Flame (Fireborn)

by Arden, Mari

  "How'd you find me?" I ask. He looks uncomfortable. Belatedly, I realize I just insinuated he was searching for me. As if he has a reason to, I remind myself.

  "We were at our head-" He stops. "Head work place a block from here." He gestures behind us. "We drove by and saw a fire."

  "You work this late into the night?" That explains why his eyes always storm whenever I mention work.

  "Yes."

  "Where are your parents?" Lenora asks. "We should probably let them know."

  I rub my forehead. "I'll let Dad know when he comes home." I had to. He'll notice the black soot marks covering part of the house. Not to mention a broken window and a half, and a burnt bedroom.

  Neighbors come to ask how I am, but Rhys and Lenora don't leave my side. Maybe they notice the numbness slowly choking me every time I look at my house. I know how close to death I was. I relieved, but I can't stop my teeth from chattering and my body from shaking. Abruptly, vomit rises up my throat, and without warning I run. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don't slow down. When I'm behind a tree, I pour out everything inside me: terror, fear, and my relief I've survived. It tastes like chicken and processed cheese.

  A hand pulls my hair back, and it's gentle, rubbing soft circles around my back. "Easy," Rhys whispers. "It's ok," he says. I shake my head. Doesn't he realize what could've happened?

  "My dad can't live without me."

  "He doesn't have to," Rhys says.

  I don't notice I've spoken out loud until Rhys answered. My shaking has dwindled, but his hands don't leave, and they continue to stroke my back.

  "I'll always be here. I'm not going to let you die," he says. I look up. "I've done a pretty good job of saving you so far, haven't I?" He grins. "I am Golden Eyes after all."

  Even though I'm still anxious from the fire, I'm slowly melting inside from his smile. You save everyone, I think tenderly. Out loud I say, "Eh. Superman would've gotten here faster."

  "I doubt it. I can beam pretty quick."

  Remembering how he saved me from the truck yesterday morning, I ask, "How did you save me from the truck so fast yesterday?"

  "Some of us can move a little faster than humans."

  "I'd say a lot faster." His small smile tells me I'm probably right.

  "Isn't it human custom to thank the person who saves your life?" he suddenly asks.

  "Thank you."

  I'm so close to him I can feel the heat from his body. His hands are still rubbing circles on my back, and the soothing motion has the opposite effect he's intending it for. My heart accelerates, pounding harder. I notice something small and black on his face. Debris maybe? I resist the urge to touch him and wipe it off.

  "It's not safe here anymore, Kenna."

  My stomach plummets. Last night I'd watched a report on World News Tonight about a religious group who vowed to kill every Saguinox on Earth. When questioned by Diane Sawyer, their representative responded aliens on earth are unnatural. God created each of us for different worlds, and we shouldn't mix. When Diane asked for a response from her T.V. audience, someone immediately twittered: God shouldn't have given aliens the intelligence to build space traveling ships then. #insteadofhatingweshouldgetsmarter.

  Gazing into Rhys's worried face, I wonder what he's hiding. Has there been an investigation about the incident yesterday? Is it part of a larger conspiracy? "Do you and Lenora have to leave?"

  He hesitates. "Sort of."

  What does that mean?

  His hands find mine, and my fingers curl around his. It feels so good, and I hold on even when the static shocks us. We ride out the small bolt before he takes a breath, making a decision.

  "Come on." He says it with such authority that I follow him. When we get back to Lenora she's waiting next to her expensive car. She seems nervous.

  "Ready?" she asks.

  "For what?" I'm confused. But I don't think she's talking to me.

  She moves closer until she is inches from my body, and the glow in her eyes brightens. Violet spots glare, growing luminous.

  I suck in a breath, staring at the dizzying lullaby. Her smile is angelic, and I can't help the grin fluttering on my lips.

  "Get in the car, Kenna."

  I do as she says because I can't bare not to. Something in my mind is rumbling. I rub my hands on the smooth leather interior. I want to sleep on it. They've closed the door, but her voice drifts into my ears from outside.

  "I'm not sure I can do it," I hear her confess.

  "It's okay if you're nervous. Turn it on as long as you can," Rhys instructs her. "Can you do it?"

