Kiss Of Fire (Imdalind Series)

by Ethington, Rebecca

“Lift her!” Ilyan yelled over my screams.

  I screamed louder as their strong hands moved me, sending another violent flame through my whole body. My screams bounced around the tile of the bathroom, trapping us all in the sound.

  They lowered me into the tub, the hot water folding over me to envelop my body like a blanket, its touch relieving the pain. The mass of the water was heavier than what water normally feels like, but perhaps it was just my broken body that made it feel that way. My bottom hit the base of the tub with a thud, the impact sending an uncomfortable jolt up my back that made me call out in pain. The water smelled strongly of the flowers I had originally smelled, but something else was mixed in. It almost smelt like an odd combination of burning wood and mint.

  “I don’t think this is moving fast enough, Ilyan; she is still weakening,” Wyn whispered into the silence. “She is going to have to go under.”

  “I’ll go get the drevo.” The door opened and then shut, leaving silence in the bathroom.

  “Joclyn,” Wyn’s voice was hesitant; I couldn’t help but notice that the accent had disappeared. “You’ll need to go under the water. It is only for a minute, and Ilyan and I will be right here,” she said, hesitating again. “We… we won’t let anything happen to you.”

  The door opened and shut.

  “Should we take the necklace off?” Wyn asked, her accent returning.

  “No. Perhaps the kouzlo will transfer to him and we can save two lives tonight.” He paused and I heard something heavy hit against the side of the tub. “Joclyn? Don’t be scared, Silnỳ.” His voice was too distant; I focused on it as it echoed around my brain.

  I felt his hands pry my mouth open and something large and rough was placed inside. The large mass was coarse and uncomfortable against my tongue, the bitter dirt taste shocking me. I tried desperately to spit it out, but Ilyan’s hand stayed tight around my jaw, not allowing it to open again.

  “It’s okay, Joclyn. It will help you.”

  My body twitched in panic as I continually tried to force the uncomfortable mass off my tongue. I fought against Ilyan’s hand that he held against my jaw, I fought against the invisible bonds that tied my body, but nothing responded. What were they doing? Why wasn’t I in the hospital? I didn’t understand. I tried desperately to piece together what I had been told, what had happened. I knew the answer was right in front of me, but I couldn’t see it; I couldn’t piece it together.

  My eyes snapped open to see the two faces peering over the bath at me. Ilyan looked down with something akin to worry and fear, but it was Wyn who was shocking. At first, she looked the way she always did, chin-length auburn hair and dark eyes. But her features had changed so drastically, she almost didn’t look like herself anymore. Wyn’s eyes were darker than normal, but not only in color, the whites of her eyes were almost nonexistent. Her eyes were not the most shocking change; against the side of her face was a dark tattoo that ran from her hair line and disappeared down the side of her neck and under her shirt. The deep black lines swooped and spiked over her skin with jagged edges that were sharp like the barbed tendrils of a wire. My stomach clenched tightly, afraid the wire was going to cut into her fine skin and rip her apart. The marks looked like the swirls and flowers and thorns of a tribal tattoo, but turned so much more sinister almost, as if it were an infection.

  She didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed as I looked at her, even though I was sure the surprise and confusion was clear on my face. She just looked at me sternly, her jaw set, before she reached forward and shoved me down, holding me under the water. I panicked and fought against her, but my body couldn’t obey my mind. I could only stare at them from under the water as I tried in pointless desperation to move. I opened my mouth to scream but it wouldn’t obey, instead it stayed clamped shut around the wad of dirt that still rested on my tongue. My chest began to burn for want of air, my vision began to darken again. I felt the weight leave my chest as Wyn removed her hand, but it was too late. I willingly drifted into the blackness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The light was so bright I could see the veins in my eyelids. I looked at the thin, pink skin before opening them, blinking furiously in an attempt to preempt the pain that never came. My body rested against the hard, bright white floor of a huge, white space. There were no doors, windows, or even walls that I could see - only an endless white space. I lay motionless in the middle of the expanse, searching all around me for something familiar. My eyes stopped on a small stretch of faded black that grew and throbbed off in the distance. Something about the black called to me, just like the blackness that haunted me in my pained body.

