Kiss Of Fire (Imdalind Series)

by Ethington, Rebecca

  I clenched my teeth. I thought of Ryland, the way he twitched and writhed as his father fought his way into his brain. Ilyan was right; someone had to save Ryland, too.

  I turned my body into Ilyan as he ran out the door of the apartment and down the stairs toward the small parking garage that sat below the complex. I kept my teeth clenched as my body jostled around, my hands wrapped around the blanket. I focused on my tensed muscles in an attempt to ignore the sharp pains.

  I could tell when we entered the garage; Ilyan’s footsteps changing to a flat gait that echoed around concrete walls. He walked straight to the black Mazda he always drove, the rear driver’s side door opening on its own before we even reached it. He leaned over and placed me in the center of the back seat.

  “How many,” he asked Wyn who sat in the passenger seat looking stressed.

  “At least a hundred, but they are spread out.”

  Ilyan reached around me and firmly placed the seatbelt over my shoulder and waist, placing large bags and suitcases around me in an obvious effort to stabilize me.

  “You still need to be quiet, Joclyn.” He placed his hand against the right side of my face, his thumb resting on my mark. I twitched away from the foreign, uncomfortable touch again. “It’s more important to get us out of here alive, than in comfort.”

  “For Ryland.” I sighed, trying desperately to keep my mind focused.

  “For Ryland.” Ilyan slid into the front seat, and turned the key in the ignition revving the car to life.

  “Where is the strongest?” he asked Wyn as he backed the car out of the parking stall.

  The force of the car’s movement slammed me into the large bag on my left. I cringed at the pain of the impact.

  “There are more bodies to the east, but the strongest power is coming from the north. That would be my guess as to where they are.”

  “To the north, then.” Ilyan’s jaw clenched as he hit the accelerator and gunned us out of the dark parking garage.

  The warm summer sun poured through the back window, and I leaned my head against the seat, letting the sunlight hit my skin a bit. It felt nice; if only this warmth wouldn’t go away, I might be able to endure the pain.

  “To the north?” Wyn asked. “You can’t be serious, My Lord. We would be walking into their trap.”

  There it was again, “My Lord”.

  “We are already in their trap,” Ilyan reminded her with a growl. He flipped his phone open and pressed it against his ear. “Ovailia,” he spoke the second someone answered the phone. “Set a trail to the east; we are going to go to the north. Meet us at the second safe house.”

  Ilyan did not wait for a response; he simply threw the phone to the side and turned the car around a sharp left-hand corner, followed by a quick right. My body flung around in the back seat like a rag doll, each impact sending more pain through me.

  “What do you suggest we do when we come face-to-face with Edmund?” Wyn asked in a panic.

  “We run.” Ilyan pressed the accelerator down all the way as we turned onto the large highway that cut its way through the city.

  “Run?”

  “Yes, Wynifred, we run. We fly. We save our lives; I can save the battle for later. There are more important things to face tonight.” They turned toward each other as a silent agreement passed between them. Ilyan turned back to the road again and increased our speed. I sat in silence, listening to their quick conversation, their infectious panic creeping into me.

  “How far?”

  “About two miles.”

  “Find all the usable cars, trees, buildings; I need to know what I have to… damnit!” He swore, causing both me and Wyn to jump. The car decelerated, causing my body to lean forward.

  “What?”

  “They have a barrier up so they can track us. Switch me places.”

  Wyn didn’t say a word; she simply moved over to the driver’s side as Ilyan moved to the passenger’s side, the car never deviating a millimeter from the road. “Pace yourself with as many cars as you can; and keep your speed steady,” he instructed, his accented voice filled with insane determination.

  “Are you going to try to break through it?”

  “No, I am going to demolish it.” Ilyan looked toward Wyn, his face filled with enjoyment or madness, I wasn’t sure which. Wyn nodded to him once before accelerating, the force sending me against the back of the seat, Ryland’s necklace pressing against my chest.

