Singing Fire

by T. L. Martin

  What could I do? Would I be able to heal myself? It was worsening by the second, so I forced myself to at least try before it was too late. I closed my eyes, attempting to focus my energy just as I had with the small cut at Desmond’s house. But the fiery pain ripping through me was overwhelmingly distracting. It was unyielding, relentless, and proving to be far stronger than me. I knew I wasn’t going to make any progress with the dagger still piercing through my flesh. I needed to remove it. But my wrists were still stuck in place.

  A sudden outburst sounded, and I opened my eyes, breaking all concentration.

  Anastasie’s body lifted several feet off the ground. Her eyes were wide in terror as a bright light seeped out through the center of her chest. She opened her mouth, but only blood came out before the skin over her chest ripped open like a bursting seam. Fire erupted as her body shriveled to ash within seconds, collapsing into a pile on the ground. For a moment, the walls reverberated in chilling silence.

  I gasped as the dagger abruptly flung from my body and crashed onto the floor beside me. Tempest strolled toward me with intent behind each step, and she squinted her eyes for a closer look at the wound.

  “Bring me the girl,” she commanded, and Pierce and Jovan immediately obeyed, making their way to Pixie and holding firmly onto her hands as they brought her to us.

  I peeked down at my open flesh. It was even worse than I had thought, a steady flow of blood still creeping out and pain twisting my insides. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to heal such a gruesome incision on my own, not with the amount of concentration it would require. Regardless, it was probably for the best that I didn’t try again. Not without Pixie. If I did succeed, allowing Tempest to see me do so would be an ignorant move. It was impossible to decipher how much she knew about the Opal already, and it would be naive to reveal anything she may not yet be aware of.

  Pixie stumbled forward as the two men pushed her to sit on the ground beside me. She looked up at me with worry, her lips quivering at the grisly sight.

  “Oh, Charlie...” Her voice faded as she surveyed the depth of my wound.

  “It’s...just a...scratch,” I whispered through labored breathing.

  A tear streamed down her face as she managed a soft, nervous laugh.

  “Enough,” Tempest snapped. She flicked a finger toward my wrists, and they were suddenly freed from the invisible bond. “Begin.”

  Placing her hands on either side of the wound, Pixie closed her eyes. I followed suit, placing my own hands on top of hers, and we briefly engulfed ourselves in reuniting our bond. I wasn’t sure it was necessary, considering we were already synced, but I did know it would help. The blood had already stopped, and my body relaxed as the flesh began its flawless repair at an incredible rate.

  When the pain fully subsided and my skin was whole again, I opened my eyes. Immediately, my hands were magically being forced back to my sides until they were bound once again.

  Tempest beamed as she appraised my healed skin. “Not bad.” She smirked. “Lock her back up.”

  Pixie looked at me pleadingly before she was dragged away.

  I shot a scornful glare at Tempest. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Not at all,” she replied with a wink.

  With Anastasie gone and Pixie back in her cell, the room felt unnaturally quiet. Tempest strolled lazily to Quinn and leaned forward. She blew a soft breath of air onto Quinn’s lips.

  “You goddamn–” Quinn’s enraged words were cut off by Tempest’s finger swaying back and forth warningly.

  “I suggest you watch your tongue if you want to continue using it,” Tempest advised. “I see you healed nicely, by the way. Although I am a tad disappointed those blisters didn’t scar,” she said, brushing a long nail along Quinn’s cheek. “It would seem I’m a little rusty these days.”

  Quinn jerked her head away.

  “You could have prevented all of that pain, darling girl, had you simply kept your promise, you know.”

  I glanced at Quinn questioningly, but she avoided my gaze.

  “Making a deal with the devil is no child’s play,” Tempest egged on, watching my reaction more than Quinn’s.

  Quinn glowered at Tempest, and I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Finally,” Tempest said with an emphatic sigh. “It only took a near-death experience with a rabid vampire. I thought you’d never ask.”

  Quinn swallowed hard, and she finally met my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” she whispered.

