Living with Embers: (Son of Rain #4)

by Michelle Irwin

  All the ways my body had longed to be nearer to her reverberated through me again.

  Maybe Dad was wrong. After all, if it was a spell, why wouldn’t she have captured me again?

  Despite her first instinct being to grab for the knife, she hadn’t made a single move to actually hurt me. Dad had said she had the power over fire and would burn me with just her skin, but if she had that ability, she certainly hadn’t used it on me. All of the inconsistencies in Dad’s words and her actions began to play in my mind as I fought against the urge to comfort the creature that I hated.

  With a little effort, I freed my arms. Once I had, she fell to the ground and her sobs gave way to screams of agony. Granted I couldn’t remember anything before about a month ago, but I was certain I’d never seen such a sorrowful sight.

  My heart broke for the woman as I decided Dad had to have been misinformed about her. He’d obviously received some bad information, and we’d have to work that out later. Maybe she was working for the seductress, or perhaps the blue light indicated something else.

  For now, I wanted to rectify some of the damage I’d inflicted. I would do everything in my power to get the pitiful creature some help.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  WHEN THE PHOENIX’S howling screams died back to sorrowful sobbing, I crept closer to her and assessed the damage I’d caused during our fight. Her arms were littered with wounds, most of them superficial but no doubt painful.

  I reached for her arm, and she flinched away from my touch. Now that I’d given in to the part of myself that had been fascinated by her since our very first phone conversation, I longed to hold her more. The parts of my body that had wanted more from her than a quick death sang, and the blue light around my body seemed to dance at the permission before reaching out for her.

  My fingers stretched out, almost of their own accord, and brushed the hair away from her face. In less than a second, a range of emotions flittered across her features, rushing from relief to fear and everything in between.

  Her breaths grew rougher, and the waves of pain she seemed to experience regularly must have built again. Although I had no experience with childbirth—or at least, no experience I could remember—I understood she was close to giving birth. Unlike what Dad had described though, there was no heat radiating from her, there were no flames. Even the flicker of flame-like light that coated her skin generated no heat.

  A scream rent the air, primal and raw, and I wished there was something more I could do to help her.

  “Just breathe,” I offered, trying to get her to calm.

  “Clay? What’s happening?” She said my name with so much confusion, I wanted to reassure her that I wasn’t going to hurt her again. At least, not until I saw something with my own eyes that confirmed she needed to die.

  After a moment, she was begging for my help.

  “What do you need?”

  “The baby,” she growled through teeth clenched so tightly together I wouldn’t have been surprised if they cracked. “I think she’s com—”

  “Maybe I should get someone.” I wondered if Dad would have time to arrive to help her out. If I explained that he had it wrong, I was sure he’d take pity on the creature and help her just like I wanted to. Wouldn’t he?

  “No. Time.”

  Knowing there was little other choice, I moved down her body and, after taking a deep breath to prepare myself for what was sure to happen next, drew all of her clothing away from her lower half.

  I glanced up at her from between her thighs. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “That makes two of us!”

  Her words and the exasperation in her voice almost made me chuckle, but the situation made the laughter easy to suppress. When her breathing calmed, I realized my thumb was tracing small circles on her skin without my thought. It felt almost right to comfort her that way. Natural. The light around my hands twisted with the flames around hers wherever our skin met, making a new purple flame.

  Maybe Dad was right? If he wasn’t, and she wasn’t a seductress, what other reason was there for the feeling of her skin against mine to feel so right.

  Before I had a chance to examine the thought anymore, I looked down to see her child crowning. I didn’t know what to do, and hoped like hell there were no complications—the phoenix’s words about the pregnancy having special circumstances rang in my ears. I pushed the worries and doubts from my head. My training required me to deal with each situation as it arose. This wasn’t a situation described in any of Dad’s books, but it was what I was facing regardless. All I could do was try to encourage her to keep doing whatever she was doing and hope that it all worked out as it was supposed to.

  With every grunt the phoenix made as she pushed, more and more of the baby’s head appeared.

  It seemed like only minutes later when the baby’s shoulders twisted free and then the rest of his body rushed out. I reached forward, cradling the child in my arms, amazed that I’d actually helped to deliver the tiny creature.

  A rainbow of colored light, similar to the blue one that surrounded me—the one that Dad had said was indicative of the phoenix’s control—burst from all directions around the baby’s tiny frame. It didn’t make sense. Dad had said the blue light signified her control, but this baby’s light was multifaceted, not just blue. And how could the phoenix have cast a spell of control over him already? I looked from the child to the phoenix. The lights around her body were a muted flame just like they had been every other time I’d looked at her.

  Why was the child different?

  My attention dropped back to the baby in my arms. Unfocused eyes met my gaze, and I was shocked to see vivid blue irises that were almost identical to the ones in the photos Dad had used to convince me that we were related. Every feature of the child was too similar to those photos for it to be a coincidence. The words the phoenix had said as she ran from me rang in my head.

