Bramble Burn

by Autumn Dawn

  She glanced at the lava pool and swallowed. “Can’t I…isn’t there a way to return to what I was?” she pleaded.

  He mellowed. “Can a fledgling grown into an eagle become an egg? There is no going back.”

  She swallowed that bitter pill in silence. No going back. No normal life for her. What did that mean for her future? She drew an unsteady breath. “I have a job. All my stuff is in Alaska.”

  He regarded her without interest. “Send for it. Unless you wish to find an active volcano there, you’ll waste away. As for the arctic winter…you can survive it, but you will find the cold more bitter than ever.”

  She laughed without humor, knowing he was right. The thought of snow chilled her, but…. “I can’t live in a lava tube my whole life.” She cast him a dark look. “I can’t live with you.”

  He tapped his index finger on the armrest as he stared into space. At length he said, “I could let you go. It might be the death of you, though. It would grieve me to see an elemental’s life wasted, even if she were once human.

  “But what to do with you? You can’t even eat on your own.” He considered her broodingly.

  She didn’t like his train of thought. “I can build fires in Alaska, but even if I did find it uncomfortable, I have a commitment to my job and my boss. I have to explain why I’m leaving, if I’m leaving. I haven’t decided yet, but I can’t just relocate here. I’d have to find another job, get an apartment, all kinds of stuff. It’s a lot to consider.”

  He smiled knowingly. “Don’t think you can easily return to your former life. The Fates would certainly interfere, if they haven’t already. They did not go to such lengths to see you walk away from me.” His smile grew wide with malicious delight. “Though you may try, of course. I won’t stop you.”

  “Why?” Kira demanded. “What can I do for them? If you didn’t order this, then what do they want?”

  He rose to his full height, a terrible light in his eyes. “They want me to love you. They want me to spare your worthless kind. They want me to forgive.”

  She held very still. Instinct made her lower her eyes. He looked ready to strike, and his words were hammer blows.

  His power washed over her, burning with its intensity. “I will never love you. I will not forgive. I will stand aside and watch as the world burns.”

  There was a moment of awful silence, then hot sparks struck her cheek as he rose in a cloud of sparks and shot from the cave.

  Kira drew a careful breath. She felt cold and a little sick. She couldn’t stay here, not with him. The man was dangerous.

  She sighed regretfully, but she couldn’t take the lava pool with her. She’d have to figure something else out.

  It was a hard climb down, and she earned plenty of scrapes and bruises. She wouldn’t risk traveling as spark, though. Not only did it make her ill, but she was afraid to tamper with her current form. What if she couldn’t turn back?

  As she picked her way across the lava field, anxiety churned in her gut. She didn’t want to leave the only sure source of food she knew. It would probably be a couple of days until she could eat as she traveled back, and she was already weak. She’d visibly filled out since dining on lava, but she knew how fast she could waste away. Besides, she hadn’t even tried to find the women who’d done this. She only had his word that it wasn’t reversible.

  There was a lot she didn’t know. Why was he so angry? And what was with the jewelry? If he didn’t want to be tied by them, why create them? Wedding jewelry...it didn’t make sense. Maybe the items were stolen from him. But why? And why did the Fates pick her?

  All that stuff about love…well, duh! She wasn’t about to expect a psychopathic freak of nature to love her. She wasn’t feeling his charm, but he knew stuff. Maybe he knew a way she could travel away from fire and not waste away.

  She bit her lip, but discarded the notion of staying. She would have to manage on her own. She couldn’t stay with a man like him.

  Driving away from the lava flow was torture. She focused hard on her goal of returning the rental car. She longed to turn around, to return to the fire where she would be safe. She felt as if every moment away were cooling her, like a coal that broke from the main fire.

  Halfway to the hotel, she was forced to discard the idea of looking for the Fates. She felt weak, moody. Hungry. The black clouds moving in mirrored her emotions, making them worse. The heat from the sun might have helped.