  I felt my face grow pale as her confirmation cut through me almost as deep as the dagger had. All this time, one of Tempest’s helpers had been right under my nose. And someone I considered to be a good friend, no less.

  “How could you?” I breathed, almost too shocked to find my voice.

  She looked back down once more, and Tempest spoke.

  “Same as anyone else, really,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “Quick to strike a deal when the right offer presented itself.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” I quietly snapped, before turning back to Quinn.

  Tempest’s hands went up in the air in mock surrender, and she strolled a few footsteps away.

  “Talk to me, Quinn.”

  Quinn’s eyes were riddled with guilt when she spoke.

  “It was just after the attack at Face Rock,” she said quietly. “When we first discovered what you were. Tempest found me. Said she needed someone on the inside. I refused of course and threatened to tell Priscilla. But...” Her voice shook. “She said she could help my mother.”

  “Your mother?” I repeated in disbelief. “I thought you hadn’t seen her in years.”

  “I haven’t,” she replied insistently. “That’s just it. My parents started dabbling in dark magic before I could even walk. They used it to try to help people at first...cure illnesses, cancer...” Her voice drifted, and I thought back to her warning to Imogen about the dangers of trying to heal her own mother’s fatal illness through magic. “Dark magic is effective, but it always has a price. They seemed fine for a few years, but, all the while, the darkness was quietly eating away at them. Until, one day, they just broke. Went completely insane. Talking to people who weren’t there, claiming dark souls were trying to take their bodies—literally cutting into their skin with a kitchen knife to get them out.”

  Tears streamed down Quinn’s face now, and my own eyes began to water.

  “After my dad died,” she continued, “things only got worse for my mom. One night, she came into my room with her knife—said she had to purify me of the evil spirits.”

  My heart stopped. I moved to reach out to her, but the coffin resisted my attempt.

  “I was lucky that Priscilla came to check on me then. She took me in as her own, and I never saw or heard of my mother again. Until Tempest came to see me that day.”

  “What deal did you strike?” I asked.

  “She said she knew where my mother was and that if I helped her to sync with you, then she’d be strong enough to perform a reversing spell on the dark magic. My mother would get her life back.”

  “Why not just ask Priscilla to do it?”

  “Priscilla would never agree to it,” she urged. “And I could never ask her to, anyway. It takes dark magic to undo dark magic.”

  Tempest’s heels clicked toward us.

  “Yes,” she hissed, “but that was before you broke your word.”

  I inspected Quinn’s face curiously, and she answered my unasked question.

  “The potion you drank,” she said, glancing down shamefully once more. “I was supposed to bring it to the shop this morning. That’s why I had to come up with an excuse to stop there when I was with Pixie.” She paused, her hazel eyes looking at me earnestly. “But I couldn’t go through with it. You have to believe me, Charlie. She must have gotten someone else to do it after I left. I had no idea she was going to hurt the people you care about. I never would have agreed to a
ny of it if—”

  “Oh, please,” Tempest interrupted with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “‘Believe me, Charlie. I had no idea. Poor me’,” she mocked. “Are you really so naive, Quinn? Your conscience didn’t stop you from bringing me her blood after the initiation, did it? I wouldn’t have been able to make the potion to begin with if it wasn’t for you, so I guess I should still be thanking you.”

  Quinn wouldn’t look at either of us now.

  “Not to mention, the other details you conveniently left out,” Tempest pressed on. “Like the reports you sent me detailing Charlie’s whereabouts and Priscilla’s big plans. But what I want to know,” she said, darting excited glances from Quinn to me, “is who’s going to tell Charlie about your biggest betrayal of all?”

  Quinn’s eyes widened before she pleadingly shook her head at Tempest, and I was suddenly feeling lightheaded. I could hardly breathe as I waited for someone to tell me what the hell Tempest was talking about.

  “Quinn...” I whispered weakly. “What else did you do?”

  Tempest smiled, ensuring I had an unobstructed view of Quinn during her confession by taking a small step backward.