  I sat up, surprised when my body obeyed my commands. I had been trapped in a pain-filled, motionless prison for so long, part of me was beginning to wonder if I would ever move again. I swung my legs around in front of me, my movement quicker than I expected as I slipped on fleece pajama pants I had never seen before. I looked down at them curiously, trying to place them, but they weren’t familiar at all. As I reached toward the pants, the long sleeve of Ryland’s hoodie slipped over my hand. Unknown pajama pants and Ryland’s hoodie - what odd things to be wearing in a dream.

  I looked at them curiously, trying to think why my subconscious would place me in such odd clothing, and then I remembered Wyn holding me under the water. A flash of her tattooed face was all it took to incite panic in my chest. I gasped involuntarily, my chest heaving more than would be normal.

  At my terror, a large comforting hand rested on my back. I turned toward the touch, surprised to see Ryland sitting next to me, his dark curls falling over his forehead. But that wasn’t right… how could Ryland be here? And, where was I?

  My heart skipped a beat at seeing him there, right next to me. He sat still beside me, staring at me, his bright, blue eyes seeking into mine. He wore torn and stained jeans, but his chest was bare, his muscles defined and glistening as if he had just run a mile or two. I thought carefully over what to say, worried my hundreds of questions would topple over themselves in a jumble.

  “Am I dead?” I asked, my voice sounding perfectly fine despite the burn in my throat as I spoke.

  “No.” Ryland’s voice was low and comforting.

  “Are you dead?”

  “Anything but.”

  “So I am dreaming?”

  “No.” His answer was confident; it caught me off-guard as the question was mostly rhetorical.

  “Then, where are we?” I could hear the desperate panic creeping into my voice.

  Ryland leaned forward and moved my hair away from my face, letting his fingertips linger on the skin of my jaw.

  “I think it’s some form of shared consciousness,” he whispered.

  “I don’t understand.” This seemed more like a dream than anything else. It felt like a dream; it looked like a dream. Even through Ryland’s confident answer, I still felt like I knew I was dreaming.

  “That’s alright. I wouldn’t expect you to. Everything is so new to you. I wish I could be there to help you through it; you are probably very scared.”

  “Isn’t it new to you?”

  “No, Joclyn. I have known about this my entire life.” His fingers continued to trail around my face, over the lines of my neck. The touch was warm and comforting; I was having trouble thinking straight.

  “This?” I motioned to the white expanse around us.

  “No, silly, not white spaces that lead into nothingness.” His tone was exactly like Ryland; it was hard to believe that my dreams could be so accurate.

  “Then what?”

  Ryland exhaled deeply at my question and looked around him for something, or more like he was expecting someone.

  “Tell me what happened to you.” He moved closer to me, his voice soft. My previous question lay forgotten behind me as my memory of the evening began running through my mind in fast forward.

  “I failed you, Ryland.” I could feel the tears trying to burst out, my face growing warm as I attempted to restrain
them.

  Ryland leaned forward and pulled me into his lap, his arms winding their way around me.

  “You didn’t fail,” he whispered into my ear, his lips rubbing against my mark. The touch of his lips against the mark sending a slight shock through me.

  “But I went to my house, and my mom was… she was…” My voice caught, unsure if I wanted to face it, unsure if I could accept it. “And things were flying and then there was an explosion and… and I fell out of the window…”

  Ryland pulled me to him tighter, my tumble of words instantly ceasing.

  “I’m sorry, Joclyn, for everything. I never wanted you to be dragged into any of this. If I had remembered there was a window there, I wouldn’t have made the blast quite so strong.”

  He made the blast? I looked at him, confused, begging him to elaborate – but he only smiled at the look on my face.

  “Your back seems to be healing nicely, though.” He ran his fingertips up my spine, sending a warm shiver trailing behind.

