Singing Fire

by T. L. Martin

  Something sparked in Desmond’s eyes.

  “Charlie–” he started to say something but quickly stopped short. His attention shifted to the lighthouse.

  I was about to ask what he was looking at, when the subtle coolness in my spine quickly transformed into a sharp, biting frost that slithered up my neck. I shivered. This could only mean one thing: another vampire.

  When I started to take a step forward, Desmond flew in front of me. With his body so close that it was nearly pressed against my own, he locked his commanding blue eyes on mine. The smooth lines of his lips slowly mouthed the words: don’t move.

  Before I could respond, he was gone.

  I stood frozen in place for a moment, my feet glued to the ground and my breath quickening. It wasn’t until I heard a loud crash from across the river that I realized where Desmond had gone. The lighthouse.

  Something sounded from behind me, making me jump back. But when I turned to look, nothing was there. Just miles of wet sand, salty waves and howling wind, joining together to taunt me. Another sharp crash escaped from the lighthouse, and I crept forward for a better look. Standing as close to the river as I could get without falling in, I narrowed my eyes, peering at the other side. Their movements, impossibly fast, were hardly more than a blur.

  My options were clear: stay put, like a sitting duck in a hunter’s pond, or take action.

  I removed my sweatshirt and abandoned it in the sand, bracing myself for the river’s forceful waters.

  Ice cold fingers suddenly interrupted my step forward, wrapping themselves carefully around my neck. I shot my hands up and clawed at the assailant’s grip, but I was no match for his strength. Even my sharp kick to his groin seemed to go hardly noticed. His hungry eyes, black with specks of dark red, twinkled beneath silvery blond hair as he watched me struggle for air. My weakened fingers began to slip, unwillingly loosening their grip.

  The vampire released one of his hands from my neck, cocking his head to the side and licking his lips. He opened his mouth, laser sharp fangs preparing to strike when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow. It was Desmond, dragging two limp, severely deformed bodies behind him.

  Within a fraction of a second, he’d dropped the bodies and his hands were clasped around the attacker’s head, immediately snapping his neck and bringing him lifelessly to the ground.

  I gasped loudly for air, grasping unbelievably at my bruised neck with both hands. Desmond removed his thick coat and wrapped it around me, then swooped me up into his arms in one fluid motion. I looked up at him, but he did not meet my gaze. He departed from the river with me in hand and took off at a steady pace down the deserted, fog ridden beach.

  I could feel my body pressed against the sturdy lines of his own. And I felt oddly safe in the embrace.

  My eyes flitted closed, and anger began to fuel in my mind. How many more times would I need to be rescued, too helpless to protect myself? I despised this powerlessness, leaving me so dependent on others—a feeling I was not at all accustomed to.

  CHAPTER SIX: UNUSUAL COMPANY

  We made it one block from my house before I mustered up the strength to peel my body from his grip. After helping me balance myself, Desmond backed up a few inches, giving me some space.

  I was shaken, to say the least, and my neck felt stiff with soreness. But I was capable enough to walk on my own.

  My feet were heavy below my aching bones, making the walk back take longer than usual. When I passed by Ray’s familiar, outdated house, I wasn’t expecting to find my note still sticking halfway out from beneath the door. I was already worried, and that didn’t help. My keys jingled in the lock, and I swung my door open, leaving it ajar.

  Desmond followed in after me, locking the door behind him. I was surprised to see him come inside this time and wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it. Though I couldn’t ignore the part of me that felt a little safer seeing him there.

  I arduously made my way into the kitchen and, with shaky hands, began filling my aunt’s coffee pot with water. Though I didn’t ordinarily drink the stuff as often as I had been lately, it seemed a better choice than tea given the circumstances.

  “You should rest,” Desmond instructed, propping himself against the dining room table.

  I proceeded to scoop the coffee beans, my eyes in a haze as I still struggled to process all that had just happened. Even now, the strain from the vampire’s grip around my neck was present, throbbing against the fresh bruises.

