[Imdalind 01.0] Kiss of Fire

by Rebecca Ethington

  “We are going to be staying here for a week, maybe two, so make yourself comfortable. But please, stay inside. It’s not safe to go out right now.”

  I nodded again, my head falling to the side, looking blankly at nothing. Ilyan smiled sadly at me before leaving, calling behind him his plans to take a shower. I heard the door click and desperately hoped there was another bathroom I could hide in; somewhere I could lock the door. Judging by the fact that I could see the kitchen from the bed I lay in, I wasn’t holding out much hope.

  I exhaled heavily, my voice shaking at the action before beating my head against the pillow. My tears came strong, my heartbreak increasing the more I tried to ignore my emotions.

  “I’m sorry, Ryland. I failed you.”

  I didn’t want to be here; all I felt was an overwhelming sense of loss, of failure. I continued to bang my head against the pillow until my head began to ache, my temples throbbing. I focused on the pain until a new throbbing interrupted me.

  The necklace was beating.

  I sat up in one movement, desperately clawing at the fine chain around my neck. I didn’t care about what Ilyan had told me; I didn’t care about the danger. I just needed to see him, to know he was okay. I plunged my magic into the necklace, my efforts draining me. I closed my eyes as I fell back against the bed, the white room appearing before me.

  “Ryland! Ryland!” I screamed the second I entered the open space.

  “Yes?” I spun around, eager to face him, and saw nothing.

  “Who are you?” a little voice asked.

  I cried out, falling to my knees as my eyes came level with his. My heart broke as I looked at him. He was only a child, younger even than when I had first met him. My hand flew to my mouth as I sobbed, his blue eyes growing wide at my reaction.

  “It’s okay,” his little voice was soft as he placed his small hand on my shoulder. “Are you hurt? I can make it all better; my mommy says I am very good at making things all better.” He smiled widely, his mop of curls bouncing.

  I just shook my head no.

  “Are you scared then? I get scared sometimes. The cook, Marie, taught me a song about whistling that takes the scares away. Do you want to hear it?”

  I shook my head no; there were fewer tears, now. I was gaining control, trying desperately to ignore the heartbreak.

  “I’m... just... sad...” I choked out.

  “Why?”

  “I lost someone very important to me, someone I love.”

  “Who?”

  “My very best friend.”

  “Oh.” He paused and dug his toe into the ground. “I don’t have any friends. You can be my friend if you would like.” He was so eager, so much like he had been that first day when we had met.

  “I would like that very much.”

  “I’m Ryland.” He stuck out his hand; I took it eagerly, expecting something to happen, my heart breaking when nothing did.

  “Joclyn.”

  “What a funny name,” he giggled, his body shaking.

  I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.

  Ryland looked at me with all the innocence, all the sparkly-eyed, new-world wonderment a young child has—a child who has known no pain and felt no heartbreak.

  “You have very pretty eyes,” he said softly. “They look like diamonds.”

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  Eyes of Ember

  CHAPTER ONE

  I am going to kill Edmund LaRue.

  I repeated the words to myself as a reminder that the thought was still there; that my conviction was still true.

  The thought had started as an ember of possibility when I had seen Edmund wipe the last of Ryland’s memories three nights ago, and with them went all the memories of me. If it had been more than an ember, or if I had been more powerful, I would have killed him then. As it was, Ilyan had grabbed me and dragged me away.

  Being forced to leave the one person in the world that I loved had snapped something deep inside of me, which caused the thought to grow; the ember growing into a spark.

  That spark promised me that I would be the one to kill Edmund. He had destroyed my best friend, the one person left for me to love. I owed him for that.

  The spark became a flame when I went back and visited Ryland in our space between dream and reality for the last time. Inside of our Tȍuha I had seen him as a little boy who looked at me and told me my eyes looked like diamonds. I could feel the flame in me then; an inferno of hatred, desire and power.

