Singing Fire

by T. L. Martin

  After saying my goodbyes, I quietly departed the shop with Desmond. The rain had just begun and was hardly more than a drizzle.

  I waited until we were well out of sight before allowing myself to look at him—I mean, really look at him.

  He was watching me in that way again, with his eyes saying everything we couldn’t, and after scanning the street to ensure no one was watching, I let my fingers grab hold of his. His hand squeezed mine in response, and I smiled. But when I glanced back at him, something had shifted. It was there in his eyes for an instant and was quickly masked by an enigmatic expression.

  The rain was pouring down now, and I stopped just as we approached a pair of full, overshadowing trees.

  “What’s going on, Desmond?” I asked quietly. My eyes inspected his flawless face for clues.

  Glancing away, he clenched his jaw. When he looked back at me, his eyes were hard. Cryptic. Gently, he dropped my hand. “We can’t do this, Charlie.”

  I hesitated, certain he was referring to something else. “What do you mean?”

  His hand was shaking slightly as he ran it through his hair, and he took a step back from me. Realizing this was no misunderstanding, my heart raced faster than I could keep up with, and I felt my legs weaken.

  “Please,” he whispered, closing his eyes briefly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  I swallowed hard. “I don’t understand. Is this because of Quinn? What did she say to you?”

  “It’s not just Quinn,” he said with a shake of his head. “There are creatures all over the world who make it their sole mission to discover and attack people like us who fall for the wrong species. It was easy to forget everything back at my house. But, in reality...”

  “So? We’ll be careful,” I argued, taking a step toward him. But he only backed away. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take, Desmond.”

  “I’m not,” he growled, making me jump slightly. His temper was rising, and he struggled to calm himself.

  I could feel myself on the brink of tears and turned away, so he couldn’t see. I knew he was right. And I knew he had the constant, painful memory of his friend, Emiliano, to remind him of the fact. But I didn’t want it to be so. We could make it work, couldn’t we? Clearly it wouldn’t always be the slice of heaven it was in the seclusion of his house, but anything would be better than nothing at all.

  “Charlie...” His husky whisper was drowned out by the rain, and I was grateful.

  Hearing his voice right now...at a time when I was more afraid of the coming days than ever, when all I wanted was to fall into him and lose myself... It was more than I could take.

  Don’t be that girl, Charlie.

  I cleared my throat before speaking to ensure a steady and controlled voice. “I get it,” I said. “Of course...you’re right.”

  I could feel him step toward me, and for a moment I thought I felt his body almost touch mine. I closed my eyes, regaining my composure before turning back around. He was watching me carefully. I wanted to ask him to stay. To demand it. But the bigger part of me fought against it.

  After a long and anguishing moment of silence, he spoke, “We should go.” His body was stiff as he distanced himself from me, shifting his gaze.

  I paused, my eyes searching discreetly for something to cling to. Any hint on his face that I could convince him to change his mind. But there was nothing. I turned away, forcing my legs to find their strength and walk me home. Gradually, I broke into a jog for the short remainder of the way. My front door slammed opened as I trudged inside, and I hardly noticed when Matt and his Guardian friends suddenly stopped mid-laugher, staring silently as I raced up the stairs.

  Closing the bedroom door behind me, I leaned back against it and slid down to the floor. A single tear defied me, streaming down my face. I quickly removed any trace of it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY: OUR LITTLE GAME

  Staggering to my feet, I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and dried off my dripping hair. I walked to the far left corner of the room, where my spare heavy bag hung beside the closet. My gloves stared at me from the floor. I left them.

  My jabs started hard, forceful. And damn if it didn’t feel good feeling my bare skin thump solidly against the bag. My legs followed suit, swinging with a controlled smoothness I prided myself in. I ignored the knock at the door when it came, working up a sweat as I poured myself into my fists with all that I had.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed when I finally broke away, wiping the damp strands of hair from my forehead. I popped into the shower, keeping it ice-cold and as brief as possible to ensure I was left with no downtime to dwell on what had just happened. I changed into a fresh t-shirt and pants.

  My bed watched me from the center of my room, trying to lure me in with the plush blankets and pillow. But I could not bring myself forward. For as much as my mind could see the logic in Desmond’s reasoning and was trying to get a grip on it, my heart was lagging sorely behind. I knew it would insist on tormenting me if I sat alone in the unbearable silence.

  Instead, I turned the knob and made my way down the stairs, careful not to disturb anyone who might be sleeping.

  Matt sat on the couch beside Kinsey, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Julien was sound asleep on the floor beside them, and I could see Dominic and Willow on the front porch, keeping diligent watch in the night. Desmond was near the house; the chill in my spine made me acutely aware of that. But I hadn’t the slightest idea where.

  “Hey, stranger,” Matt said quietly. He sounded cheerful enough, but his eyes were concerned.

  I curled into the empty sofa beside him. “Hey.”

  “Kinsey went up to check on you a while ago. You okay?”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a lot—”

  “On your mind,” he intervened with a slight smile. “I know.”

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but I quickly changed the subject.

  “Speaking of Kinsey,” I whispered. “She seems to really like you.”