  By the time she checked into her hotel, the sky was dark with angry storm clouds. Kira lay on her bed and tossed. She could feel the lava calling her. She could feel him.

  Temptation welled. Instinct told her where to find the lava. She could turn to spark, and was hungry enough it sounded appealing. Now that she’d fed from it, the need for volcanic energy tugged her relentlessly. Worse, it was something she needed. She’d die if she didn’t feed.

  She opened the balcony doors. Damp wind hit her face as she watched the tossing ocean. A sizzle of lightning lashed the sky, burning with an energy she could nearly taste.

  She drew a fast breath. Could she feed off lightning? It was a kind of fire.

  Instinct slammed her; she couldn’t control herself. With a thought, she became spark; a confusing shower of stars that shot into the sky, searching for lightning. A bolt shot over the sea, and she raced for it. A wash of energy filled her, and she exulted; she’d fed! It was strange stuff, and it made her feel drunk, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t have to go back to the lava! There were other ways to survive.

  The first drops of rain were a nuisance; she shook them off, but as the rain thickened, she faltered. Fire and rain didn’t mix.

  Worried, loopy from the lightning buzz, she peered at the island, trying to get her bearings. She’d moved too far from land; she wasn’t sure which hotel was hers, and the rain was torrential. She lost altitude.

  Desperate, she locked on the lava’s call, fought toward it. She sensed it, a bright flame in her consciousness. As she flew closer, she saw its glow in the darkness.

  But she was getting tired. The rain froze and stung. She floundered, like an exhausted swimmer in deep water. The rain fought her, tossing her in the air. She was losing the spark form, growing heavy. Would she become human again, or merely snuff out? The beach drew closer, but not close enough.

  Just as she thought she would die, a rush of fire shot from the island, caught her in its heat. She felt relief as she recognized the energy. Fire had saved her.

  They swept over the dark rocks, Fire sweeping her effortlessly along. She trembled with shock and chill when they coalesced in human form within his cave. He held her in his arms and swore as he crossed to the lava pool. “No sense at all! You had nothing to eat, but left it until you had to fly back in a storm? If you were coming to me, why didn’t you use your human form? Are you suicidal?” He lowered her beside the pool. Only then did she notice her hands and arms were covered with large black spots. She recoiled. “What happened to me?” she cried, frantically brushing at the spots. She looked diseased!

  “What did you think happens to spark in a deluge? Hold still.” His eyes snapped blue flames as he channeled energy from the fire into her body. When she struggled, he snapped, “What is it with you?” Then suspiciously, “Why does your fire feel so…you’re lightning drunk!” He snatched his hands away and glared. “You risked death for a taste of lightning?”

  She shivered, cowed by her brush with death. “I was hungry.” It sounded wretched, and she lowered her eyes in self-disgust. “I didn’t think about the rain.”

  He exhaled hard. “Worse than a child,” he muttered, sounding aggrieved. He fixed her with a hard stare. “Well? There’s food. If you haven’t managed to die yet you probably won’t.”

  Chastened, she turned her attention to the fire. She ached, but the flow of fire felt good, healing. It soothed the shivers that wracked her body, faded the dark blotches to light shades of gray. Unfortunately, when finished feeding she still felt terrible.


  He saw her gingerly touch her head and snorted. “Lightning headache. It affects a fire elemental like too much wine.”

  That was an understatement. Her head throbbed, and it made her wonder. “Have you ever tried it?”

  A touch of smile curved his mouth. He looked reluctantly amused. “The young do many foolish things.”

  She grinned. “So you did. I feel better about it now.”

  His smile vanished. “Do not. I was stronger than you are. Another attempt might be your last.”

  She sighed and stumbled to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave lightning drinking to moonshiners. Is there anything else I should avoid?” She massaged her temples, trying to ease the pain. It felt as if someone was electrocuting her brain, and she swayed.

  He grasped her arm to steady her. “We can discuss that later. It’s best if you sleep now.”

