“Adrian take Briseis the back way, following the side roads and country lanes. I’ll go the direct route through Lyon. At night ditch the roads completely and head to Toulon. We’ll meet there for the crossing. We don’t have much time.”
The others instantaneously set to work and had driven off within seconds; after Chara had fetched a helmet which she thrust instantly into my hands. Kieran ushered me over to his big menacing bike and I shook my head, backing away. “You’ve got to be joking; I am not getting on that.”
“Don’t call her that,” he practically growled. “Do you have any idea what a beautiful piece of engineering she is? Her life’s worth more than yours, hands down. Hell, possibly even mine.”
I glowered at him then remembered what he had said earlier, “Lyon? As in France?” My eyes widened dramatically, “Am I in France?!” I demanded.
Kieran rolled his eyes, “Look,” he sighed, “You were unconscious. I figured you’d want to come with us so yes we’re in France. We won’t be staying here long either.” He looked down at me with a deep condescension; like I was a child. “Now, are you going to sit and complain much more, because, if you do I’ll need time to find something to gag you with before we set off.”
I stared at him for a long uncertain moment, judging those beautiful green eyes.
Then he said, “By the way, that was a rhetorical question.”
He lifted me effortlessly into an iron embrace. Ignoring my embarrassed kicks and protests, he plonked me onto the back of his bike, practically cramming the helmet onto my head. As he swiftly slid in front of me I heard more engines growl, joining the roar of Kieran’s bike.
We both glanced over our shoulders, seeing three cars merely a hundred metres away devouring the concrete road. I gasped in terror when I focussed on the man leaning out of the widow of the first car, brandishing a gleaming gun. Then I spun away, tucking my head into Kieran’s broad shoulders. Great, I was his human shield.
He laughed a deep rumbling chuckle that vibrated through me. I felt his body twist and he muttered, “Watch this. That guy isn’t even aiming.” Then he grasped his own helmet firmly in his hands, holding it like one would a basketball about to be dunked then launched it through the air at the man.
Within a split second we bolted forwards as Kieran accelerated. Unprepared, I unbalanced slightly as we flew, unused to being on a pushbike let alone on such a motorised monster. I flung my arms around Kieran, gripping desperately onto life as I heard the helmet he’d thrown come into contact with the rough gravel. Bravely I took a fast fleeting look behind me and saw the man had disappeared from the window and there was something suspiciously metallic disappearing into the distance. We sped onwards, faster and faster.
It was hot and uncomfortable inside the helmet; outward noises were muffled by whatever material surrounded my face, though the overwhelming roar of the engine still managed to be heard. It growled deeply, like an angered lion. Powerful vibrations reverberated from my skin to my bones, making me feel lightheaded.
Another sound that cut through the protective shield of the helmet was greatly unwelcome; the sound of firing bullets. I heard them explode from their barrels, racing through the air and travelling too close to me for comfort. I held onto Kieran harder than I’d ever held onto anyone before. The strain on my fingers as they gripped his jacket was immense, it numbed and discoloured them. I was cold too; my exposed flesh trembling. This didn’t feel real. Did this really happen to people?
Maybe I’ll be like Alice and wake up out of Wonderland soon; hopefully.
The cars seemed to be getting closer. I could hear them closing in. I didn’t dare turn around. Kieran drove faster and faster, how fast was it now? One hundred, one hundred and fifty, two hundred miles an hour? More?
I screamed as another bullet shot through the air, this time agonisingly close. My sudden breath made condensation on the plastic screen of the helmet. I felt Kieran’s body tense underneath my hands, the muscles tightening; another gunshot. This time Kieran really did flinch. He veered off abruptly and I struggled to remain on the bike. My balance wavered as we left the road entirely and dropped down into a shallow ditch.
Luckily Kieran was quick to react and carried on driving with what seemed like great effort. He must be injured. We drove through the trees, darting between them with mere inches to spare. I cringed as we just scraped into one, cutting through the surface of my right arm. I looked down at where I’d hit the tree, my shirt had been lightly torn and fresh blood spilled from a massive graze.