  The necklace was a white hot brand flaming through me, the warmth pulsing hotter and hotter like the beat of a heart. But it was more than just heat, it was pain beyond my own: hate, love, fear, and excruciating heartbreak. None of the emotions were mine, but with that one touch they filled me; they destroyed me. I couldn’t help it, the second it burned into me, my mouth opened in an agonizing scream. My voice ricocheted around the car, growing louder in the cramped space.

  I heard Ilyan yell along with me, a bright light moving away from him through the window only to explode against an invisible force that broke into a million pieces. As the wall broke, my scream continued, only silencing when Ilyan turned to clamp his hand over my mouth.

  “You need to drive as fast as you can, Wynifred; they know exactly where we are.” He removed his hand from my mouth, and I instantly clamped my mouth shut.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly “The necklace… it’s in pain.” I didn’t know why I had said that, but the phrasing was right. The emotions that the necklace filled me with felt as if it was in severe pain.

  Ilyan’s eyes grew wide, his jaw clenching. He looked over my head sharply as he looked for something. I could see his clenched jaw pulse angrily.

  “Fast, Wynifred; they are both here.”

  Wyn hit the gas, and we sped away from the cars we had been pacing with. All the cars became blurs as we soared by them, the black Mazda swerving in and out between the others on the highway.

  “What do you think of your brilliant plan now?” Wyn grumbled as she cut in front of a yellow Hummer.

  “Faster Wyn!” Ilyan screamed.

  The words had no sooner left his mouth than Wyn swerved to the left, barely missing another car. Only a second after she had moved the car, an explosion filled the space we had just left. I turned my head to the side, the red and white of the fire filling the air.

  The explosion sent a panic through the cars and drivers on the highway. Half the cars pulled to the side of the road in confusion or curiosity as to what had happened, while the remaining cars sped ahead in a desperate attempt to outrun the fiery blast. All the cars began to drive erratically; they paced and swerved, several cars ramming into each other in violent collisions that filled the road with the sounds of grinding metal, and shattering glass and the smell of smoke that masked the magical onslaught around us.

  I watched them as we moved, the car swerving around each accident as we weaved our way through the masses. I could see the fear on the other drivers’ faces, almost feel the palpable energy of the screaming men and crying women. I wanted to scream at them to run, beg them to find a way to get far away; they were all getting hurt, many of them dying, because of me.

  My mother had died because of me, too. Her life had been stolen just like all the others. I pulled away from the thought only to catch a short glance of a screaming woman that froze my soul. Was that how my mom had felt before she died?

  Wyn swerved again, this time sending me into the corner of the suitcase. I forgot everything else and yelped out in pain as my breath was knocked out of me from the impact. She moved the car and another explosion hit the road, sending bits of asphalt against the side of the car. The residue of the blast pelted us, a large piece slamming into the side window near my head with a resounding crack as the glass shattered.

  “Ilyan, do something!” Wyn screamed, as she swerved once again to escape another explosion.

  Ilyan hesitated before raising his hands above his head in silence and placing his palms flat against the top of the car. His hands glowed
bright blue as the roof of the car ripped apart in a loud explosion that ricocheted through the enclosed space. I screamed as the pieces of metal ripped and curled away from the car and into the remaining highway traffic. The hot wind of summer flew into the now topless car, whipping my hair haphazardly around my face.

  Ilyan turned and placed his feet firmly in the soft seat of the car. He stood, his torso extending out of the top of the car as he faced what I could only assume were our pursuers. The wind caught his hair and whipped it around his face. The violent nature of the flying strands matched his face perfectly; his eyes were set in a dark stoic blue, his jaw set in an oddly patronizing smile. There was so much power and determination, I couldn’t look away from him.

  “Hold on tight, Jos,” Wyn screamed from the driver’s seat. “All hell’s going to break loose now that they know he is here.”

  I looked up at Ilyan whose smile had increased tremendously as he raised his hand to the side and sliced it through the air.