  All but blind, she allowed him to lead her. She sat obediently on the bed because it was better than falling over. “I don’t think I can sleep. Do you have any medicine I could take? I have some ibuprofen in my hotel room.”

  “Human medicine won’t work on you now.” She heard him rustling around. A cork popped, and she smelled a sharp, astringent scent. She jerked away, opening her eyes to see the vial he held under her nose. “Ugh! What is it?” It burned her nose, but her head felt better immediately. With less pain came crushing fatigue.

  He didn’t answer, simply drew the covers back and took off her shoes. “Let’s hope you get less sand in the sheets this time.”

  She growled, but quietly. Her head wasn’t a hundred percent yet. Besides, it felt good to lie down. She let him cover her with the blanket, but felt obliged to warn him, “This is temporary. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  He didn’t look impressed. “If you can walk out of here tomorrow, I may even let you.”

  Excerpt from special guest, Bridget Blackwood:

  Belong to the Night

  World in Shadows #3

  by

  Bridget Blackwood

  Learn more at her website: http://bridgetblackwoodauth.wix.com/book

  Chapter 1

  Elisavet

  May 20th, 11:45 PM

  The time had run away from me again. My plan to stay an hour after work and catch up on the mountain of paperwork in my to-do pile turned into five hours. Those who know me wouldn’t be surprised to find me still at work this late. I was a perfectionist by nature and had a caseload large enough for three people. Workaholic was my middle name by necessity.

  This is why I don’t have a social life.

  Ardmore University was bustling with students and faculty during the day but I was the lone person traversing the campus at such a late hour. Professors were long gone and their pupils were tucked away safely in their dorms asleep or cramming for the upcoming final exams. The crickets chirped cheerfully for me and it helped me feel less alone. A blood moon hung heavy in the sky and illuminated the sidewalk under my aching feet. Usually I carry a pair of ballet flats to wear during the trek to and from my car. I’d gotten distracted cleaning up coffee I spilled on the kitchen counter and had forgotten them.

  Stupid heels. Shoes like these weren’t made for walking all over campus running tedious errands.

  After hours and hours of playing gofer to Professor Randall, I looked forward to putting on my pajamas. I lived for the weekends when I lounged around and caught up on the shows stored in my DVR. My feet would only see my favorite pair of Converse if I needed to wear shoes at all. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job. I just wasn’t actually doing my job.

  I wish I’d been assigned to the Inter-Species Relations center instead of as Randall’s junior assistant.

  Since The Affirmation, when we learned beings previously dismissed as myth and legend were our next door neighbors, paranormal career fields had gained creditability. Professor Randall’s thesis had made him irreplaceable in the field of Cryptozoology. Cryptid was the scientifically accepted term for Therians or Shapeshifters, Vampires, and Fae. Technically it wasn’t a correct definition to apply to them since Cryptids are plants, animals, or creatures not documented but accepted in folklore.

  Randall was the lead specialist in the US branch of the ISR, and his day job was at my alma mater, Ardmore University. The elevated status awarded to Randall by the government only proved to inflate his ego. He was brilliant and he knew it. Being his assistant should have been an excellent opportunity. I was supposed to be helping him with ISR related work, but Randall abused his position and tasked me with preparing the coursework for his Shadow World Studies classes.

  Shadow World. Only slightly better than Cryptid because it’s at least a little poetic.

  Coined by a tabloid reporter, the public embraced the phrase as a way to describe any inhuman being. You never heard them use either Cryptid or Shadow World. In fact, the only term I’d heard them refer to one another as was Preternatural. The Shadow World moniker bred the idea that they were dark, sinister creatures hiding under the bed. They’d lived right next door to us forever, we just didn’t notice.

  Speaking of things we didn’t know about: Blood Moons.

  Sure, everyone knew the lore behind full moons, but Blood Moons? Never heard of them. The Blood Moon occurred during the waning gibbous phase of the moon’s cycle. The waxing gibbous didn’t affect them nor did any other phase of the moon. You’d be hard-pressed to find a anyone eager to venture outdoors during the time of the month the Preternaturals got twitchy. Oh yeah, and those full moons?