Kieran didn’t slow down. Driving off road was no way near as pleasant as concrete, even without men shooting at you. We were constantly launched upwards and slammed downwards, weaving through the various obstacles. Eventually after a few minutes there was a thinning of the trees and several fields appeared before us.
The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, painting the sky a warm red. Normally this colour would have seemed nice, but now it reminded me of blood; bitter metallic blood. The ride was smoother on the grass, but ahead of us there was danger. The road we had been on had a turning that went directly into our field, and I could see a terrifyingly familiar car pulling in and stopping.
Kieran stopped suddenly. It was a waiting game; a test to see who’d go first.
I froze where I sat, my heart pounding and my head spinning, listening for the next engine to suddenly roar. It was Kieran’s.
The motorbike shot forwards, picking up incredible speed within seconds. I knew what was coming next; I could tell. That’s probably why I unleashed a petrified scream. My already fierce grip on Kieran tightened; I buried my face into his strong shoulders. I knew the cars had already begun in our direction, I knew what Kieran was planning: he was going to jump over them.
A sudden sharp incline of the ground appeared under the tyres and then there was only air. I felt the bike lift up off the ground as my stomach dropped. I opened my eyes at the last second, seeing merely centimetres below a flicker of the black exterior of the car. I noticed Kieran twist his body unexpectedly, flinging his arm out into open air. In that moment no comprehensive thought flashed through my brain. Adrenaline punctured through my skin like a needle, filling my veins with its essence; pumping immediately around my body to my heart. I was all senses in that instant, the feel of the vicious wind on my bare arms; the smell of petrol and rattling of overworked engines.
But then gravity worked its magic.
The ground came, far too quickly, into reach. As the first tyre hit the earth we jolted, as the second tyre came down we were launched skywards. The landing was rough, painful, shooting splinter-like pangs up my legs and back. The bike didn’t stop and as I recovered from the impact of the landing I realised we’d yet again sped up. We raced out of the field onto the same road we’d been on, seconds before I heard an almighty explosive boom. It erupted into the air like clap of thunder. I glanced behind me, seeing spiralling wafts of smoke.
“What did you do?” I wailed over the roar of the engine.
Kieran heard me. “Threw a grenade through the window,” he yelled back.
My eyes widened, “Where the hell did you get a grenade?” I screamed. What kind of maniacs had I associated myself with?
“My pocket,” he answered. I heard a manic grin in his voice.
We continued down that road for several miles. The adrenalin seemed to have drained away all the energy in me. Exhaustion pinned me down. I felt dizzy and dazed, my head burning up with a blazing headache. We only slowed when we went round sharp corners and until we eventually saw other people on the roads. Civilisation advanced before us. The street signs said we were heading directly into Lyon. Though it was growing dark there was still a significant amount of traffic.
Not for us though. We weaved through the cars, buses and taxis at a dangerously fast pace, getting beeped and sworn at intermittently. After half an hour I stopped searching the street signs and searched my own mind for answers.
How could thi
s have happened to me? Only four days ago everything was fine. Now I’d lost my father, well, I guess he wasn’t even that. My dog is dead. I’d nearly died. I’d witnessed someone change into a monster and to top it all off, I was apparently going to die and become a monster myself. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it all myself, heard it, felt it. I didn’t know what to think.
I didn’t notice that we’d left the city. I was losing myself in my own thoughts and pains. The blistering in my head never subsided and the next few hours dragged on painfully. I wanted escape from it all. I wanted to drift off into a deep dreamless slumber and wake up to normalcy. I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
I’d always known I was different.
I just didn’t realise how different.