  The car vibrated as a large abandoned dump truck skidded across the road, rumbling violently in the opposite direction. The truck followed the span of Ilyan’s hand as it swept behind us before a large pulse of light left Ilyan’s palm. The light must have collided with the truck, as only moments later, our car rocked to the side, an explosion violently pushing it around.

  Wyn swerved the car to the left, cutting over two lanes. Ilyan swayed but stayed atop the seat, shifting his feet to compensate for the dramatic movement. He raised his hands above his head, his palms open to the sky, his face toward whoever followed us. At first I thought nothing had happened, but then I saw the flock of birds, their path changing to reflect the movement of Ilyan’s hands. The stoic V of the birds was thrown apart as he moved his hands. A rush of wind sped above the car as it made its way toward our attackers, whipping through my hair on its way. It tugged at the bag I sat next to, the destructive force shredding the plastic.

  Ilyan moved his hands again, this time to the side. I felt the wind rush past us before it picked up a small sedan that had been abandoned at some point in time. The car lifted easily into the air, the large metal frame spinning like a leaf in the wind. It hovered there until it zoomed away to crash into something or someone behind us. I jumped as the noise of the collision hit us, the sound echoing around the speedily emptying highway.

  Ilyan smiled at the impact, his face alight with enjoyment. “There he is,” he growled, and he lowered his torso for only a moment to speak quietly to Wyn. “You’ll need to be on your toes. You know your father’s temperament better than I do; Timothy is going to play dirty.”

  “You just keep yours under control, and we may escape this mess we are in,” Wyn responded forcefully.

  Ilyan laughed widely at her before standing again, facing our attackers.

  Wyn slowed the car briefly before accelerating again, her driving sending us barreling through empty lanes and around frantically driven cars. Ilyan only laughed at the movement of the car, his body swaying gracefully as we swerved.

  His laughing continued as he waved his hands above him. I watched his actions in confusion as a large van came into view, maneuvering through the air above us. My heart jumped at the sight of the family still trapped inside. Ilyan had only been using empty vehicles as ammo, but someone else had thrown more than a vehicle at us. Someone else had thrown people. My anxiety lessened as Ilyan set the van down at the side of the road, and hopefully, into safety. He didn’t waste another moment before sending a massive explosion toward our attackers.

  Ilyan lifted his hand again, his eyes taunting the enemy behind us. His hand flexed, sending long strands of violent color from his finger tips like electricity. The sound of explosions and grinding metal penetrated the air so completely; I could not tell what was going on.

  Wyn swerved out of the way to avoid yet another explosion, but the tires still strayed into the broken road. Bits of asphalt flew into the empty cavity that was once the roof littering me with small burning rocks.

  I could hear Wyn’s quick erratic breathing from where I sat; I could hear her whispers as she spoke to the empty air around her. She spoke to Talon; she moaned his named, as tears streaked down her face. She was trying to be brave, but her heart betrayed her. She knew there was no hope; she knew we were going to die.

  Part of me knew she was right, and sadly, I was okay with it. I wanted to see my mother again; I wanted to apologize. But as much as my heart ached and screamed for my mother, a much bigger part knew I could not leave Ryland. I needed him, just as much as he needed me.

  Ilyan sent another round of ammunition flying past in a steady stream of large rocks, small cars, and everyday mundane objects. Ilyan had grabbed everything he could with his mind and launched it away from us like weapons.

  He lifted his hands again as a large, brilliantly-red, ball grew from his hands, shooting away from his palms like a bullet and pushing him back inside the car. The sound of the explosion rolled through me, the power loud and angry. My body called out in pain; my voice moaning and gasping with each movement. I remembered what Ilyan had told me; we had to escape alive and not in comfort. But he had also said there were too many for him to fight alone. I looked to his crumpled form in the passenger seat, my heart sinking.

  His face no longer held the joy, the solid determination that it had held a moment before. Ilyan’s face was screwed up with panic, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Wyn swerved blindly to the side in an attempt to escape another explosion, the front of the car nicking another of the escaping vehicles.

  “Take Joclyn and run, Wyn. Get back to Talon. I will hold them off as long as I can.” Ilyan gripped Wyn roughly, his voice a panicked command that made my stomach flip.