  Matt peeked over at her and tried unsuccessfully to restrain his grin.

  I could only imagine what it was like for him, being able to not only hear what she was thinking but feel it, too. Though I wondered more of what that must be like for Kinsey, having everything out there in the open like that. Then again, thinking back to her batting lashes and sweet smiles toward him, she may not have minded in the least.

  “Yeah. Well, she’s not too bad herself. Did you know she’s a certified scuba diver and, like, a total pro horseback rider?” he asked with wonder. “And all these guys have been trained in magic for most of their lives.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, suddenly feeling more intrigued. I never was able to make out the incantation Priscilla used to cast that relocation spell, and I now had less than twenty-four hours to discreetly find out what it was.

  “Yup,” Matt confirmed with an impressed nod of his head. “Willow, especially. She has generations of magic behind her, on both sides of the family. I mean, I only found out who I was, like...what? Last year? A little intimidating, if you know what I mean.” He raised an eyebrow comically, and I chuckled for the first time that night.

  “Huh.” I eyeballed Willow curiously, trying to figure out a way to approach her.

  “She reminds me of Pixie, actually,” Matt said suddenly. Noticing my confused reaction, he quickly clarified. “Kinsey. With that free-spirited thing she has and all the wild curls. Anyway, what’s up with you and Desmond?”

  I hesitated. Not only was it a liability to discuss, but I feared losing the single thread of control I held onto.

  “‘Cause, you know, if there was something going on,” he continued, vaguely, “I might tell you that I’m cool with it. I might—hypothetically, of course—even risk sounding totally lame by saying something cliché like ‘you only live once’ and ‘life’s short’.”

  He looked over at me expectantly, and I quickly rose to my feet. Changing the subject once more, I shot him a
smirk and glanced at Kinsey. “Yeah, well...I might tell you the same thing.”

  I looked back before heading up the stairs and quietly asked, “You guys find everything okay? Do you need any more blankets? Food?”

  “We’re good,” he insisted. “Stop thinking about everyone else and go take care of yourself. Okay?”

  I smiled faintly. “Night, Matt.”

  He grinned. “Night.”

  Returning to my bedroom, I flicked off the light and crawled into bed. A full hour later, my mind was still racing. Laying alone like this was tormenting me, just as I’d presumed. Between the anticipation of Tempest’s next clue, which could pop up at any time, and Desmond’s words playing themselves repeatedly on a loop, I was struggling to relax at all. I jumped from the bed exasperatedly and paced the floors of my room, back and forth, trying to shake both of them from my thoughts. But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t get even a second of peace.

  The cool sensation along my back intensified, and I could tell he was closer to me now. How close, I didn’t know. I crept to my window and peeked outside, but, of course, there was no sign of him.

  Though I disliked this part of myself, deep down it killed me.

  Slinking back into bed, I lay motionless. It was beginning to dawn on me that his affection was not the only thing I craved at a time like this. This wasn’t some mere imprudent longing. It was more than that. He was more... The one person who saw past my words, who even cared to look that far. Someone who reached deep into my soul until I couldn’t hide anymore, until I no longer wanted to. The first person who I could truly confide in, who knew the facets of me no one else had ever gotten close enough to know—flaws, quirks, weaknesses, and strengths. Someone who’d taught me what it felt like to just let myself go. To stop holding my emotions back and just...be. The thought of possibly losing all of it, all of him, especially now…that was what pained me more than anything.

  Each second passing by felt longer than the last. I was drifting off wearily but never quite able to settle my mind enough for sleep.

  The sudden sound of the window softly closing prompted me to open my eyes. It was him; his tall silhouette was shadowed in the darkness of my room. I sat up in my bed, unsure of what to expect, trying desperately to refrain from reaching out to him.

  He was looking at me, but it was too dark to make out his expression. When he set a rolled up piece of paper on my dresser, I peeled back the covers to approach him. But by the time I was standing, he was gone, with nothing but the crisp, early morning air and grey skies left to greet me from the open window. I tugged the window closed and eyed the white paper hesitantly. The way it was rolled reminded me of a scroll or parchment from an earlier century, and its edges were still trying to curl when I pulled it open. I had to flip on my small lamp to read it.

  Charlie,

  I hope you will forgive my scarce presence and accept this letter in my stead. I’m finding that it’s the only way for me to be able to keep my word. To keep you safe.

  There is something urgent I need to do this morning, which may take up to several hours, but trust that I will return well before the ritual. In the meantime, remain in your house where the others can protect you. They will look after you well.

  One more thing. Something I haven’t yet had the chance to tell you in person.

  Charlie, I owe you thanks.

  Thank you...for baring yourself to me. For showing me all of the beautiful parts that make up Charlotte Marie Eden. I will be forever grateful to you, Charlie, for waking me up. Reminding me of what it’s like to be human once again.

  To truly care for someone.

  To love.

  I stared back at the paper, stunned, reading his perfect, cursive handwriting over and over again. To love. Did Desmond Stone actually love me? In the same way I was slowly being able to admit I loved him?

  I peeked outside for any chance that I might glimpse him, but the empty feeling along my spine told me he was already long gone.