We eventually stopped at the coastline, it was dark now, but I could hear the sound of crashing waves. There was a cliff ledge only three or four metres away. My butt was numb as I stumbled down from the uncomfortable seat. My stomach lurched uncontrollably and I felt bile rise in my throat. I doubled over abruptly, violently spewing whatever had been settled in the bottom of my stomach. I heaved until there was nothing left to heave then I cried furiously; trying to hide the tears.
I felt awful; every bone in my body ached, my head burned. I swear each beat of my heart was becoming more and more of an effort. I wiped my mouth, feeling disgusted, and looked up at Kieran who, bizarrely, looked empathetic.
“What’s wrong with me?” I whispered brokenly.
I had never felt so ill in my entire life. I could barely breath it was such agony, like there were shards of glass wedged between my ribcage.
Kieran looked down, so that those gorgeous green eyes were entirely concealed behind his long black lashes. When he spoke his voice was low and apathetic. “You’re dying.”
I cringed at the words as realisation hit. I truly was dying.
I have never really been afraid of dying. It happens to everyone. It’s natural. I used to believe that once you die you go someplace else, a beautiful place where the rocks are soft and the rivers run with honey. A childish dream perhaps, but a nice thought overall. Now I don’t know what to think. I still don’t fear death; it was the way Kieran portrayed me going that horrified me. Because of my father’s –sorry, pretend father’s-intolerant attitude towards flame, I had never been burnt before. That didn’t mean, however, that I believed I would be immune this time. Could it happen, would I really just spontaneously set on fire, my flesh burning from within?
I knew the answer deep in my own heart. I just wouldn’t accept it.
“Well,” Kieran sighed, “I guess it’s time for the horrible part.” He frowned, his face crumpling into a deep and intense depression. I stared at him with wide eyes. God if Kieran looked gutted what did that mean? What could be worse than dying? Then he exhaled brokenly and bent down onto his knees before his bike, whispering, “I love you baby, that’s why I have to let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”
I sighed irritably as he kissed his motorbike; then stood. To my surprise he then proceeded to push it over the cliff edge. I barely heard it plummet to the water over the sound of the crashing waves. Kieran gazed brokenheartedly where it had been.
“Goodbye,” Kieran uttered softly to nothing, “You will forever be my only love.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You are an idiot,” I muttered under my breath.
“We better get going. It’s at least ten miles away yet,” he said.
“How are we getting there? Wherever it is we’re going. I can’t walk that far right now.” I admitted reluctantly, feeling sick again.
He smirked then gestured up at the sky. “I have unlimited Air Miles.”
I followed his gaze dumbly; then gasped in understanding. “Fly there?”
“What did you expect?” he laughed cruelly, “A horse drawn carriage? Sorry to disappoint you Princess, but I’m far faster and more affordable; though I must admit baggage isn’t included in the price.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I begged, just the thought of being up there in the clouds, with only Kieran to catch me if I fell, made me shiver.
“Nope,” he frowned “and the weight limit is fifteen kilos.”
“But I’ll fall,” I protested, ignoring his comments.
He arched a perfect, dark eyebrow “Are you doubting my ability?”
“I said I’ll fall. You’ve had more practice than me.” Lots more practice, I added mentally. Yesterday I didn’t know Phoenix existed and now I was going to ride one!
“True,” he considered, “But you’ll still be fine… as long as you don’t give me any reason to drop you anyway.” He didn’t sound reassuring.
“I won’t travel on or in anything without a seatbelt.” I crossed my arms.
“You are strange,” he frowned.
“I’m strange?” I scoffed almost hysterically, “You Change into a bird!”
He rolled his eyes, “Come on.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no,’ I won’t do it,” I stated, shaking my head and firmly planting my feet.
“You will.” He waved me off, so absolute that it really irritated me.
“I will not,” I argued stubbornly. “The others might let you boss them around but I certainly won’t. I appreciate what you’re doing but it doesn’t mean you can boss me around.” What makes him think he’s so good anyway? Even if I’m dying, I still won’t take any crap. I gulped, dying…
“Turn around.” He commanded.