  Although my mind was set on its course and my chosen path was clear, my heart and body had not gotten the message. I spent the next three days trapped in overwhelming heartbreak that I could not escape, try as I might. My body ached with emotional pain and erased any desire that I had to move.

  I knew it was not a natural reaction. Something else was wrong. Somehow I knew that this was affecting me far more than a normal heartbreak should, but I still accepted it. In turn, I accepted my lack of determination to fight it. In the back of my mind, burning with a heat that seared deeply into my soul, the desire to strike Edmund from the earth still reigned.

  So I lay still, an emotionless mask in place as my soul battled with itself. My mind planned Edmund’s demise while I ached for what it could not have; what had been taken from me.

  I could have stayed locked in my torment forever if Ilyan had not been so persistent.

  “Silnỳ, it’s time to wake up.”

  His voice was soft in my ear, his hand resting against the side of my face. His fore finger rested softly on the mark below my ear; the mark that had destroyed my life. I pushed his hand away and covered my head with the thick comforter in an attempt to ignore him.

  “You have to get out of bed sometime, prosím Joclyn.” He placed his hand over the blanket, the weight of it pushing into my shoulder. I wished he would move away. I didn’t want his comfort.

  “Leave me alone,” I said, my voice harsh.

  “I can’t do that, Silnỳ. You know I won’t.” Ilyan’s Slavic accent grew deeper as he spoke.

  I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone. He had been trying to get me out of this bed for the last three days.

  From under my comforter, I had watched him as he moved around the tiny studio apartment we had been trapped in. My eyes followed him as he made bowl after bowl of vegetable soup, forcing me to eat and drink when I wouldn’t even bother talking to him. I watched him as he sat at the table working on some project or another. He had made a nest of blankets in the small space of floor near the bed, content to give me space and privacy but also too scared to go far. I had listened as he had spoken on the phone with Ovailia every hour on the hour, getting updates of who had arrived in Prague. Part of me wanted to be there with Wyn and all the others like me, but the other part reminded me how much danger I was in and how important it was that I stay hidden.

  Ilyan had even called Wyn and prompted me to talk to her about what I was feeling, but nothing Wyn said had helped either. I ignored it all.

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted, or what I needed. The desire to seek Edmund out right then was strong, but I still couldn’t dig that desire out from behind the oppressive wall of despair and pain that I had built.

  The pressure of Ilyan’s hand increased as he moved it around to rub my back. I shied away from the contact even more; it made me uncomfortable. He wasn’t supposed to be the one to comfort me. The one who should be was gone forever, though.

  I didn’t want Ilyan to touch me.

  “Joclyn.”

  I pulled down the blanket enough to look out at him. His straggly blonde hair was longer than usual, hanging down to his shoulder blades, and his face was full of worry.

  “Ahoj,” he whispered as I emerged from underneath the blankets. “How are you feeling?”

  I closed my eyes, unsure of how to answer him. I was angry, desperate, lost, broken, in pain, and sad. It shouldn
’t be possible for one person to feel so many emotions at the same time.

  “I hurt,” I said, my voice cracking with uncertainty.

  “Where?” he asked, alarmed.

  “In my heart.” It was the best response I could come up with. While my heart did hurt, it was more than that. Everything inside me was shattered. Rather than a broken heart, this felt more like I had broken everything. My heart was constricted, but around it, my whole body felt tight and as though it was bound together with hot wire.

  Underneath the lethargy the desire for revenge burned steadily.

  “I know how you feel.” I reeled and swelled with anger. I knew he meant well—that he was trying to connect with me—but it felt like he was invalidating my feelings.

  “How could you possibly know how I feel?” I snapped. Ilyan didn’t back away from my harsh words. He continued rubbing his hand against my spine, the pressure somewhat dulled through the blankets.

  “Edmund has taken something away from me, too, Silnỳ. Ryland was my brother as much as he was your other half; your mate. I can’t help but feel that I failed you as much as I failed him.”