  A light tap suddenly sounded at the door, and I rolled the paper back up, keeping it tight in my grasp as I walked across the room and turned the knob.

  It was Julien, greeting me with a timid smile.

  “Morning,” he said. “Sorry to knock so early. We figured we’d get a head start on the big day.”

  I gulped, my throat becoming unbearably parched. Though Desmond’s letter still tugged at my attention, Julien’s casual comment made my stomach tighten. This was it. As he said, today was the big day. The day I would finally come face to face with my enemy. The day I would discover if I had what it took to defeat Tempest.

  “Right,” I said weakly. “Probably a good idea.”

  “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, glancing down at his toes briefly. He could see my wariness, and it seemed to make him appear even more uncomfortable than usual. “Matt wanted me to let you know he and Kinsey made breakfast. If you want some.”

  I was about to respond when something to my right caught my eye. On the full-length wall mirror, red letters slowly formed, one by one. My stomach churned, and I felt the color drain from my face.

  “Thanks, Julien,” I finally replied, my eyes unwavering from the mirror. “I’ll be down soon.”

  “Yeah, okay. Um...are you all right?”

  “Huh?” I couldn’t make out what it said yet. The small, crimson letters making up the message were thick and dripping, and I feared what may have been used to substitute ink. Julien was still waiting in the doorway. I tore my gaze away, attempting a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah. Just...big day, like you said. I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Sure, of course. Take your time.”

  He left, and I closed the door behind him, locking it firmly. Holding my breath, I took a cautious step toward the mirror.

  The message was complete.

  It’s been fun, our little game.

  But the time has come

  To stop playing.

  Don’t worry, darling,

  It’s just a little blood.

  No need for her to die,

  Should you do as you must.

  Keep your eyes on the clock,

  For when it strikes nine,

  You shall be at the shop.

  The shop. After she had spent years hiding from Priscilla, Tempest was sending a clear message: she wasn’t afraid, no place was safe. I checked the time on my cell phone: seven o’clock. That gave me a mere two hours. At least Priscilla had anticipated her timing correctly, being that tonight was the evening of the full moon. I needed to move quickly.

  No need for her to die, I read again, and my eyes grew wide. Grabbing my cell phone from the dresser, I speed dialed my aunt.

  “Charlie?” she answered, and I exhaled loudly at the sound her voice.

  “You’re okay,” I breathed, squeezing my eyes shut in relief.

  “Of course I’m okay.” She hesitated, her voice growing concerned. “Are you all right, Charlie? Any more details on your trip?”

  “Sorry. Yeah, I’m good. Just had a bad dream, I guess.” My mind wandered uncertainly. If she wasn’t the one in danger...who was? “Um, the trip. Right. I’ll email you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” she replied skeptically. “If you promise.”

  “I promise. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  We hung up, and I flew down the stairs. Dominic, Julien, and Willow each sat at the kitchen table, chatting as they ate their breakfast. I spotted Matt and Kinsey outside and headed to the front porch.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” Matt grinned.

  “Have you heard from Quinn or Pixie lately?” I asked, ignoring his greeting.

  “Yeah. I just hung up with them, actually,” he answered curiously.

  Relief shot through me once more, and I let out a low breath. The moment of peace was short lived before my nerves took hold of me again. Who in the world did Tempest have then?

  Kinsey was watching me closely, her brows drawn together in concern. “Are you okay, C
harlie?”

  “I’m fine.” Hearing the sharpness of my own voice, I took a second to soften it. “Thank you.”

  “Where are they?” I asked, turning back to Matt.

  “At the shop.”

  My stomach dropped. The one place Tempest would soon be expecting me, and two of my closest friends were there. Completely alone. “I thought Priscilla wasn’t opening the shop back up till after the Gala?”

  “She’s not,” he answered. “But Quinn needed to drop off some of her candles, so they just popped in for a sec. What’s this about, Charlie?” His voice grew serious, and I tried to think of something fast.

  “Nothing,” I replied with an innocent shrug. “I just don’t think they should be alone right now. I mean, we already know Tempest is unpredictable, right? We should invite them to stay here with us. Just until the ritual tonight, to be on the safe side.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. I would be much more comfortable knowing they were safe and away from the shop. But I also had another reason for needing to get everyone under one roof.

  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Carefully chewing on his lip as he considered my words, he finally agreed.

  “All right. That’s not a bad idea, actually. I’ll call her back.”

  I waited until I overheard Pixie’s voice on the other end of the line before heading back inside, trotting back up the stairs to my bedroom. If they were safe, who did Tempest have? The pouch Priscilla had given me was tucked beneath my pillow. I changed into jeans so I’d have pockets and stored the pouch securely inside.

  Next, was the incantation. Walking back down to the kitchen, I made my way past the dining table and attempted to casually grab a plate. I was starving, and my stomach grumbled loudly at the display of food on the countertop. Julien and Dominic had just joined Matt and Kinsey outside, but Willow still sat at the table, finishing up her meal.

  “Hey,” I called, drizzling maple syrup over a blueberry pancake.

  She looked taken aback by the greeting, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d hardly spoken a word to any of them since their arrival. I slid into the empty seat beside her.