  "Okay."

  A second later Rhys slides next to me, and I realize I'm cold. I reach for him, and he lets me hold his hand for a moment. He squeezes my fingers, then he's fumbling with something, and I'm suddenly afraid to look. Warning bells sound in my head, and I know this isn't a good idea. I open my mouth to protest. Lenora is behind the wheel, and turns toward me.

  "Kenna." Her irises are all purple now, and she's calming me down because my whole body becomes limp. I start to panic. My eyes refuse to leave hers though, and mauve colors dance in front of me swaying like seaweed on an ocean floor. "Time to go," she whispers. Her voice is hypnotizing, and I blink.

  I'm frozen, and when Rhys sticks a needle into my vein, I realize I've made a big mistake.

  Chapter 11

  When I awake darkness is all I see and I'm afraid until I remember what happened; then I am terrified. I try to make a sound, but I can't. My throat isn't working, and gurgling gasps are all I can muster. I'm blindfolded, and my hands are crossed in front of me, held together with a rope that bites my skin. I'm moving, but my legs aren't carrying me. Someone else is. I hear a strong heartbeat against my ear, and I concentrate on it to help me keep calm.

  The wind is harsh and loud. Someone's put a blanket over me. I smell a feminine hint of lilac, and I wonder if Lenora is close by. Lenora. She did something to me, I'm sure of it. My mind replays every moment I spent in their company, but there isn't much to go through. I panic as I think about what the Saguinox might do with me. Eat me? Torture me? Bring back to their planet for some sick experiment? All the thoughts running in my head fill me with anger and nausea, and I wonder if I'm going to throw up again.

  "That way," a soft voice whispers. Lenora is next to us.

  I think of her easy charm, and beautiful face and I want to kick myself. Why did I agree to go in the car with her? Why did I follow Rhys? Why had I been so dumb? They're aliens for god's sake! They don't even have the same anatomy as me. But deep inside I know why I followed Rhys, why I want to follow him: he sees me when others can't. He saves me when I can’t save myself.

  I'm humiliated.

  Rhys was all an act, as fake as the Golden Eyes hero I'd made in my head.

  I want to punch him, but I settle for thrashing my shoulder into his large chest instead. He doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't even flinch. That only makes me madder. Images of what I want to do to him flash in my mind: kicking him in the shins, hitting him with a shovel, flipping him on his back with ferocity the way I've seen a WWE wrestler do once.

  I don't stop hitting him with my shoulder, and I hope my actions tell him something about me. His words about me being a survivor come back in my head. You're. Hit. Damn. Hit. Right! Hit. He only holds me tighter, and I'm not sure what that gesture means.

  When I exhaust myself, I rest my head on the chest I've worked so hard to hurt. I'm still weak. Whatever they gave me was powerful. I wonder if it's human made.

  I listen for clues about where I am. I know I'm away from the city because I can't hear cars or people. All I hear are owls, and the rustle of trees and leaves. If I strain my ears I think I can even hear the sounds of waves crashing, but whatever they shot me up with makes it hurt to focus too long. The sound of something opening alerts me. We've arrived, and I stiffen in his arms. Something small and pointy nudges my skin.

  "No." Rhys voice sounds strained, like something's hurting him.
I wonder if it's me, and I can't help the smug smile tugging at my lips.

  "What if she fights?" Lenora asks.

  "It will be all right," he says quietly, gently.

  "I don't know, Rhys." Lenora sounds uncertain. "She doesn't seem like she'll come quietly." Smart girl, I snarl silently. Now if only you can come closer so I can claw your eyes out! I must've made a sound because Rhys's arms tighten.

  "I'll take care of it," he says.

  "We have to undress her and put the offering on," Lenora says, amused. "And I don't think you should be doing that."

  Rhys makes a sound, and it sounds suspiciously like a smirk. "I'm sure I can figure it out."

  More images of things I want to do to him enter my mind, including using the ropes on my hands to tie him to a tree for the wolves.

  "How about this, you can get the offering on her and I'll be close by in case you need my… skills." Rhys suggests.

  "All right," she reluctantly agrees. "If she wakes up the whole compound with her screaming, don't tell me I didn't warn you."