“No,” I snapped rebelliously. I was determined I wouldn’t do anything he just ordered me to do. I have my pride.
“Fine,” he retorted.
He pulled his jacket off his shoulders, movements evidently aggressive, “Would you please hold this for me?” he asked with a pleasant, virtuous voice; contradicting the hostile set of his features. Before I replied he shoved his jacket into my hands.
I stared questioningly at him, wondering what he was doing as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt. I didn’t move though; I was that stubborn. He continued downwards until his shirt draped open, displaying an immaculately toned body. My heart thumped unevenly as I remembered the image of him standing entirely naked on the edge of the cliff. A blush spread across my cheeks like wildfire. I hated it.
“What are you doing?” I demanded incredulously, trying to stare only at his face.
“Sorry, did you want a striptease?” he asked sarcastically.
I stared at him, bewildered. “What?”
He rolled his brilliant eyes; they flickered brightly like fragments of stardust. “You know what a striptease is. And before you ask, no I’m not demonstrating.”
“I don’t want you to demonstrate,” I said through gritted teeth, finally composing myself. “I mean, why are you taking your clothes off?” I asked as he kicked off his trainers, bending over to pull off his socks.
“Because I don’t want to rip them,” he answered, dumping his dirty shoes in my hands. “They’re designer. Something you would know nothing about.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, equally sarcastic. Then I noticed the blood dribbling down his arm, “You’re bleeding?” It came out as a confused question.
Kieran turned to look at his arm with a similarly confused expression, and then something clicked in his features, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I got shot. Again. Why must all the people I meet sooner or later try and shoot me?” he mused.
“Does that not…” I trailed off, looking closer at the wound; I could actually see a bullet winking at me. “Hurt?” I finished.
Kieran shrugged, “Probably. It would hurt a lot more if it was you.”
“Why?” I wondered.
“I’m a Healer,” he answered nonchalantly. “My ability to heal others comes from my own strength, my own flesh. I need to be as intolerant as possible to pain.”
I shook my head, “Nobody’s intolerant to pain.”
“
I said as possible,” he looked down at his arm, muttering to himself, “It’s not that deep, I could pull it out…” he twisted his body then ungracefully probed his fingers into the bullet wound. Without even flinching he withdrew a gleaming silver bullet; dripping with hot blood. He threw it to the side distastefully. Then he did something utterly disgusting. He slowly pried apart the two sides of the wound, exposing the oozing red crater of flesh. Then, rather delicately, he spat into it.
I grimaced, revolted. “That’s disgusting,” I exclaimed, “What did you do that for?”
“Well I doubted you’d carry antiseptic,” he looked up and down at the tattered remains of the clothes I was wearing, “although if you did, I would be interested to know where you’d kept it.” He smirked, then turned back to his arm, “Nik will have a needle and thread. Let’s hurry anyway, I’m cold.”
“Okay,” I said warily, “what do you want me to do?”
“Well you might want to turn away,” he said arrogantly “I don’t care if you see me naked but I don’t want you to be overwhelmed with desire and embarrass yourself.”
“I’ve already seen you naked,” I said, for some unknown reason.
He looked back at me with a funny expression. I just turned away embarrassedly.
It was quiet; all I could hear was the wind and the sea, joining forces to demolish the crumbling cliff. The silence was unnerving. I waited, growing anxious.
“Kieran?” No response. I tried again a little louder and still nothing. Eventually I had to turn. There was no way of avoiding it. He wasn’t there.
Immediately I was afraid. I scanned my surroundings with an eye for details, my heart hammering frantically, what if more men came? I was just beginning to panic when I heard the sound of beating wings. My head jerked up sharply.
The creature landed loudly but gracefully just a few feet away, digging his dark talons into the earth, demonstrating their throat-slashing sharpness as they cut deep. It was dark by now; his onyx plumage matched the sky. Carefully folding his immense black wings, he stared at me with round intelligent eyes.
Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1) Page 7