  I wanted to yell at him for not teaching me to use my magic better, for not training me the right way. I wanted to blame him for taking me into a battle unprepared, but that wasn’t right. It wasn’t entirely his fault, and he didn’t deserve all the blame. It was my fault, too. It was my fault we had lost Ryland.

  “I failed him, too. I failed you. I failed everyone.” I pushed the blanket away from myself as the frustration of what I was saying hit me. “All you asked me to do was get him out, and I couldn’t even do that.”

  I cringed at how bitter my voice sounded; how angry each syllable tasted against my tongue.

  I shifted my weight as I repositioned myself to sit, the pressure in my unwilling joints building as I moved. Ilyan reached out to help me as he came to sit next to me. My back seized and I swayed, my body torn between crying, yelling, and finding some way to disappear.

  “You didn’t fail, Silnỳ,” Ilyan’s hand moved from mine to rest against the skin of my cheek. His touch was hot with the warmth of his powerful magic that pulsed underneath his skin. Ilyan kept his ability restrained inside of him, just the opposite of Ryland who had comforted and healed me with every touch.

  Ilyan caressed my cheek, letting his fingers trail behind my ear to rest on my mark. He kept his hand there, his eyes wide as he looked into mine. I could tell he was trying to understand what was going on inside me and I wished I could tell him, but even I didn’t know.

  “I did fail,” I spoke harshly, “and now I am alone.”

  I wasn’t sure if I had spoken out of loss or in anger at the new reality Edmund had made for me. Both thoughts occupied the forefront of my mind, each vying for my attention.

  “You have me, Silnỳ, and you have Wyn. We are both here to help you through this.” I stiffened away from his touch. I knew he was right, but I was still scared to let anyone else in. My heart hurt too much. I was broken now more than ever.

  “I know,” I whispered, trying to find the strength to explain. “I want him back, Ilyan. I wish...”

  “I know,” Ilyan said, cutting me off softly. “I want him back, too. But he is gone, Joclyn. There is no finding him. His mind has been erased.”

  “Please, don’t...” I begged. I didn’t want to hear it.

  I moved away from him, my body leaning against the wall.

  “Why did we have to fail?”

  “Everything happens for a reason, Silnỳ,” he said. “Perhaps we must move through this trial to meet our true purpose.” His voice had taken on the regal air that was so fitting for him as the ruler of the protectors of magic, the Skȓítek. I cringed against his tone.

  “True purpose,” I repeated, shocked to feel the flame within me grow stronger.

  Ilyan ran his fingers through the stubble of hair on the back of my head then down to my back and over the skin that had been revealed by the shredded club clothes I still wore. I pulled away from his touch, my stomach twisting at his intimacy.

  “What do you want to do, Joclyn? What is your true purpose?” Ilyan asked softly.

  His words were like gasoline on an open flame. They burned and smoldered inside of me, igniting the need for revenge, making it stronger. The web of heartbreak and confusion shattered, the remaining fragments swallowed up by my growing determination. I could see everything before me, my true path as it had been laid out.

  “I want to avenge Ryland. I want to be the one to destroy Edmund LaRue.” My voice rang clear through the apartment, the power behind it causing Ilyan’s eyes to widen in shock.

  “You want to fight?” Ilyan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will teach you everything you need to know,” Ilyan replied as my nerves jumped in anticipation. I could feel my soul piecing itself back together with the thought.

  “Everything?” Before, Ilyan had only taught me the basics and it had ended badly for everyone.

  “Yes, Silnỳ. This time you need to know everything. I had hoped that by bringing you two together that I would be able to unlock your true ability. That’s why I taught you so little. I wanted to see what you could do, and it was very foolish of me. But now, Ryland has lost his memories of you and become his father’s puppet. He is now only a weapon at Edmund’s disposal. Ryland as he is now will stop at nothing to hunt you down and kill you Joclyn. If you wish to be the one to avenge your mate, you must prepare.”