  "She won't."

  "If she tries to run, don't tell me I-"

  "She won't." There's a pause. "Don't you trust me?" Rhys asks softly.

  "You know I do," Lenora replies just as softly. "But Malachi-"

  "Shh!" he hisses, and I know he doesn't want to say more in front of me. "Let's go."

  My legs stir, and I try to stretch them, testing them without him noticing. I'm scared he does though, because he walks faster. I can hear Lenora's heels clicking softly, and I know we're inside a building. A few more doors open, and then we stop. He settles my body onto something hard.

  A chair.

  I try to sit, but my body's slouching like my bones have disappeared. A gentle hand hoists me back up, tenderly laying my neck back. I'm facing the ceiling and faint light penetrates through the cloth over my eyes. Lenora's clicking fades away, and we're alone.

  "I know you can hear me," Rhys says in a low voice. "Just do everything you're told and you'll be ok. Nod if you understand."

  Bastard, I try to say, but nothing comes out.

  "Nod if you understand." Maybe he senses my fear because his voice is gentler. "Lenora's going to undress you. She's going to put you in something else. Please don't try to leave or they will send someone to get you. There are consequences for prisoners who try to escape."

  Prisoners? My throat feels dry. What did he mean by that? Why was I in prison? My questions can't be voiced, and he won't answer them anyway so I keep the growing terror to myself.

  His hands touch my shoulders, and I'm surprised. I wonder if he knows they're shaking. "Please don't leave, Kenna," he repeats softly.

  I don't answer him. I couldn't if I wanted to anyway.

  "I'll wait by the door," he informs Lenora. "She's alert."

  I hear her walking, approaching me with hesitation. "I think you have to keep your blindfolds on. So I'm just going to help you pull your shirt and pants off, okay?" She lifts my shirt up, but it's hard because my hands are still tied in front of me. Lenora pauses. "I wonder if I should cut the ropes off.'

  Yes, yes, my mind is screaming. Do it!

  She asks Rhys, and his quick "no" seals the deal. She goes back to struggling with the thin shirt, and I hear a tear as she finally pulls it over my arms and head.

  "I'm sorry!" Lenora sounds apologetic. "I hope you didn't like that shirt. There is a... very cute bird on it." She sounds so contrite I'm almost amused, but then I remember how I got here and I hate her again. "There are many birds on your pants though. I'll be careful, I promise."

  The pants are easier, partly because my legs feel like putty she can move any which way she likes. Within seconds I have on nothing but a bra and panty.

  "Don't peek, Rhys!" she calls out.

  "I'm not," he responds, but he sounds like he's laughing, and I get madder.

  She puts something soft and silky over my head. It smells fresh, like clean linen. Struggling, she calls out, "Rhys! I have to cut the ropes. I can't get the dress on."

  He sighs and walks over.

  I'm mortified. Even though the top part of me is covered, my thighs and legs are not.

  "Pull off the dress," he tells her.

  I make a loud strangled sound, the loudest I've made yet, and they pause. Rhys comes closer and whispers to me, "I won't look. I promise. Do you trust me?"

  Hell no! I shout in my head.

  The words still can't come, but he knows what I'm thinking because he's saying, "Use this pocket knife to cut it off. I'll stand behind you in case she tries something." His voice gets dramatically loud to make sure I hear. "I'm turning my back, Kenna, I won't see a thing." All I can think about is I wish my legs could kick.

  When the ropes finally come off, I make a sound of relief. I want to rub my wrists, but I have to stretch my fingers and arms. It's hard to raise my arms without help, but I try anyway.

  "Good," Lenora says encouragingly. "Just keep stretching them." I'm confused. Ten minutes ago she wanted to knock me out with a needle, but now she's encouraging me to regain my strength back? It makes no sense, but I can't think anymore because she's pulling the dress over me again. This time it flows down without a hitch. Lenora adjusts my top until I'm properly covered, then says, "Ok, Rhys, all done."

  All I hear is a sharp intake of breath. There is silence for a long moment and I'm wondering what he sees.

  "I'll take her to her room," he finally says, his voice thick and strained with something that makes my insides warm. His arms are gentle when he picks me up.