  It took a minute for Quinn to speak, but I didn’t take my eyes off of her for a second. She finally set her gaze on me, and the mixture of guilt, anxiety, and desperation that shone through their hazel gleam had me second guessing if I really wanted to know.

  “I mixed a potion,” she finally began, “and performed a spell over it that Tempest gave me.” She closed her eyes now, shutting everything, everyone, out. “A spell to stop someone’s heart.”

  My own heart froze at that moment, and time seemed to freeze with it. Ray. I couldn’t feel my body anymore, my fingers or my toes. I was detached. Disconnected. Only my heavy breathing and sweaty palms reminded me of where I was.

  “Charlie, you have to understand...she told me it wasn’t for anyone I knew—”

  “Which it wasn’t,” Tempest intervened with a pleased expression on her face.

  Quinn shot her a blood curdling look before shifting her attention back to me, at which point the shame instantly returned to her eyes. “An—and the spell didn’t require any dark magic,” she sputtered, “which meant whoever it was intended to be used on had to be someone already suffering from a failing heart. Someone who was already going to...already going to...”

  “Aw,” Tempest murmured. “Your guilt got the best of you?” She rolled her eyes again. “What’s done is done, darling. Get over it.”

  “And that makes it okay?” I could hardly speak through the shock still clouding my mind, and my words came out more like a croak than anything.

  “No!” Quinn closed her eyes again, squeezing them hard. “I wish...I wish I could take it back.”

  The silence that followed from her evident self-loathing and my devastating blow was thickening by the second, filling the entire underground room. Not even the sound of Tempest’s heels clacking as she circled our chairs could break us from the tension.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Tempest observed with amusement, pausing if only to add to the dramatics. “But, well, as entertaining as it is...we don’t have all day to waste on a pity party.” She turned to look across the room toward the open doorway. “Bring her out!”

  Quinn’s brows furrowed, and I could tell she was just as oblivious as I was.

  Seconds later, Pierce and Jovan were walking into the room with a woman in their arms. Her feet dragged on the ground as the men held her up. It was difficult to make out her face beneath the stringy hair falling over it, but I could see vile scars covering the few areas of her skin that the ragged, old cloak failed to hide. Her arms flinched uncontrollably as she mumbled curses under her breath.

  Quinn’s eyes watered once again, but the expression on her face was otherwise hard and unreadable.

  “It’s a great day for a reunion. Wouldn’t you agree?” Tempest purred. “Mother, meet daughter. Daughter, meet mother.”

  Quinn didn’t flinch, but a tear escaped down her cheek. As for her mother, the woman’s eyes couldn’t settle in one place long enough to assimilate anything.

  “Now, shall we review the rules of the game once more?” Tempest asked, turning to me. “You want to cure Quinn’s mother: sync with me. You want to release your friends: sync with me. You want to free your beloved boyfriend: sync with me.” She walked closer, leaning her face to my ear and bringing her voice to a hypnotic whisper. “Anything you want, Charlotte. Sync with me, and it’s yours.”

  “Don’t do it,” Quinn spat, taking aback not only Tempest but myself as well. She glanced back at her mother before speaking again. “That woman...she’s not my mother,” she muttered faintly. “She is too far gone.”

  I felt uncertain when I looked at her, but she nodded her head assertively. There was no trace of doubt to be found in her eyes.

  “The woman I owe my life to is Priscilla,” she continued, “and she raised me better than this. I’ve done enough damage as it is. Do not do it, Charlie.”

  I knew she was right, but I was surprised to hear the words coming from her. After all, what if it were me who’d had a chance at seeing my parents again? Giving them their lives back? Just the thought of it tugged hard enough at my heart to make it hurt. I couldn’t know what lengths I would have gone to for such a promise… I liked to imagine being able to think of the greater good. To put all the other innocent people’s safety first. But if I was being honest with myself, if the opportunity was right in front of me, who knew what I would do for them?

  Quinn’s eyes were cold, and I looked again at the woman before us. It was clear she was long gone, but I couldn’t pretend to know how this felt to Quinn.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered.