  “Healing? How?”

  “The same way you are healing me, my love.” He ran his fingers up my back again, through my hair, over the soft skin of my face. His touch seemed so real, I found myself leaning into the bare skin of his chest, breathing in his smell.

  “Everything is so confusing, Ryland,” I said. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “It’s all quite simple, isn’t it, when you think about it?” The small smile evident in his quiet voice.

  I shook my head against him. I didn’t know what was simple about explosions and flying and… and… my mother.

  “How is it simple, Ryland?”

  “Oh, Joclyn, you are so special, and you don’t even know it yet.” His fingers trailed along my hairline comfortably.”Don’t reject what’s inside you, my love.”

  “But…”

  “You are powerful, and amazing, and confident. You may be the one…”

  “The one to what?” I pulled away from him, to look at him, but he only smiled sadly at me before pulling me back into his chest.

  “It’s nothing,” he whispered against my hair, cradling me against him until my body melded into his lap comfortably.

  I could hear Ryland’s heart beat through his chest, feel his warm breath run along my hair. I wished I could stay there forever, but instead, Ryland’s body stiffened underneath mine, his shoulder twitching.

  “I have to go.” It was almost a growl.

  “No.” I clung myself to him like a child, desperate for this small sense of normalcy to stay with me.

  “I have to.” He pulled my face up to look at him, his blue eyes deep and worried. “My father is trying to perform a Vymȁzat.”

  “Veemayzit?”

  “Yes, he is trying to get inside my brain, control me. If he finds you here…” He stopped, the pain dripping off his voice. He pulled me away from him, just far enough away to see his face as a whole.

  “Stay with Ilyan, Joclyn. The time may soon come that my father breaks in all the way, and when he does, I won’t remember you anymore. When that happens, I will only be a danger to you. But just remember that I love you; I will always love you. And locked inside me somewhere, I will always be waiting for you.” He spoke in an urgent rush; I could only stare at him.

  His head twitched to the side, his face screwing up into a pained expression, like someone was stabbing him. As soon as the pain had come, it went; he grabbed me roughly and held me in place so I had no where to look but at him.

  “Promise me, Joclyn!” He twitched again, but his eyes never left mine.

  “Promise what?”

  “Stay with Ilyan. Remember that I love you.” He stood, his whole left side twitching now. He looked at me in agony. “I love you.” He held my hand tightly, the last contact we had, but even I could feel that slip away.

  “I love you, too,” I said, the truth of my words surprising even me. Ryland’s face broke into a wide smile that lit up his whole face. He leaned down, his hand instantly resting on the side of my face. He moved closer and my heart beat faster in anticipation of a kiss. But before he even made it halfway, his whole body twitched, sending him to the ground as he yelled out in pain.

  “Ryland!” I moved to his body as he continued to twitch, my hands moving around him uselessly.

  His body calmed quickly and without warning. He lay still, curled up on the floor. I tentatively went to place my hand on his shoulder, desperate to know he would be okay, even though it was a dream. My hand stopped halfway to him; it hung in the air as my fingers began to shake in fear. There, on his back, resting on the same shoulder he had wrapped during the Rugby game, was a mark; a small raised brand, almost identical to mine even down to the dragon shaped squiggles.

  “Ryland?” My voice was small. “What is this?” My fingertips touched the mark before pulling themselves away as a jolt spun through our bodies.

  Ryland jumped up, his face coming only inches from mine.

  “Still alive, are you?” His voice was a hiss and growl, the words dripping with venom and malice. I jumped away from him. I knew it was Ryland, but nothing about him looked familiar. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his face screwed up in a wicked grin. His eyes met mine, and I gasped. They were no longer the blue I loved so much, but a deep charcoal, almost a pure black. I stayed frozen to the ground, my mind sluggishly working through the shock to catch up to me.

  “Not for long!” Fake Ryland lunged at me, and I leaped to the side, my fleece pants sliding me across the white space around us. My breath came in sharp bursts as my dream changed to a nightmare.

