and greeted him the same way. Then Tristan's eyes shifted, returning to Pavia, and Kira nodded to herself, satisfied, before walking over next to Luke.

  "Ready?" She asked Pavia. The vampire nodded.

  Luke brought a flame to his palm, the fire caught Lana's eyes, but Kira pushed his hand to the side. His brows furrowed.