  She didn’t even hesitate when she gave me a firm nod.

  “I told you,” I finally reiterated between gritted teeth. “I will never sync with you.”

  Wild rage flashed in Tempest’s eyes but only for a fleeting moment.

  “Your call,” she murmured calmly, and she brought her hand to her own neck, touching her skin with an index finger. Slowly, leisurely, she dragged the finger to the other end of her neck.

  The woman beneath the cloak screamed out hellishly before her voice failed her. Blood spilled evenly from her throat as though a knife were slowly tearing through her skin until the men released her, and her body thumped limply against the stone hard ground.

  “No!” Quinn’s cries pierced into my ears, tearing my heart straight out of my chest. The men unchained her flailing body and dragged her toward the cells. “You could have let her go! She did nothing to you!” She fought hard enough to slow them down, her face turning red with fury as her shrieks permeated throughout every inch of the room. “I will kill you with my bare hands, Tempest!”

  Managing to free one of her hands just enough for a simple gesture, Quinn muttered a spell. Nothing happened.

  “Your play-magic will not work here, stupid girl,” Tempest quietly sneered.

  Quinn got oddly quiet, though she didn’t stop resisting the men’s grasp on her. “It doesn’t even matter,” she finally said, wearing a taunting, vicious look. “You’ve used too much magic. It’s only a matter of time before Priscilla finds you now.”

  Even I could see the fear shoot through Tempest’s eyes at the mention of Priscilla before it shifted to a burning anger as she turned to me.

  “You will sync with me,” she whispered threateningly, speaking each word with steadfast determination.

  Dropping her hands to her side, she momentarily forgot all dramatic flares as she marched past me and Quinn.

  “Apertus.” Desmond’s cell flew open. Tempest extended her arms toward his unconscious body. Lowering them slightly before pulling them sharply back again, she shot her hands out. “Electrica ignis!”

  His body vibrated violently from head to toe, making his head pull back as he furiously cried out. His eyes, now wide open, looked vicious enough to terrorize anyone a
s he challengingly stared her down. Sharp fangs were fully bared. Tempest took a few steps back, and she turned to face me once more.

  “I will end this ridiculous charade now,” she announced loudly. “You will understand that it is not a matter of if you will sync with me, but when. Will it be soon enough to prevent the death of your precious Desmond? Or will you wait until every last person you hold dear has been ripped to shreds?” Her eyes sparked heatedly. “That part, darling, is up to you.”

  I watched as Desmond adjusted to his surroundings, slowly realizing what exactly he was in the middle of. His blue eyes started to make their way toward me, and I couldn’t stop the lump in my throat from forming. It was evident how severely depleted he was. Though he still appeared as intimidating as ever, I doubted whether his strength would be enough when it came down to it. Something in him changed when he finally spotted me, and his body stiffened.

  If I had thought he appeared menacing before, it was nothing compared to the dangerous look he wore now. He didn’t need to speak at all. The deadliness behind his eyes screamed louder than a thousand words.

  Tempest prowled around his body, her eyes darting satisfactorily from him to me.

  “Quite the romance, I see,” she purred. “I guess I lucked out even more than I thought with you, handsome.”

  Desmond growled as he yanked forcefully against the chains. They tugged at the ceiling, but it wasn’t going to be enough in his weakened state.

  She was standing right beside him now, just barely out of his reach. With her eyes on mine, she extended an arm and touched her index finger to his shoulder. Without warning, her finger burned into his skin as she dragged it down his arm. I cried out, watching helplessly as smoke radiated from his flesh. Desmond’s body hardened, and his jaw tightened in pain, but he didn’t make a sound.

  “Don’t watch,” he muttered softly to me. “It’s what she wants.”

  But I couldn’t just look away, doing nothing as she tormented him. She lifted a finger once again. It wasn’t a burn this time but a deep cut that jaggedly penetrated his rib cage. She twisted her finger in sharp circular motions as she dug into him, and his eyes closed briefly in response. His lips pressed together in a firm line.