  “Ryland?”

  He only laughed at me, laughed at my panic. The sound was unlike anything Ryland had ever made before. It was deep and menacing; it ripped through me sending a shiver of panic skipping through my heart.

  Ryland began to twitch again, his body falling to the floor in yet another agonizing scream. He ran his fingers through his hair as he moaned, his white knuckles clawing through his curls. His hand jumped out, so fast I couldn’t move my arm away before he grabbed me, holding on to me tightly, making my heart race. Ryland looked up at me. I breathed a little sigh of relief at his eyes, now back to their regular blue. But even through the relief, my heart still beat in fear.

  “I have to go.” His voice was strained between his deep breaths.

  “Ryland?”

  “I can’t… my father…” He leaned forward, his shoulder and arm twitching more and more.

  Ryland reached forward and ran his finger down the side of my face. His face twitched again before he pressed his lips against my forehead.

  “Stay with Ilyan; I love you,” he whispered against my skin, his lips brushing me softly as he spoke. He leaned into me again, his lips burning into my skin. I closed my eyes at his touch, and when I opened them again, he had gone.

  I stared into the white space for a long while, trying to make sense of what was going on. Even though my mind was clear, I couldn’t work through the pieces. Long before I was ready, before I had made any semblance of anything that had happened, the gray and black that had stayed at the edge of the white space rushed at me, sucking me into the darkness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I could hear the TV. I heard the voices of some cheesy commercial chatter around me, almost like I was in the studio. I lay still, letting the sound wash over me as I replayed the dream in my mind, my face cringing at the lingering picture of Ryland’s contorted face. I shifted my weight out of habit, surprised when my body obeyed my command. Unlike the dream, however, the movement triggered a hundred aches and pains. While it didn’t feel as bad as the last pain I remembered, it still was far from comfortable.

  “Yes, Ovailia, I have felt them a few times, but nothing close as of yet.”

  At Ilyan’s voice, I opened my eyes to a dark room. I lay in a curled position on the long couch, a huge pile of blankets set on top of me. It made my body seem overly large and lumpy. Ilyan sat on the floor, his back resting against th
e couch by my knees, looking unfocused at the television directly across from me, the screen dim with some show about crab fishing. I watched it for a minute before Ilyan’s voice spoke again, pulling my mind away from the flickering box.

  “Her spine hasn’t quite fused yet, but it is close. Once that has finished, we will be leaving. You need to keep him there; I will reunite them soon. Besides, I am not in the mood to babysit.”

  I looked away from Ilyan, feeling awkward for eavesdropping on his phone call.

  “Manners, Ovailia, mrȁvy.” Ilyan’s voice was so stern it made my hair, stand on end. The raised inflection must have awoken someone else in the room, and I heard someone gasp for air near my head. I rotated toward the noise, the movement sending an even sharper jolt of pain through my spine.

  Curled up in the big overstuffed chair, Wyn still slept with a blanket over her legs. Part of me wished that the Wyn I had seen before, the Wyn who had pushed me under the water, was just a figment of my imagination. But there she sat, dark tattoos running down the side of her face and arm. Looking at them now, they didn’t seem quite as sinister as they had before, but their presence still sent an unpleasant clench through my body.

  “Finish setting your trails, and wait for my signal.”

  I heard Ilyan click his phone shut and shift his weight, but I couldn’t look away from Wyn. I didn’t want to try anyway; my body had begun to hurt and I wasn’t sure I could move.

  “The marks were a gift from her father and brother when they kicked her out of her home. I believe they had hoped the marks would kill her, but instead they just linger.”

  I turned to the voice, shocked to see Ilyan sitting right by my head, his back arched so he could meet me at eye level.

  “Broth…er?” I was surprised when my voice cooperated, even though it was almost agony to get that one word out.

  “Yes, her brother. Not me, thankfully, but I might as well have been responsible; she was spying for me at the time, after all.” His voice sounded so angry and upset, the blame he felt still ravishing through him.