  “How is she?” The phoenix’s voice cut into my thoughts.

  “He’s got my eyes,” I replied, still unable to believe it.

  “Wait . . . he?”

  The shock of the uncertainty in her voice snapped my attention back up to the creature who’d just given birth to the tiny thing that looked just like me. When we were fighting, the phoenix had said our child. Had she been telling the truth? Every word she’d said to me came flooding through me and my confusion grew. At least until something struck hard and with a certainty I couldn’t shake. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind—she hadn’t lied when she’d said the words.

  This was my child.

  I just didn’t know how. Or why.

  Did that mean Dad was right and she’d seduced me? Or was there something more happening? She’d said she loved me at least as often as she’d turned it around the other way. I cursed my lack of memories and grew frustrated with the voids of information that seemed to swell within me. I hated drawing blanks. Damn it! Why can’t I just know something? Just one certain fact!

  “Can I please hold him?” she asked.

  One fact.

  Our baby.

  I glanced up at the phoenix again before looking back down at him.

  Our son?

  Was that the one fact I had? The one thing I knew for certain in the crazy world of lost memories.

  “Sorry, it’s just . . . He’s a . . . This is just really unexpected. I didn’t think . . . I didn’t think this was possible.”

  I placed him—our—baby in her arms, unsure whether I was willing to claim the child despite the evidence that seemed to confirm he was mine. Maybe millions of children were born with dual colored eyes every year. How was I to know?

  Choosing not to focus on anything other than what needed to be done, I looked around at the mess around us and at the tiny baby with the umbilical cord still attached. Acting on instinct, I found something clean to wrap the baby in, a sharp pair of kitchen scissors, and some cooking twine. I didn’t think about my actions, instead I just let my hands do what
they needed to. That had served me well enough in my fights, and I had to trust it again now.

  I cleared away some of the worst of the mess into plastic bags before washing up once more. Then I didn’t know what to do. Part of me thought I should call Dad, but something stopped me each time I reached for my cell phone. The more I thought of the things he’d told me, and what he’d asked, the less things added up and the less inclined I was to bring him into it until I knew more.

  Feeling the phoenix’s stare weighing on me, I turned to look at her. My hand made its way to the back of my neck and I scrubbed my palm against my nape.

  “Thank you,” she said, staring at me with an awe I didn’t deserve. “For helping me through this. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

  I was embarrassed by the way she looked at me—the way her eyes lit up as she did. It was almost as if she could see deep inside of me, and it made me uncomfortable, but not necessarily in a bad way. It was too much to deal with after having delivered a child that was the spitting image of the baby photos Dad had shown me. Instead of admitting to all that and showing my weakness to her, or letting her know how much I enjoyed being on the receiving end of her awe, I shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

  When she assured me that it wasn’t “nothing,” I couldn’t stand being idle any longer. I needed to do something. To keep myself busy and focused on the immediate to-do list so I didn’t go insane wondering about the facts. The first thing I did was head to her bedroom and pull out a blanket. I was only halfway back when I realized the action had been so instinctual—like everything Dad had shown me. Almost as if I’d done it hundreds of times before too. I offered her the blanket and then reached to pull the knife out of the floorboards where it was lodged. As she watched me with the blade, her eyes grew wide with concern.

  “Clay, what happened to Ethan? What did you do to him?”

  Ethan? My brother. I’d attacked him because he was still under Lynnie’s spell. I’d attacked all the fairies that surrounded her house because I couldn’t have them rushing to get her help. Most weren’t hurt badly enough that they’d have died, but a few . . .

  Ethan in particular . . .

  I couldn’t be certain he would survive the wound in his chest.

  “Please tell me he’s still alive?” she begged.

  It seemed strange that she cared so much. If he was simply a soldier or plaything for her, like Dad had said, then why did it matter to her if he lived or died? I was about to tell her what I’d realized, that I didn’t know whether I’d done enough damage to kill him, when she screamed again and cut me off.

  “Take him,” she hissed at me, holding out her child.

  I dropped the knife back to the floor and grabbed the baby from her like she asked. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was panicked as it squeezed out between panted breaths. “It hurts!”

  Cradling the baby with the care he deserved if he was indeed my son, I dropped to one knee at her side. “What do you need?”

  Another primal scream ripped from her in response. Just when I was debating once more whether or not Dad could—or would—help, the door burst open. The fae who’d captured me previously burst into the room. I didn’t worry about him attacking me though; I doubted he would while I held the phoenix’s child—my child?—in my arms

  Instead, I tried to make him see that there was something wrong. Someone else followed shortly behind, someone who looked like the photos Dad had shown me of my sister, only with a slightly different face shape, younger than she should have been, and with a set of wings on her back. The light around her body was different again—an apple green color. It all added to the confused thoughts running through my head in a cacophony of noise.