  “That’s probably the last thing I’d be able to do right now,” I quietly responded.

  I started the coffee and made my way over to the sofa, plopping myself down with a soft thump.

  “How did they know about me? It was like he wasn’t even after the Opal,” I whispered, curling my legs under me. “He just wanted to...kill me.”

  The coffee machine sounded, and Desmond headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a mug and filled it up.

  “Cream?” he asked. It was strange, hearing such a normal question come from a vampire’s lips—especially in the intense way he always spoke.

  I shook my head. I hadn’t been drinking coffee for long enough to know just how I liked it yet. Previously, I might have sweetened it up a bit, but right now black seemed like a good way to go…bitter enough to fit the circumstances and sharp enough to keep me on my toes.

  He set the steaming mug in my hands and sat on the recliner beside me. Sitting up so proper, he looked out of place in the worn chair. He briefly closed his eyes and ran both hands through his disheveled, dark hair. If it was possible for a vampire to be tired, I would have guessed he was at that instant. He pursed his lips together and balled his hand into a tight fist, a frightening spark flashing through his eyes.

  No, this was not weariness. It was anger.

  “Those vampires,” he finally said. His voice was soft and controlled despite the fiery look in his eyes. “They weren’t themselves. They didn’t know what they were doing.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “They were under someone else’s control. Likely an entire coven. It takes a lot more than a single, ordinary witch to successfully hold a spell on a vampire, let alone a group of them. It’s almost unheard of, mostly because a lot can go wrong when it’s attempted—as you saw tonight.”

  I sipped my black coffee as though it were water, letting the hot liquid warm my stomach and waiting anxiously for it to kick in.

  “They sure looked like they knew what they were doing,” I muttered, recalling the blood lust in their eyes.

  He shook his head in disagreement.

  “I know two of them. Florina and Nikolai. Like me, they prefer to be left alone. They would never have gone up against me on their own volition, nor willingly have operated in a group attack...following along blindly like a herd of sheep.” He spat the last part out, just barely maintaining control of his voice. “Not even to get to the Opal.”

  He rose from the chair, his right fist still clenched as he slowly flicked through the photos lining the bookshelf. “They’ll wake shortly, remembering nothing. And they’ll regain full control of themselves when they do.”

  “They’ll wake from that?” I repeated, unable to hide the disbelief from my voice.

  He glanced back at me with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. “We’re vampires, remember? It takes a lot more than a few broken bones to kill us.”

  For the first time, a definite smile appeared on his handsome face. It was slow and crooked, lifting only one side of his perfect lips, and—despite my instincts screaming for me to ignore it—the sight was utterly disarming. I slipped my hands beneath my legs and glanced away to calm the unwelcome flutters in my stomach.

  “How long have you been...like this?” I asked.

  When I returned my gaze to him, Desmond was still looking at me. The ferocity in his blue eyes was more piercing than ever, and his smile had already faded back into the solid, tight line I was growing so familiar wit
h.

  “Since the winter of 1884.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful. He turned back to the bookshelves, picking up a photo from the top ledge.

  “That’s a long time,” I whispered, thinking back to his proper manner of speaking and the old-fashioned chivalry.

  I rose from the sofa and peeked around him to get a better look at the picture he held. It was me at five years old, caught mid-laughter as I watched my father twirl a half-broken kite around me and my mother.

  “I never did get to fly that kite. It broke completely before I got the chance.”

  I could feel his eyes on me again, but I continued inspecting the old picture in his hands, tracing a finger along the kite’s border.

  “There are a lot of ‘nevers’ in my life, actually,” I murmured absentmindedly, thinking aloud.

  He peered at me curiously, and I shrugged a dismissive shoulder before gazing back down at the photo. But, still, he waited.

  “Just rambling to myself,” I explained.

  When his expectant expression didn’t let up, I groaned inwardly. I wasn’t used to having company over, and usually my embarrassing habit of mindless blabbering went unanswered.