  Totally bogus. Nothing happens on them. Bupkis. Zilch. Silly superstition.

  The public feared Therians frothing at the mouth taken over by their inner animal side and vampires driven mad by the need to drain humans empty of their blood. It just wasn’t so. Therians were more likely to shift during the Blood Moon and Vampires did feed, but both factions were intensely private about it. Less Preternatural activity was recorded in public on the night of the Blood Moon than any other time of the month.

  With the ISR, I should’ve been helping others learn the real histories of Cryptids instead of believing in the myths. I was one of only three hundred ISR agents in the country. Trying to help mediate between the Defense Committee and the Shadow World was a lesson in warfare. The Defense Committee was a government organization tasked with protecting human interests. Naturally they clashed with the Shadow World counterpart, an unnamed organization led by Manias Artorias. Few students who entered the cryptozoology program in college actually graduated for fear of the job itself.

  Tolerance was preached to everyone but Cryptid crime was still a significant problem. According to the numbers we were given by the Cryptids we far outnumbered them. Arsonists targeted Vampire and Therian establishments. The same could be said of burglers, though who in their right mind steals from a Cryptid I couldn’t tell you.

  The interior lights from the guard shack ahead brought a smile to my face. My nightly ritual before heading to my car was to say hello to the guards. Knowing they were nearby calmed my nerves when walking across the deserted parking lot.

  Gus, my favorite security guard, waved from the miniscule building at the mouth of the parking lot. I waved back at the elderly man. Gus was sweet and I worried about him. He looked frail, a little withered and bent. Always cheerful, he reminded me of a grandfather who kept candy in his pocket to sneak to his grandkids. College students, especially the younger ones, weren’t very kind to campus security. I hated to think of them mistreating the sweet octogenarian. Gus couldn’t afford to live on his retirement pay so he endured the pig noises and rent-a-cop jokes.

  Gus leaned his arm out of the window. “Another late night, Lizzy?”

  My smile didn’t falter, but I cringed inwardly at the nickname. Everyone called me Lizzy and I was too non-confrontational to correct them. I told myself it was easier than listening to them butcher the name my Greek American father proudly bestowed upon me. Elisavet Aikaterine Katsaros was reduced to Lizzy.

  “I finally fin
ished the prep work for tomorrow's lecture.” I adjusted the strap of my purse higher up on my shoulder.

  “Does the Professor do anything himself? You do all his research, grade papers, and prepare lectures,” Gus ticked the points off on three fingers. “All I ever see him do is talk.”

  I grinned and handed him the company line for Randall’s laziness. “Randall is a very busy man. He has a lot on his plate with both his University and Government positions.”

  Gus harrumphed and looked past me at the scrawny guy with a swaggering walk coming up the sidewalk. He was dressed in the same uniform as Gus so it was safe to assume he was also campus security.

  Gus crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  “Late again, Tyler,” he chastised the young man.

  “Sorry, old timer. My woman was achin’ for another piece of the Ty.” He rolled his hips provocatively and looked me over lasciviously. “Maybe my ex-woman. Who is this lovely lady?”

  He snatched up my hand and tried to kiss it, but I pulled free before he could.

  I might catch some of his lame mojo if his lips make contact with my skin.

  “This is Lizzy, and she’s too smart for you,” Gus’ eyes sparkled with mirth.

  Tyler dismissed me with a wave. “College chicks have too much attitude for The Ty anyway.”

  The Ty? More like college girls can recognize that a guy who talks about himself in the third person isn’t a catch?

  “Lizzy isn’t a student,” Gus explained. “She works for the ISR as Professor Randall’s assistant.”

  Tyler grimaced, “That sucks. Randall is a douche.”

  I covered a smile with my hand.

  Tyler regarded me carefully with narrowed eyes. “If you’re ISR, shouldn’t you know not to be out on a Blood Moon? Aren’t you afraid of being attacked?’