  “You’ll never make it out! I can’t… can’t let you.”

  I could tell how much it cost Wyn to say the words, to actually be willing to not make it back to Talon.

  “Don’t worry about me; I can do a lot more when I don’t have to worry about keeping others safe.”

  I twisted myself in the seat, my body screaming out in agony as I moved. Behind our speeding Mazda, a line of black SUV’s followed, each one large and foreboding. Their gauntlet herded everyone down the highway, moving us into certain death. And in the center of the line, speeding in front of all the others was a bright yellow Lotus.

  My heart stopped beating, my breath caught, and I felt the tears of panic splash down my face out of nowhere.

  “Ryland,” Had I meant to say it out loud, or simply speak to him in my mind? My voice caught in my throat, but the reply was right in my ear.

  “Run, Joclyn. Stay with Ilyan.” Ryland’s voice was a whisper, but clear as day. I whipped my head to the side, devastation filling me to see nothing but the gray bag. I looked back to the Lotus, desperately searching for his dark curls.

  “Ryland.” I lifted my hand and placed it on the glass of the back window. The firm, smooth, surface of the glass hot under my touch. It felt like the burn of the necklace that still pressed against my skin.

  I focused on the warmth, on the heat, the image of his face floating into my line of sight. The warmth grew, both in the necklace and in my hand. It moved into me, the heat seeping into every part of my soul. I pressed my hand harder into the glass in my desperation to see Ryland. At the increased touch the glass shattered under my hand.

  A million pieces scattered across the trunk of the car, over the road. I didn’t have time to look at it; I couldn’t be surprised. Only a moment after the glass shattered, the road behind us shifted. I screamed as the asphalt heaved itself into a giant pile, the earth moving to lift it upwards, toward the sky into a mound. The cars began to move up the increasing mountain for only a moment before they were hidden behind the large pile of asphalt, stones and earth that spanned the freeway.

  I spun around, my body aching, to face Ilyan. I expected to see him standing with his hands extending out, but instead, he remained inside the car where he had fallen, his eyes wide and
staring.

  “Drive, Wyn.” His voice was calm, and awed.

  I flipped my head back to the mound of earth and back to Ilyan, wincing at the pained movements.

  “What happened, Ilyan?” I asked quietly.

  He just looked at me. The answer was clear on his face, he didn’t know.

  I turned my body around, looking toward the distancing earth pile. Behind that pile, somewhere, was Ryland. I lifted my hand to my necklace, the warmth receding. The heartbeat of scorching heat left it, leaving only a slow throbbing. I held it tightly again, still staring back out the window.

  “Did I do that?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure?” I rounded on him; how could he not know? I stared into him in a panic, my throat burning, my body aching.

  “I will know soon, Silnỳ.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.” He reached forward and placed his hand against my cheek. “We will be home soon and then I will know everything. And, I will tell you; I promise.”

  “Home?”

  “Joclyn, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you know where we are going quite yet.”

  I felt the warmth of Ilyan’s magic flood through me, the numbness moving through my body and into my brain. I turned to see the last of the city flash past me before my vision blacked out and Ilyan’s magic put me to sleep again.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Just wait. You will see what I mean.”

  “I don’t have time for this, can’t it wait until later?”

  “No, Ovailia, it can’t. If he….”

  “Fine.”

  I felt the depression of the bed as someone sat down near my feet. A bed. The more I woke up, the more I could tell it was a bed. I could feel the soft and hard combination of a spring mattress made far too long ago, smell the musty stench of blankets left too long in storage. I opened my eyes, trying not to move.

  It looked like I was in an old hotel room; the décor was something out of the sixties. The wallpaper was faded and peeling in places but still had the obvious brown-on-orange striped pattern that was popular then. An orange angular lamp sat on a darkly varnished table, a hard plastic chair pulled up to the side. The look of the room explained the musty smell of the bed and the blankets; they all must have been here since the day the hotel first opened for business.