  I nodded once and attempted to cast aside the last of my self-pity, pain, and heartbreak. Though it didn’t leave, it became another fragment of the broken person I had become.

  Ilyan squared his jaw and stood to face me, his hand extended toward me.

  “Then come; it’s time to begin.”

  I widened my eyes. He didn’t mean now, did he? But it was obvious that he did. His jaw was clenched and his eyes held that maniacal power I had seen in him so many times before.

  I breathed deeply, preparing myself before I took his hand. Ilyan pulled me to standing, my joints swelling in subtle pain as I moved. I stood facing him, defying the agony of my long-inactive body. I had only been standing for a moment before I knew something was wrong. My head swam and my body felt like it was turning on the spot, even though I knew I wasn’t moving. My balance left from the crazy motion, and I shifted sideways as my body fell. Ilyan’s arms reaching out to catch me just in time.

  “Are you all right?” Ilyan asked. The alarm in his voice surprised me. I nodded my head, the room spinning less and less.

  “You haven’t stood in a few days; I suppose it is to be expected.” His voice was low, as if even he didn’t believe his words. His grip on my elbow tightened a bit as we began to move, obviously worried I would fall again.

  When he looked at me, his forehead crinkled before grabbing one of the half-filled glasses of water that he had been forcing me to drink from for days.

  After I drank, Ilyan walked me toward the small bathroom. I looked behind me reluctantly to where the small double bed was pushed up against the side wall and the bathroom wall. A sliding glass door was at the foot of the bed and the tiny kitchen was on the other wall. The only floor space to speak of was between the bed and kitchen, but most of that had been taken up by Ilyan’s makeshift bed.

  It was a tissue box that someone had mistaken for a studio apartment. The idea of spending any amount of time in this claustrophobic space was nauseating; sharing it with another person was terrifying.

  “I want you to take a shower. There are clothes in the bathroom for you.”

  Sure enough, sitting on the counter in the bathroom was a small pile of clothes, including a black hoodie I had never seen before.

  “Where is Ryland’s hoodie?” I asked, unsurprised by my alarm.

  “It’s gone, Joclyn. When we failed, many of our number fled to the Motel. They were followed. Anything that was left there was destroyed out of necessity.”

  My he
art sunk and my head swam again, Ilyan’s hold on my elbow increased as my body swayed to one side.

  “Maybe now is not the time for a shower,” he said.

  I looked down. My shirt consisted of merely scraps of fabric and my stomach was covered by dried blood and ash. My mind flashed back to memories of that night; to Ryland digging a tiny blade into my chest. I swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay away.

  “Now is fine,” I said.

  “Good, but first...”

  Ilyan placed his hand against my face, his eyes boring into mine as he pushed his magic into me. I wondered what he was doing, but he only smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. My head began to prickle as his magic congregated there, causing my hair to grow back to how it had been before.

  Ilyan removed his hand. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. Dark black make-up was smeared all over my face, my bright silver eyes twinkling among the smudges, but my hair was black, straight, and long again—maybe even a bit longer than it had been originally.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he said as he turned on the steaming water before moving toward the door. “Enjoy your shower. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you when you get out.”

  The door clicked shut behind him. I didn’t look at it for long before turning toward the sink that I had leaned against. My reflection was staring at me through the mirror, my mouth opening in shock at the haggard face that looked back. All my battle wounds were still visible and much of my body was covered with dried blood. I ripped off what was left of my shirt and followed the trail of dried blood up to a small scar that now lay over my heart.

  A small line of raised skin stood out where Ryland had stabbed me in his attempt to kill me. The scar was rough from the quick healing he had done in the brief time that he had regained control of his body. That had been the last time he was himself; before his mind had been erased forever.

  I ripped my eyes away from the scar and they landed on the ruby necklace that hung around my neck; another gift from him. I reached up and grabbed it, removing the chain from around my neck, and scraped off the blood that had dried to the beautiful ruby to reveal the bright stone underneath.