  I want to squirm with frustration. I want to hate him so bad. I do hate him, but he plays with my emotions when he touches me like I'm something precious. He pulls my head closer onto his chest. His breath is warm on my forehead, and I'm tingly there. Something sounding like metal opening drifts into my ears, and I brace myself.

  He sets me down on the hard floor. "When your hands are back to normal you can take your blindfold off."

  I try to speak, but only disjointed sounds form.

  "You'll be able to talk in an hour or two," he says. "You might not see me much. Do what you're told, but listen to your instincts." He touches the side of my head. "Listen to the voices in here."

  There's a long moment of quiet where I can't hear anything but his breathing. In the darkness, my sense of touch is heightened. The barest whisper of his fingers trace the sides of my face. Against my will, I shiver. For some sick reason I want this moment to last forever. My body repulses me. Within seconds, he's gone, his strong footsteps fading as more terror grows inside me.

  I'm more scared alone than when I was with Lenora and Rhys. Feelings of confusion and betrayal flow through me. For a long while, I remain motionless, willing myself not to cry. I lay my head down, but don't close my eyes. It's still dark either way.

  Out of boredom and adrenaline-filled fear, I stretch my body and attempt to move it. My legs are sluggish, but my arms are coming around. It takes time, but eventually I can lift them. Soon my fingers can move with enough coordination. I'm able to rip the cloth from my eyes. More darkness greets me. With enough concentration my eyes adjust, and that's when I see where I am- what I'm in.

  He was right. I'm a prisoner. And Rhys had locked me in a cell with no way to get out.

  Chapter 11

  When I awake darkness is all I see and I'm afraid until I remember what happened; then I am terrified. I try to make a sound, but I can't. My throat isn't working, and gurgling gasps are all I can muster. I'm blindfolded, and my hands are crossed in front of me, held together with a rope that bites my skin. I'm moving, but my legs aren't carrying me. Someone else is. I hear a strong heartbeat against my ear, and I concentrate on it to help me keep calm.

  The wind is harsh and loud. Someone's put a blanket over me. I smell a feminine hint of lilac, and I wonder if Lenora is close by. Lenora. She did something to me, I'm sure of it. My mind replays every moment I spent in their company, but there isn't much to go throu
gh. I panic as I think about what the Saguinox might do with me. Eat me? Torture me? Bring back to their planet for some sick experiment? All the thoughts running in my head fill me with anger and nausea, and I wonder if I'm going to throw up again.

  "That way," a soft voice whispers. Lenora is next to us.

  I think of her easy charm, and beautiful face and I want to kick myself. Why did I agree to go in the car with her? Why did I follow Rhys? Why had I been so dumb? They're aliens for god's sake! They don't even have the same anatomy as me. But deep inside I know why I followed Rhys, why I want to follow him: he sees me when others can't. He saves me when I can’t save myself.

  I'm humiliated.

  Rhys was all an act, as fake as the Golden Eyes hero I'd made in my head.

  I want to punch him, but I settle for thrashing my shoulder into his large chest instead. He doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't even flinch. That only makes me madder. Images of what I want to do to him flash in my mind: kicking him in the shins, hitting him with a shovel, flipping him on his back with ferocity the way I've seen a WWE wrestler do once.

  I don't stop hitting him with my shoulder, and I hope my actions tell him something about me. His words about me being a survivor come back in my head. You're. Hit. Damn. Hit. Right! Hit. He only holds me tighter, and I'm not sure what that gesture means.

  When I exhaust myself, I rest my head on the chest I've worked so hard to hurt. I'm still weak. Whatever they gave me was powerful. I wonder if it's human made.

  I listen for clues about where I am. I know I'm away from the city because I can't hear cars or people. All I hear are owls, and the rustle of trees and leaves. If I strain my ears I think I can even hear the sounds of waves crashing, but whatever they shot me up with makes it hurt to focus too long. The sound of something opening alerts me. We've arrived, and I stiffen in his arms. Something small and pointy nudges my skin.

  "No." Rhys voice sounds strained, like something's hurting him. I wonder if it's me, and I can't help the smug smile tugging at my lips.