  The influx of new people and information was too much for me to cope with at once. I held the small child in my arms—the only thing keeping me rooted in reality—and watched the phoenix to ensure there was no trickery. I couldn’t help that concern for her colored my thoughts; I was sure that weakness was printed on my face. If it was nothing but a ploy, I was getting suckered right back in. Especially when the phoenix seemed more concerned about the safety of my brother and the other guards than herself.

  In almost no time at all, a second child had been born—this one a little girl who appeared to be a perfect replica of the phoenix. Strangely, unlike the child I held in my arms, she was instantly given a name. Ava. The same name written on the nursery wall.

  The fae who seemed to be the phoenix’s protector marched over to me as soon as his backup arrived.

  “Give me the baby.” His tone was sharp and left no real room for refusal. “I’ll make sure he gets to the court healers with Lynnie so that he can be checked out too.”

  Even though part of me wanted to resist, wanted to hold the child and ensure he was protected, I didn’t understand the instinct enough to follow it through, so I passed the baby across.

  It took me by surprise when the phoenix stood up to her protector for me. It appeared that they were going to get into an argument, and she didn’t need that stress after everything else that she’d been through.

  Everything I’d put her through.

  Guilt twisted my stomach as I cursed the blanks in my memory once again.

  While I remained under the watchful eyes of three other guards who’d joined the first two fae, Aiden went to get something for the phoenix—Lynnie as he’d called her. I closed my eyes and replayed the name a few times in my head, attempting to humanize her so it would be easier to argue with Dad that she wasn’t evil if nothing turned up to prove otherwise.

  When Aiden returned and passed a bathrobe to Lynnie, I wanted to put my body between her and everyone else in the room as she slipped into it. It was an odd reaction, but one I had to fight to resist.

  After she’d pulled on the bathrobe, she wrapped her arm around my waist for support as she took a few tentative steps. Where her body rested flush against mine, I ached. It wasn’t unpleasant as such, more like my body wanted to be closer still. Like the tiny, innocent touches were a teaser, suggesting something greater if I let myself sink into her. I didn’t want to think about what, just in case it provided proof of Dad’s words. For good or bad, I’d made the choice to support the phoenix—Lynnie—until I was given a reason not to.

  So far, with her tender smiles, happy glances, and gentle nature, I hadn’t seen one.

  I let her use me as a walking support as we moved with the crowd of fae to the court, wherever that was.

  The instant we were free of the house, I caught sight of the evidence of the fight I’d had with Ethan. Guilt twisted in my stomach. Either I was making a huge mistake now, or I’d attacked him for no reason. Both thoughts were equally terrible.

  Once again, I longed for something that would make sense of everything.

  With the fae surrounding us, Lynnie and I headed toward the glowing area I’d noticed in the forest near the house. As we went, I kept my mouth shut so I could observe what was happening and try to form my opinions.

  The glowing area turned out to be a circle of raised grass. Lynnie drank something from a flask and the female fae who looked almost but not quite like the girl from Dad’s photo album pressed a couple of drops against Ava’s lips as well.

  Lynnie looked to the baby in Aiden’s hold. “What about—”

  “He is not in need of any additional enchantments. It would appear that he has inherited at least a few of his grandmother’s genes.”

  The words confused me. If the child was mine, and I still had to believe he was, who was his grandmother and what had he inherited from her?

  The phoenix’s gaze flicked to me for a second, and I saw a shadow of doubt pass over her features. Instead of voicing any concern though, she just nodded.

  “Are we all ready?” the blonde female fae asked. Even as I considered asking for names, one floated into my mind. Mackenzie. I shook off the thought and tried to block the “voice” that accompani
ed it, unwilling to consider what either might mean.

  When at least half of the group looked to me, I nodded. I had no idea what we were “ready” for, but I was willing to play it by ear.

  One of the fae backups stepped into the circle and disappeared in a swirl of light.

  My eyes widened, but I managed to bite my tongue and not make any outward exclamation. Then the blonde female stepped through with Ava still in her hold.

  “Let’s go.” Lynnie urged me forward. “I’m tired and lord knows I could use a shower and a change of clothing. If Mackenzie wasn’t insisting I get looked over, I would turn around right now and crawl into bed.”

  The name was the same one that had come to me. How?

  After Lynnie had spoken, she looked to me, as if waiting for an answer.

  “It’s been a long day,” I murmured.

  She tipped her head back and laughed. With her mouth twisted up into a wide smile, the corners of her eyes crinkled just a little. “You can say that again. I’m just happy with the outcome.”

  My gaze only left her face when someone cleared their throat nearby. Aiden’s eyes glared at me. He was going to be the cause of some trouble, I was certain of it.

  “Shall we?” I murmured to Lynnie before helping her to step into the ring.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE INSTANT BOTH our feet were planted within the raised circle, a rush of colors and noise surrounded me. My stomach lurched, and every nerve ending in my body twitched as the miles disappeared in less than a fraction of a second.

  When my feet hit solid ground again, I took a staggered breath.