  “Um. Okay...” I was still reluctant to elaborate but decided to just get it out of the way. “I just meant, the little things most people my age have done, at one time or another. You know. Like, food fights, picnics. Twister.” I chuckled softly at that last one.

  With no response from him, the air seemed to linger in silence. I finally tilted my head upward and met his gaze—only to find myself regretting it immediately. His unsettling eyes, so calm and collected, were watching me. But this time, they wandered slowly from my eyes, to my lips, and eventually to my neck, before finding their way back to my lips. My heartbeat quickened, and I could hear my breath thickening.

  “I should go,” he said suddenly, his voice low and gruff. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

  “Wait—” I spouted, not quite knowing why I was asking him to do so or even how to follow it up. “Thank you. For saving my life. Again,” I finally said.

  He said nothing for a moment, observing me with a look that burned into mine before looking away. “Get some sleep, Charlie.”

  Gliding toward the front door, he paused at the exit. He turned his head just slightly, prompting me to think he was going to look back and say something. But, instead, he pushed forward. The door closed with a firm click behind him.

  Satin sheets tangled themselves around my arms and legs as I tossed and turned between fitful bouts of sleep. When the daylight gently crept inside, I forced my heavy eyelids to open. They drifted to the cell phone beside me, just barely managing to make out its eight o’clock reading.

  Today was the day. The day I would officially enter their world. Where I would be expected to train in magic—a concept I was too unfamiliar with to imagine. There wasn’t much I was feeling certain of anymore, but the one thing I knew beyond a doubt was staring right at me: I was not ready.

  I dragged myself out of bed and popped into a swift shower before quickly dressing and throwing my damp hair back with a tie. Why hadn’t Ray called me yet? Or visited? I was well aware he wasn’t big on conversation, but it wasn’t like him to be so out of touch. Surely he’d have known I would worry.

  I grabbed the phone. It rang an impossibly slow four times before someone answered. “Dr. Sampson speaking.”

  “Dr. Sampson. Hi. It’s Charlie Eden. I was just wondering if Ray’s appointment went okay?”

  “Ray? Absolutely. Just the usual stuff about watching his diet, getting his walks in regularly, and all that. Issued him a clean bill of health and kicked him out of here.” Dr. Sampson chuckled at his joke. “Everything okay?”

  “Um, yeah. I’m sure it is,” I stammered. “Sorry to waste your time.”

  “No worries, Charlie.”

  We hung up, and I stared, flustered, at the phone. He was probably with Diana somewhere. She would know what was going on. I dialed her number. No answer and her mailbox was full. Come on, Diana. At the risk of seeming like an overly-obsessed neighbor, I retrieved the notepad and began jotting down a second note.

  Ray,

  Just want to make sure you’re okay. Things are fine here, but it’s not the same without you. Call me when you get this. Or, better yet, stop by.

  Love,

  Charlotte

  I set the note aside for now and checked the lock on the front door—not that a lock would do much to impede a supernatural creature from entering. But still, it was secure. I paced the living room floor slowly, chewing my lip as I took a moment to assess the situation.

  Clearly, I could no longer question whether it was the supernatural forces or my paranoia that was real. The evidence was sound. But even so, I was at a loss as to whom I could trust. My instincts, my gut, told me to trust these people. But there wasn’t enough logic to back it up. Desmond did save my life, and more than once. Though I hadn’t the slightest idea of his motive. After all, protecting me would serve him well if he wanted to use me as the Opal, wouldn’t it? For that matter, the same theory could be used on Priscilla.

  For most of my life I had listened to these same instincts, following them blindly; the ones that told me to trust. Trust in my body, in my mind, in my classmates.

  But where had that gotten me?

  If these questions had been running through my mind just one week ago, I would have undoubtedly been keeled over from the anxiety, trying to find my breath. But instead, I found myself fully alert, upright and walking, with my breathing even as could be. I supposed I had the witch who’d originally attacked me to thank for that. If it wasn’t for him, I may never have released my cooped up energy into Pixie. Though I had to wonder... How long would it last? How long would I be able to go until the next panic attack? If I worked with Pixie routinely, releasing more energy into her, could it mean never having to experience one of my spells again?

  I would still have to deal with the chills, of course, the uncomfortable sensation that liked to race icily up my back in the presence of vampires. And I had yet to really familiarize myself with the sensations demons would elicit. But at least, if I paid enough attention, I would be able to distinguish the signs of the presence of a supernatural being versus an actual panic attack. I had to admit, Desmond’s wasn’t so bad. Not like the few others I had run across so far. The coolness sat along my spine even now, and I had almost grown used to the impression.

  A knock sounded at the door, and I froze.

  “Charlie?” It was Quinn’s voice. “Are you there?”

  When I didn’t respond, her knock came a little louder.

  “Charlie...you up? I was going to walk you to the shop.”

  I was chewing on my lip again. Should I answer? Should I follow this person to the shop, for who-knows-what? I inched forward toward the door, and the floorboard creaked loudly below me. I stopped.

  “Okay...well.” Her voice was quieter now, and I wondered if she had somehow heard the noise. “Um, I heard about what happened. Last night. I’m gonna go. And you just...come by whenever you’re ready.”

  The back of her head came into view from the window as she departed down the steps, and my entire body relaxed. Not because she was gone. I wouldn’t have minded the extra company, actually. But because I wouldn’t need to feel so pressured. I could take my time.

  What do I do now?

  My eyes strayed to the closet where my aunt’s extra suitcases sat waiting to be used. I wanted to run away, even just for a few days. I could disappear somewhere along the water. Get some space, clear my head. But, truthfully, who was I kidding? Twice now I had been attacked, and twice now I hadn’t been able to defend myself. Not to mention, my chances of escaping the watch of a vampire had to be near impossible.

  So, instead, I did the next best thing. I ambled back up the stairs, dragging my feet behind me. I closed the door, shut the blinds. Crawling back into my bed, I pulled the heavy comforter over my face until my
world went dark, and I lay there in peaceful solitude until my mind finally wandered to a quiet place. There, I drifted off into my own escape, a place where the dangers and burden of my new reality could no longer haunt me.

  A high-pitched ring made me stir. I grumbled, pulling a pillow over my head. I was disappointed in how little it did to drown out the sound. Another ring came. And another. Go away. Finally it stopped, and I buried myself deeper into the blankets. I’d had only a few seconds of peace before it started up again, piercing into my eardrums. Ugh. I threw the blanket off of me and stumbled onto the ground, fumbling for the cell phone I’d left on my dresser.

  “Hello?” I groaned.

  “Charlie?” It was Aunt Stacy.

  What time was it?

  “Wait, were you sleeping?” she asked incredulously.

  “Hmm?” I needed to know the time. Where was my phone? Oh, yeah...

  “Charlie,” she repeated, more sternly this time. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. What are you doing sleeping?”

  I slumped onto my bed, rubbing a hand over my temples. I had forgotten that I actually slept deeply now. That was going to take some getting used to.

  “Um. I was just taking a nap. What’s up?”

  “You never take naps,” she said, her suspicion only increasing. “You’re not working today?”

  I paused, suddenly wondering the same thing. I hadn’t even thought about working since everything that had happened. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. What’s up, Stace?”

  “Nothing, Jeez. Now I see why you needed that nap,” she groused. “I’m in between meetings, so I just figured I’d check in.”

  I looked down at my feet. I hadn’t realized I’d snapped. “Sorry. I’m not feeling too well, I guess. So, how’s your day?”

  “It’s good!” she beamed. Apparently I was already forgiven. She lowered her voice to hardly more than a whisper. “I overheard my boss this morning, and he was saying that Nickelodeon wants to work with us again. But it gets better…their rep specifically asked for me.” I could hear the quiet, delightful shrill behind her voice. “Turns out they remembered me from a project I did with them last year, and they don’t want anyone else.”